The Perfect Proposal Page 10

  Mitch sighed guiltily. “I think you know the answer to that.”

  Annie expelled a weary breath and sagged into a chair. “I guess I do. So what did you do?” she asked. “Sneak into my room and cut off my alarm clock?”

  The flat tone of her voice combined with the underhanded picture her words created made Mitch feel like heel. Then he got mad. As if she hadn’t done anything to him, he thought, giving in to a wave of righteous indignation. What about that “I’ve got an idea” crap she’d pulled to torment him? Granted, it wasn’t s crafty has his trickery, but she’d still been a little devious. Suddenly, Mitch was very angry. Not just at Annie, but at his uncle, at Les, at the whole damned situation.

  “Well, you’re hardly innocent,” Mitch remarked heatedly.

  Annie shot him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Irritate Mitch,” he said mockingly, quoting the words he’d found in her notebook, anger fuelling more indignation. “Talk about childish, Annie.” He snorted, warming to his topic. “At least my tactics are adult.”

  Annie gasped and sat up from her chair. “You went through my purse!” she accused, her eyes widening with outrage. And something else, some other emotion Mitch couldn’t readily identify and didn’t want to. He was on a roll.

  “Well, what did you expect after your little performance? That I wouldn’t be curious?”

  “I didn’t expect you to investigate my personal things! My things!” Annie yelled unreasonably. “Oh, that’s low. That’s lower than sneaking into my room like some sort of pervert and sabotaging my alarm clock.”

  Mitch’s nostrils flared. This was the second time she’d accused him of being some sort of sexual deviant, Mitch thought furiously. Why if she weren’t a girl, he’d—

  “How would you like it if I took the liberty of going through your wallet?” she asked hotly. Suddenly her eyes glittered with something much more dangerous than anger. Unease settled in Mitch’s gut. “Tell ya what. Let’s just find out.” With that, and with an animal-like wail, Annie lunged from the chair and tackled him around the waist.

  Caught totally off guard, the breath whooshed from Mitch’s lungs as Annie’s shoulder connected solidly with his solar plexus. Knocked off-balance at the surprise attack, he toppled sideways, hit the coffee table and plunged to the floor. Like a barnacle and with surprising strength, his small assailant clung to him as though her life depended on it.

  Annoyed, Mitch half-heartedly attempted to wrestle her off him. After all, it wasn’t as though she could actually hurt him. “What…are…you doing?” he asked, trying to wrench her hand from his back pocket.

  “Getting…your…wallet,” she bit out between spurts of furious exertion. “Let’s see how you like it.”

  “Ow!” Mitch yelped, astonished. “You pinched me!”

  “And I’m gonna pull your hair, too, you no-good thieving jerk!”

  And she did. Mitch’s head snapped backward as Annie’s fingers curled into his hair and yanked hard. “Nobody goes through my things!” she shouted.

  Supremely aggravated, Mitch was just about to call and end to this little wrestling match, when a note of irrational desperation he’d heard in Annie’s last statement surfaced in his spinning thoughts. He frowned. What was going on here?

  “You got it?” she demanded, her hand once again diving for his wallet.

  “Annie, calm down,” Mitch told her, attempting once again to capture her wayward hands.

  She didn’t. She struggled, her sweet breath hot against his neck as she made another concerted effort to pry his wallet from his slacks. Then, against his mindful protests, Mitch became uncomfortably aware of her other body parts.

  Particularly her breasts.

  They rubbed enticingly against his chest, making him react in a way that considerably lessened the room in his slacks. Her legs wound around his and Mitch longed to anchor them at his hips and roll her over…

  Just like that, his groin shot to attention.

  “Annie,” he tried again. Sweat beaded on his upper lip.

  “What?” she asked, seemingly exasperated, still wriggling against him.

  Clenching his teeth, Mitch willed his wayward libido to calm. “You have got to stop that.”

  “Oh, yeah?” she retorted belligerently. “Make me.”

