She pushed her chair out from the table. Enough of this patronizing boor.
With a loud scraping sound he pulled the chair with her in it back to the table and said, “I’m not through with you yet.”
Two
He poured her a cup of coffee from the urn on the table, leaned back in his chair and observed her through narrowed eyes.
She shook her head and set the cup aside.
“How are you going to stay awake for the Milky Way if you don’t get some caffeine in your system?” he asked.
“I’m not staying awake for the Milky Way. The Milky Way is a galaxy, made up of stars, of which we are all a part, the nebulae, however—”
“Are clouds made of gas and smoke.”
“And dust Very good,” she said with grudging admiration.
“I took notes. Thought there might be a quiz,” he said. “Here’s an idea. Instead of studying those nebulae of yours, why don’t you find a new comet and name it after yourself? Mallory Phillips. It has a nice ring to it.”
“I’ll think about it,” she said. The way he rolled her name around on his tongue made a shiver go up her spine.
“Tea?” he asked.
She capitulated. “All right.” If she wasn’t going to get away from him anytime soon she might as well have a cup of tea.
She thought he’d have someone bring it. Instead he went to the kitchen himself and came back five minutes later with a cup of fragrant, passion peach.
She eyed him over her steaming cup. “Don’t you have...things to do?”
“I have to talk to you. About avoiding the men here.”
“I don’t see how I can do that and still do my job,” she said. “What is my job, by the way? I know, housekeeper. But what does that mean, actually, besides supervising? Supervising who, what, how? How am I supposed to supervise people who know more than I do? Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”
“You’re just nervous,” he said. “It’s a great idea.”
He would say that since it was his idea.
“Not just supervising...coordinating,” he corrected.
“All right, coordinating. What do I coordinate?”
“Everything. Everybody. You’ll learn on the job. You’ll ask people who’ve been here awhile. You’ll find Diane’s household records. Learn where she ordered supplies and groceries and how she assigned housing and who does what around here. Not all at once. As you go along. The important thing is that you not...”
“I know. Run away with your foreman. Don’t worry, it’s not likely to happen again. Not to me, anyway. I’ve never been... As you said, I’m a day late.”
Zach rubbed his hand over his forehead. “You’re not the only one. Day two and the agency still can’t find anybody for me to even interview. How do they expect me to run a thousand-acre ranch without a foreman?” he asked.
“Isn’t two days a little short notice?” she asked. “If you’re so impatient why don’t you just wait for the next man to pull up to your house and hire him?”
“Like I did you? I’ll remind you that I thought they’d sent you. And you did nothing to convince me otherwise.”
“I fainted,” she said taking a sip of the soothing, hot beverage. “That should have tipped you off.”
“Good point. Housekeepers don’t faint. At least Diane never did.”
“Diane this and Diane that. I’m not Diane. I’m not even a housekeeper.”
“You are now,” he said flatly. “It can’t be that hard. But a foreman is another matter. I want someone who’s had experience running a large ranch. They’re out there, I know they are. I just can’t seem to get my hands on one. I don’t expect to get someone like Joe. Whatever his character flaws, he was damned good at what he did.”
Mallory thought of the night she’d met him. His handsome face, his smooth talk, his expertise on the tiny dance floor, plying her with drinks, seducing her with words as well as action in that small hotel room across the road from the bar. Yes, he was damned good at what he did. And she was an admirer, and a willing participant. She couldn’t blame Joe. She’d gone willingly, like a moth to the flame.
“What’s the matter?” Zach said, studying her flushed face.
She picked up her cup and took a large gulp of tea. “Nothing.”
“Were you in love with him?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then why were you going to marry him?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” she said.
“Try me.”
She brushed her hand across her cheek. “I don’t know. I mean...maybe I was in love. I know, people don’t usually get married unless...unless they have a good reason. But what is love, anyway? What does it feel like?” She wished she had been in love. She wished that had been the reason for those wedding plans. And love would have excused her behavior in that hotel room. She really did want to know about love. Just because Zach wasn’t married didn’t mean he didn’t have the answer. Anyone who looked as worldly-wise as he did and was as rich and good-looking as he was had probably been in love dozens of times.
“Damned if I know,” he said, rocking his chair back against the wall and folding his arms behind his head. “You’re asking the wrong person. I don’t think you’ve answered my question yet. If you didn’t know if you were in love, why did you want to get married?”
She set her cup down with a thud. “That’s none of your business.” She’d had all the questions she could handle for one day. If she could summon the energy to walk out, she would. But right now she was drained.
Zach sat at the table, crumpling the napkin with the formula for feed he’d scribbled on it. He looked at her cup and noted the imprint of her lips on the rim. If she wasn’t sitting there staring off into space he would have picked it up and held it to his mouth. To taste passion peach blended with her own elusive scent.
He still didn’t get it. Why in the hell would she want to many a promiscuous stud like Joe if she didn’t love him? Then suddenly he did get it. Because he was a stud, of course. Even Diane couldn’t resist him. So why should a beautiful woman like Mallory?
Tex came in and set a fresh pot of coffee in front of them.
“More tea, Ms. Mallory?” he asked.
She shook her head. She looked like she wanted to leave but was too tired to move. To break the silence Zach turned to Tex. “You’ve been married, Tex, you know anything
