Dancing in the Moonlight - Harlequin.com
Dancing in the Moonlight - Harlequin.com Dancing in the Moonlight - Harlequin.com
Chapter Three He had always considered himself the most even-tempered of men. He didn’t get overly excited at sporting events, he had never struck another creature in anger, he could handle even the most dramatic medical emergencies that walked or were carried through his clinic doors with calm control. But as Jake raced across the rutted, uneven ground toward Magdalena Cruz and her horse, he could feel the hot spike of his temper. As he neared her, he caught an even better view of her. He ground his teeth with frustration mingled with a deep and poignant sadness for what she had endured. She had her prosthesis off and the leg of her jeans rolled up, and even from a dozen feet away he could see her amputation site was a raw, mottled red.
46 DANCING IN THE MOONLIGHT As he neared, he saw her shoulders go back, her chin lift, as if she were bracing herself for battle. Good. He wasn’t about to disappoint her. “Didn’t the Army teach you anything about common sense?” he snapped. She glared at him, and he thought for sure his heart would crack apart as he watched her try to quickly yank the leg of her jeans down to cover her injury. “You’re trespassing, Dalton. Last I checked this was still Rancho de la Luna land.” “And last I checked, someone just a few days out of extensive rehab ought to have the good sense not to overdo things.” She grabbed her prosthesis as if she wanted to shove it on again—or at least fling it in his face—but he grabbed hold of it before she could try either of those things. “Stop. You’re only going to aggravate the site again.” Every instinct itched to reach and take a look at her leg but he knew he had to respect her boundaries, just as he knew she wouldn’t welcome his efforts to look out for her. “How long have you had this prosthesis?” he asked. She clamped her teeth together as if she wasn’t going to answer him, but she finally looked away and mumbled. “A few weeks.” “Didn’t your prosthetist warn you it would take longer than that to adjust to it?” he asked. “You can’t run a damn marathon the day after you stick it on.” “I wasn’t trying to run a marathon,” she retorted hotly. “I was only checking the fence line. We had a couple cows get out last night and we’re trying to figure out where they made a break for it.”
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Chapter Three<br />
He had always considered himself <strong>the</strong> most even-tempered<br />
of men. He didn’t get overly excited at sport<strong>in</strong>g<br />
events, he had never struck ano<strong>the</strong>r creature <strong>in</strong> anger, he<br />
could handle even <strong>the</strong> most dramatic medical emergencies<br />
that walked or were carried through his cl<strong>in</strong>ic doors<br />
with calm control.<br />
But as Jake raced across <strong>the</strong> rutted, uneven ground<br />
toward Magdalena Cruz and her horse, he could feel <strong>the</strong><br />
hot spike of his temper.<br />
As he neared her, he caught an even better view of<br />
her. He ground his teeth with frustration m<strong>in</strong>gled with<br />
a deep and poignant sadness for what she had endured.<br />
She had her pros<strong>the</strong>sis off and <strong>the</strong> leg of her jeans<br />
rolled up, and even from a dozen feet away he could see<br />
her amputation site was a raw, mottled red.
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