  Okay. That was it. Effortlessly, Mitch flipped her over, manacled her wrists and pinned them above her head. His throbbing arousal settled between her thighs s though that intimate cradle had been designed expressly for him. Annie’s chest heaved, then all but stalled her heavy-lidded gaze met his. So he finally had her attention. It was about time. Another minute and he might have exploded. Still might, for that matter.

  It took every ounce of willpower he could muster to speak calmly. “I apologize for sneaking out with Les and for going through your purse. It was wrong. If you would like to go through the contents of my wallet, I’d be happy to give it to you.” He grinned then. “In case you haven’t noticed, your Amazon tactics aren’t frightening me. But they are having another …effect. Do you understand?”

  With helpless fascination, Mitch watched the play of emotions in Annie’s deliciously flushed face. He saw anger, indignation, resignation, and finally, desire. A hot flame licked at his insides and continued a slow burn. God, how he wanted this woman.

  At last, Annie nodded.

  He loosened his hold. “I’m going to let you up now.”

  He expected a flippant remark, but all she did was nod her head. Reluctantly, Mitch eased himself from Annie’s softness. Undoubtedly, it had to be one of the hardest things he’d ever done. As soon as Mitch was out of her way, Annie hauled herself to her feet and stood with her arms crossed protectively over her heaving chest. He noticed her hands were shaking.

  Mitch pulled his wallet from his pocket and offered it to her. She looked at it, but didn’t take it.

  His eyes searched hers questioningly. “What just happened here, Annie?” he asked softly. “What was that all about?”

  Annie shrugged, then took a halting step toward the bedroom. “You wouldn’t understand if I told you,” she said woodenly. “I’m sorry, Mitch. I don’t know what came over me. I-I haven’t acted that way since…” she trailed off. “I just need some time to myself.” She turned then to start out of the room.

  Mitch had the almost overwhelming urge to wrap Annie in his arms and comfort her. She looked so uncharacteristically fragile at that moment, he almost did. Then, just as quickly, the fragile woman disappeared and the regular self-assured Annie took her place. Mitch silently wondered how many other times Annie’d had to pull herself together like that. How many times had she had to? And how many times could she do it without falling apart?

  “Annie?”

  Her spine rigid, she stopped, but didn’t turn around. Those wild curled tumbled down her back, covering her slender shoulders that seemingly carried the weight of the world. “Yes?”

  “Why is this so important to you?” he murmured. “Why is Hightower Advertising so important to you?”

  She offered him a small sad smile over her shoulder. Her eyes were unusually bright. Mitch felt as though he’d been pole-axed. “Again, Mitch, you wouldn’t understand.” With that, she turned and walked to her room.

  “You’re right, Annie,” he whispered to himself long after she’d left the room. “I don’t understand. But I want to.”

  Chapter Ten

  Humiliation burning her cheeks, Annie calmly walked to her room, then promptly fell apart. She’d attacked him. Physically attacked him. What on earth had come over her? Hands trembling, she shoved handful of her hair behind her ear and sagged into the wingback chair in her room. A heavy, despair-ridden sigh escaped her, and she resolutely squashed the overwhelming urge to cry. After all, crying wouldn’t do her any good. It never had.

  Annie had learned early on in her life that crying either gave away a weakness, brought about a beating, or resulted in some other unproductive or painful
consequence.

  So why did she feel the traitorous tears slipping down her cheeks? The answer both frightened and humbled her.

  Because Mitch had cared. For one unguarded moment, she’d allowed herself to look into his eyes and see it. The expression on his face, the tone of his voice, left her no doubt. A calm so utterly splendid had filled her and made her wish he’d crossed the few feet between them and taken her into his arms. Which was ridiculous, Annie thought. She didn’t even like him. Or she hadn’t until now. She had to like him now because he actually gave a damn.

  Funny thing about tears, she marveled, dabbing at the unwanted wetness staining her cheeks—they were easy to control when no one cared, but virtually impossible to contain when one did.

