Branded as Trouble (Rough Riders 6)

“I’m sure my cousin Blake would’ve been happy to escort you.

Or aren’t there any headboards here that he needs to fix?”

“You’re hilarious, McKay.”

Colt flashed his teeth. “I try.”

“I expected better from you.”

People around them were starting to stare.

“Meaning what?”

Through clenched teeth she said, “Meaning, I don’t need your f**king pity.”

“Why would I feel sorry for you?”

“Because no one else bid on my prize, and you’re throwing cash around like—”

“It’s my money and I can do what I want with it.”

“Were you buying the tattoo package as a gift for your date?”

He scowled.

“She’s not exactly the tattoo type, is she? And God forbid anyone else in this town would admit in public they’d pay to cavort with a low-class ink slinger like me.”

Fury darkened his eyes. “Watch it.”

She gave him an innocent look. “Did I insult her?”

“It ain’t my date you’re insulting, it’s yourself, and that pisses me off worse, so knock it the hell off. I expected better from you, sugar.”

“Don’t you sugar me, Colt McKay.” India tugged her wallet out of her back jeans pocket and unclipped the chain. “How about if I write you a check for a thousand bucks and we’ll call it even.”

“Put your money away.”

“I won’t be beholden to you for anything.”

“Too f**kin’ late and you’re treading on thin ice, India.”

She got right in his face. “So? I feel like stomping all over that ice, Colt, with sharp, pointy crampons to see who falls through the cracks first.”

“It looks like you’re the one who’s cracking up.”

“It’s your fault.”

“My fault? How do you figure?”

India smacked him in the chest with her wallet. “Because I’ve been trying to get in touch with you all week.”

“Why?”

Because I missed you, you clueless jerk. “Because you missed Tuesday night’s meeting.”

Colt stared at her with belligerence. “So? I’ve been busy.”

“You were too busy to come to a meeting?”

“Cut me some slack. I’ve missed one meeting in two and a half years.”

“I left you a bajillion messages.”

“I particularly liked the one where you called me a dickhead.”

That brought a small smile. “If the shitkicker fits…”

“Don’t f**k with me, India. I’m not in the mood.”

“Well, gee, I wouldn’t want anything to ruin your ‘mood’, especially since you have a hot date.” India bit her cheek to keep from lashing out further. “You know what? Forget it. All of it. Have a lovely evening with your horse-faced honey.”

Colt laughed and said, “Oh, no you don’t,” as he snatched her elbow. “We ain’t close to done with this conversation.”

“We are. Just leave me alone.”

“Like hell.”

Stupid tears flooded her eyes. She couldn’t blink them away fast enough and the stupid jerk saw she was about to bawl like a stupid baby.

“Sweet Jesus, are you cryin’?”

“No.” She jammed her wallet in her back pocket and attempted to flee.

“Dammit. Don’t you walk away like this.”

“Haven’t you humiliated me enough tonight?” India dodged people congregating in the hallways, fully aware they were gawking at her. And him. And them.

“Come back here.”

Burning gazes of strangers raked her inked skin as deeply as if they were wielding tattoo needles. Disgusted glances at her piercings pricked her as sharply as if they were holding a piercing gun. Normally she could give a rip about the stares, but tonight she had a hard time holding her head up, which pissed her off.

She didn’t get far before Colt clamped his fingers around her biceps. “Let me go.”

“Not a chance.”

“Where’s your date?”

“Shut up, Indy.”

“I hate you.”

“No, sugar, you don’t.”

More tears surfaced.

He dragged her downstairs. Smart people scattered at seeing the intent on Colt’s face and the fury in his every movement.

Taking a quick look around, he pulled her into a closet in the middle of the hallway. Then he stepped in front of the door, blocking her exit. “Start talkin’.”

India mimed zipping her lip and tossing away the key.

“You are the most annoying woman I’ve ever met.” Colt advanced on her. “For the record? There are lots of things I feel for you, but pity ain’t one of them.”

Her shoulders hit a wall.

“Still ain’t talkin’ to me?”

She shook her head.

Colt was a breath away. “I’ve got an idea on how you can put that smart mouth of yours to better use.”

Her lips parted. In protest or invitation? Dammit. Lately whenever they got within kissing distance all she could think about was locking lips with him. For hours. Days maybe.

“Well?”

“Fine. If you wanna talk so bad, why don’t you tell me one of the things you feel for me?”

“You couldn’t handle it right now because you’re mad and confused.”

“Mad? Yes. Confused? Where do you get off—”

“Look, at yourself. Why are you pushin’ me away with one hand, and pullin’ me closer with the other?”

“I’m not.” Then she noticed her right palm was flat against his chest shoving, while her left hand was bunched in his T-shirt pulling. “Nice try at changing the subject, but I know the real reason you won’t tell me.”

“What’s that?”

“In your dating… void over the last few years, your silver tongue has tarnished and you aren’t very good with words.”

“Is that so?” His eyes never left hers. “I wish you weren’t bein’ so damn difficult because we both know the real reason you’re fightin’ with me.”

“Wish granted.” She sidestepped him.

A hand clamped on her shoulder. He used the momentum to spin her against the wall again.

“Let me go. You’ve made it clear—”

“No, I haven’t.” His hands braceleted her wrists and he held them firmly by her sides. Colt eliminated the gap between their bodies and nestled his cheek against hers. Whiskers scraped her jaw, his soft lips brushed the side of her neck, his hot breath skittered across her damp skin with every exhalation.