Maverick / The Playboy's Passionate Pursuit. Emilie Rose

      “A flit…” He shook his head. “What are you getting at? Do you believe—” As he paused, she pounced.

      “That you’re going to take off on your own, leave me cooling my heels here in Durango?” she finished for him. “Oh, yeah, Mr. Wolfe, that’s exactly what I think you might try. I guess I should have listened to your cousins. They warned me you were a loner, a maverick who went his own way alone.” He started to speak, but she charged on. “And that’s what you intend to do to me, isn’t it?”

      “Okay, I admit I prefer to do my hunting alone, as I always have. But I had agreed to your going with me, so why in hell did you get the idea that I was planning to take off without you?” Now Tanner sounded angry, and his features had hardened, turning the saint into the bounty hunter.

      Bri wasn’t impressed by either his voice or the hard look of him. At least she worked to appear unimpressed. In truth, she was shaken, trembling inside. But that was because she was just as angry.

      “Oh, couldn’t be because you now seem eager to get rid of me while you get your stuff together, now could it?” She didn’t wait for him to ditch the stunned, speechless look, but continued, “It might even have worked except for one minor detail. You forgot that I’m carrying the check.”

      “I didn’t forget a damned thing.”

      Whoa. If she had thought he was angry before, she was now seeing real anger. More like fury. And furious, Tanner Wolfe was downright frightening.

      “Good, because even if I’d have bought into your softening-up routine in the restaurant—” he again opened his mouth to interrupt but she held up her hand, keeping him still while she rushed breathlessly on “—and you skipped off on your own and brought in that bastard, you wouldn’t have gotten anything but the original ten thousand bounty.”

      “Finished?” His cold tone was chilling.

      The tremor inside Bri turned into an icy shiver she was hard-pressed to hide from him. “Yes.” How she had managed so calm a tone amazed her.

      “Feel better for having your little rant?” There was something new and dangerous in his voice that froze the icy shiver solid.

      Bri stiffened her spine and raised her chin to a defiant angle. “I was not ranting.”

      “Coulda fooled me,” he drawled. “And there was no softening-up in the restaurant. I guess I’m not too bright, because I thought we were having a nice time getting to know each other.” He gave her a quizzical look. “What made you think I was setting you up, anyway?”

      How did one explain a feeling, a sudden onslaught of intuition? she asked herself. A hard lesson learned from another man who’d been a pro at stringing along women?

      “I’m not quite sure myself,” she admitted. “When we were talking, I relaxed, and the next minute I began to feel suspicious.” She told herself the sudden feeling had nothing to do with how he had allowed that man-eater Candy to step into his embrace.

      At the back of her mind, another unsettling suspicion niggled at her. The suspicion that he might have been in a hurry to send her packing so he could go back to the restaurant to indulge in some after-dinner candy. Then he would collect his stuff and head into the mountains without her.

      Bri brushed the suspicion off, not about to recognize it. There was no way she would voice it to Tanner. His heavy sigh dissolved her uncomfortable reverie.

      “Do you want to spend the next two nights with me?”

      Yes, she thought at once. “No,” she said in firm denial of her first response.

      “Then I suppose you’ll have to trust me.” He smiled quite like a chess player who had his opponent checkmated. “That is, if you still want to go with me.”

      “You know I want to go with you,” she snapped, angry at him, at herself for stepping so blindly into his game of strategy. “As long as you remember who holds the purse strings.”

      Tanner shook his head as if in pity for her. “I don’t forget details, Brianna, even when they are recited by a spoiled little rich girl.”

      Bri simmered over his parting shot at her the rest of the day and all through the next, all the while she wandered around, checking out the shops closest to the hotel.

      She’d show him what a spoiled little rich girl could do.

      Three

      Damned if she wasn’t wearing killer heels.

      Tanner stared in amazement as he brought the SUV to a stop in front of her hotel. It was early, still dark, not so much as a hint of gray on the eastern horizon. But standing in the well-lit entranceway of the hotel, leaning indolently against the brass handrail, he spotted the incongruous heels at once.

      At any other time, the so-called shoes—consisting of two narrow straps across her toes and ribbons wound around her ankles, paper-thin soles and those slim, long, spiked heels—would have looked sexy. Worn with jeans and a field jacket over a green camp shirt, they looked ludicrous…and sexy.

      Brianna stood there waiting for him, her gear piled next to her left leg, the strap handle of a rifle carrier in her right hand by her side. To his chagrin, her gorgeous mass of auburn hair was tucked away inside a New York Yankees baseball cap. He felt plain, ordinary and underdressed in black jeans, a black leather jacket and sturdy boots. He also had pulled his hair away from his face, tied it with a leather thong at his nape.

      Stepping from the SUV, Tanner circled around the back to open the trunk lid. The hotel doorman stashed the gear next to Tanner’s. Before he could dip into a pocket to tip the man, Brianna handed him a couple bills and uttered a soft, “Thank you.”

      “Good morning,” Tanner said to her.

      “Mmm,” she hummed in reply, turning away to get into the front passenger seat.

      It would appear she was still ticked off at him. Tanner sighed and slid behind the wheel. Mentally shrugging, he drove away from the hotel, heading out of Durango.

      “I love your shoes,” he drawled. “I can just imagine you tromping around rough mountainous terrain in them.”

      She laughed. “I’d hoped you’d appreciate them.”

      “Oh, I do. They’re spectacular, and the color is perfect. Glittery gold straps go great with jeans, field jackets and caps.”

      “I thought so.” She laughed again when he flashed her a grin. “I’m sorry to have to disappoint you, but I won’t be wearing them to tromp around any rough terrain. I do have hiking boots with me.”

      “Aw, gee, that’s too bad,” he said. “I was looking forward to watching you try to keep up with me.” Now the quick look he sent her was glittery with teasing. “Then again, I’ll likely still be watching you try to keep up with me.”

      “In your dreams,” Brianna shot back. “What you’ll likely be watching is my back.”

      Tanner couldn’t help himself; he roared with laughter. She was so damned sure of herself, so boldly feisty. He also couldn’t help but admire her. On the spot, he decided it was probably because she reminded him of himself.

      “We’ll see,” he said, still chuckling.

      “Yes, I guess we will.” She grew quiet, gazing out through the windshield and side window at the landscape as it changed from mountainous to flatter, barren desert.

      “Where are we going?” she asked.

      “Not far from Mesa Verde.”

      “Mesa Verde? I thought you said our quarry was headed deep into the San Juan Mountains.”

      “What I said was I had picked up a rumor that he was heading there.” He spared her a brief glance. “Before I go tearing into the mountains, I want to check out the rumor for myself.”