[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

don't want to talk about it." His eyes narrowed. Apparently it was a
painful subject. He let it drop. His eyes went to the girls and not
without misgiving. "Why are they in here with you?"
"The storm woke them up. They got scared and came to me," she
said defensively. "I didn't go get them."
He was studying them quietly. His expression was hard, grave,
wounded.
"I'm sure they went to look for you first," she began defensively.
His eyes glittered down into hers. "We've had this conversation
before. Miss Parsons is supposed to be their govern-ness," he
emphasized.
"Miss Parsons is probably snoring her head off," she said curtly.
"She sleeps like the dead. Bess had a fever week before last, and
she didn't even get up when I woke her and told her about it. She
said that a fever never hurt anybody!"
"That was when she had strep and I took her to the doctor," he
recalled. "Miss Parsons said she was sick. I assumed that she'd
been up in the night with her."
"Dream on."
He glared at her. "I'll excuse it this time," he said, ignoring the ref-
erence he didn't like to Miss Parsons and her treatment of Bess.
He'd have something to say to the woman about that. "Next time,
come and find me if you can't wake Miss Parsons."
She just stared back, silent.
"Did you hear me, Kasie?" he demanded softly.
"All right." She glanced from one side of her to the other. "Do you
want to wake them up and carry them back to their own beds?"
He looked furious. "If I do, we'll all be awake the rest of the night.
We had cattle get out, and we got soaked trying to get them back
in. I'm worn-out. I want to go to sleep."
"Nobody here is stopping you," she murmured.
His pale eyes narrowed. "I should have let you go when you of-
fered to resign," he said caustically.
"There's still time," she pointed out, growing more angry by the
minute.
He cursed under his breath, glared at her again and walked out.
The next morning, Kasie woke to soft pummeling little hands and
laughing voices.
"Get up, Kasie, get up! Daddy's taking us to the movies today!"
She yawned and curled up. "Not me," she murmured sleepily. "Go
get breakfast, babies. Mrs. Charters will feed you." "You got to
come, too!" Bess said. "I want to sleep," she murmured. "Daddy,
she won't get up!" Bess wailed. "Oh, yes, she will."
Kasie barely had time to register the deep voice before the covers
were torn away and she was lifted bodily out of the bed in a pair
of very strong arms.
Shocked, she stared straight into pale blue eyes and felt as if
she'd been electrified.
"I'll wake her up," Gil told the girls. "Go down and eat your break-
fast."
"Okay, Daddy!"
The girls left gleefully, laughing as they went to the staircase.
"You look like a nun in that gown," Gil remarked as he studied his
light burden, aware of her sudden stillness. Her face was very
close. He searched it quietly. "And you've got freckles, Kasie, just
across the bridge of your nose."
"Put...put me down," she said, unnerved by the proximity. She
didn't like the sensations it caused to feel his chest right against
her bare breasts.
"Why?" he asked. He gazed into her eyes. "You hardly weigh any-
thing." His eyes narrowed as he studied her face thoroughly. "You
have big eyes," he murmured. "With little flecks of blue in them.
Your face looks more round than oval, especially with your hair
down. Your mouth is " he searched for a word, more touched
than he wanted to be by its vulnerability " full and soft. Half-
asleep you don't come across as a fighter. But you are, aren't
you?"
Her hands were resting lightly around his neck and she stared at
him disconcertedly while she wondered what John or Miss Par-
sons would say if they walked in unexpectedly to find them in this
position.
"You should put me down," she said huskily.
"Don't you like being carried?" he murmured absently.
She shivered as she remembered the last time she'd been car-
ried, by an orderly in the hospital...
She pushed at him. "Please."
He set her back down, scowling curiously at the odd pastiness of
her complexion. "You're mysterious, Kasie."
"Not really. I'm just sleepy." She folded her arms over her breasts
and flushed. "Could you leave, please, and let me get dressed?"
He watched her curiously. "Why don't you date? And don't hand
me any bull about stinking cowboys."
She was reluctant to tell him anything about herself. She was a
private person. Her aunt, Mama Luke, always said that people
shouldn't worry others with their personal problems. She didn't.
"I don't want to get married, ever."
He really scowled then. "Why?"
She thought of her parents and then of Kantor, and her eyes
closed on the pain. "Love hurts too much."
He didn't speak. For an instant, he felt the pain that seemed to
rack her delicate features, and he understood it, all too well.
"You loved someone who died," he recalled.
She nodded and her eyes met his. "And so did you."
For an instant, his hard face was completely unguarded. He was
vulnerable, mortal, wounded. "Yes."
"It doesn't pass away, like they say, does it?" she asked softly.
"Not for a long time."
He moved a step closer, and this time she didn't back up. Her
eyes lifted to his. He slid his big, lean hand into the thick waves of
her chestnut hair and enjoyed its silkiness. "Why don't you wear
your hair down, like this?"
"It's sinful," she whispered.
"What?"
"When you dress and wear your hair in a way that's meant to
tempt men, to try to seduce them, it's sinful," she repeated.
His lips fell open. He didn't know how to answer that. He'd never
had a woman, especially a modern woman, say such a thing to
him.
"Do you think sex is a sin?" he asked.
"Outside of marriage, it is," she replied simply.
"You don't move with the times, do you?" he asked on an expul-
sion of breath.
"No," she replied.
He started smiling and couldn't stop. "Oh, boy."
"The girls will be waiting. Are you really taking them to a movie?"
she asked.
"Yes." One eye narrowed. "I need to take you to one, too. Some-
thing X-rated.''
She flushed. "Get out of here and stop trying to corrupt me.
"You're overdue."
"Stop or I'll have Mama Luke come over and lecture you."
He frowned. "Mama Luke?"
"My aunt."
"What an odd name."
She shrugged. "Our whole family runs to odd names." "I noticed."
She made a face. "I work for you. My private life is my own busi-
ness."
"You don't have a private life," he said, and smiled tenderly.
"I'm a great reader. I love Plutarch and Tacitus and Ar-rian."
"Good God!"
"There's nothing wrong with ancient history. Things were just as
bad then as they are now. All the ancient writers said that the
younger generation was headed straight to purgatory and the
world was corrupt."
"Arrian didn't."
"Arrian wrote about Alexander the Great," she reminded him. "Al-
exander's world was in fairly good shape, apparently."
"Arrian wrote about Alexander in the distant past, not his own pre-
sent." His eyes became soft with affection as he looked at her.
"Why don't I like you? There isn't a person in my circle of acquain-
tances who would even know who Arrian was, much less what he
wrote about."
"I don't like you much, either," she shot right back. "But I guess I
can stand it if you can."
"I'll have to," he mused. "If I let you walk out, the girls will push me
down the staircase and call you back to support them at my fu-
neral."
She shivered abruptly and wrapped her arms around herself. Fu-
neral. Funeral...
"Kasie!"
Her somber eyes came up. She was barely breathing.
"Don't...joke about things like that."
"Kasie, I didn't mean it that way," he began.
She forced a smile. "Of course not. I have to get dressed."
He lifted an eyebrow. "You might as well come as you are. I
haven't seen a gown like that since I stayed with my grandmother
as a child." He shook his head. "You'd set a lingerie shop back
decades if that style caught on."
"It's a perfectly functional gown."
"Functional. Yes. It's definitely functional. And about as seductive
as chain mail," he added. "Good!" [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

zanotowane.pl

doc.pisz.pl

pdf.pisz.pl

glaz.keep.pl