Rage of Passion. Diana Palmer
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Название: Rage of Passion

Автор: Diana Palmer

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Вестерны

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СКАЧАТЬ smiled back. “You're pretty special yourself.” She glanced toward the big white clapboard house with its graceful long porches and green shutters. It had a faintly colonial look about it, but without the huge columns. There were wicker chairs all over, a big porch swing, and flowers blooming in wild profusion everywhere. It was spectacular.

      “It's about the same size as your own, isn't it?” Janet laughed. “My father built it with no particular style in mind. It often draws comment for that.”

      “It's lovely,” Maggie sighed. She glanced toward the long wire fences, frowning. “I expected white fences,” she murmured.

      Her companion laughed. “Gabriel is tight with a dollar,” she teased. “There are hundreds of acres of land here, and fencing is expensive. Especially electric fences, which are all he uses these days. He cuts costs wherever he can. Actually,” she added, “it's a full-time job just keeping track of cattle and keeping rustlers out. We only keep purebreds here, and when a bull can bring as much as half a million dollars, you can understand why Gabriel is so careful about security. He has a man full-time to do nothing but maintain security here.”

      “Good heavens,” Maggie exclaimed. “People still rustle cattle?”

      “Yes, they do. They come in big trucks. It's been modernized along with cattle ranching, but rustling is still a problem.”

      “I wouldn't have guessed,” Maggie said as Janet pulled up to the steps and stopped. She barely noticed Janet's sudden stiffening or the disturbed look in her eyes; she was too busy watching the man who was approaching the stopped car.

      He was tall. Lithe and lean, he walked with an arrogance that immediately put Maggie's back up. He was dressed like a working cowboy, but he moved like no other man she'd ever seen. He was graceful, from the top of his wide-brimmed tan hat to the toes of his worn, warped boots. His dusty leather batwing chaps were flying with the sharp movements of long, powerfully muscled legs, and what she could see of his darkly tanned face under his hat wasn't at all welcoming.

      He paused beside the car, and Janet rushed out with an exclamation of pleasure to hug him with the enthusiasm and warmth that seemed so much a part of her. But he drew back sharply.

      “For God's sake, stop that!” he bit off, grimacing. He held his side and caught his breath with a hot curse. “I've been bitten by a rattlesnake. The arm's still swollen, and it'll be days before I can get back to work. I don't need it broken!”

      Janet flushed, looking flustered and taken aback. “I'm sorry, dear…”

      “I can't ride a horse, can't bounce around in the damned trucks, I can't even fly the plane!” He glared at Janet as if it were all her fault. “Landers is even having to drive me around. I've been sicker than an overfed dog.”

      “I…I'm sorry. You do look pale,” Janet said uneasily. “It must be painful.”

      “I'll live.” He looked past Janet to the younger woman, and his chin lifted, his eyes narrowing. He scowled thoughtfully as Maggie stepped from the car, and she saw his eyes under the shadowy brim of the hat.

      She was tempted to turn around and run. It was that kind of look. There was nothing welcoming in his lean, sharp-featured countenance. He had a crook in the middle of his nose, as if somebody had broken it. His black eyebrows were as shaggy and thick as the hair on his head, and his protruding brow shadowed eyes as light as candles, as penetrating as only blue eyes could be. His high cheekbones ran down to a firm, hard-looking mouth over a stubborn chin. He wasn't a handsome man, although his face had character and his body was as sensuously powerful as that of a movie star. The fabric of her dreams—in the flesh. But it was no surprise to Maggie that he was thirty-eight and unmarried. It would take a strong woman, a fiery woman, for a man like that. She felt cold chills at the thought of what he might expect of a woman in intimacy.

      The feeling must have been mutual, because the look he was giving her spoke volumes. She could imagine how citified she must seem to him, in her lacy white blouse and white slacks, with dainty strapped sandals. She should have worn jeans, she thought belatedly, as she'd planned to in the beginning. Why had she dressed up so? She needed this vacation so badly, and here she'd gone and antagonized him at first glance.

      “Gabe, you remember Mary's daughter, Maggie Turner, don't you?” Janet asked.

      Maggie stared up at him, watching the fleeting lift of his eyebrows. He looked at her with cold disinterest. “I remember her.”

      “It's nice to…see you again,” she faltered.

      He nodded, but he didn't return the greeting. He dismissed her without a second thought and turned back to his mother impatiently as a truck with the ranch logo purred to a stop nearby. “I won't be gone long, but I'm expecting an important call from Cheyenne. If it comes through while I'm gone, have the party call back at five.”

      “Certainly, dear,” Janet agreed. “I'm sorry if I've…we've come at a bad time…”

      “Don't you always, Mother?” he asked with a cold smile. “Isn't Europe more your style than dust and cattle?”

      “I came to see you,” the older woman said with quiet pride.

      “I'll be back directly.” He turned without another glance and walked to the truck, grimacing despite his iron control as he climbed inside the cab and managed to close the door, waving away the cowboy who offered to help him. They drove off in a cloud of dust.

      Janet sighed half-angrily. “I'll never understand him,” she said under her breath. “I didn't raise him without manners. I'm sorry, Maggie.”

      “There's no need to apologize,” Maggie said quietly. “I gather that he's in some pain.”

      “And irritable at having to stay at home when there's work to be done. Roundup is a bad time for everyone. Besides that,” she said miserably, “he doesn't like it when I come here. I have to confess that I needed you as much as you needed the rest. I don't like having to cope by myself. But truly, you'll enjoy it. He won't be around much,” she added with a hopeful look. “Just until his arm will let him go back to work. Knowing my son,” she added bitterly, “it shouldn't take more than a couple of days. Nothing keeps him down for long. He'll convince the doctor that strapping it will accomplish miracles.”

      “He isn't the most welcoming man,” Maggie murmured.

      “He'll be gone before you know it. Now come on and let's get settled in,” Janet said firmly. “This is my home, too—even if I'm not allowed to visit it very often!”

      Maggie didn't reply. She wasn't sure that she'd done the right thing in coming. Gabriel was stone-cold hateful, and time hadn't improved his old dislike of her. She knew instinctively that if his mother hadn't been around, he'd have packed her right back to San Antonio. It wasn't the brightest beginning.

      She spent the next two hours reacquainting herself with the big house and getting to know the new cook and housekeeper, whose name was Jennie. She was small and dark and gay, and Maggie liked her immediately.

      She settled in, changing her white outfit for jeans and a yellow blouse. She brushed her short hair toward her face and hoped that her appearance wouldn't antagonize the cattleman any further when she went down to have supper with the family.

      Gabriel was already at the table, looking furious and glaring at her the minute she walked into the spacious, elegant dining room. СКАЧАТЬ