Читать книгу The Last Honorable Man - Vickie Taylor - Страница 11

“¿Estas loco? I cannot marry you!”

Elisa jerked her hand from the ranger’s. The soft scrape of his callused palm on her fingertips shot a tingle of awareness up her arm. Or maybe that was just shock. A physical reaction to an emotional jolt.

Marry him? He could not be serious.

But one look at his pewter eyes, glowing in the dim light, convinced her that he was serious. Deadly so. He did not just stare at her. He focused his entire being on her. He looked at her as though the rest of the world had faded away, as if nothing else existed except him and her and the moonlight and the ridiculously expensive car in which they sat.

The supple leather seat groaned as she scrambled away. Pulling her feet onto the seat, she jammed her back into the corner between the passenger seat and door and drew her knees to her chest. Even at this distance, the ranger was too close, too sincere and much too intense.

“It wouldn’t be a real marriage,” he explained as calmly as if he were showing her how to use a blender. “I mean…it would have to be legal. But it would just be a piece of paper between us. It wouldn’t mean anything. Not really.”

She knew he was talking about…intimate relations, and decided not to respond to that implication. Sex with the ranger was the last of her worries. Too outrageous to ponder. “It would mean a great deal. It would mean I would be bound to you. Dependent on you.”