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Authors: Janelle Taylor

BOOK: Savage Conquest
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Lucas wondered what women saw in a man like
Weber. Sure, he was nice looking, wealthy, and
influential. At thirty-four, Weber was what the
Northerners called a "typical Southern aristocrat."
His features were prominent, strong, and arrogant,
but Lucas knew all that to be a facade.

Miranda's thoughts were similar to Lucas's. There
was something about Web Richardson that unsettled
her. How she wished Amanda would never see him
again.

Miranda admitted that Weber Richardson was
imposing. He was educated and well traveled, and he
could be witty and romantic. It was obvious women
found him immensely attractive, but she wondered if
Amanda had any real affection for Weber. So far,
Miranda had carefully concealed her reservations
about Weber. For now, she would allow Amanda to
make her own decisions about him. But Miranda had
glimpsed flickers in Web's eyes which chilled her
heart. Just thinking of him sent shivers of dread
through her body.

"Cold, love?" Lucas inquired, pulling her from her dark thoughts.

"Let's get some brandy to warm me," she replied,
sending Lucas a look which said it had been her
thoughts and not the weather which had inspired her
tremors. Lucas smiled and nodded.

When Miranda and Lucas left the room, Weber
quickly arose and went to Amanda, pulling her to
her feet. Before Amanda knew what he had in mind,
his arms were holding her tightly and his mouth was
settling over hers. He murmured huskily, "I've been
waiting all day for that. You're driving me wild,
Amanda. Why must you resist me? No man is more
suited to you than me," he whispered confidently.

"Behave yourself, Weber Richardson," she scolded
.playfully. "It's too soon to think of such matters."

"If you won't agree to marry me or become
affianced, at least don't see anyone besides me," he
entreated.

"I've seen no man but you in over three months.
Still, only by comparing you to other men can I judge
if you are truly the right one for me," she jested coyly,
grinning at him.

"But you've dated every man within fifty miles,"
he argued. "I have to be away on business for a few
days. When I return, we need to be alone and talk. I
have something important to ask you."

His tone revealed what he had in mind-sex and
marriage, in any order. Uncertainty washed over her.
Web's kisses were nice, but they didn't stir her desires.
And she didn't know if she was ready for a permanent
relationship. Right now, Amanda didn't want any
complications in her life, including marriage. Maybe Weber was the ideal choice for a husband, or at least a
business partner. Each day he was becoming more
amorous and persistent even though Amanda had
not encouraged him. What would he do, she
wondered, if she refused him?

"Please, Web, not here. Randy and Luke will
return any moment. We'll have dinner and talk when
you come back."

"At my home?" he suggested, eyes glowing with
interest.

"At the Duke House," she refused laughingly,
wondering what was missing between her and
Web-or, perhaps, only in her.

He shrugged. "One day soon I'hope you'll tire of
leading me a merry chase, Amanda. Be mine. I
promise you won't be sorry."

Amanda pulled away as she heard voices nearing
the room. She realized that if she kept refusing to
make any commitment to Web, he would demand
one or leave her and her business. But did she care?
When he discovered she was taking over the firm, his
reaction would tell her a great deal. She decided not
to tell him her news until his return. Since her
parents' deaths, she had acted both spineless and
brainless, but that was going to change. Web could
take it or leave itl

As Miranda was pouring four brandies, another
knock sounded at the door. "This is certainly our day
for company," Amanda declared, her voice unnaturally high with tension. To escape Web's
mocking gaze and to recover her wits and poise, she
went to answer the summons. It was raining hard, and the night air was nippy and brisk.

"Yes?" she asked shakily of the man whose back
was to the open door. Even though he was wearing a
rain slicker, Amanda could tell he was several inches
over six feet and powerfully built. She thought it odd
he was wearing a western hat over his coal black hair.

He spoke in a stirring tone as he turned to face her.
"Would you please tell Joseph Lawrence that Reis
Harrison is here to see him?" he stated politely,
sweeping off his hat and running strong fingers
through his hat-ruffled hair.

