Wildfire Read Free Page A

private thoughts and feelings.
    As he kept his gaze trained on her face, Tanner's dark eyes narrowed, and he let out a long, low whistle.
    "Voodoo woman," he said, his normally husky voice growing deeper. "When you get mad, you don't look like somebody's kid sister anymore. Those baby-blue eyes look like opals ... like lightning in the tropics. You ought to get mad around Drew sometime, Rae. Then he might actually see you."
    Swearing a silent curse, Rae exhaled a short, exasperated breath. She knew better than to let him see her anger. Any reaction at all from her would only add to his enjoyment.
    Gritting her teeth, she watched in silence as Tanner moved around to her side of the desk and leaned against it, his long legs inches away from hers.
    "You know what your problem is?" he asked, still watching her.
    She tilted her chair back, raising her head to meet his dark gaze. "Yes," she said flatly, "men who are dense enough to think I'm interested in their opinions."
    He chuckled softly. "No, your problem is you. You've got the wrong idea about yourself. Somewhere along the line—it probably started back when you were still in the cradle—somebody told you that you were a good little girl, and like an idiot, you bought it. Which is why you've spent your whole life living a lie, wondering why you don't feel easy in your own skin."
    "You know nothing about me," she said tightly.
    "Maybe, maybe not. Sometimes I get this crazy idea about you. Sometimes I think maybe there's fire in you. And not a tame little Girl Scout fire either. Wildfire, Rae. Burning hot and hard ... like on the night I first saw you."
    He paused just long enough for the memory of a starburst-charged moment to fill the space between them.
    "Lone Dees madness," he murmured. "It was all right there in your eyes for anyone to see. Do you know how many babies are born nine months after Lone Dees? Is that what it was, Rae? Do we have to wait another ten years for what's inside you to come spilling out? Or is it always there, waiting for the rest of the world to catch up?"
    He smiled. "One thing's certain, if it's there, you don't know what to do with it. That's why you keep it hidden and pretend like it doesn't exist. But I'll tell you something, sweetness"—although he hadn't moved, when his voice dropped to a husky whisper, he seemed closer—"if it's there, and if you ever decided to let it out in the open, you'd have men howling after you like freakin' alley cats, tearing at each other's throats just to get a chance at being the one chosen to service you."
    Rae's breath caught in a soft gasp, and she closed her eyes to block out the sight of him. "Do you have to be so crude?" she asked, her voice stiff and hoarse.
    "What's your problem? 'Service' is a perfectly respectable word. I could have said they would all want to f—"
    "Stop it!"
    Rae was furious, not a new sensation in her dealings with Tanner, but this time she was more angry with herself than with him. Why in hell did she fall into every single trap he set for her?
    "Relax." There was a definite hint of laughter in his voice now. "I said sometimes I think that. The idea is too incredible to last very long. Because you really are a good little girl. Aren't you?"
    Forcing the stiffness from her spine, Rae opened her eyes and shot an irritated glance in his direction. "Don't you have something to do? Somewhere to go?"
    Instead of answering, he reached behind him to pick up the framed picture from her desk. "So this is the fabled Saint Johnny," he said slowly. "The late husband for whom you still pine." He cut his eyes toward her. "He looks more like your brother than your husband. He has that same wholesome, All-American, good-as-gold look."
    Slowly, carefully, she took the portrait from Tanner's hands and placed it on the far corner of her desk, out of his reach.
    "How do you know about Johnny?"
    He reacted with a short, harsh laugh. "That's a stupid question. You've been in this town long enough to