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Enemy Lovers (Friendship Chronicles Book 5) by Shelley Munro (1)

Whoa. Dallas O’Grady caught a glimpse of blonde hair seconds before the woman kicked her flat tire. She owned the sexiest arse he’d seen in months. Without another thought, he pulled his truck onto the shoulder and climbed out to offer assistance.

“Problem?”

“My brother is an idiot.” Her lyrical voice held the same crisp chill of the wind whistling across the Napier road. She turned, and he caught a friendly smile belying her words. “Thanks for stop— You!”

The smile skidded away.

Hard drops of rain fell on Dallas’s face, the sleeves of his brown leather jacket, as he eyeballed a very sexy, very grown-up Laura Drummond. His gaze shifted to the gray, washed out clouds, the sky building to dense black on the horizon, then to the rear tire on her late model sedan. “Fine, if you don’t want my help, I’ll be leaving.”

“No, please.” Her hand shot out to halt his retreat. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry you’re hobnobbing with the enemy?” He spelled out what they were both thinking. Their parents would issue horrendous battle cries if they witnessed this scene, saw the pair inhaling the same air, let alone engaging in something civil like a conversation.

She swept a strand of blonde hair away from her pink lips. “You’re not my enemy. I don’t know you.” She stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets, hunched her shoulders against the rain and stamped her feet. “Look, I’m grouchy. I have a flat. My brother borrowed my spare last week and told me he put it back. My phone is dead, and I’m not going to make Clare in time for my cousin’s hen party. My mother will make dolls in my image and stick pins in them.”

“My brother said there’s a slip partially blocking the road leading into the town, near the Shannon Pass. If it keeps raining, they might close the roads, if they haven’t already. You wouldn’t make it even if your car was drivable.”

“Yep, I’m screwed,” she said.

No, she wasn’t—not yet, but he’d love to take that thought to its logical conclusion. While their families might harbor long-standing grudges, his dick wasn’t sticking with the program. The skinny Laura Drummond from his vague school-day memories had grown into a classy woman. Her brown eyes glinted with intelligence while her mouth…

Dallas tore his gaze off her because his inappropriate thoughts bore repercussions. For one—a painful hard-on. And two, no way could he cozy up with the enemy.

He cleared his throat. “What do you want to do? I can give you a lift to Clare and hope we’ll make it past the slip, or I can ring for a breakdown truck.”

The rain was coming down harder now, icy crystal pellets pummeling his cheeks. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, worried it then nodded a decisive agreement.

“Let me grab my purse and overnight bag,” she said. “I’ll grab a ride and chance my luck. The slip might have been cleared already.”

Dallas told himself not to look, but when she bent over to retrieve her bag, his eyes zeroed in on her arse.

Down boy.

God, he hadn’t experienced this sort of reaction to a woman for a long time. He wanted to fuck her. He wanted to fuck her mouth, holding her in place by her hair, and most of all he wanted to tie her to his bed. He wanted the classy Laura Drummond to submit to him while he fucked them both to breath-stealing pleasure.

Shaking the lust away, he accepted her bag and stowed it behind the driver’s seat. He straightened, his mind leaping straight to her and sexual desire. Man, he was weak. Giving in to his libido, he watched her lock her sedan and splash through puddles to join him.

“You don’t resemble your sisters and brother.” They were dark-haired, her sisters both shorter than Laura.

“Nope, everyone says I’m the cuckoo in the nest.” She peeled off her wet raincoat and slid her long legs into his vehicle. “Ugh, it’s bucketing down out there. I’m lucky you came along.”

She was still talking when Dallas climbed behind the wheel. Nervous? He grunted, started his truck and pulled on to the road, trying to ignore the unpleasant sensation of water dripping down his neck.

“I take after my great-grandmother on my mother’s side. They say I’m her twin.”

Dallas nodded while his mind trotted back to the more pleasant occupation of imagining this woman naked and engaged with him in things carnal. A whoosh of heat replaced the chill of wet clothes.

“What are you going to do if the road is closed?” she asked.

“My cabin is on this side.”

“Oh.”

“Are you wondering what I’m going to do with you if the road is closed?”

