by Renee Wynn
Brick finally glanced toward him. “Oh, it’s you.” Then he turned his back to Brody, ignoring him completely and continued the dance, trying to move away.
Brody clasped his shoulder. Brick stumbled almost stepping on Danielle’s feet.
“Damn, Beaumont. What’s the hell wrong with you?” Brick roared. Brody ignored him.
Not to be deterred, Brody reached for her but she pulled away automatically evading his touch. Her reaction caused his gut to clench with tension. It bothered him that she didn’t want to be touched by him.
Brown eyes that seemed both depthless and flat under a pair of perfectly arched eyebrows fileted him. He felt the sharpness as it moved over his skin, causing him to inwardly jerk in pain.
“Brody,” she said with irritation. “What are you doing here?”
“You know him?” Brick asked her with hardness lacing his words but kept his eyes glued to Brody’s.
Brody tilted his head waiting for to answer.
The silence stretched awkwardly until finally she said, “Not really. He’s a friend of my best friend’s husband.”
A wry grin lifted the corner of his lips at her answer. She’d dismissed him, which only made him more determined. He stretched forth a hand toward her.
“Will you dance with me?”
She looked at his hand and then lifted her eyes to his without comment and stared. There was no emotion. He wanted to run his fingers along her cheek and across her lips to make her aware of him, just him and not the tall man hovering at her side. It felt like an eternity but he waited. Finally she placed her hand in his. He quickly wrapped his fingers strongly around her hand afraid she would change her mind, his arms around her waist, and pulled her close but left space between them.
Brick placed his large frame in between them, causing Brody to release Danielle’s hand. He effectively blocked Brody from her view.
“We haven’t finished our dance, little filly.” He ran his hands up and down Danielle’s arms.
Brody gritted his teeth to keep from throwing a punch to the arrogant bastard’s face.
“Just say the word,” Brick said to Danielle. You don’t have to dance with him.”
His voice was cajoling, husky and filled with promise, which continued to irritate the hell out of Brody.
She rested her hand on his arm. “Rain check?” she said and offered a genuine smile.
Brick laughed. “Okay, darlin, I’m going to hold you to it.”
Then he hugged her and she allowed it. Brody knew it was to get him riled which it did, but he didn’t show it. With a curt nod at Brody, Brick turned and walked toward the bar.
Brody struggled regain control of his anger. She looked everywhere but at him. He pulled her gently but firmly into his arms, placing one arm around her waist, letting his fingers rest just above her hip bone. With the other hand, he entwined his fingers with hers and brought them against his chest. She stiffened at the intimacy; he moved her closer and made rings against the skin near her thumb. Breathing became difficult—for both of them. It felt good. He relaxed against the feeling, enjoying having her in his arms again.
They began a slow hip-to-hip move, breast to breast, around the room.
Brody stared at her but she kept her eyes averted and roamed around the room. As long as she was in his arms, he didn’t care. Explaining and making up for what he did would take time and he would give her that.
“Stay away from Brick Horne.”
“Go to hell, Brody.”
“I mean it. Stay away from him.”
“I like him.”
“You don’t know him.”
“I don’t know you either.”
“He’s not into commitment.”
Her laugh was cynical. “And you are?”
“Don’t go there, Danielle.”
“Ah, I hit a nerve.”
“You want to be difficult.”
“I only just began. Anyway, I’m not asking Brick to marry me. Besides what gives you the right to judge anyone? Brick’s a nice guy and he can dance.”
He leaned back and frowned. “Dance? What the hell does that have to do with anything?”
“Well, a good dancer with moves, no telling what he can do in the bed—”
“Stop it Danielle before you make me mad.”
“Go ahead. I dare you.”
“Damnit, what’s gotten into you?”
“Common sense.”
Anger lay between them like the torn down East Berlin wall, thick and hard to penetrate.
They continued the dance in silence with him staring hard at her as she kept her eyes turned away from him.
“Look at me, Danielle.”
She fixed her gaze on his. “Is that a command?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Why must our conversation always start a battle between us?”
“You are a long way from Texas, Brody,” she said, wearily.
“So are you.”
“I’m here on a photo shoot.”
“I thought high fashion found more exotic locales.”
She stopped dancing, tilted her head, studying him. “What are you doing?” she asked again. “I told you to stay away from me. I meant it.”
“You’re on my turf.” He examined her eyes and then grinned. “Montana is a big state, Danielle. Enough wide open space for the both of us.”
“You think this is funny?”
“There is nothing about our relationship to laugh about.”
“We don’t have a relationship. We aren’t even friends. The only reason I’m sharing the same air and space with you right now is because I don’t want to create a scene. However, if I really wanted to, I could curse your ass and call you every unkind name in the book.”
“You have the right.”
She frowned with distaste or was it hate? Painful jabs punctured his heart. He was out of his element and he didn’t know what to do. His breathing was choppy and he struggled for air.
“Let’s get out of here.”
