“It was his fault.She could put the blame for this entirely on Brian Donnelly's shoudlers.If he hadn't been so insufferable,if he hadn't been there being insufferable when Chad had called, she wouldn't have agreed to go out to dinner.And she wouldn't have spent nearly four hours being bored brainless when she could've been doing something more useful.Like watching paint dry.There was nothing wrong with Chad, really.If you only had,say,half a brain, no real interest outside of the cut of this year's designer jacket and were thrilled by a rip-roaring debate over the proper way to serve a triple latte,he was the perfect companion.Unfortunately,she didn't gualify on any of those levels. Right now he was droning on about the painting he'd bought at a recent art show. No,not the painting,Keeley thought wearily. A discussion of the painting,of art,might have been the medical miracle that prevented her from slipping into a coma.But Chad was discoursing-no other word for it-on The Investment.He had the windows up and the air conditioning clasting as they drove. It was a perfectly beautiful night, she mused, but putting the windows down meant Chad's hair would be mussed. Couldn't have that.At least she didn't have to attempt conversation. Chad preferred monologues. What he wanted was an attractive companion of the right family and tax bracket who dressed well and would sit quietly while he pontificated on the narrow areas of his interest.Keeley was fully aware he'd decided she fit the bill,and now she'd only encouraged him by agreeing to this endlessly tedious date.”

“But you must admit,it's taking up an inordinate amount of your time. Why it's taken us six months to have dinner together.""Is that all?"He misinterpreted the quiet response, and the gleam in her eyes.And leaned toward her.She slapped a hand on his chest. "Don't even think about it.Let me tell you something,pal.I do more in one day with my school than you do in a week of pushing papers in that office your grandfather gave you between your manicures and amaretto lattes and soirees. Men like you hold no interest for me whatsoever,which is why it's taken six months for this tedious little date.And the next time I have dinner with you,we'll be slurping Popsicles in hell.So take your French tie and your Italian shoes and stuff them."Utter shock had him speechless as she shoved open her door.As insult trickled in,his lips thinned. "Obviously spending so much time in the stables has eroded your manners, and your outlook.""That's right, Chad." She leaned back in the door. "You're too good for me. I'm about to go up and weep into my pillow over it.""Rumor is you're cold," he said in a quiet, stabbing voice. "But I had to find out for myself."It stung,but she wasn't about to let it show. "Rumor is you're a moron. Now we've both confirmed the local gossip."He gunned the engine once,and she would have sworn she saw him vibrate. "And it's a British tie."She slammed the car door, then watched narrow-eyed as he drove away. "A British tie." A laugh gurgled up,deep from the belly and up into the throat so she had to stand, hugging herself, all but howling at the moon. "That sure told me."Indulging herself in a long sigh, she tipped her head back,looked up at the sweep of stars. "Moron," she murmured. "And that goes for both of us."She heard a faint click, spun around and saw Brian lighting up a slim cigar. "Lover's spat?""Why yes." The temper Chad had roused stirred again. "He wants to take me to Antigua and I simply have my heart set on Mozambique.Antigua's been done to death."Brian took a contemplative puff of his cigar.She looked so damn beautiful standing there in the moonlight in that little excuse of a black dress, her hair spilling down her back like fire on silk.Hearing her long, gorgeous roll of laughter had been like discovering a treasure.Now the temper was back in her eyes,and spitting at him.It was almost as good.He took another lazy puff, blew out a cloud of smoke. "You're winding me up, Keeley.""I'd like to wind you up, then twist you into small pieces and ship them all back to Ireland.""I figured as much." He disposed of the cigar and walked to her. Unlike Chad, he didn't misinterpret the glint in her eyes. "You want to have a pop at someone." He closed his hand over the one she'd balled into a fist, lifted it to tap on his own chin. "Go ahead.""As delightful as I find that invitation, I don't solve my disputes that way." When she started to walk away, he tightened his grip. "But," she said slowly, "I could make an exception.""I don't like apologizing, and I wouldn't have to-again-of you'd set me straight right off."She lifted an eyebrow.Trying to free herself from that big, hard hand would only be undignified.”

