Untamed by Nora Roberts

you enough money already without hurting people to get more? Greed isn’t something you inherited from Frank.”
    â€œI’ll only be pushed so far,” Keane warned.
    â€œI’d push you all the way back to Chicago if I could manage it,” she snapped.
    â€œI wondered how much of a temper there was behind those sharp green eyes,” Keane commented, watching her passion pour color into her cheeks. “It appears it’s a full-grown one.” Jo started to retort, but Keane cut her off. “Just hold on a minute,” he ordered. “With or without your approval, I own this circus. It might be easier for you if you adjusted to that. Be quiet,” he added when her mouth opened again. “Legally, I can do with my—” he hesitated a moment, then continued in a mordant tone “—inheritance as I choose. I have no obligation or intention of justifying my decision to you.”
    Jo dug her nails into her palms to help keep her voice from shaking. “I never knew I could grow to dislike someone so quickly.”
    â€œJovilette.” Keane dipped his hands into his pockets, then rocked back on his heels. “You disliked me before you ever saw me.
    â€œThat’s true,” she replied evenly. “But I’ve learned to dislike you in person in less than twenty-four hours. I have a show to do,” she said, turning back toward the lot. Though he did not follow, she felt his eyes on her until she reached her trailer and closed the door behind her.
    ***
    Thirty minutes later Jamie sprang through the back door of the Big Top. He was breathless after a lengthy routine and hooked one hand through his purple suspenders as he took in gulps of air. He spotted Jo standing beside the white mare. Her eyes were dark and stormy, her shoulders set and rigid. Jamie recognized the signs. Something or someone had put Jo in a temper, and she had barely ten minutes to work her way out of it before her cue.
    He crossed to her and gave a tug on her hair. “Hey.”
    â€œHello, Jamie.” Jo struggled to keep her voice pleasant, but he heard the traces of emotion.
    â€œHello, Jo,” he replied in precisely the same tone.
    â€œCut it out,” she ordered before taking a few steps away. The mare followed docilely. Jo had been trying for some time to put her emotions back into some semblance of order. She was not succeeding.
    â€œWhat happened?” Jamie asked from directly behind her.
    â€œNothing,” Jo snapped, then hated herself for the short nastiness of the word.
    Jamie persisted, knowing her too well to be offended. “Nothing is one of my favorite topics of conversation.” He put his hands on her shoulders, ignoring her quick, bad-tempered jerk. “Let’s talk about it.”
    â€œThere’s nothing to talk about.”
    â€œExactly.” He began massaging the tension in her shoulders with his white gloved hands.
    â€œOh, Jamie.” His good-heartedness was irresistible. Sighing, she allowed herself to be soothed. “You’re an idiot.”
    â€œI’m not here to be flattered.”
    â€œI had an argument with the owner.” Jo let out a long breath and shut her eyes.
    â€œWhat’re you doing having arguments with the owner?”
    â€œHe infuriates me.” Jo whirled around. Her cape whipped and snapped with the movement. “He shouldn’t be here. If he were back in Chicago . . .”
    â€œHold it.” With a slight shake of her shoulders, Jamie halted Jo’s outburst. “You know better than to get yourself worked up like this right before a show. You can’t afford to have your mind on anything but what you’re doing when you’re in that cage.”
    â€œI’ll be all right,” she mumbled.
    â€œJo.” There was censure in his voice mixed with affection and exasperation.
    Reluctantly, Jo brought her gaze up to his. It was impossible to resist the