“Please.” A strangled laugh emerged from her, tinged with a healthy dose of uncertainty. “I doubt you’d do away with me.”

“But you’re not too sure?” He set the window wipers to a faster speed and eased up on the accelerator, not taking his attention off the road. “I am one of those O’Gradys.”

“Positive.” She slanted him an ice-princess look, lifted that elegant nose just so. “I’m pretty sure you’re not hiding horns under your hair, although you might be concealing a tail. Even so, I’m confident I’ll get through this ordeal unscathed. I’ll grab a ride back to Napier. There’s bound to be someone heading to the city.”

Dallas barked out a laugh, amused at her sly humor lurking beneath the hauteur. She didn’t act like any Drummond he’d come into contact with in the past. He’d thought he might have consigned himself to an hour of chilly silence—more than an hour in these driving conditions. But she’d tossed his assumptions on their butt, and he found himself wanting to explore her mentally. Ditto the physical.

“What do you do for a job?” He shot her a quick glance, caught the wrinkling of her nose.

“My mother organized a place for me at a charity. I’m working for them at present, but I’d prefer a position with more challenge.”

“What sort of employment are you looking for?” Hearsay said Laura’s older sisters had never worked in their lives. They’d done the socialite thing, found rich husbands and married. They were now popping out a new generation of Drummonds to heap down hate on the O’Grady family.

“I enjoy organizing things, which makes me a natural in the administration field.”

“Are you good with computers?”

“Not bad. Any program I don’t know, I can learn. I’m a quick study.” Her chin lifted a fraction as if she expected him to challenge her statement.

Again, he found a smile pushing his lips for escape. He enjoyed a woman who surprised him. “If you weren’t a Drummond, I’d offer you a job.”

“What sort? What do you do?”

Again, not the reaction he’d expected. “My brothers and I own a couple of Irish bars in Napier, and I have several rental properties. It’s getting too much for me to handle the paperwork along with the day-to-day things.” The pub where he had his office wasn’t in the best part of town. Nah, he couldn’t see Laura slumming it at O’Grady’s. “We’re thinking of buying the old pub in Clare.”

“The one that closed down due to fire damage?”

“Yeah.” Dallas peered through the windshield, not taking his eyes off the road.

“Can I interview for the job?”

Dallas slowed even further until his truck crawled. Closer to the Shannon Pass, the rain slapped the windows, obliterated the scenery. What he could see of the sky was a sullen gray and lightning flashed in the distance, followed by a rumble of thunder. “You want to work in a pub? Maybe I should check you for horns and a tail. You have an impish sense of humor.”

“I’m not joking,” she said, and he felt the weight of her gaze. “But if you want to check me for devilish signs you go right ahead. I might enjoy it.”

Dallas opened his mouth, shut it again, risked a swift glance in her direction. A tiny grin played around her luscious lips. Oh yeah. She was pleased with herself. “I’m an O’Grady, sweetheart. I don’t possess the right bloodlines for you.”

“My parents want me to marry James Summerville.”

Another glance away from the road. Her big brown eyes held silent messages, and it took him an extended second to grasp the stray snippets of gossip and knit them together. His lips pursed in a silent whistle. “Isn’t he gay?”

“Yup, but James wants marriage. A… Sorry, you don’t want to hear about me.” Laura wiped a round circle on the passenger side window. A polite dismissal of the subject. “I don’t like the look of this rain. If anything it’s getting worse.”

“It’s not looking promising,” he agreed, deciding to let her get away with the change of topic. “Not wedding weather.”

“My cousin was set on an early spring wedding. Heck, I picture her stamping her foot and having a full-blown tantrum about the weather. She should’ve listened to the wedding planner. This time of year is always unpredictable.” Wily amusement colored her voice, and Dallas found his lips quirking. He fought the need to fall into a full-out smile of delight. If she’d been anyone else, he’d proposition her, offer her a cozy weekend of hot sex at his cabin.

But that wasn’t gonna happen.

She was a Drummond.

“What about the rest of the guests?”

“My cousin had that covered. Her fiancé flew in guests via helicopter yesterday. They’ve had an entire week of celebrations planned.”