“Have you lost your mind? I’m not going anywhere with you.”
“We need to talk.”
“No.”
“You want me to beg?”
“Yes.”
He was known to be fearless and aggressive by many.
He was known to transform the fortunes of small and large businesses, or consume them.
He was known to have the respect of politicians and royalty.
He spoke and people listened. Then she happened.
Now the sound of her voice and the look in her eyes transported him to the very edge of no return. This just didn’t happen to him, but it was happening.
He was lifeless—floating with nothing to anchor him.
“You’re being hard. It’s not like you.”
“I had good teachers.”
“Stop it, Danielle.”
She just stared at him with scrutiny so intense he felt raw and open, as if she had dissected every part of him.
“Please,” he grated out.
She didn’t blink at his plea. He remained still, exposed. She continued examining his face.
She crossed her arms. “Say whatever you have to say and let’s be done with it.”
“Not here.”
She remained stoic.
“Damnit, Danielle. There are too many eyes on us already. I’m sure they are inching closer to hear our conversation. This is between you and me not the entire town of Missoula and beyond.”
Silence strained between them for a long moment and then she threw a quick scan around the bar.
“I came with other people. I need to let them know.”
“No worries. We won’t go far. I promise to bring you back to the bar, hotel, wherever you want to go.”
“I thought you meant just outside.”
“This noise can be heard outside. People are coming and going. No privacy.”
She remained silent.
“I promise to
keep my hands to myself.”
She moved her head to one side and frowned. “Is that supposed to be a joke? If it is I’m not laughing.”
“I was trying to make you comfortable.”
“Don’t try.”
“Why not?”
“You rarely smile and cracking a joke is too farfetched. Be you, Brody, anything else is disingenuous.”
“Okay.”
“If I do go with you, don’t take it as forgiveness because it’s not.”
At that moment he would take what he could get and took her arm to guide her toward the door. A high shriek barreled across the room before they could exit through the doors and stopped them.
“Danielle!” Lee waved at Danielle from a bar stool and then hurried toward them. “Where are you going?”
“I’m going to a private talk with Brody.”
“No, you are not.”
“Go back to the bar, Lee. I got this.”
He threw a hand toward Brody. “I know you are not leaving with him. What the hell is Silenator doing in Missoula, Montana anyway?” He locked his head to the side and gave plenty of attitude.
“I have a ranch here,” Brody offered.
With fists planted on his hips, he swung a nasty look his way and frowned. “I was talking to Danielle, not you, asshole.”
“Stop it, Lee. Now.”
He shot Danielle an incredulous look. “You’re taking up for him? Unbelievable!” He then lifted an arched brow. “In all the backward country towns of America how did we end up in the one where you’re living?” This time Lee directed his words to him.
“Fate.” Brody placed his hand in the small of her back. “Danielle and I are leaving.”
“Whoa!” Lee stretched out his hands to stop them. “Wait one damn minute. Danielle came with me and she’s leaving with me.”
“Not tonight. She’s leaving here with me. I’ll take care of her.”
You didn’t do such a good job the last time,” he said, angrily. He rolled his eyes and turned to Danielle, “Is he forcing you to go with him? You better tell me the truth, girl.”
“Brody and I need to talk. I’ll be fine, Lee.”
“Honey, you have your phone.”
She nodded.
“You know the stress girl code. Use it.” He threw daggers at Brody. “If you hurt her, I’ll sift your ass like wheat.” He hissed and then sashayed away.
“I have never seen him so mad,” Brody said as he watched Lee strolled without a backward glance at them.
“That’s putting it lightly.”
“What did you tell him about us?”
“Nothing much. Just that it was over.”
“I’m the bad guy, right?”
“In his eyes, yes.”
“He’s still your bodyguard.”
She took a deep sigh. “Lee is protective of me.”
“So am I.”
Chapter Fifteen
They stopped in front of a high-end house surrounded by trees with large white pillars holding up the porch. Even though it was dark, she could see the beauty of the structure.
She closed her cellphone and looked out over the grounds seeing open spaces of darkness illuminated by the light of the full moon. Although, it was chilly and winter was rapidly coming to take residence, she liked the coolness against her skin. Doing a summer shoot in Montana, during winter, brought with it many challenges, one was posing in cropped tops, shorts and bare feet in near to close frigid temperatures but she’d fallen in love with the open space and freedom of the town.
“Where are we?”
“My home.”
“Your sanctuary away from Dallas. Impressive. Why did you bring me here?”
He helped her out of the car. “This is my real life.”
They moved to the large oak door with thick cut-out glass planes. Walking into the foyer, she caught her breath at the beauty of the inside. The house was warm and bright, which surprised her. Brody wasn’t a guy who appreciated color. She had only seen him wear black or dark blue. The only other color she’d seen on him was a white shirt at the Champagne Ball and a light green tie that had enhanced his gorgeous green eyes.
