Warrior in Her Bed Read Online Free Page B

abilities.
    â€œDon’t let Uncle Johnny buffalo you. He’s really just a big old teddy bear.”
    Annie tried not to choke on the image. If the man were any kind of bear, a grizzly was what came to mind. Nevertheless, she offered Crimson an appreciative smile for her concern, all the while offering up a little prayer that this girl’s beloved uncle had gone into early hibernation and that he would stay there until her own limited tenure was over.
    A few hours later, after all her students had vacated the art room, Annie became so completely absorbed in her own work that she had no idea she was not alone. It would take something far louder than a man’s studious gaze to disrupt her concentration when she was thus engaged in her work. Even a man whose presence was as disquieting as the one focused so intently upon her at the moment.
    â€œVery nice,” Johnny Lonebear murmured, stepping behind her to see what it was that held her attention so completely.
    Startled, Annie almost dropped the sizable piece of glass that she held in her hand. She could have sworn he had deliberately sneaked up on her wearing moccasins rather than the pair of work boots he favored. Strangely enough, his compliment burgeoned inside her like a rare tropical flower blooming in the desert. Though Annie knew he was referring to the intricate pattern laid out upon her workbench, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to hear this man speak in such silky tones about the scent of her perfume or the cut of her hair or the swell of her breasts as he fondled them in both hands.
    â€œI’m happy that it meets with your approval,” she said tersely, hoping to banish such images with uncharacteristic brusqueness.
    Ignoring the obvious ploy to send him on his way, Johnny lingered over her design. He ran a lazy finger over the intriguing bumpy texture that was destined to become part of an amethyst horizon representing both nightfall and daybreak. Though Annie thought it would serve him right if the rough edge cut him, she refrained from saying so, hoping that by keeping silent, he would simply take the hint and leave.
    He didn’t.
    â€œI’ve received a lot of unsolicited and contradictory advice lately in regard to you,” he told her in a matter-of-fact tone of voice that caught Annie off guard. He leaned his weight on the workbench and gave her what could almost pass as a conciliatory grin.
    Annie willed herself not to give in to the temptation of pressing for information that she suspected would only be hurtful.
    â€œIs that so?” she asked as nonchalantly as she could manage over a heartbeat that was galloping out of control.
    â€œMy niece insists I should apologize to you,” he explained. “And a certain teacher on my staff whom I greatly respect called me up out of the blue yesterday to scold me on your behalf. But my dear sister is still under the impression that you have snakes in your head and wants me to fire you before you completely ruin her daughter.”
    â€œSnakes in my head?” Annie parroted. Her confusion was reflected in the furrows in her forehead.
    â€œIt’s an old Indian expression meaning crazy,” Johnny told her with a crooked grin. His gaze fell upon the array of cutting tools set upon the bench. “Looking at the quality of your work, and word of mouth as to your teaching ability, I’m inclined to agree with Crimson Dawn. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t let her know that, though. Any administrator worth his salt recognizes it’s not good for teenagers to be right too often.”
    Annie was as taken aback by his backhanded concession as by the sudden appearance of a wry sense of humor.
    â€œIs that supposed to pass as an apology?” she asked, clearly unsettled by this strange turn of events.
    â€œIf you’re waiting for a formal act of contrition, I wouldn’t recommend holding your breath,” he said in