Heartbreak Ranch by Kylie Brant

trap neatly. “It’s settled then. You’ll come along. I know this is still Montana, after all, not Florida high society. But you should find it entertaining enough. You’ve always liked a party.”
    A flicker of something suspiciously close to panic showed in her eyes, and she shook her head. “As much as I enjoy getting dressed up and showing off, I’m going to say no thanks. I just got here, and I’m not ready to leave the ranch just yet.”
    All his protective instincts rose to the surface, and he was suddenly, illogically angry. Angry at a turn of events that had the power to sap Julianne of that bold self-assurance that was so much a part of her. Angry at her for letting it happen, and angry at himself for not being able to prevent it. He made sure none of the furious emotion sounded in his voice. “You wouldn’t be gone long. I’ll fly us to Helena after lunch tomorrow, and we’ll return the next day.”
    Her tone was lazy. “I don’t think so. Maybe another time.”
    His eyes narrowed consideringly. Damn, she was good. Her yawn and sleepy smile almost convinced him that all she wanted to do was spend the next month loafing and poking around the ranch. He stared at her, long enough to cause her to shift in her chair, before she rose, announcing her intentions of heading to bed.
    The old Julianne would have accepted in a minute. He wasn’t being totally sarcastic when he’d said this event would be just the sort of thing she used to like. There was nothing Julianne had enjoyed more than getting all dolled up and making an entrance at a party. And, if memory served correctly, being its focal point while she was there.
    His gaze bored a hole in her retreating back.
    She was nearing the door. Her hand reached for the knob. He let her open it, move through it, before saying coolly, “Well, this is one for the books. Julianne Buchanan…running scared.”
    He could have predicted her reaction time to the second. One instant…two…before she backed through the door again to look at him challengingly.
    â€œPardon me?”
    He let a sardonic grin curl his mouth. The haughty tone was familiar—princess to peasant. It had never failed to get a rise out of him when they were kids. But they weren’t kids anymore.
    â€œI said you’re running scared.” He shrugged. “You’ve got a right, God knows. No one would blame you for not wanting to face a ballroom full of people, all the time wondering how much of the Florida scandal had reached here, what they know, what they think they do. If you want to hide out at the ranch awhile longer and lick your wounds in private, hell, you’re entitled.”
    The look she aimed at him should have singed off a layer of skin, but then she sauntered toward him, slow and nonchalant. He pushed away from the desk, his weight coming to rest on the balls of his feet. Deliberately baiting Julianne could be an unpredictable business, and it was best to be prepared.
    She stopped in front of him, a dangerous little smile on her face. Brushing a piece of lint from the shoulder of his denim shirt, she patted his cheek, a little more forcefully than necessary. “Jed. Dear. If this is a pathetic attempt at reverse psychology, you’d better leave it to the pros. You need more practice. The day that I’m afraid to face people is the day they eat lemon Popsicles in hell.”
    He caught her wrist in his hand and moved it away,smiling mockingly. “Sure. Whatever you need to believe, Jules.”
    Their gazes clashed for a long moment, her eyes expressing every emotion she was feeling…irritation, disdain, uncertainty. It was the last of those emotions that drew his chest tight, that made him sure he was right.
    Then she was tugging her hand free, as cool as you please, and tucking it into her back pocket. She rolled one shoulder in magnificent indifference. “Since it