“So why aren’t you there partaking in the social festivities?”

“I told my mother she arranged this job for me by twisting arms and mowing over objections. I couldn’t, in good conscience, duck out whenever it suited her because I’d taken the job from other, more qualified people. And while she was spluttering trying to marshal objections, I hung up on her.” Satisfaction oozed from each word.

“Lady, you’re bad.”

When he was ten, Dallas had witnessed Jessica Drummond in action, and she’d left a lasting impression. Fire-breathing dragons had nothing on the Drummond matriarch.

“Sometimes,” she agreed.

Dallas’s hands tightened on the wheel. He’d love to play with this one and discover how deep her bad ran. Down boy. “We’re almost at the pass now.”

Up ahead, he caught a flash of red and blue lights through the windshield.

“Looks as if they’ve closed the pass,” Dallas said. “You should be able to get a ride back to Napier with the police.”

He slowed his truck and came to a stop when a man flagged them down.

Laura sighed. “I’m gonna be in big trouble.”

“When is the actual wedding?”

“Next Saturday,” she said. “With the way this rain is falling, I doubt they’ll open the pass soon. On the plus side, my bridesmaid dress is hideous. Orange—no, pardon me—apricot with a truck load of ghastly ruffles. Can I borrow your phone?”

“Sure, but reception is bad here.”

A cop rapped on Dallas’s window and he rolled it down.

“Oh, it’s you, Dallas,” Mason, one of his older brother’s friends said. “We’ve closed the pass. Had lots of rain this afternoon, and a couple of slips have come down. Road’s blocked.”

“Are you going back to Napier?” Laura asked.

Dallas already knew the answer. Mason had a house not far from here.

Mason’s gaze narrowed when recognition struck him. His lean body stiffened and his welcoming smile turned cool. “Nope, I’m heading back home. Came out to put up the signs.”

“Looks like you’re stuck with me, Dallas,” Laura said. “Do you know if the phone lines are down?” She directed this to Mason.

“Not so far.”

“Would you do me a favor?” she asked. “I need to get a message to my family to let them know I’m safe. Tell them I’m driving back to Napier and will return once the pass is cleared.”

“But you’re—” Mason stopped and scowled at Dallas. “Are you with him of your own volition, Ms. Drummond?”

Sudden strain sucked the air from his truck, pushed tension across Dallas’s shoulders. “Fuck you.”

Laura reached over and patted Dallas’s hand. It was knuckle-white and clenched around the wheel. “Of course I am. I had a flat tire, and Dallas offered me a lift.”

“Why didn’t you fix it?” Mason’s gaze was cop-intense and a scarce millimeter from interrogation.

“Because my idiot brother stole my spare tire. Aaron is the one you should go after, Officer. Not Dallas. Are you frightened of my mother?”

“No,” Mason said quickly. Too quickly.

And just like that, the tautness dissipated in Dallas. He winged a smirk at Mason and waited.

“I asked you to ring her because she’ll accept your word. If I ring from Dallas’s house, she’ll ask questions. Heck, she’ll ring the law and demand you retrieve me from the devil’s clutch,” Laura said. “Wouldn’t you prefer to go home and dry out? Stay in the warm?”

“I’m beginning to see your point of view,” Mason said. “I’ll make the call. Dallas will you be okay getting home?”

“The road was clear this morning, and with four-wheel drive, it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Take care,” Mason said.

“Officer?”

“Yes, Ms. Drummond?”

“You didn’t see us together, did you?”

“No,” he said. “As far as I know you drove safely back to Napier. Where did you leave your car? I’ll put a call into dispatch so they know there are no problems.”

Two minutes later, Dallas was turning his truck and driving back to the turnoff for his cabin. Since they’d said goodbye to Mason, the earlier friendliness had switched to something dark and edgy. Every part of him tingled with anticipation.

Big, bad wolf was ready to play.

“Do you know what you’re doing?” he asked.

She sat primly in his passenger seat, manicured hands resting in her lap. Her expression was calm until she focused on him. “Yanking the devil’s tail,” she said. “Does it hurt?”

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