Her Sweet Talkin' Man. Myrna Mackenzie
admiration in his voice didn’t escape Ace’s notice. Neither did the fact that most women would find Cross’s black hair and green eyes irresistible. A powerful surge of something possessive streaked through Ace, and he frowned slightly.
“You have an interest in the lady?” Ace couldn’t stop himself from asking, even though he cursed himself for doing so.
Jared raised one brow. “Of course. A purely professional one.” He frowned. “What did you say your last name was? Carson? Does that mean you’re related to the Mission Creek Carsons?”
Ace shrugged. “I never knew my father. Do I look like a Mission Creek Carson to you?” He chuckled, flipping open his jacket to reveal the frayed dark blue lining.
“I get your point,” Jared said. “The Carsons own a substantial chunk of the town.”
“I guess I don’t qualify, then. Pleased to have met you, though.” He shook Jared’s hand and began to move on, his gaze sweeping the room.
“She’s over there,” Jared said with a grin, indicating Crystal’s new location.
Ace chuckled. “Okay, I’m more than intrigued,” he admitted as he nodded to Cross and moved away.
He also admitted that he had probably done enough for tonight. The framework of what he intended was in place. He ought to be pleased. People were wondering who he was. They were finding out that he was a bit of a flirt, a bit of a tease, illegitimate, possibly a fly-by-night but amiable rogue, and they were beginning to wonder if he couldn’t, in some way, be related to Ford Carson.
Ace glanced around at the men he’d identified earlier as Carsons from the descriptions he’d been given. Matt, Flynt. Ford didn’t appear to be here. At least not yet.
No matter. He had time and patience.
He scanned the room, looking to see if his target was arriving, but at that moment he saw Crystal again. She was standing in a corner, nearly against a wall, and a thin man with dirty-blond hair and a goatee was watching her from across the lawn. Somehow, unlike the other men who had surrounded her earlier, this one didn’t look as if he was waiting for her to smile. He didn’t look as if he’d even noticed that the lady had soft pink lips made for kissing again and again. He looked extremely upset.
Moreover, he looked as if he had business with Crystal. Not good business, either, Ace surmised, as the man began to take quick, deliberate steps toward her.
Just then, a woman came up to Ace and started talking to him. Ace listened with only one ear.
But while he listened he had a feeling that, wise or not, he was going to end up speaking to Crystal Bennett again.
Soon.
He only hoped he would remember she was a lady, a vulnerable lady, and he was a man she wasn’t going to like for very long. Not if she liked this town and the true Carsons.
Crystal could feel Ace’s eyes on her. Every time she’d looked up, it seemed, he had been grinning, flirting with the women gathered here, who were all beginning to fan themselves whenever he drew near.
Not that she could blame them. He was tall enough to make a woman feel faint, his blue eyes promised long nights of raw pleasure, and his mouth…well, just thinking about that slash of a mouth made her stomach flutter.
She’d had to keep reminding herself that she was here to ensure a smooth party and a flawless ceremony. Besides, she didn’t go near good-looking flirts anymore. She’d had more than her share of them in so many ways. But oh, my, Ace was going to fuel some very powerful fantasies tonight. Not just hers, either. She bet that half the women in the room were going to dream of him in their beds tonight, dropping feverish kisses on their naked skin.
She fanned herself with a program.
“Well, look here what I’ve found. If it isn’t little Crystal Bennett still looking like the slut she is.”
Crystal gave a start at the familiar, raspy voice from her past. To her chagrin, her first move on hearing the ugly accusation was to look down at her suit. Although her outfit ended just above her knee, it was very demure, a plain skirt and short-sleeved jacket that were neither too snug nor cut too low.
She forced herself to look up, despite the fear spiraling through her, nearly choking her. Branson Hines stood before her, his lank dirty hair disheveled, his black eyes slightly crazed. He was staring at her jacket as if he could see right through it.
Automatically, she raised her hand to cover herself. She reminded herself that she was in a crowded gathering, even if she was standing in a rather deserted area at the moment, beneath the shadow of some trees. Besides, she was a grown woman now. She didn’t have to let Branson intimidate her anymore.
“Branson,” she said as smoothly as she could manage, pretending he had said nothing out of the ordinary. “I hope you’re enjoying the ceremonies.” She didn’t hold out her hand as she would have to anyone else. “But I’m afraid I have business to attend to now. If you’ll excuse me.”
She tried to move around him to head back to the relative safety of the more crowded area.
He put one hand across her path. She changed direction and he grabbed her wrist.
“You don’t like being called a slut, Crystal? I don’t see why not,” he said. “After all, that’s what you are, isn’t it? Your son is a bastard, isn’t he? You let his father into your bed when you weren’t married. How many men have there been since then? Or do you just say yes to every man who wants you?”
Panic and fear rose in her throat. His grip on her wrist tightened as he leaned close enough for her to smell his sour breath. His grimy fingers cut into her skin.
“Let me go, Branson,” she said, trying to sound calm. She would not make a scene or allow him to ruin the proceedings for the maternity wing. Branson was not a huge man. Surely she could get away. Years ago there had been another day when he had made ugly remarks to her, but he had never actually tried to hurt her. At least not physically.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll let you go just yet,” he said, reeling her in. “You share your favors with other men you’re not married to, but I’ve never even touched you. I always wanted to touch you.”
She opened her mouth. To order him away or to scream, she wasn’t sure which.
But he yanked her hard and pulled her up against him. A cry ripped from her throat as she shoved at him and tried to keep his lips from getting near hers. Her wrists were burning as he twisted them and held fast, shoving his face into hers.
“Please. No,” she said. “Don’t.”
“I never even had a kiss,” he said. He pressed his wet lips to hers. She fought the blackness that threatened to envelop her as he tried to hold her still and she struggled to pull away. His laughter mocked her pitiful efforts.
And then she was free, the cool air rushing over her face. Branson was kicking at someone. She blinked to clear her eyes and saw that Ace had Branson’s arm pulled up behind his back.
“You don’t want to touch a lady who hasn’t invited you,” Ace said, his voice low and cold. “That’s not exactly the way to win points with a woman. It’s definitely not a gentlemanly thing to do, now is it?”
Branson swore and tried to wrest his arm free. “She’s not exactly a lady in my book.”
Ace spun Branson around, shoving him up against a tree, his arm lodged against Branson’s windpipe, leaving him barely enough air to breathe, judging by Branson’s choked gurgling. “Then maybe you’ve been reading the wrong book, buddy. Now, I’m going to ease up on you real slow, and I want you to tell the lady you’re sorry you touched her, that you’re sorry you even dared to come near her.”
Ace eased the pressure on Branson’s throat, and the man muttered an even fouler word. He tried to break free.
With barely