just been scared half out of her mind. That wasn't fear for her in Tyler's eyes now. It was just plain male frustration.
"It's time for another little talk, Miss Peyton."
"I should have thought a little faster action would have been called for over talk, but you're the expert," she answered sweetly.
She was quite certain if she had been a man, he would have socked her one. To his credit, Tyler only pounded the wall.
"I'm not going one inch farther with you until you learn a few ground rules, Miss Peyton, a few things your 'mother' should have told you. Or your nanny. Or whoever was responsible for bringing up an undisciplined brat like you."
He was still too close for comfort. Evie could see the shining pearl buttons on his shirt. His hips were pressed uncomfortably close to hers. The crinoline that went with her new dresses only had a hoop in the rear. That made it much too easy for a man to get close to her front. And it was impossible to press backward against the wall any more.
"I'm certain it was my fault that whelp of an unmarried mother tried to abduct me," she asserted coldly. "Won't you please tell me where I went wrong?"
Whelp of an unmarried mother. Tyler had an irresistible urge to smile, but as soon as he did, she would be on top again. He couldn't keep letting her get away with it.
He wasn't at all certain what "it" was, but Maryellen Peyton had plenty of it.
"You're damned right I'm going to tell you," he said forcefully.
"Your language, sir," she admonished with a sweet smile.
"Bitch, bastard, hell, and damn!" he shouted in frustration at his inability to get through to her. "They're words, Evie, not weapons. They won't kill anyone. Now shut up and let me finish."
She regarded him with those sloe eyes, and Tyler felt himself going under. Shoving away from the wall, he paced the room, carefully keeping his gaze away.
"Men outnumber women three to one in Texas, and they're not the type to politely carry you off when they take a fancy to your pretty ass." He heard her gasp but ignored it. "They're tough, undisciplined men, and they carry guns. They'll respect a lady, but damn it, Evie, they're men. You go flaunting that swinging rear end of yours and winking those big dark eyes, and they'll do what men naturally do. And you're not going to like it one bit."
He swung around to see how she was taking this. She looked pale enough to faint. Pushing her down in the chair, Tyler poured a glass of his bourbon, mixed it with some water, and shoved it in her hand. "Drink it slow."
Evie sipped and grimaced, then handed it back. "Poisoning me won't help."
Tyler threw back the contents and immediately felt better. "Knocking you out until we get there would make me feel better," he replied as he set aside the glass.
"I didn't do anything. I was just standing there. Why are you blaming me?"
"Damn it, Evie, you know perfectly well what you do to men when you pout those little lips of yours. I've watched you do it on purpose. Your flirting will get you in even bigger trouble one of these days. You have to promise me you'll stop it, or I refuse to take responsibility for you any longer."
She pouted. Her little chin trembled. Lashes fluttered over her big blue-black eyes and he could swear he saw a tear trickle down her cheek. But Tyler knew damned well she hid laughter behind those lashes.
With a swift jerk, he pulled her out of the chair and threw her down on the bed. Obviously the devil had created this hell just to make him burn right here on earth. He fell on top of her and began to scatter kisses across her cheeks.
"I'm going to do this every time you play that game," he warned.
Evie struggled against Tyler's greater weight. Since she had never been in close contact with a man, she had never thought of them in terms of their greater weight or strength before. She didn't like the feeling of vulnerability created by his heavy weight pinning her from the waist down. She was used to men dancing to her tune,
"It's time for another little talk, Miss Peyton."
"I should have thought a little faster action would have been called for over talk, but you're the expert," she answered sweetly.
She was quite certain if she had been a man, he would have socked her one. To his credit, Tyler only pounded the wall.
"I'm not going one inch farther with you until you learn a few ground rules, Miss Peyton, a few things your 'mother' should have told you. Or your nanny. Or whoever was responsible for bringing up an undisciplined brat like you."
He was still too close for comfort. Evie could see the shining pearl buttons on his shirt. His hips were pressed uncomfortably close to hers. The crinoline that went with her new dresses only had a hoop in the rear. That made it much too easy for a man to get close to her front. And it was impossible to press backward against the wall any more.
"I'm certain it was my fault that whelp of an unmarried mother tried to abduct me," she asserted coldly. "Won't you please tell me where I went wrong?"
Whelp of an unmarried mother. Tyler had an irresistible urge to smile, but as soon as he did, she would be on top again. He couldn't keep letting her get away with it.
He wasn't at all certain what "it" was, but Maryellen Peyton had plenty of it.
"You're damned right I'm going to tell you," he said forcefully.
"Your language, sir," she admonished with a sweet smile.
"Bitch, bastard, hell, and damn!" he shouted in frustration at his inability to get through to her. "They're words, Evie, not weapons. They won't kill anyone. Now shut up and let me finish."
She regarded him with those sloe eyes, and Tyler felt himself going under. Shoving away from the wall, he paced the room, carefully keeping his gaze away.
"Men outnumber women three to one in Texas, and they're not the type to politely carry you off when they take a fancy to your pretty ass." He heard her gasp but ignored it. "They're tough, undisciplined men, and they carry guns. They'll respect a lady, but damn it, Evie, they're men. You go flaunting that swinging rear end of yours and winking those big dark eyes, and they'll do what men naturally do. And you're not going to like it one bit."
He swung around to see how she was taking this. She looked pale enough to faint. Pushing her down in the chair, Tyler poured a glass of his bourbon, mixed it with some water, and shoved it in her hand. "Drink it slow."
Evie sipped and grimaced, then handed it back. "Poisoning me won't help."
Tyler threw back the contents and immediately felt better. "Knocking you out until we get there would make me feel better," he replied as he set aside the glass.
"I didn't do anything. I was just standing there. Why are you blaming me?"
"Damn it, Evie, you know perfectly well what you do to men when you pout those little lips of yours. I've watched you do it on purpose. Your flirting will get you in even bigger trouble one of these days. You have to promise me you'll stop it, or I refuse to take responsibility for you any longer."
She pouted. Her little chin trembled. Lashes fluttered over her big blue-black eyes and he could swear he saw a tear trickle down her cheek. But Tyler knew damned well she hid laughter behind those lashes.
With a swift jerk, he pulled her out of the chair and threw her down on the bed. Obviously the devil had created this hell just to make him burn right here on earth. He fell on top of her and began to scatter kisses across her cheeks.
"I'm going to do this every time you play that game," he warned.
Evie struggled against Tyler's greater weight. Since she had never been in close contact with a man, she had never thought of them in terms of their greater weight or strength before. She didn't like the feeling of vulnerability created by his heavy weight pinning her from the waist down. She was used to men dancing to her tune,
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