Wyoming Rugged. Diana Palmer

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Wyoming Rugged - Diana Palmer Wyoming Men

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little girl ran into the dining room, where the adults were finishing dessert.

      “Poor thing,” Niki said under her breath. “Even if he thinks it, he shouldn’t have told her.”

      “She’s a nice child,” he said, getting to his feet. He looked down at Niki. “You’re a nice child, yourself.”

      She made a face at him. “Thanks. I think.”

      His dark eyes held an expression she’d never seen before. They fell to her waistline and jerked back up. He turned away. “Any more coffee going? I’m sure mine’s cold.”

      “Edna will have made a new pot by now,” she said. His attitude disconcerted her. Why had he looked at her that way? Her eyes followed him as he strode back into the dining room, towering over most of the other men. The little girl smiled up at him, and he ruffled her hair.

      He wanted children. She could see it. But apparently his wife didn’t. What a waste, she thought. What a wife he had. She felt sorry for him. He’d said when he was engaged that he was crazy about Elise. Why didn’t she care enough to come when he was ill?

      “It’s not my business,” she told herself firmly.

      It wasn’t. But she felt very sorry for him just the same. If he’d married her, they’d have a houseful of children. She’d take care of him and love him and nurse him when he was sick... She pulled herself up short. He was a married man. She shouldn’t be thinking such things.

      * * *

      SHE’D BOUGHT PRESENTS online for her father and Edna and Blair. She was careful to get Blair something impersonal. She didn’t want his wife to think she was chasing him or anything. She picked out a tie tac, a fleur de lis made of solid gold. She couldn’t understand why she’d chosen such a thing. He had Greek ancestry, as far as she knew, not French. It had been an impulse.

      Her father had gone to answer the phone, a call from a business associate who wanted to wish him happy holidays, leaving Blair and Niki alone in the living room by the tree. She felt like an idiot for making the purchase.

      Now Blair was opening the gift, and she ground her teeth together when he took the lid off the box and stared at it with wide, stunned eyes.

      “I’m sorry,” she began self-consciously. “The sales slip is in there,” she added. “You can exchange it if...”

      He looked at her. His expression stopped her tirade midsentence. “My mother was French,” he said quietly. “How did you know?”

      She faltered. She couldn’t manage words. “I didn’t. It was an impulse.”

      His big fingers smoothed over the tie tac. “In fact, I had one just like it that she bought me when I graduated from college.” He swallowed. Hard. “Thanks.”

      “You’re very welcome.”

      His dark eyes pinned hers. “Open yours now.”

      She fumbled with the small box he’d had hidden in his suitcase until this morning. She tore off the ribbons and opened it. Inside was the most beautiful brooch she’d ever seen. It was a golden orchid on an ivory background. The orchid was purple with a yellow center, made of delicate amethyst and topaz and gold.

      She looked at him with wide, soft eyes. “It’s so beautiful...”

      He smiled with real affection. “It reminded me of you, when I saw it in the jewelry store,” he lied, because he’d had it commissioned by a noted jewelry craftsman, just for her. “Little hothouse orchid,” he teased.

      She flushed. She took the delicate brooch out of its box and pinned it to the bodice of her black velvet dress. “I’ve never had anything so lovely,” she faltered. “Thank you.”

      He stood up and drew her close to him. “Thank you, Niki.” He bent and started to brush her mouth with his, but forced himself to deflect the kiss to her soft cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

      She felt the embrace to the nails of her toes. He smelled of expensive cologne and soap, and the feel of that powerful body so close to hers made her vibrate inside. She was flustered by the contact, and uneasy because he was married.

      She laughed, moving away. “I’ll wear it to church every Sunday,” she promised without really looking at him.

      He cleared his throat. The contact had affected him, too. “I’ll wear mine to board meetings, for a lucky charm,” he teased gently. “To ward off hostile takeovers.”

      “I promise it will do the job,” she replied, and grinned.

      Her father came back to the living room, and the sudden, tense silence was broken. Conversation turned to politics and the weather, and Niki joined in with forced cheerfulness.

      But she couldn’t stop touching the orchid brooch she’d pinned to her dress.

      * * *

      TIME PASSED. BLAIR’S VISITS to the ranch had slowed until they were almost nonexistent. Her father said Blair was trying to make his marriage work. Niki thought, privately, that it would take a miracle to turn fun-loving Elise into a housewife. But she forced herself not to dwell on it. Blair was married. Period. She did try to go out more with her friends, but never on a blind date again. The experience with Harvey had affected her more than she’d realized.

      Graduation day came all too soon. Niki had enjoyed college. The daily commute was a grind, especially in the harsh winter, but thanks to Tex, who could drive in snow and ice, it was never a problem. Her grade point average was good enough for a magna cum laude award. And she’d already purchased her class ring months before.

      “Is Blair coming with Elise, do you think?” Niki asked her father as they parted inside the auditorium just before the graduation ceremony.

      He looked uncomfortable. “I don’t think so,” he said. “They’ve had some sort of blowup,” he added. “Blair’s butler, Jameson, called me last night. He said Blair locked himself in his study and won’t come out.”

      “Oh, dear,” Niki said, worried. “Can’t he find a key and get in?”

      “I’ll suggest that,” he promised. He forced a smile. “Go graduate. You’ve worked hard for this.”

      She smiled. “Yes, I have. Now all I have to do is decide if I want to go on to graduate school or get a job.”

      “A job?” he scoffed. “As if you’ll ever need to work.”

      “You’re rich,” she pointed out. “I’m not.”

      “You’re rich, too,” he argued. He bent and kissed her cheek, a little uncomfortably. He wasn’t a demonstrative man. “I’m so proud of you, honey.”

      “Thanks, Daddy!”

      “Don’t forget to turn the tassel to the other side when the president hands you your diploma.”

      “I won’t forget.”

      * * *

      THE

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