“I see.” He stood up and fisted his hands around the back of his chair, his knuckles white with tension.
“What’s wrong?”
“Let’s get you to the Bays’, Annie, and then home. You’re right. I have tons of work to do around here.”
Chapter Eight
He had promised his mother he’d come for supper. On a Sunday evening. That was the excuse Dallas gave Annie when he broke their date for her to cook him dinner. No offer to take her with him to meet his sainted mother. No offer of a rain check.
He had hardly spoken to her as he drove her to her office to get medication for Catie’s horse, back to the Bay ranch, and then to her apartment. If he hadn’t wanted to be with her, why hadn’t he just taken her home and let her make her own way over to the Bays’? Sure, she had no car, but she had a feeling Catie or her brother would have gladly driven into town to fetch her.
Because Dallas had said he’d do it, and he wouldn’t go back on his word. He was the consummate gentleman.
It was starting to get on her nerves.
She thought back on their morning. He had made love to her twice, had all but begged her to stay with him for the day, and then suddenly he had become distant.
What had they been talking about? The pill. She was on the pill, and had been on it all through her marriage to Riggs. For good reason. Why would that upset him?
He had kissed her goodbye, but it was a light brush of his lips on her cheek. Then he had cupped her face in his hands and stared into her eyes for a few seconds. He had wanted to kiss her. Thoroughly. She was sure of it. His need and desire were so thick she could feel it in the air, but he had backed away.
“I’ll see you around, Annie,” he had said. Not “I’ll call you later.” Not “When can I see you again?”
He’d called her Annie, not Doc.
He probably wanted time to think. Sure. That was it. Time. They had only just met. She could give him time. Hell, she should want time herself.
But she didn’t. She wanted to be in his arms. In his bed.
She sighed and picked up the box containing her college degree and her veterinary doctorate. Time to hang them in the office downstairs. She pulled out the framed and matted diploma.
Annalisa DeSimone Riggs. Doctor of Veterinary Medicine.
She made a mental note to contact the university and get a new copy of her degree, minus the Riggs. She didn’t want to think about him every time she glanced at the wall in her office.
She plunked into her office chair and raked her fingers through her curls, matted f
rom perspiration. She inhaled. Sweaty horse. Riggs had hated how she smelled after working with animals. He’d hated so much.
Damn him. Damn Logan Riggs.
And damn Dallas McCray. Stupid cowboy. The truth cut through her heart. He didn’t want time. He had just wanted sex. It had been about the sex all along, and now he was done.
Were all men truly assholes? Why couldn’t she catch a break? Again, she dropped her gaze to her veterinary degree.
Annalisa DeSimone Riggs, the doctorate jeered. The print pulsed against the stark white contrast, mocking her. You’re nothing but a whore, a goddamned bitch. Only good for a fuck.
Only good for a fuck. Clearly, Dallas saw her the same way.
She threw the framed degree against the wall, her heart thundering. As shards of glass speckled the carpet, Annie burst into tears and cried for a long time.
* * *
He didn’t call.
By Thursday Annie had resigned herself to the fact that her affair with Dallas McCray had been just that—an affair. A one-night stand that had lasted for a weekend. A glorious weekend of mind-boggling sex. That was it.
She was no stranger to disappointment. She could get over this hurdle. All things considered, it was nothing. She hardly knew Dallas McCray.