Faron.
“Yes, ma’am. Soon as I finish my pie.”
Belinda served him a piece and set another in front of Madelyn. When she started to leave Faron asked, “Aren’t you going to have some, too?”
“I’m not very hungry right now.” She kept her lids lowered so Faron wouldn’t find out the truth. She wanted to get away now, while she could still think rationally. She didn’t want to see him being nice to his grandmother. She didn’t want to see him being charming. She wanted to remember who he was and who she was and why any relationship between them other than the legal one resulting from her marriage to Faron’s father was a mistake.
“I’m a little tired. I thought I’d go to bed early tonight,” she said.
She was unprepared when Faron left the table and crossed to her. He stood facing her and said in a voice too low to carry back to Madelyn, “Are you all right?”
She felt breathless again. “Yes. I’m fine. Just a little tired.”
He put a hand on her shoulder, and she felt the pressure of it deep in the pit of her belly.
“I made some calls while you were having lunch and hired some men to do the heavy labor. There’s no reason for you to leave the house tomorrow.”
Her eyes flashed up to meet his concerned gaze. “I’ll do my part,” she said.
“You don’t—”
“I don’t want any favors from you. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
Belinda jerked herself away and marched toward the spiral staircase. She felt Faron’s eyes on her the entire way up to the second floor. When she reached her room, she closed the door behind her and leaned against it.
She felt like crying. Why hadn’t she met Faron Whitelaw eight years ago? It was too late now for what might have been. And what made her think things would be any different with Faron? She had learned her lessons from Wayne. Things had been fine with him, too, at first. It was only later…
But Wayne Prescott had never made her feel the things Faron Whitelaw made her feel. Belinda was frightened. And excited. She felt a sort of anticipation for the days to come that she knew was dangerous for her peace of mind. Worst of all was the knowledge that she desired Faron Whitelaw every bit as much as he seemed to desire her.
She had to resist temptation. She had to make herself a regal, unapproachable Princess. Maybe that would keep the Cowboy at bay.
Belinda lifted her chin and focused her eyes on the distant canopy bed with its delicate eyelet covers. It was a bed eminently fit for a princess who had resigned herself to life in an inaccessible, remote ivory tower.
She crossed the room and sat down on the bed with her back stiff and her teeth clenched to still a quivering chin. She had survived a lot over the past eight years. By God, she would survive this, as well.
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