but I’ve never hurt you.”
That was true enough. She stared down at her hands, folded in her lap. “I don’t know,” she lied.
He lifted a careless eyebrow. “Were you afraid I’d make a pass?”
She flushed, and he threw back his head and laughed deeply.
“You were fifteen,” he reminded her with a chuckle. “And you had even less to draw a man’s eye than you do now.” His eyes were on her small breasts, and she wanted to dive through the window.
Defensively she folded her arms over her chest and lowered her eye to the floorboard, so embarrassed that she wanted to cry.
“For God’s sake, stop that,” he growled. “You’d appeal to some men, I suppose. You just don’t appeal to me.”
Was that conscience, she wondered numbly? If it was, it didn’t console her much.
“I’ll get down on my knees and give thanks for that small blessing,” she said coldly.
“You’re the one with the small blessings, all right,” he murmured wickedly.
She half turned in the seat to glare at him, and he chuckled at her fury.
“God, you’re something when you get mad,” he said with rare mischief. “All dark eyes and wild hair and teeth and claws. It sure as hell beats that so-elegant coolness you wear around you most of the time.”
She regained her composure with an effort and stared at him calmly. “My mother raised me to be a lady,” she told him.
“You’re that,” he agreed coldly. “But you’d be a hell of a lot more exciting if she’d raised you to be a woman, instead.”
There was no reply to a blatant remark like that, so she turned her attention back to the darkened landscape and ignored him. Which seemed to be exactly what he wanted.
Chapter Three
Aggie Lopez, Jude’s housekeeper, met them in her dressing gown, yawning.
“Is Bess’s room ready?” Jude asked curtly.
“Yes, Señor Langston,” Aggie said agreeably, giving Bess a brief but thorough appraisal. Then she grinned. “You need some feeding up, señorita. A few weeks of refritos and enchiladas and my good Texas chili will put meat on those bones, I promise you. Come, I will take you up to your room and then I’ll bring you some food. The little one has only just gone to sleep. She was so excited…!”
“But it’s after midnight,” Bess exclaimed.
“Go ahead,” Jude growled, glaring at her with piercing green eyes, “say something about her bedtime hour. You’ve managed to disapprove of every other damned thing, why not that as well?”
She glared back at him, her chin lifted. “Children need their rest just like adults do,” she threw at him. “And speaking of rest, look at you!”
“What’s wrong with me?” he asked pugnaciously.
“Oh, Lord, just give me a full day with no interruptions and I’ll be glad to give you an itemized list!”
Aggie was staring at them with her jaw in a slightly drooping posture, her small, plump figure glued to the banister of the long staircase that ran up to the second story.
Jude glanced at Aggie. “Well, what the hell are you gaping at? Are you going to show her upstairs or not?”
“You are…really getting married?” the older woman asked, lifting her eyebrows until they almost touched the salt-and-pepper hair that was drawn into a tight bun.
“It’s a love match, too,” Bess assured her with a tight smile at Jude. “He loves my stocks and I love his daughter.”
Jude said something rude under his breath and turned on his heel to stomp off into his study. He slammed the door with hurricane force behind him.
Aggie flinched. “Someday he will break all the windows,” she said, sighing. “Ay, ay, life is so exciting since I came to work here.” She eyed Bess. “It is none of my affair, you understand, but you are not the picture of a happy bride.”
“I don’t want to be a bride,” she muttered. “He’s trying to make me.”
“As I thought,” Aggie said. She shook her head. “I will not ask why you do not refuse him. Six months I have worked for Mr. Langston. In that time, I have never known him not to get his own way. Have you known him long, señorita?”
“I’ve known him most of my life,” Bess grumbled as she followed the older woman up the staircase.
“Then I do not need to tell you anything about him,” Aggie said quietly. She glanced at Bess as she stopped in front of the room where Bess always stayed when she visited the ranch. “He said that you have lost your mother. I am very sorry.”
Tears welled up in Bess’s eyes and her lower lip trembled precariously. “Yes.”
Impulsively, Aggie put an arm around her. “Señorita, grief passes. I, too, lost my mother many years ago. I do not forget the hurt, but time is kind.”
Bess nodded jerkily and tried to smile.
“Here, now. Katy insisted on redecorating the room when she heard you were coming.” Aggie led Bess into the spacious room, which boasted a new bedspread and matching curtains of cream with beige and blue flowers, a deep blue carpet and elegant wallpaper. There were fresh flowers, mums, in a vase on the chest of drawers.
“It’s beautiful!” Bess burst out.
“Oh, I hoped you’d like it!” came a joyous voice from the connecting door across the room.
Bess’s eyes lit up. “Katy!” she exclaimed, and held out her arms.
Katy ran into them, laughing. She was the image of her father—pale green eyes framed by black hair and a stubborn square jaw. She was going to be tall, too. She already came up almost to Bess’s shoulders.
“You smell nice,” Katy remarked as she drew back to look at the older woman. “Like flowers. You always smell so good, Bess!”
“I’m glad you think so,” Bess said with a grin.
“How’s school?”
Katy made a face. “I hate math and English grammar. But band is great. I play the flute! And I like chorus pretty well, and art class is neat.”
“I’d love to hear you play,” Bess said. She ruffled the short dark hair. “You’re the nicest welcome I’ve had so far.”
“Been at it with Dad again, huh?” Katy murmured with a wicked smile. “I heard,” she confessed.
Bess colored delicately. “We, uh, had a slight disagreement.”
“They
