face was unreadable, his mouth thinned in an unsmiling, non-committal line, his blue eyes thoughtful and wrinkled at the corners.
‘I’ll come straight to the point. I have no argument with your abilities as a bookkeeper. Edith’s accounting methods aren’t based on any recognised systems, but, judging from what I’ve seen of your efforts so far, you aren’t having any difficulty interpreting them.’
Alessandra shrugged. ‘I never expected to, once I became accustomed to her handwriting.’
‘I was also more than impressed by the ability you showed with the cattle today…’
‘Pewter is a very well drilled horse. Thank you for not giving me a dud. I’d have really had to pull out more effort then!’
Bart didn’t crack even the hint of a smile at her pseudomodesty. Boy! Was his liver twisted about something? she thought.
‘I never use a marked deck,’ Bart told her coldly. ‘Which is why I wanted to see you.’
Alessandra gave an exaggerated groan and rolled her eyes. ‘This sounds serious.’
‘I’m surprised you can recognise the fact,’ he said drily. ‘You seem to treat everything as one huge joke. You have a smart answer for everything.’
‘I work at it. Counteracts the dumb-blonde image that being cursed with this colour hair sadly attracts!’ she replied cheekily.
Bart was silent for several minutes. She knew he was doing it to prove a point, so she didn’t satisfy him by commenting. Heck, she could cheerfully sit here all night looking at him! He apparently wasn’t so keen on a duel of silence and surrendered first.
‘I have agreed to let you work with Jim. You certainly seem capable enough and he has no objections at the moment. Today’s Tuesday, on Thursday you’ll be required to do the wages, so that gives you tomorrow and Friday to prove your worth as a cowhand. You’ll answer only to Jim and take orders only from him or, naturally, myself. I’ll have him give me a report on your progress on Saturday. Is that understood?’
Cripes! she thought; he was certainly playing the role of cattle baron to the hilt.
‘Sure. That sounds fair enough. Is that all?’
Bart looked uncomfortable and began fidgeting with a pen on the desk before decisively putting it aside and folding his arms across his chest.
‘No. There are two more things I want to get clear between us.’
The butterflies in her stomach turned into 747s at the hard tone in his voice.
‘Firstly, while I’m grateful for the help and friendship you are providing to Lisa, I would appreciate it if you could refrain from swearing and using some of your more…shall we say “colourful” expressions in her presence. I won’t tolerate it from my men and I see no reason why I should allow you to be the exception simply because you’re female. Obviously you have adopted this sort of language as a result of your less than ladylike lifestyle. I realise breaking the habit is going to be difficult for you, but I insist you make the effort.’
Alessandra amazed herself just by managing to sit still, let alone keep her mouth shut! Swear? God, could she really give him an earful now! The gall of the man to assume he knew anything but the sketchiest outline of her background! Ooohhh! What she wouldn’t like to do with the paperweight sitting on his desk!
‘Fine.’ She spoke through clenched teeth. ‘You mentioned two other points. The second is…?’
Bart cleared his throat. He’d been prepared to let that remain unsaid, since her obviously smouldering reaction to his last words made the idea seem ridiculous. Not only that, he wasn’t sure whether there was any real justification for what he intended to say. After all, it was he who had instigated the only physical sexual by-play between them.
Given her irreverent, teasing way of speaking, her remark about him ‘tasting great’ was probably nothing more than a throw-away line and not intended as the provocative encouragement he’d imagined.
‘Well?’ she prodded.
‘Look, if I’m out of line here…’ He stopped and swallowed hard. ‘The truth is, I hope you didn’t take that kiss earlier today the wrong way.’
‘The wrong way?’ she queried with a deliberately vague inflexion in her voice. Boy, was she going to make him squirm!
‘Yes…you know, as if I was coming on to you or something. Because I wasn’t.’
‘Look, if you’re worried about me screaming sexual harassment…’
‘Eh…no. I’m not concerned about that…Look, what I’m trying to say is it won’t happen again. Our relationship is strictly a business one.’
‘Forget it; I have!’ Alessandra said, standing and giving an overly bright smile. ‘On my scale of one to ten it barely rated a one point five…’
‘A one point five…’
‘And that was only for the element of surprise! Was there anything else?’ she asked, still smiling like a store mannequin.
Bart shook his head.
‘Righto, then. I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight…boss.’
She forced herself to walk calmly from the room, gently closing the door behind her, while mentally she was describing Bart Cameron with every expletive she had ever heard and in the language of every country she had ever lived in.
Strictly business! Strictly business! Oooohh! She was so angry! With him, with herself, with just about everything!
She punched her pillow. It was typical, of course! She had a lot of luck, it was just all bad! It was over seven years since she’d been interested-—really interested—in a man, and it had to be one who found her about as appealing as a case of the measles. Not only that, he’d all but said that he found her coarse and foul-mouthed. Sure, she tended to use the odd colourful adjective from time to time, but nothing which would cause even a raised eyebrow from a fellow Australian, and she had never used that word! Well…maybe once or twice…but never aloud.
As for the kiss, even though it had been the stuff of sky-rockets and rainbows, why make such a big deal out of it? She closed her eyes and willed sleep to claim her. Ha! Her head was filled with images of a thin-mouthed cowboy with eyes the colour of faded denim.
She rolled on to her side and stared out at the bright, full moon, trying to rationalise just what attracted her to Bart Cameron. He certainly wasn’t the drop-deadhandsome type that caused women to swoon as they passed him in the street, although his body would invite a second look. She had to admit she found him sexy, yet in all honesty she couldn’t put her finger on why. Perhaps it was simply her body protesting the last seven years of celibacy. She smiled in the darkness. The effects of sexual withdrawal? Not likely! While she’d surrendered her virginity at eighteen, she’d never been one to indulge in physical relationships simply for the sake of it. Two lovers in ten years wasn’t exactly life in the fast lane.
Yet she knew that she’d find no hardship in