In the darkness, neither could make out the
features of the other. As the damp breeze teased at her
clothes and hair, Amanda invited the stranger inside
to deliver her depressing news. There was nothing
menacing in his stance or voice, and there were two
strong men inside the house who could offer their
protection. She closed the door and leaned her
forehead against it, summoning the strength to utter
words which ripped at her heart. She inhaled then
slowly released her breath.

Reis sensed something was terribly wrong. He
waited patiently for the young woman to speak. As
he removed his rain slicker and tossed it over his right
arm, his eyes slipped from her silky head of blond
curls down her slender body, to return to where her
eyes would be once she faced him. When she did, her
words, "Joseph Lawrence is dead," temporarily went
unnoticed as his entranced senses hastily absorbed
every detail about her.

Reis had heard the silly phrases "breath-taking"
and "heart-stopping," but in his thirty-two years no woman had ever made his breath catch or his heart
race. Now, without warning or preparation, he was
assailed by both sensations. The instant her pale blue
eyes fused with his rich blue ones, all wits and words
were lost to him. Like some foolish lad, he gaped at
her.

Once Amanda's gaze met his, she was unaware of
anything except this vital man. Amanda had been
wooed by countless suitors, and she knew instinctively this man was special. What could be more
pleasurable, she imagined, than losing herself in his
arms?

Amanda had not closed the door securely, and a
sudden gust of wind flung it against her back. She
jumped and gasped. Reis's hand shot over her
shoulder to press the door shut, bringing their bodies
into close contact, making each aware of the nearness
of the other. Reis's palm flattened against the door
and his arm rested lightly on her shoulder.

Amanda could feel the warmth of his breath upon
her forehead. Never had she seen such handsome
features. He had startlingly blue, mesmeric eyes,
which flaunted a softness and sparkle that tugged at
her thudding heart. His lips were full and inviting;
his jawline was wide and his chin squared. If a man's
nose could be beautiful, his was. Such strength of
character was stamped upon his tanned face, and
when he smiled, his whole face lit up like a candle in
the darkness. His eyes and mouth had tiny creases
near their corners-the kinds of lines which implied
he was a man who loved life and was pleased with his
role in it.

Without realizing she was inspecting him from
head to foot, she noted his clothes. Surely his
garments were specially tailored for that welldeveloped and well-toned physique. But why was he
wearing western attire? His snug shirt, black leather
vest, dark blue Levi jeans and black knee boots were
not the usual dress for men in this area.

When Amanda realized she was leaning sideways
and examining him from ebony head to black boot,
she blushed in embarrassment, an uncommon
reaction for her. What was wrong with her? To cover
her lapse, she asked, "Who are you, sir?"

Reis straightened, placing his wayward hand on
his hip. "Reis Harrison, Miss ... ," he replied
entreatingly. Reis was bemused by his novel loss of
self-control. Surely she was an angel sent to Earth to
warm his heart and soul. Her hair coloring was a
mixture of lemonade and aged brandy. Her eyes were
as striking as a peaceful summer sky.

"I caught your name, sir. What business do you
have with Joseph Lawrence? As I said, he-he was
killed in a recent accident," she told him hoarsely,
eyes dewy.

Reis could tell she was upset by her words and her
previous behavior. Then again, he was also unnerved
by this vision of beauty. He quickly detected her
spark of courage and pride. Reis Harrison, an exYankee officer presently employed by President
Grant as a special agent, was accustomed to getting
his wishes, one way or another. Right now, Reis
found this female more intriguing than his case ...

Killed? Reis mentally echoed. "May I extend my condolences, Miss..." He tried to obtain her
identity once more.

"Amanda Lawrence, Mister Harrison." She took
his cue.

"Wife or sister or daughter?" he inquired anxiously, praying her answer wouldn't be his first
query.

"Joseph Lawrence was my father, Mister Harrison. I'm the new owner and manager of Lawrence
Shipping. So if your business concerns the firm,
you'll have to deal with me now," she informed him
crisply, anticipating a mocking attitude.

Reis read her emotions accurately and smiled. "I
have no qualms about dealing with a woman, even if
she is extremely beautiful. I do hope you don't use
your distracting charms to take advantage of a client.
Shall we get acquainted and discuss our business
over lunch tomorrow? I just arrived and wanted to
introduce myself. Shall we say noon at the Windsor?"