“There was nothing wrong with being able to handle things herself. Nothing wrong with wanting to.And she did appreciate Brian's help.And she didn't need caffeine."I like caffeine," she grumbled. "I enjoy it, and that's entirely different from needing it.Entirely.I could give it up anytime I wanted, and I'd barely miss it."Annoyed,she snagged the soft drink she'd left on a shelf and guzzled. All right,so maybe she would miss it. But only beause she liked the taste. It wasn't like a craving or an addiction or...She couldn't say why Brian popped into her head just then.She was certain if he'd seen her staring in a kind of horror at a soft drink bottle, he'd have been amused.It was debatable what his reaction would be if he'd realized she wasn't actually seeing the bottle, but his face.No,that wasn't a need, either, she thought quickly. She did not need Brian Donnelly. It was attraction.Affection-a cautious kind of affection.He was a man who interested her, and whom she admired in many ways. But it wasn't as if she needed..."Oh God."It had to be overreaction, she decided, and set the bottle aside as carefully as she would have a container of nitro. What she was going through was something as simple as overromanticizing an affair. That would be natural enough, she told herself, particularly sice this was her first.She didn't want to be in love with him. She began wielding the pitchfork vigorously now, as if to sweat out a fever.She didn't choose to be in love with him. That was even more important.When her hands trembled she ignored them and worked harder still.By the time her mother joined her, Keeley had herself under control enough to casually ask Adelia to work in the office while she exervised Sam.Keeley Grant had never run from a problem in her life,and she wasn't about to start now.She saddled her mount,then rode off to clear her head before she dealt with the problem at hand.”

“He'd find out, he thought and nodded as he rose. " Are you worried about you? " It surprised her, the gentleness in his voice, the light brush of his knuckles over her jaw. She could lean against him, she realized with a jolt. She could lay her head on that shoulder, close her eyes, and for a moment at least, everything would be all right. She nearly stepped forward before she decided it would be foolish. " You're not going to be nice to me, are you? " " Maybe. " It might have been the confusion in her eyes, or that sultry scent that wafted from her skin, but he needed to touch. He laid his hands on her shoulders, rubbed while his eyes stayed on hers. " Do you need help?”

“Oh God,was all Keeley could think. Oh God, get me out of here.When they swung through the stone pillars at Royal Meadows,she had to fight the urge to cheer."I'm so glad our schedules finally clicked. Life gets much too demanding and complicated, doesn't it? There's nothing more relaxing than a quiet dinner for two."Any more relaxed, Keeley thought, and unconsciousness would claim her. "It was nice of you to ask me, Chad." She wondered how rude it would be to spring out of the car before it stopped, race to the house and do a little dance of relief on the front porch.Pretty rude,she decided.Okay, she'd skip the dance."Drake and Pamela-you know the Larkens of course-are having a little soiree next Sunday evening.Why don't I pick you up at eightish?"It took her a minute to get over the fact he'd actually used the word soiree in a sentence. "I really can't Chad. I have a full day of lessons on Saturday. By the time it's done I'm not fit for socializing.But thanks." She slid her hand to the door handle, anticipating escape."Keeyley,you can't let your little school eclipse so much of your life."Her and stiffened,and though she could see the lights of home, she turned her head and studied his perfect profile. One day,someone was going to refer to the academy as her little school, and she was going to be very rude.And rip their throat out.”

“She took his hand, fumbled with the door herself. Breathless, she would have stumbled if he hadn't caught her. "Teach me to wear heels in the damn stable," she muttered. "My legs are shaking."With a nervous laugh she turned back to him. Her legs stopped trembling. At least she couldn't feel them. All she could feel now was the unsteady skipping of her heart.He was staring at her, his eyes intense. When she'd turned his hands had reached up to frame her face. "You're so beautiful."She'd never believed words like that mattered. They were so easily, and so often carelessly, said. But they didn't seem easy from him.And there was nothing careless about the tone of his voice.”

“Well,I appreciate the offer, Senator, but I'll drive myself.See you over the canapes.""Then, I'll ride with you," he said amiably. "We don't want to put any more carbon monoxide in the air than necessary. Shall I put that in the car for you?"Shelby took a firmer grip on the box as her hold in other areas started to slip. It was the damn serious smile and those thoughtful eyes,she decided. They made a woman feel as though she were the only one he'd ever looked at in quite that way."Alan," she began,a bit amused by his persistance. "What is this?""This..." He leaned over and captured her mouth with his, lingering until her fingers threatened to dig holes in the stif cardboard she held. "Is what our ancestors would have called a siege," he finished softly. "And MacGregors are notoriously successful at laying siege."Her breath shuddered out to merge with his. "You don't do badly at hand-to-hand combat either." He chuckled and would have kissed her again if she hadn't managed to step back. "All right." Shelby thrust the box into his arms, considering it a strategic move. "We'll carpool.I don't want to be condemned as an air-polluter.”