Wyoming Tough - Diana Palmer [21]
He just stared at her. He didn’t speak. God knew what Gelly had actually told him about the incident.
“I’ve never known her to get physical with anyone,” he returned. “She was crying.”
“Oh, gee, I’m sorry,” Morie said with cutting sarcasm. “Start a fight and lose it and then go crying to some big, strong man to make it all right. That how it goes?”
His jaw tautened. “I’m the boss.”
“Yes, you are, sir,” she agreed. “So if you want to fire me, go right ahead. There are a few ranches where I haven’t tried to get work yet. I’m willing to give them a try.”
He let out an angry sigh. “You might just admit that you were wrong and apologize to her,” he said curtly.
“Apologize when I was defending myself from an attack?” she asked. “How does that work, exactly?”
“She said you started it.”
“And I say that she did.”
He looked even angrier. “She’s a socialite. You’re a hired hand on my ranch. That’s what makes the difference.”
“I get it.” She nodded, trying to contain her temper. “It’s the class thing, right? She’s rich and I’m poor, so she’s right.”
“You work for me, damn it!” he shot back. “And you’re that close—” he held up his forefinger and thumb a fraction apart “—to not working for me!”
Her small hands balled up at her sides. “Nobody throws a punch at me and gets away with it. I don’t care who she is! If she’d landed that blow, I’d have had her prosecuted and I’d call every damned newspaper and television station in Wyoming to make sure everybody knew what she did!”
His eyes were glittering. “She said you told her that you wanted me and you were going to get me, and she’d be out in the cold!”
She rolled her eyes. “Good grief, you’re almost old enough to be my father,” she burst out. “What in the world was she thinking?”
He had been pacing while they talked, but as she spoke her last sentence, he’d stopped and stared at her. Then he moved like greased lightning toward her.
His mouth came down on hers with a pressure and skill that shocked her speechless. While she was trying to decide on a course of action, he backed her up against the wall between two landscape paintings, lifted her and braced his body against hers. The kiss was, at first, a medium of his anger. And then, quite suddenly, it was something entirely different.
She felt one big, warm hand high on her hip, his long leg insinuating itself between both of hers. He shifted, so that she felt him intimately. He was aroused and apparently not shy about sharing the fact with her. His mouth eased and became persuasive, teasing her lips apart while his hand positioned her slender hips so that he could get even closer.
She shivered. No man had ever made such a sudden, sensual pass at her, and she’d never felt such a surge of utter and absolute pleasure at physical contact.
But when the contact grew even more intimate, and she felt her body urging her to help him with that zipper he was trying to undo, she came to her senses.
She dragged her mouth out from under his with reluctance. “No!” she whispered. “No, don’t!”
She pushed at his chest weakly. If he insisted, she wasn’t sure that she could stop him. She didn’t want to stop him….
He was out of his mind with the pleasure. He hadn’t felt it in years, certainly not with Gelly, who was something of a cold fish, despite her flirting. Morie had made a sharp remark about his age and it had hit him in a sore place. But this was insane. He was taking advantage of the hired help!
He dragged himself away from her and looked down. She was flushed and shaking. But it wasn’t from fear. He knew women. She was as aroused as he was. She hadn’t protested the kissing, but she wasn’t willing to go further. She behaved as if she’d never had a man. He frowned. Could