An Indecent Proposal (Landon's Legacy 1)

“That wouldn’t have happened.”

“No?”

“No. All I did was burn some bread, and—”

“All you did was set the toaster on fire! As for the bread—” Cade swung away and yanked open the refrigerator door. “What bread are we talking about? You can’t mean that laboratory experiment in mold growth I saw last night!”

Angelica took a step toward him, her eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare yell at me, Cade Landon!”

“If you’re going to act like a damned fool, I have every right to yell! What were you doing down here in the first place? You’re supposed to be upstairs, in your bed.”

“Says who?”

Cade’s lips twisted. “The man who was with you when the scorpion stung you, who watched you collapse, who knows how woozy you were last night, that’s who!”

“I was flying on those pills last night. Besides, none of that gives you the right to—to bully me!”

He reached out and caught her by the shoulders. There was a dangerous glint in his eyes as he hauled her toward him.

“You know something, sugar? You keep accusing me of being a bully and I’m just liable to show you what a real bully is.”

“Don’t threaten me,” she said furiously. “I don’t like it.”

“Then listen to reason! Trying to pretend you’re fine when you’re not isn’t very bright, and neither is traipsing around in a blanket when you’re not steady on your feet.”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Angelica twisted away from him. “Don’t you think I thought of that? I tricd to get my robe on, but—”

“But you couldn’t.” Her silence was all the answer he needed. “Dammit,” he growled, “why didn’t you ask me for help?”

“Because—because…” Because I don’t need your help, she thought, because I resent being dependent on you—because I remember all too vividly how it felt to be undressed and in your arms….

“Well? Why didn’t you call me?”

Angelica moistened her lips. “You’re just ticked off because I didn’t tell you I was going to come downstairs.”

“Tell me?”

“That’s right, tell you that I was going downstairs to make my own breakfast in my own house!” She blew a stray curl off her forehead. “That’s what this is all about and you know it. You just can’t deal with a woman who can do for herself.”

“What I can’t deal with is a woman who’s determined to behave like a damned fool.”

She looked at him for a long moment and then she sighed.

“Look, I’m—grateful—for your assistance yesterday.”

Cade laughed. “The word sticks in your throat, doesn’t it?”

“Between the shock of the scorpion sting,” she said, ignoring the interruption, “and the effect of those pills, I wasn’t much good for anything. But now—”

“But now,” he said, “it’s time I got out of your way.”

“Cade, please. I’m trying to be polite, but—”

“Polite? You? Hell, you don’t know the meaning of the word!”

Angelica’s head came up. “Maybe you’re right,” she snapped. “But it’s hard to be polite to a man who invites himself to spend the night in your bedroom and then won’t tell you why.”

“Try this on for size, sugar. I called Emily, found out she was sick with the flu, went up to tell that to you—and found you sound asleep. I sat down, tried to decide what to do next—and the next thing I knew, it was morning and you were doing everything but using a cattle prod to show me just how pleased you were to see me.”

“Dammit, Cade…” Her breath caught. “Oh.”

“Oh? That’s it? Just, ‘oh’? No apologies for being nasty or for the fact that spending the night in that chair left me twisted like a pretzel? Just…” Cade frowned. “What’s wrong?” The oh had not been meant as a comment; one look at her pale face confirmed that. “Angelica.” He clasped her shoulders and eased her into a chair. “What is it?”

“I—I hit my hand against the table,” she said. Her smile was as shaky as her voice. “It’s nothing. Really, I’m fine.”

“Sure you are,” he said grimly. “Suppose we stop squabbling and check out that hand of yours.”

“It’s fine.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“Cade, really-”

It was useless to protest. He was already moving the blanket from her shoulder, turning it aside and reaching for her hand. His fingers closed around her bandaged flesh with surprising gentleness. Frowning, he bent his head and began to unwind the gauze.

“Easy,” he said softly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to see how the wound looks this morning.”

His voice droned on, soft and reassuring and yet firm as he knelt before her. Angelica looked down at the top of his head. His hair was uncombed, the thick, silky locks a dozen different shades of gold as the morning sun kissed it.

