Rage of Passion. Diana Palmer

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СКАЧАТЬ whose mother was obviously kicking him under the table.

      “Do join us, dear,” Janet said with a glare toward her taciturn son.

      “I'm sorry if I've held you up,” Maggie said gently, seating herself on the other side of Janet for protection with a wary, green-eyed glance at Gabe that seemed to amuse him.

      “Dinner is promptly at six,” he returned with a lifted eyebrow. “I don't like being held up, in case you've forgotten.” She started to speak, but he cut her off with a lifted hand, ignoring his mother's seething irritation to add mockingly, “I don't bite, Miss Turner,” his voice deep and faintly amused.

      “Could I have that in writing, please?” she asked with a nervous laugh. She smiled at Janet. “The air smells so fresh and clean out here. No exhaust fumes!”

      “That's right, city girl,” Gabe replied. He leaned back carefully, favoring his right side, with his coffee cup in his lean hand. He wasn't even neatly dressed or particularly cleaned up. He was still wearing his work clothes, except that his dusty shirt was open halfway down his tanned chest, where a wedge of thick black hair arrowed toward his wide leather belt. That disturbed Maggie, just as it had in her teens, and she looked down at her plate, fiddling with putting the napkin in her lap.

      “I would have cleaned up,” he said unexpectedly, a bite in his slow drawl as he obviously mistook her expression for distaste, “but I'd just come in from the holding pens when I went to the doctor, and I'm a bit tired.”

      Her eyes came up quickly, with an apology in them. “Mr. Coleman, this is your home,” she said gently. “I wouldn't be so rude as to criticize how you dress.”

      He stared at her calculatingly for a long moment—so long that she dropped her gaze again to her plate. Finally, he reached for the platter of beef and helped himself, to his mother's obvious relief.

      “How did you get bitten, darling?” Janet asked him.

      “I reached for a rope without looking.”

      Janet gnawed her lip. “It must be painful. You won't be able to work for a few days, I guess.”

      He gave her a cold stare. “I'm managing. If I felt a little stronger, I could ride. It's just the swelling and the pain, that's all. I won't be stuck here for long, I hope.”

      Janet started to make a comment, but she forced herself to remain silent. It did no good to argue with him.

      He glanced from her to Maggie as he buttered a huge fluffy biscuit. “What are you doing these days?” he asked curiously.

      “Me? I'm working at a bookstore,” Maggie told him. She glanced up and down again, hating the surge of heat to her face. He had the most incredible effect on her, even after the anguish of her marriage.

      “Working, did you say?” His light eyes lifted and probed hers like a microscope. “Your people were wealthy.”

      “Times change,” she said quietly. “I'm not wealthy now. I'm just a working girl.”

      “Have some peas, dear.” Janet tried to interrupt.

      He put the biscuit down and cocked his head, studying her with narrowed eyes. “It shows,” he said absently. “You don't look like the spunky little kid who used to play with my sisters. What's happened to you?”

      Maggie felt herself going cold. He was watching her, like a cat watching a mouse. She felt vulnerable and a little afraid of that single-mindedness. Once, she would have taken exception to his blunt challenge. But there had been so many fights, so much struggle. Her spirit was carefully buried—had to be, for Becky's sake.

      She laid down her fork and stared at him. “I've grown up,” she replied, her voice soft.

      His level gaze sized her up. “You had money. And now you don't. Then what brings you here, Miss Turner? Are you looking for a vacation or a man to support you?”

      “Gabriel!” Janet slammed her napkin down. “How dare you!”

      Maggie clasped her hands tightly under the table and stared at him with a courage she didn't really feel. “Your mother offered me a visit, Mr. Coleman,” she said dully. “I needed to get away for a little while, that's all. You'll have to excuse me for being so dim, but I didn't realize that I needed your permission as well as Janet's. If you want me to leave…?” She started to rise.

      “Oh, for God's sake, sit down,” he snapped. His eyes cut into hers. “The last thing I need is a Texas society girl out here at roundup, but if Mother wants you, you're welcome. Just keep to the house,” he warned softly, his eyes emphasizing the threat. “And out of my way.”

      He tossed his own napkin down, ignoring his mother's furious glare.

      “I won't get in your way,” Maggie said, her voice, her whole manner vulnerable.

      Gabriel's pale eyes narrowed as he bent his dark head to light a cigarette, watching her the whole time. “Won't you? What a difference,” he added as he took a draw from the cigarette. “The girl I remember was like a young filly, all long legs and excitement and blushing fascination. How you've changed, Maggie Turner.”

      The comment surprised her. She looked up, feeling hot all over as his eyes searched hers. “You haven't,” she blurted out. “You're just as blunt and rude and overbearing as you ever were.”

      He actually grinned. “Just as mean-tempered, too, honey. So look out,” he added as he got to his feet. He groaned a little with the movement and murmured a curse under his breath.

      “Can I get you anything?” Janet asked, frowning.

      He spared her a cool glance. “Nothing, thank you,” he replied formally. He nodded at the women, the brief and unexpected humor gone as he turned and went out the door.

      “I'm sorry,” Janet told Maggie. “It's roundup, you know. He gets so ill-tempered, and he doesn't really like women very much.”

      “He doesn't like me very much, you mean,” Maggie said quietly, staring at the tablecloth. “He never did.” She smiled wistfully. “Do you know, I once had the most terrible crush on him. He never found out, thank goodness, and I outgrew it. But I used to think he was the whole world.”

      “And now?” Janet queried gently.

      Maggie bit her lower lip and laughed, the sound soft and nervous. “Now, I think I'm a little afraid of him. I'm not sure that coming here was a good idea.”

      “Oh, yes, it was,” Janet said. “I'm certain that it will work out. You'll see. I've got it all planned.”

      Maggie didn't ask what “it” was, but the man listening outside the door had a face that would have stopped traffic. He'd read an entirely different meaning into Janet's innocent remark, and he was livid with anger. So his mother was matchmaking again. This time she'd picked a woman he knew, although she couldn't know what he'd thought of Maggie Turner. His eyes narrowed. Well, this time his mother had gone too far. And if little Maggie thought she was going to lead him down the aisle, she had a surprise coming. A big one!

      He went out the door, his eyes cold with calculation, his steps so soft that no one heard him leave.

      Janet СКАЧАТЬ