Page 19 of High Value Target

He called after her. “Check the stall before you get in.”

“Not funny,” she replied, still walking away.

“Wasn’t meant to be, darlin’.”

“I’m not your darlin’.”

Grady couldn’t keep the grin off his face at her emphatic response. Then he climbed in her car and backed it off the azalea bush, its tires spinning until it caught the pavement. He got out and inspected the body. It wasn’t too bad, a few scratches that could probably be buffed out with a good waxing.

He put his radio to his mouth. “Cancel the order on Miss Wyatt. She won’t be leaving this morning. But I need you to get a staff member to give her car a good wash and wax. She just went off roading with it.”

“Off roading, sir?”

“Never mind, just make the call.” He climbed back into the vehicle and drove the expensive car back up to the house.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Tinsley retired until her pounding headache eased. It was mid-afternoon by the time she descended the stairs to find Grady leaning in the doorway of her father’s study, chatting with the man like they were fast friends. Had the world turned upside down? Her father rarely conversed with the staff, and that’s what Mr. Grady Steele was to her. Staff. Nothing more. Even if he had given in and told her he’d make sure Pharaoh was looked after.

She breezed past the door on the way to the front entrance. “I’m going shopping now. If I’m not back by dinner, start without me.”

She heard her father chuckle. “I guess you’re going shopping, Mr. Steele.”

Grady pushed off the doorframe and sighed, following her out.

Secretly, she smiled. She was going to have a marvelous time torturing him today. She glanced timidly in the door of her car, looking around, unsure if she should climb inside the thing.

“Don’t worry. We’ve checked it top to bottom. No more crawling or slithering creatures to pop out at you.” Grady opened the passenger door.

She slid her shades on and climbed behind the wheel.

Grady climbed in the seat next to hers. Before he could buckle up, she pressed the button that put the convertible top down. “I hope you don’t mind the sun.”

“Do I have a choice?”

She didn’t bother replying and gunned the gas pedal. The tires fishtailed for a moment before they caught. God, she loved her car.

“Whoa, there. Maybe I should drive.”

“Not a chance. This is my baby.”

“I thought the horse was your baby.”

“They’re both my babies.”

“Lucky you.”

“I am, aren’t I?”

“So, what are you shopping for today?”

“I need a dress for the Ten Best Dressed Women in Dallas luncheon and fashion show tomorrow.”

“Great. This should be loads of fun.”

She giggled. “Oh, it will be.”

“Maybe for you.”

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