32
Kimberly climbed onto her stool, drained the last of her beer and waited for Clara to glance her way.
She sensed a manly presence behind her. Smiling, she turned to face the cowboy she knew would be standing there, planning to tell him she would be happy to dance with him as soon as she’d made a phone call.
Her heart jumped into her throat and got stuck there, cutting off her air, when she saw that it wasn’t a cowboy at all.
It was Asher Adams.
———————————-
He was wearing jeans and rawhide boots, a dark sweatshirt and a heavy canvas jacket. He smelled of the cold mountain air outside and he looked more dangerous and exciting and wonderful than any of the handsome cowboys she’d danced with so far. His expression, however, was even bleaker than usual.
“Time to go, Kimberly,” He said. His voice sent the usual infuriating warm shivers cascading through her.
She swallowed her silly heart back down into its proper place and remained on her stool. “No, thank you. I’m having a lovely time and I’m not ready to leave yet.” she said. She didn’t care how angry he looked. She wasn’t going to show him that the look in his eyes scared and excited her at the same time.
He frowned rather thunderously and then touched the device in his ear, listening.
After a moment, he said, “Yes, sir. All is well, sir. Although Kimberly is reluctant to leave.”
Kimberly groaned. “Is that my father?” she asked. “You called my father. Oh… Really? Big bad macho bodyguard man couldn’t find me and then he calls my father.” she sighed.
Asher granted her a put-upon glance as he spoke again-but not to her. “Yes, sir. I will. Thank you, sir.” he said.
The call appeared to have been concluded, so she asked a second time, “My father?”
He scowled, an expression both dismissive and chock full of exasperation. “That was your father, yes. I had to let him know you were missing. I was calling you, and you didn’t pick up. I thought maybe he could talk to you. Are you ready to go now, Kimberly?”
Was she ready to go? She thought. Hating his question. He was such a stickler for protocol. She wanted to toss her drink in his face. Unfortunately, it was empty.
“No. I am not ready to go.” she said carelessly. If you insist on staying here until I am ready, please move away from me.”
She flung out a hand in the direction of the far wall. “Go over there and lurk in the shadows somewhere. No one will ask me to dance with you standing right next to me, glowering.” she said.
He told her again, as if he hadn’t already said it twice, “Kimberly, we have to leave.”
“No, we most certainly do not. Go if you want to. I’m staying.” she said. “I came here with Phoebe, and I’m certainly not leaving her here to go anywhere with you”.
He stood even straighter-if that was possible. “Kimberly, there’s a storm coming,” he said. “We have to go”
She answered with excruciating pleasantness. “If you tell me that we have to leave one more time, I am going to throw back my head and scream.”
He tried again, without expression or vocal inflection-and without saying ‘We have to go’ again, since it seemed to annoy her. Right now, he would do anything so they would leave. “There is a snowstorm coming. It could be a bad one. It is imperative that we return to the safety of your apartment.” he said.
“What are you talking about? There was no storm predicted.” Kimberly argued.
“I noticed the clouds gathering and I listened to the weather channel,” he explained slowly and patiently, as one would speak to an idiot or a very young child. “There is a snowstorm coming. Please take my word for it.” he said.
“But it’s April. I don’t believe you. And even if there is a little snow on the way, look at all these people.” She held out her hands, palms out, indicating the large, busy bar and everyone in it. “If the weather is going to be dangerous, why aren’t they leaving?”
“It is going to snow, Kimberly,” he said.
“Oh, because you’re such an expert.” she said sarcastically.
“These people here probably have a place they can go to immediately. They might even have proper outerwear and the right vehicles for that situation, which we don’t have.”Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.
“I have the right vehicle. And I can drive it perfectly well. And as to my lack of outerwear, the pickup I drove here has a heater. What do you think about that?” Kimberly said, obviously very proud of herself.
“Kimberly Blake. It’s time to go.” Asher said.
She blinked at him. “You must be really upset. You just called me by my full name.” she said.
He stared at her for several seconds and then said, too softly, “Please.”
She had never heard him sound that way before, so calm and soft. She felt herself wavering, starting to feel like a spoiled, misbehaving child.
But no. She wasn’t going to slink out of here just because Asher Adams wanted her to. She didn’t believe him about the weather. He was just saying that to get her to go.
The facts were simple. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. The clock over the bar said it was just ten-thirty and she had every right to stay a little longer if she wanted to.
Especially now that he’d tracked her down. Now that he was here, doing his precious duty, protecting her, if for any reason she happened to need protection-which she had not at any point thus far. He could protect her here. That was his job anyway, to protect her not imprison her.
Her father knew where she was and that her bodyguard was with her and that meant no one was actually worried about what might happen to her. There was no real reason why she couldn’t stay for just a bit.
“Asher. Go and stand by the wall. I want to dance some more. I will let you know when I am ready to leave.” she said finally.