The Girl with the Golden Gun. Ann Major

red pigtails he’d felt so easy around?

      He ran a hand through his black hair and inhaled a quick, raspy breath.

      “Where’d you get that damn-fool dress?”

      “Borrowed it from Lizzy.”

      “Figures. You should have borrowed some shoes, too.”

      “Her feet are longer than mine.”

      Since he was bare-chested and black and blue all over, she could probably see every mark her bullying father had inflicted.

      He stood up straighter, maybe to intimidate her. “I wasn’t expecting company. I’d better put on my shirt.”

      “No. It’s probably soaking or something. You look…good.” She blushed again and lowered her eyes.

      “You shouldn’t throw away the presents people give you,” she said, pulling the screen door open.

      When she twirled the rose under his nose, he grabbed it and threw it on the floor.

      “Girl, don’t you know better than to come looking for me—tonight…after…”

      Shanghai notched his chin higher as he remembered regaining consciousness and finding Caesar Kemble standing over him, his hand still clenched into a fist and that awful grin on his face.

      “I shouldn’t have gone to your house tonight,” Shanghai said. “And you shouldn’t be here now.”

      “Don’t you care that I hate what my daddy did to you?”

      “No, I don’t care.”

      “Why do you hate me?”

      “Well, maybe ’cause your bunch has been stealing from my bunch for umpteen generations. Maybe tonight I want to be alone to sulk and drink and nurse my hatred for all things Kemble—including you.”

      “I saw you ride that bull last weekend at the Kingsville Rodeo. You were great.”

      He inhaled a couple of long, embarrassing breaths while she stared at his chest, and he tried not to stare at hers.

      “You’re very young,” he muttered.

      “What’s that got to do with anything?”

      “Plenty. Don’t you know nothin’? You’re not a kid anymore.”

      “I didn’t think you’d ever notice.”

      “Go home.”

      “No.”

      “I’m twenty-four.”

      “So?”

      “I’ve already got a girl.”

      “Wendy! I know.”

      “So go chase boys your own age.”

      Some of the sparkle went out of her eyes. Still, she was a vision in that white dress. He couldn’t very well throw her off his porch into the rain. Not when he didn’t trust himself to touch her.

      Still, the last thing Shanghai needed tonight was a sassy virgin from the Kemble bunch to tempt him even further down the road that led to hell.

      “Can I come in or not?” she whispered again.

      “No!”

      She laughed as she pulled the screen door open and sashayed past him.

      “Are you out of your mind? How many times have I warned you to stay the hell away from me, girl?”

      She pretended to count her fingers and then stopped. “Way too many.” She went to his cooler, opened it and grabbed a beer. Then she popped the top off using the edge of his table. She would have taken a long swig of the stuff if he hadn’t grabbed it from her and taken a healthy pull himself.

      “You’re not exactly the obedient type, are you?” He watched her as he took another long pull.

      “Are you?”

      That stopped him cold.

      “I was worried sick about you,” she said. “I had to come.”

      Her big, golden, long-lashed eyes met his. Again he noted the raindrops glistening like diamonds in her red hair. Most of all he fixated on that single sparkle that clung to the tip of her cute, upturned nose. She was wearing lipstick and eyeliner for a change.

      “If you’re looking to get yourself seduced, little girl, follow cowboys like me home and then throw yourself at them.”

      “You’re not like that, and we both know it. You’re nice.”

      “Nice? You don’t have the gumption God gave a horsefly. Guys aren’t nice. They’re all out to get you.”

      “Where’s Spot?”

      “At the house.”

      Her teeth chattered, and she rubbed her arms to warm herself.

      “If your daddy catches us together here, he’ll get one of his bought-off judges to railroad me into some prison until I’m old and gray. Come back when you’re eighteen.”

      “What if some other girl…like Wendy Harper gets you before then?”

      He didn’t answer.

      “I’m all wet and cold. You could offer me a blanket or your shirt or something.” She swallowed a quick breath, and he realized she was even more nervous than he was. Then she picked up the damp shirt that hung on the back of his chair and slipped her arms through the sleeves. When the long sleeves dangled many inches longer than her hands, she began to roll them up.

      “Why can’t you ever do what you’re told?”

      “Because then I don’t get what I want.” She paused, pulling his shirt close against her body. “Can I help it if I grew up spoiled instead of with a great big chip on my shoulder weighing me down?”

      “What if I grabbed you and snapped you against my chest? What if I gave you a kiss or two, would you leave me alone then and go chase somebody closer to your age?”

      She straightened up to face him. Beaming brightly, she puckered her lips. “Cross my heart and swear to die.”

      “You’re hopeless. Girls are supposed to let the guy do the chasin’,” he said.

      “That’s stupid. You’d never chase me.”

      “You’re too young.”

      “When I’m all grown up, eighteen, would you really want…”

      “You’re a Kemble.”

      “Kiss me,” she whispered in a low, hypnotic tone. “If my daddy runs you off like he said he would, this might be my last chance. Then I’d have to live my whole life without knowing…what you’re like.”

      Hardly knowing what he did, he strolled closer, leaned down and pecked her cheek lightly with his lips. The kiss accomplished, he intended to jump free. “There. Now go!”

      “That’s not the kind of kiss I meant, and you know it!”

      Her gentle hands circled his wide shoulders, and she seemed to melt into him as she clung tightly. Even as he fought to loosen her grip, he heated where her warm breath brushed his cheek. He noticed that her damp body, although slim and petite, nestled against his huge frame, felt more like a woman’s body than a child’s. Damn her hide, she was a perfect fit.

      His heart thudded painfully. He should burn in hell for this alone.

      “On the lips,” she pleaded. “Kiss me like you kissed Wendy at the rodeo.”

      “You little spy!”

      “Just once—please.”

      He yanked himself loose. Still, he admired the way she went after what she wanted.