  She still couldn’t believe she’d attacked him. Annie giggled, remembering. His eyes had rounded in disbelief when she’d jumped at him. Hell, how could he have known that she’d take so much offense to someone going through her things? He hadn’t a clue about her miserable past. Her life in the foster care system, where clinging to a few personal possessions as her only ties to the past had become essential to her emotional survival. He couldn’t even begin to imagine. What he’d done was deplorable, but definitely not a mortal sin and hadn’t deserved the wrestling match she’d treated him to.

  Oh, Lord, she thought again. How would she ever face him? Well, Annie thought, mentally ticking off the other embarrassing catastrophes Mitch had witnessed. Facing him now shouldn’t even be an issue.

  Oddly, though, it was. She frowned thoughtfully. Before, Annie had been aware of the attraction between them. But she hadn’t felt the evidence of that attraction pressed intimately against her. Hadn’t had to bite her tongue to keep from arching against him, seeking his weight to assuage a desire so great it almost overwhelmed her with its intensity. Her own need had struck her hard, sending frissons of tingly sensation through and through her being. Even now, she felt the delicious stirrings that Mitch’s touch evoked.

  Amazing that they could be enemies and still feel that all-consuming elemental pull. Perhaps that was the attraction, Annie rationalized. Forbidden fruit and all that. Didn’t she always want what she wasn’t supposed to have?

  Annie took that excuse for her unusual affinity for Mitch and ran with it. Lust was a simple, emotionally uncomplicated explanation for what she felt for her handsome adversary.

  Another equally disturbing explanation lurked in her subconscious, but Annie squelched it determinedly. There wasn’t a future for them and the thought didn’t bear exploring. Furthermore, the possibility of pain accompanied that observation and she’d had enough of that to last her a lifetime. Wasn’t that why she was there—to avoid more pain? No, regrettably, attraction aside, Mitch was still the competition.

  Besides, she had other pressing matters which had to be attended to. Like landing the Winning Wiener campaign. She bit her lip. Which meant she had to think of a campaign idea first. Annie almost laughed at the absurdity of all of it. She’d been so busy jumping through hoops for Les and trying to manage her unreasonable attraction for Mitch that she hadn’t been able to coming up with one great idea. And that’s all she needed. That and time.

  Unfortunately, time was in short supply. Still, Annie could do it. She would have to. Her career depended on it. The very thought of losing Hightower, her position, Will—all that she held dear—terrified her. Unbidden, an image of Mitch flashed through her mind and a thought occurred to her. Before long, she’d be losing him as well.

  Funny how that thought saddened her when she should have been relieved.

  “Are you sure the weather’s gonna hold?” Mitch asked Hank, the stable hand who’d helped them tack and mount this morning. Mitch looked at the rapidly darkening sky. He wasn’t worried about it for his own sake. Mitch had logged enough hours in the saddle to handle a skittish mount. His gaze swung to his riding partner. Annie, on the other hand, looked as though she’d never been on a horse before in her life.

  A frown puckering her brown and a look of fierce determination on her face, she held the reins in a white-knuckled grip that let him know she’d ride the horse or die trying. At her initial hesitation this morning when they’d fist arrived, Mitch had offered to let Annie ride with him. She’d flatly refused. She’d also refused coffee, breakfast and anything else he’d offered her. They were back to where they started. For some reason Mitch didn’t care to explore, that saddened him beyond reason.

  “Aw, yeah, it’ll hold,” Hank said. “If not —” He handed Mitch a rough map and pointed to a small square near the middle of it. “—then go here. This is one of the supply cabins. The fencing crew uses it, so it’ll have everything you need in the event of an emergency.”

  Mitch nodded, but he still didn’t like it.

  “Ready to go, Annie?” Mitch asked.

  She managed a bright, patently false grin. “Sure.”

  Mitch nudged his gray gelding in the flank and trotted up beside Annie. Her mount sidestepped and she let loose a little squeal that made Mitch smile. Grinning, he reached over and pried the reins from her clenched fists. “Why don’t you let me lead for a little while until you get used to how she moves.”

  Annie glanced up, ready to argue as always. It was the first time she’d actually looked at him in the eye since last night. He felt a pang of sympathy for her. Couldn’t she let anyone do something for her without trying to find an ulterior motive?

