Claiming King's Baby / Wyoming Wedding. Maureen Child

      “I don’t want to be—don’t you get that?”

      She felt the cold of his stare slice right into her, but Maggie had practice in facing down his crab-ass attitude. “Yes, Justice. I get it. Despite the great trouble you’ve taken in trying to hide how you feel about me being here, I get it.”

      His mouth flattened into a grim line, and she glared right back at him.

      “You still won’t leave, though, will you?”

      “No. I won’t. Not until you’re on the mend.”

      “I am mending.”

      “Not fast enough and you know it. So suck it up and let’s get the job done, all right?”

      “Stubbornest damn woman I’ve ever known,” he muttered darkly and, using his cane to take most of his weight, took the steps to the drive. The minute his feet hit the drive, both ranch dogs stopped their playing, leaped up, ears perked, then with yips of delight, charged at him.

      “Oh, for heaven’s sake.” Maggie jumped out in front of him to keep the too-exuberant dogs from crashing into Justice and bowling him right over, but it wasn’t necessary.

      “Angel. Spike.” Justice’s voice was like thunder, and when he snapped his fingers, both dogs instantly obeyed. As one, they skidded to a stop and dropped to the ground, their chins on their front paws as they looked up at him.

      Maggie laughed in spite of herself. Going down on one knee, she petted each of the dogs in turn, then looked up at the man watching her. “I’d forgotten just how good you were at that. The dogs always did listen to you.”

      One corner of his mouth quirked briefly. “Too bad I could never get you to do the same.”

      Straightening up, Maggie met his gaze. “I never was the kind of woman to jump at the snap of your fingers, Justice. Not for you, not for anyone.”

      “Wouldn’t have had you jump,” he told her.

      “Really. And what command would you have had me follow if you could?”

      He shifted his gaze from hers, looked toward the barn and the pastures beyond and said softly, “Stay.”