The Barons Of Texas: Kit

“I’ll leave. For now.”

Three

Des.

Kit groaned softly. For the last ten minutes she had been rereading a paragraph in a romantic suspense book she had started earlier in the week, and she still didn’t have a clue what it was about.

She thrust it aside. It was useless to try to concentrate on anything tonight. Des was the only thing on her mind, and she couldn’t get him off.

All her instincts were shouting at her that earlier this morning, with very little effort, her encounter with Des could have turned from anger to passion. And if it had…

The potential for instant passion between them had always been the thing that, deep down, she had feared. Yet for some odd reason, the charged sexual tension between them had taken her totally by surprise.

It had seemed to take Des by surprise, too, though she couldn’t really be sure. She couldn’t begin to guess. His father had understood him, but since Uncle William’s death, she doubted anyone did. He was a brilliant enigma.

She pushed herself up from the couch and walked to a window. Outside, sleet had begun to fall, but inside her home, it was warm and cozy, just as she liked. But tonight, even the surroundings she had worked so hard to achieve couldn’t soothe her.

So much had happened today that was awful and bewildering. Someone had killed Cody, and the sheriff was looking closely at her as the person who had done it. If it wasn’t such a bizarre tragedy, she might have laughed. Even funnier, stranger, was the fact that Des, whom she had avoided for years, had declared himself her lawyer, her defender.

She could cope with the sheriff, but Des was a different matter. She could well understand why for years women had made fools of themselves over him. At seventeen, she would have made a complete fool out of herself if he hadn’t stopped their kiss. She groaned at her thoughts.

She had wrapped up business earlier this evening and treated herself to a long soak in a bath. Then she had slipped on a pair of big socks, a pair of silk pajamas and her cashmere robe. It would have been a perfect night to relax, perhaps even finish the novel she was reading, except she couldn’t get her mind off the murder. And Des.

Des.

If he had kissed her this morning, she would have responded. She knew it in her bones. She wouldn’t have been able to control herself. Worse, her response would have been so easy, so automatic, so natural. And what if it had gone even farther?

If nothing else, her musings on what, in reality, was nothing more than a kiss that hadn’t happened told her she had been absolutely right to avoid Des for all these years.

The doorbell chimed, startling her and breaking into her thoughts. For a moment she simply gazed toward the sound. No matter who it was, she was in no mood to see anyone. She would love to simply ignore whoever was there, along with whatever problem they were bringing with them. Unfortunately, it wasn’t in her to shirk any kind of responsibility.

Reluctantly, she went to answer it and found Des standing under the light on her porch. Her heart leapt, and her hand flew to the neck of her robe, pulling it tight in a protective gesture.