Best Kept Secrets(33)



delight. She also gave a start of surprise and bumped

against Reede. "So active."

"She's breeding me a winner."

"She belongs to you?"

"Yes."

"What about the sire?"

"I paid dearly for his services, but he was worth it. Good-looking

stallion from Florida. Fancy Pants took to him right

away. I think she was sorry when it was over. Maybe if he

was around all the time, I wouldn't have to worry about her

getting out of line."

The pressure in Alex's chest was such that she could barely

breathe. Her inclination was to rest her cheek against the

mare's side and continue to listen to Reede's lulling voice.

Thankfully, her reason reasserted itself before she did anything

so foolish.

She pulled her hand from beneath his and turned. He was

standing so close to her that her clothes brushed against his,

and she had to tilt her head back until it was resting against

the horse in order to look into his face.



"Do all owners have access to the stables?"

Reede stepped back and allowed her to move toward the

opening.

"Since I used to work for the Mintons, I guess they feel

they can trust me."

"What kind of horse is she?" Alex said, reverting to her

original question.

"A Quarter Horse."

"A quarter of what?"

" 'A quarter of what?' " He tossed back his head and

laughed. Fancy Pants danced aside. "Jesus, that's good. A

quarter of what?" He unfastened the chain that had secured

the mare to a metal ring in the wall, and then joined Alex

outside the stall, carefully closing the gate behind him. "You

don't know much about horses, do you?"

"Obviously not," she replied tightly.

Her embarrassment seemed to amuse him for only a moment.

Then, frowning, he asked, "Was coming out here your

idea?"

"Junior invited me."

"Ah, that figures."

"Why should it figure?"

"He's always hot on the trail of the newest available

broad."

Blood surged through Alex's veins. "I am not available

to Junior, or to anybody else. Neither am I a broad."

He subjected her to a slow and ridiculing once-over. "No,

I guess you're not. Too much lawyer and not enough woman.

Don't you ever relax?"

"Not when I'm working on a case."

"And that's what you were doing over drinks?" he asked

scornfully. "Working on your case?"

"That's right."

"They've sure got funny methods of investigation in the

Travis County D.A.'s office." He turned his back on her and

swaggered toward the opposite end of the building.

"Wait! I'd like to ask you a few questions."



"Subpoena me," he tossed over his shoulder.

"Reede!" Impulsively, she struck out after him and

grabbed the sleeve of his leather jacket. He stopped, glanced

down where her fingers were curled into the age-softened

leather, then came around slowly and stared at her with eyes

as green and sharp as jungle spears.

She let go of his sleeve and fell back a step. She wasn't

frightened; rather, she was shocked at herself. She hadn't intended

to call his name like that, and she certainly hadn't

intended to touch him, especially after what had happened in

the stall.

Wetting her lips nervously, she said, "I want to talk to

you. Please. Off the record. To satisfy my own curiosity."

"I know the technique, Counselor. I've used it myself.

You play chummy with the suspect, hoping that he'll drop

his guard and tell you something he's trying to hide."

"It's not like that. I just want to talk."

"About what?"

"About the Mintons."

"What about them?"

Standing with his feet widespread, pelvis tipped slightly

forward, he slid his hands into the back pockets of his jeans,

which pulled his jacket open across his chest. The stance was

intimidatingly manly. It aroused her as much as it annoyed

her. Alex tried to suppress both responses. "Would you say

that Angus and Sarah Jo have a happy marriage?"

He blinked and coughed. "What?"

"Don't look at me like that. I'm asking for your opinion,

not an analysis."

"What the hell difference does it make?"

"Sarah Jo's not the kind of woman I would have expected

Angus to marry."

"Opposites attract."

"That's too pat. Are they . . . close?"

"Close?"

"Close, as in intimate."

"I've never thought about it."



"Of course you have. You lived here."

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