Coming soon
Buck stepped inside, closed the door and didn't make a move toward her. "That woman downstairs is worse than Emma."
"Did you come up here to complain?" She folded her arms beneath her breasts.
"I came to tell you I took this damn job for you.” Plus, it made it easier to flush out Hanson’s hired guns before they harmed her. But she didn’t need to know that. She’d want to help and would do so behind his back if he didn’t let her. “Not because I want a tumble between the sheets, but because you're my woman. That used to mean something to you."
"It still would if you’d tell me you love me."
"Dammit, Zanna. You know I do."
"Then say it," she challenged. "And don't give me the same old line about words being hard for you."
"They are." At least, those words were. The last time he'd said them his family had been murdered. With enemies lurking in the shadows, the same could happen to her. Pissing her off was one thing. He could tolerate her icy glare. Losing her forever was a whole different matter. "That doesn't mean I don't feel them."
She sighed irritably and looked away.
"Doesn’t my coming here count for something when I swore I wouldn’t?”
"If you can't say the words," she returned her gaze to him, "then I want you to prove you love me and intend to stay."
"How?"
"By courting me."
"What the hell do you think the last three years have been?"
"I thought I knew, but now I’m not so sure.” She glared at him. “You say I’m your woman. Prove it.”
"Sonofabitch, Zanna. Couldn’t you just beat me with your fry pan?"
"No," she said in that same snotty tone that had beaten him many times in the past. |
