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“No.” She gave him a disgruntled look. “Can I have another tissue please?”

He hid a smile. He’d get her comfortable enough with him eventually that she’d let him take care of her in all ways.

Well, hopefully. If she reacted well to what he had to tell her. He grabbed an antihistamine and some of the bottled water he’d brought with him. “You’re okay to take some antihistamines?”

“Yes, thank you.” She swallowed them down as he gently grasped hold of her foot.

“Oh, poor darling, it’s really swollen, isn’t it?”

She whimpered as he ran some cream over the red patch. “Does that hurt?”

“Just a little bit,” she sniffled. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry, little one?”

“I kind of ruined the picnic, didn’t I?”

“Hey.” Moving on instinct, he pulled her onto his lap. She tensed. “You didn’t ruin anything.” He ran his hand up and down her back. “If anyone is at fault, it’s me for letting you walk around without your sandals on. From now on, you wear shoes when you’re outside.”

“This is hardly your fault and you didn’t let me do anything. I make my own decisions.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “But I’m the kind of guy who likes to take care of people who are special to him.”

“Your old-fashioned views?” she asked, losing some of her tension and leaning against his chest with a sigh.

“Sort of. I want to ask you a question. You don’t have to answer it, but you mustn’t lie. All right?”

“Yes, okay.”

“Do any of those books you like to read have BDSM in them?”

“Um, yes.” She squirmed around and he had to hold her still before it became obvious just how much he enjoyed having her on his lap.

“Is there any aspect of BDSM that you particularly enjoy reading about?”

“I . . . I guess so.”

She didn’t elaborate. He decided to tread softly. The last thing he wanted was to send her running.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed to tell me what you like, Marisol. I’d like to know everything about you.”

“Why?” she breathed out. “I thought we were just friends?”

“We are. And I know you said you couldn’t be anything more than friends. But I’m attracted to you. And I think you might feel the same way about me?” He pulled her back so he could look down into her face.

She bit her lip but gave a small nod. “I don’t think there’s a woman alive who wouldn’t be attracted to you. There’s something about you. You can be sweet and funny, but also commanding and protective. I like the way you look after me. That you’re not trying to be someone you’re not. You can make fun of yourself. I think you like to be in control but you’re not a dick about it.”

“I certainly hope I’m not,” he told her. “And if I ever am, you can tell me.”

“I heard some gossip the other day at the spa.”

“Oh.” Was she trying to change the subject? “Gossip?”

She wiggled again. Christ, was she trying to kill him? He held her steady.

“I don’t usually listen, but I was covering for Eileen who was sick. Mrs. Long and her friends were talking about the ranch. I didn’t put much credence in what they were saying.”

“And what were they saying?” He knew Wilma Long and her friends. A bunch of narrow-minded women who made it their business to know everything that went on in Wishingbone. They weren’t nice people and he didn’t like Marisol being around them.


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