She scrutinized the interior. The house was larger inside than it appeared on the outside. As they moved further through the foyer, they came to a huge entranceway. Looking upward toward the huge circular bannister, she saw an opened second level. It was spacious and efficiently laid out.
They entered through a doorway that went into a hall with sepia-colored marble tiles where she glimpsed at a huge door leading into a den. It was decorated in a Native American motif. Beautiful area rugs with tribal signs and animal symbols were on the floor. The two sofas in the room held blankets with intricate paintings etched on them. A large picture of a Native American man, dressed in complete ceremonial garb and staring down at them hung above the fireplace staring down at them. There was no smile on his face but there was a prominent presence of wisdom and strength in his wrinkled reddish bronze features.
The man in the picture reminded her of someone. She continued to examine the man’s features. Then it hit her, it was an older version of Brody staring down at her.
She turned to him. “A relative?”
He was quiet for a long time that she didn’t believe he would answer.
“Yes,” he said.
She didn’t comment.
The moonlight streamed through the windows, casting a subtle but romantic vibration in the room. It was a complete mutiny to her current mood. She could hear the chirping of the wayward insects, calling to each other and the night animals claiming their territories.
She shivered. Brody went to the built in fireplace and started a fire. Before long, the room was comfortable and inviting. So much so it made her let down some of her guard and that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to hold on to her anger. She had a right to it. Didn’t she? While he increased the blaze of the fire, she walked to the oversized bay window and looked out into the night. It was an incredible evening, cold with the howl of the wind swaying through the trees. It was strange because the day had started with a fierce chill in the air, but the sky had been clear and sunny.
With the flames glowing in the hearth, the warmth created a cozy atmosphere in the room, which she wanted to believe, was totally due to the fire burning in the fireplace.
She didn’t want to acknowledge the shift in the atmosphere; better yet, she didn’t want to attribute it to Brody’s presence. She wanted to remain mad as hell and in a dark place where there was no evidence of forgiveness but the moment around her had other plans.
She kept telling herself that she should ask him to take her back to the bar but her inner voice was telling her not to. When he’d asked her if he needed to beg, she had felt powerful, but only for a moment. It didn’t give her the pleasure she sought.
For Brody, power was second nature. He’d been raised to command and did so readily. At the tender age of twelve, she’d been in awe of his looks and his strength. It was a childhood crush that had gravitated into her teenage years.
She continued to walk around the room, carefully picking up ornaments and admiring the detailed craftsmanship of each one.
Brody leaned against a wall, arms folded across his chest and watched her every move. She tried not to be aware of his penetrating stare. It made her nervous and she wondered what he was thinking. Something she would never know. He was a different kind of specie; a man who was known to be reclusive when he wanted to be and kept his thoughts to himself. He was a closed book to everyone, except maybe Sally. She honestly believed he loved his sister and would do anything for her. But Sally had told her and Nicole, a long time ago, Brody was a loner and didn’t share his feelings, thoughts or dreams.
Even as a budding teenager, she wanted to know what made him tick. She remembered, just once, asking him that question and he’d turned those bright green eyes on her, stared, and then just walked away. At the time she had been hurt by his abrupt mann
er but looking back she’s glad he didn’t remember the episode or her. It would’ve been embarrassing if he had.
He was an enigma but no less gorgeous. Since the last time she saw him, he’d added muscle to his tall physique. She had noticed it when he took her into his arms at the bar. His shoulders were broader and steady. Although he ran a billion dollar business, his hands told another story of a man who worked the land, they were rough with calluses but still gentle.
She searched for the next piece of the puzzle internally through her mind but before she could try to place it in the hole to see if it fit, his captivating voice broke through her thoughts.
“The carvings were done by the Cheyenne and the rugs by the Kootenai tribe.”
She hadn’t realized she was still standing in the same spot, staring at the same fixture for the last few minutes.
She turned to face him. “They are lovely.”
He was looking at her, not the carvings or the rugs.
“The man in the picture on the wall, who is he?”
“History.”
Danielle waited for him to say more. She found herself being held prisoner by his stark green gaze. She stared back but he only tilted his head and continued with an unrelenting hold.
“When we turned into the road that led here I noticed it’s the same road that we used for the fashion shoot. I didn’t know your place was in Missoula or so near to where we were shooting.”
He pushed away from the wall, walked toward her and gestured to a sofa.
“Please have a seat.”
She slid onto the chocolate leather cushion, leaned back, and tried to relax. She was glad when he selected to sit in a chair across from her, but still close enough that he could touch her if he chose to.
He dropped his hands between his legs and looked at them for a long moment. Finally he lifted his eyes to hers. “At Ashton’ and Nicole’s house I was a complete ass.”
“You think?” she said snippily. “You were rude, obnoxious and the biggest asshole I’d ever encountered.”
“You are not going to make this easy, are you?”
“Why should I? During a very brief phone conversation, I asked if you wanted to share a meal—Chinese for Christ sake, not marriage!” Anger oozed through every pore in her body.