  “I think that would be best,” she said at last, surprising him.

  Pleased, Mitch grinned at her. He clicked his tongue a couple of times, signaling the animals to move.

  “And they’re off,” Annie muttered under her breath, sounding less than enthused.

  “Just let yourself roll with her,” Mitch advised without looking back. “Relax. We’re horseback riding, not heading to the gallows.”

  Mitch maneuvered them through the gate and took the trail Hank had indicated. Annie seemed reluctant to talk and Mitch was content to let his thoughts drift and gaze at the landscape.

  Les’s property was indeed beautiful, encompassing thousands of acres of pasture land, woods and ravines. Surely his ranch hands must have to camp for days at a time just to count cattle, Mitch mused, feeling humbled by the awesome sight before him. He took in a deep breath and exhaled a contented sigh.

  “How do you know I’m not relaxed?” Annie asked a few minutes later, a frown in her voice. Still, she seemed more intrigued than irritated.

  “Because your horse is walking a little stiffly. She senses that you’re uncomfortable.”

  “Oh,” Annie remarked.

  “As you start to relax, she will.” He turned and grinned at her unhappy expression. “Then you might actually enjoy yourself.”

  Annie snorted at that. “This beast outweighs me about a thousand pounds. It’s not likely that I’ll relax any time soon.”

  Mitch chuckled at that.

  “Besides,” she said wryly, “as soon as I do, Les’ll come up with another harebrained reason for me to be tense. I won’t relax until this sill contest is over and we’re back in Atlanta.”

  “Isn’t that the truth?” Mitch said eagerly, glad that Annie’s volatile temper seemed to be directed as someone besides himself for once. “I mean, look at us. Here we are out riding the range instead of working on our campaigns. It’s almost as if Les doesn’t want us to work on it.” There. He’d finally announced the suspicions he’d had all along.

  Annie turned to look at him, her gorgeous mouth perfect kissable O. “You’re right,” she breathed. “You’re absolutely right, Mitch.”

  Well, those were words he never expected to hear from her lips.

  She gave him an odd look. “I can’t believe it, but I swear I think you’re right. Why else would Les have us out here? Make us come to his reunion? Tell us we can’t work on Sunday, then set an almost impossible deadline for a presentation? He hasn’t even given us any input on what he has in mind.” Annie’s forehead wrinkled in confusion
. “It just doesn’t make sense. What reason could he possibly have?”

  Mitch forced a chuckle. “I would give you my opinion, but I don’t think you want to hear it.” He looked up at the sky as thunder rumbled ominously.

  “Try me,” Annie said.

  Mitch looked again at the grayish-black sky, and the storm rolling in. “Annie —” he began. Suddenly a bolt of lightning rent the heavens and the first fat drop of rain fell.

  Annie’s horse whinnied and side stepped, spooked by the sudden storm.

  “Mitch…” Annie’s eyes rounded in fear. “I think she’s is getting upset. There, there,” she crooned, awkwardly patting the frightened mare.

  “Damn,” Mitch cursed under his breath, holding the reins tightly. He studied the sky once more, looked back toward the house and knew they couldn’t make it back before the heavens opened up. Mitch consulted the map and realized they were closer to the supply cabin. Another lightning bolt split the sky, causing Annie’s nervous mount to wheel again. Annie jerked sideways and almost slid off her horse. And for once in his life, Mitch felt genuinely afraid.

  “Mitch!” Annie squawked, struggling to hold on. “Help me!”

  Reacting quickly, Mitch hauled the nervous mare around and quieted her. That done, his pulse stampeding through his veins, he jumped from his own mount and helped a trembling and terrified Annie to the ground. She threw her arms around his neck and held on for dear life.

  As much as Mitch would have enjoyed holding her like that forever, the increasing rain prevented him from doing so. The temperature had dropped considerably. Annie would likely catch pneumonia if they didn’t hurry up and find that cabin.

  With supreme effort, Mitch made himself move away from Annie’s tender softness. “We have to get to the supply cabin Hank mentioned.”