At his bold flattery, surprise registered on Amanda's face. When she read no trace of guile in him, she
smiled. "If all male customers and clients take my
news as well as you did, Mister Harrison, I shall
consider myself a believer in miracles. Thank you. I
would prefer to discuss these matters tomorrow, as I
have guests tonight."

"At your convenience, Miss Lawrence. It is Miss?"
he pressed.

Amanda laughed softly and parried, "It is Mister,
isn't it?"

"If there's anything better than a breath of fresh
air, it's a charming and witty lady," he teased. He boldly reached for her left hand and held it up to view
the third finger. "Why that finger's naked I'll never
understand, but I am most grateful," he murmured.

Not to be outdone, Amanda audaciously repeated
the action on his hand. "Since many men don't wear
gold bands, is there a Mrs. Harrison?" she brazenly
inquired, refusing to break their locked gaze.

"Not yet. Would you care to apply for that
position?" he asked mirthfully, eyes glittering with
appreciation. His cheery mood was contagious and
his easy smile was infectious.

"Shouldn't we get acquainted first?" Amanda
fenced deftly, warming and tingling all over.

Reis's glowing eyes eased over Amanda, then he
chuckled. "Is there some dark secret about you which
might change my mind? A nasty temper? Some
hideous scar? Perhaps you're a witch?"

The smoldering fire in his gaze ignited her very
soul. Amanda laughed at his comical look. The
conversation was ridiculous, but so much fun. "The
truth is out, sir; alas, a witch."

As Reis trailed a finger over her lips, he murmured,
"What but truth could pass such sweet lips. A
bewitcher indeed." Neither had kissed a total
stranger before, but both were sorely tempted.

"Is there some problem, Amanda?" a frigid voice
asked from down the hallway as Weber noisily
approached them, having missed Reis's words but
not his interest in Amanda.

Amanda quickly stepped aside, as if guilty of some
offense. Weber joined them and Amanda eased her inexplicable tension by introducing the two men.
"Weber Richardson, meet Reis Harrison. Reis and
my father were friends, Web. He came to pay his
respects and to discuss some family business. As I
said, we'll chat tomorrow," she stated to an astute
Reis. "Web is also a friend of the family," she added
nonsensically.

"Haven't we met before, Harrison?" Weber asked
suspiciously. His eyes chilled and narrowed as he
scanned the vaguely familiar taut frame and handsome face near Amanda.

"Where?" Reis cautiously speculated, implying no
recollection. He wondered why Amanda had insinuated that they had met before, but he went along
with her deception. Apparently she didn't want
Richardson to know he was here on business.
Answers could come later.

Weber stepped closer, slipping his arm around
Amanda's waist and smiling down into her baffled
expression. As Amanda watched and listened, there it
was again, that brief flash of intimidating coldness
which warned her to keep Weber at arm's length.
"Why don't you invite Harrison inside for a brandy?
Since I'm handling your affairs, he can discuss his
business with me," he stated boldly, wanting to study
this man who caused ripples of warning and fury in
him.

As if Reis wanted to do the same, he didn't decline
or speak. As both men waited for Amanda's reaction,
she grasped intangible sensations which didn't sit
well with her. With unsuccessfully disguised an noyance, she chided, "You don't handle family or
personal matters, Web, only business ones," trying to
sound playfully casual. She looked up at Reis and
said, "I'm sorry, Reis. I hope you don't think me
rude, but it is late. Web and my cousin Luke were just
about to leave." Somehow she wanted Reis to know
she and Weber weren't alone. How dare Web act as if
she were his property! "My sister and I have family
matters to discuss in private." To Weber, she said,
"I'll see you later. It's been a long and tiring day for
me and Miranda."

Weber knew he had angered her and was being
dismissed. Before he could contrive an excuse to stay,
Miranda and Lucas joined them. Lucas asked, "Is
there some problem, Mandy?"

"Web was just leaving," Amanda answered.
Turning to Reis, she said, "This is my cousin, Lucas
Reardon, and my sister, Miranda. Luke, Randy, this
is Reis Harrison, one of Papa's friends. Goodnight,
Web," she added to make her dismissal and vexation
clear.

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