Myrna Mackenzie

Her Sweet Talkin' Man


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She did her very best to ignore the foolish feeling that she wanted that hand sliding down her back someday, urging her close.

      Because right now she had a feeling that Ace just needed a hand to hold, and that he wasn’t used to feeling that way.

      Tomorrow they were both going to regret this moment. But right now she had today to contend with.

      She’d become very good at never looking at tomorrow, at the possibilities or disappointments the next day might bring. Now she had to work at it even harder.

      Now there was Ace.

      Temptation.

      She wondered if she was strong enough to resist the pull of him. Above all, she didn’t want to wake up alone in bed one day soon with the imprint of a man’s body on her sheets and his license plate fading away in the distance. Not again. Never again.

      But she wouldn’t think about that now.

      “Are you really Ford’s son?” she whispered.

      Blue eyes met hers. She shivered.

      “Afraid so,” he said. “And I’m real sorry about all this.”

      Crystal closed her eyes. The last time a man had said something like that to her, he had been leaving. And her life had never been the same.

      “So are you really related to us?” Fiona asked Ace a few minutes later.

      He nodded and looked down into Fiona’s inquisitive green eyes. “You don’t look very surprised,” he said.

      She laughed. “You don’t look like any Carson I’ve ever met before. Besides, surprised or not, I’m good at hiding things when I have to. And maybe I just don’t believe you.”

      “Fiona,” Crystal said, and he swung his gaze to the woman who had grasped his hand as if trying to protect him, the lady who had been the focus of his attention all afternoon, despite his every effort to ignore her. Her hazel eyes were clouded with worry, and her grip on his hand was tight and cold. He gave himself a mental kick for letting her get caught in the middle of this charade between him and a family who, until now, hadn’t known he even existed. He knew so little about her.

      Only that some man—no, make that two men—had treated her badly.

      His grip on her hand tightened, and she gave a soft gasp.

      Immediately he released her. “I’m sorry,” he said, “and don’t go worrying about me. I’m not upset because Fiona thinks I may be lying.” He wouldn’t tell her that it was she he worried about. She’d already assured him several times today that she was fully able to manage her affairs. He wanted to smile at the memory of how hard she’d argued her case, but he refrained from doing so. He knew she was capable. Everyone had told him so, but if she thought there was a man in the world who wouldn’t want to champion her whether she welcomed it or not, then she didn’t know much about men. And she had been threatened tonight. He couldn’t forget that. He didn’t think she could either, even though she was doing an admirable job of trying. He supposed a woman alone did a lot of that. No, he knew a woman alone did a lot of that.

      Plus, he had a feeling that, mother or not, Crystal Bennett did not know very much at all about men. She brought out a protective side of him—the urge to keep her close enough to watch over her—that he didn’t like admitting to. It just didn’t fit into his plans, plans he’d been making for three months. Maybe plans that had been born thirty-six years ago. Not the kind of thing he could let go of just because he was worried about one small, brave, fierce woman.

      “So should I believe that you’re really related to me, that my father sired you?” Fiona asked him, breaking into his thoughts. “And if I should, why should I?”

      He shook his head. “I wouldn’t if I were you. After all, you seem like a smart lady. You probably already know the rules. Never believe anything a man tells you.”

      She studied him for a second, then exchanged a disbelieving look with Crystal. “Even my husband?”

      He smiled at her patient tone. “You’re right, ma’am. I stand corrected. Never trust a man, unless he’s proved himself by putting a ring on your finger.”

      “So once a man puts a ring on your finger, he becomes instantly trustworthy?” Crystal asked, crossing her arms and staring at him incredulously.

      Ace blinked. He almost smiled at her combative stance. “Why do I feel like I’m caught in the sights of a rifle with the two of you firing the questions? But yes, I get your point, and you’re absolutely right. Some men never do become trustworthy, ring or no ring.” Like him, he supposed. Wasn’t he here to disrupt the lives of people she no doubt cared about?

      “Hmm, I’m offering to take you to meet my family, and you’re telling me that you can’t be trusted?” Fiona raised a brow.

      “That’s right,” he said softly.

      To his surprise, she suddenly smiled. “I think I like you, Ace. You’re direct, no pretense. That’s a Carson trait, you know.”

      Ace nearly groaned. He didn’t want to have any Carson traits. The less he had in common with his so-called relatives the better.

      Crystal seemed to sense his consternation. “Are you all right?” She gazed up at him with her pretty, worried eyes. For a moment he couldn’t look away.

      Fiona chuckled.

      Immediately Ace and Crystal turned to her. “Something funny, little sister?” Ace asked.

      “Just enjoying myself,” she said. “You know, I had expected this event to be rather dull, in spite of all Crystal’s hard work. How nice to find out I was wrong. Lots of surprises today.” She looked pointedly at her friend, and Ace didn’t miss Crystal’s blush.

      “Shall we go?” he asked. “No time like the present to meet up with the past.”

      His voice was nearly expressionless, and Fiona winced. “Maybe I’d better go ahead. Daddy’s heart might need some warning of what he has in store. Can you make sure that Ace gets there in one piece, Crystal?”

      Crystal laughed. “If you knew how my day had been going, you wouldn’t be asking that. Still, I think Ace will probably manage to get us all there intact.”

      “All?” he asked.

      “I’m sorry, I should have said something. I need to pick up my son. Will that be a problem? If it is, I know any number of other people who are going to the Lone Star. I’m sure it would be no problem to find someone to escort you there.”

      He gazed down at her totally trusting expression and felt something he didn’t want to feel. Guilt? The lady didn’t know what he had in mind. She was good at talking people into doing things, as evidenced by this stunning addition to the hospital she’d managed to procure funding for. She would just as easily obtain passage for him to the country club. He’d warned her that his intentions couldn’t be trusted, and yet she was planning to help him find a ride to the country club, anyway. She was prepared to take on more work in finding him a ride. Because she was afraid that he would object to sharing a car with her little boy? What kind of a man would run from a child?

      But he knew the answer. Any number of men. The boy’s father. His own father.

      “I’d like to meet Timmy,” he said, even though he knew this was dangerous territory. The woman was enticing. He needed to keep his distance, and he had absolutely no business at all bringing another innocent into his mess. Especially a child.

      No question, he was going to have to be careful where Crystal was concerned.

      Maybe he’d better start thinking about that seriously right now, instead of thinking that he’d like to fold her into his arms and take anything that she was willing to give.

      Four

      “Hey, partner, that’s