Dare to Love by user (read dune TXT) 📗

“You’re just like those heathens over there,” she shot back, then instantly felt a stab

of guilt. He had kept her from falling. She could have at least thanked him. Mortal embarrassment obviously outweighed politeness.

His eyes hardened, darkening to a rich, coffee color. “Wait just a damn minute.

These guys might not be the refined upper crust that you associate with, but they’re

decent, hardworking men. Just because you don’t have a sense of humor is no reason to

look down your nose at them.”

Lucy straightened the jacket of her suit and lifted her chin. “I’ve never looked down

my nose at them. I just think it would be more appropriate if they kept their comments to

themselves.”

He crossed his arms and leaned against the light pole. “Why? Can’t take a compliment?”

She sniffed. “I can take compliments just fine, thank you, when they’re positive as opposed to degrading.”

“I heard what they said. Nothing degrading about it. You’re just a snob.” How dare he call her a snob? She was the least snobby person she knew, and she knew plenty of people who could easily be classified that way. His comment cut deep,

because she’d always prided herself on trying to get to know people in all walks of life.

Unlike her father and grandfather, who turned up their noses at anyone not in their small

social circle. She found that type of elitist attitude appalling.

And she wasn’t like them. Not at all.

“I am not a snob. I just don’t appreciate being ogled and harassed while walking down the street.”

“First off, you weren’t being harassed. Second, yeah, you were being ogled, and why

would that bother you?” Amusement colored his eyes back to that dreamy whisky shade.

“Not used to the attention? Understandable, considering your attitude.” Why was she even having a conversation with this idiot? He was baiting her, she knew it, and still she stood her ground. If she had any sense at all she’d simply walk

away.

But something about him got to her. “I get plenty of attention.” He snorted. “Yeah right. From those uppity suit types who wouldn’t know what to do with a woman if she fell right into the middle of their balance sheets.” Lucy resisted the urge to smile at that comment, knowing several men who fit that

description. She’d even dated some of them. Boring as financial statements, too.

Instead, she decided to turn the tables. “And I suppose you know exactly what to do

with a woman?”

Oh why couldn’t she learn to keep her mouth shut?

His full lips curled upward, transforming his tanned face into a work of art. A strong

jaw sprinkled with a sexy dose of stubble lent him an outlaw look that made her pulse

race faster. She felt the heat like a slap of lightning.

“Damn straight I know what to do with a woman. Would you like me to show you?”

She’d walked right into that one. Suddenly at a loss for words, her idiotic mind conjured up images of him doing just that. She shook her head, vehemently expressing

her denial to both him and herself. “No, thanks.”

“Too bad.” He dug his well worn work boots into the dirt along the side of the road.

“You’ll never know what you missed.”

“Doubtfully anything,” she lied, unable to believe she was still there. But something

about him compelled her to stay. Maybe it was the pure enjoyment of sparring with

someone who wasn’t stuffy and boring. He had a generous wit and intelligence that

belied his occupation. Plus he wasn’t half bad to look at.

“You’re not my type, anyway.” His eyes twinkled with amusement in the afternoon

sun. He was enjoying this.

This was her own fault. She’d stayed. Now it was a game of one-upmanship. And she hated to lose. “And, what, exactly, is your type?”

“Someone who wants to have fun. You’re too straight-laced and tight a— Uh, uptight to enjoy anything but high tea or a rousing game of bridge.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought of having to endure either of those activities.

He knew so little about her. “I’ll have you know I am tons of fun.” Yeah right.

When was

the last time she actually had a good time doing anything? She couldn’t remember.

“Prove it. Go out with me.”

Her heart thudded against her ribs before skidding to a complete halt. It took her a

second to find her voice before she could say, “Excuse me?”

“Go out with me. Take a walk on the wild side. Or are you too afraid you’ll get your

perfectly manicured hands a little dirty?”

She looked down at hands that fit his exact description, then back up at him. For a brief second she had actually felt guilty because of who she was. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Well?”

Great. She’d dug herself one incredible hole now. It would be easy to claim she’d been joking and merely walk away. She didn’t even know the man’s name, nor anything

about him. Except the fact he was fine looking and had sent her hormones speeding in a

direction they’d never been before.

“Umm…”

He nodded, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Thought so. See you around.” He pivoted

toward the nearby trailer.

“Wait!”

Oh God, had she just said that? He stopped and turned his head. Lord was he sexy,

giving her that half-lidded gaze over his shoulder. And what incredible shoulders they

were. Now that she’d opened her mouth, what was she going to do?

“Yeah?”

No, Lucy. Walk away. Do not do this. But that little niggling reminder of her father’s

excessive control over her life pushed her into doing something that was completely out

of character for her.

“I’ll go out with you.” She waited for the feeling of dread to settle over her, but instead it felt right.

He tilted his head and smiled, then walked back to her and held out his hand.

“Well,

aren’t you brave? Jake. Jake Dalton.”

Jake. Now he had a name. She slid her hand in his and immediately felt the searing

contact. His rough, callused palms scraped against her sensitive skin, sending shivers up

her arm. “Lucy Fairchild.”

“Okay, Lucy Fairchild, we’ll