She felt her throat constrict. Wouldn’t it be nice if she could press a kiss there, too? She could touch her nose to his hair, her lips to his neck…

His fingers moved lightly against her skin, grazing her wrist and the palm of her hand, and she made a little sound, something halfway between clearing her throat and catching her breath.

Cade looked up.

“Did I hurt you?”

Angelica shook her head. “No. No, not at all.”

“I’m trying to be gentle. I just want to be sure you’re not going to get an infection in the area of the sting.”

“You are. Being gentle, I mean. And—and…” She pulled her hand free of his. “Really, Cade, I’m fine.”

Oh, yes, he thought, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her, yes, she was fine. She was—hell, she was gorgeous, sitting there like that with her hair blazing around her face, with that dumb blanket folded back so it made a frame for her creamy shoulders. One of the camisole straps had slipped down her arm; before he could think, he reached out and put his fingers under it, lifted it carefully and drew it back onto her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He smiled. “A real thank you,” he said. “Who’d have believed it?”

Their eyes met. She hesitated, and then she smiled at him.

“I—I guess I haven’t been very easy to deal with.”

“No.” His smile broadened. “No, you haven’t.”

She nodded. “The—the scorpion sting… It, ah, it scared me silly.”

It was an incredible admission, coming from this woman. Cade knew it, and forced himself to react as casually as if she’d simply commented on the weather.

“Well, that’s understandable. I’ve seen men twice your size spot one of those little monsters inside a boot and keel over in a dead faint.”

Angelica laughed. God, it was a glorious sight, he thought, watching those green eyes light, seeing those soft rosebud lips part to show perfect white teeth.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

Cade put on his most innocent look, crossed his heart and held up his hand.

“Cross my heart and hope to die, join the ghosts up in the sky, it’s the truth and not a lie—what are you laughing at?”

“Join the ghosts up in the sky?” Angelica giggled. “What kind of silly stuff is that?”

He grinned. “It’s obvious you never ran across any members of the Deadeye Defenders.”

“The what?”

“There were three of us. Zach was ten, Grant was twelve and I was eight.”

“The Deadeyes didn’t believe in age discrimination, I see.”

Cade chuckled. “We couldn’t. We’re brothers, and that oath you just laughed at was sacred.”

“No girls permitted in the Deadeye Defenders, of course.”

“Oh, we let one girl join. Kyra. She was—I guess you’d say she was our mascot.”

Angelica’s brows arched. “Of course. What else would a girl be good for?”

“Pull back those claws, su

gar.” Cade grinned. “Kyra was our baby sister. She was toddling around in diapers when the Deadeyes began—she was lucky we tolerated her at all!”

“Ah. Well, in that case—”

“Don’t tell me I’m going to get another apology?” Cade clamped his hand to his heart. “The shock might kill me.”

She laughed softly. “Relax, Mr. Landon. I was only going to say I hoped that by the time she was older, you’d decided that sex discrimination was as pointless as age discrimination.”

Cade’s smile faded a little. “By the time she was older, my brothers and I were too busy for childish stuff like the Deadeyes. That was what my old man said, anyway.”

“But your mother—didn’t she…” Angelica caught her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’m sorry, Cade. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No, that’s OK. Our mother died when we were just kids. Our old man—my father—had his own ideas about how to raise us.” Their eyes met. He cleared his throat, then reached for her hand again. “OK,” he said briskly, “let’s just see how this looks.”

Angelica swallowed as she looked at his bent head. She could bury the fingers of her left hand in his hair, curl them around the nape of his neck and urge his face up until his eyes met hers, until his mouth was a breath from her own…

She yanked her hand from his. Cade looked up, startled.

“If that hurts—”

“It doesn’t hurt,” she said sharply. “I just—look, I hate to be fussed over. If—if my hand is all right, just say so.”

“It’s going to be fine. We’ll leave it unbandaged. Of course, you can’t do much with it for the next few days, but—”