Night Fever. Diana Palmer
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Название: Night Fever
Автор: Diana Palmer
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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“I defended myself,” he argued.
She fingered her foam coffee cup. “So did I. I’ll bet you’re scary in court.”
“Some people think so.” He gathered up the remains of his lunch. “We have to go. I don’t want to rush like this, but I’ve only got half an hour to get back to court.”
“Sorry!” She got up at once. “I didn’t realize we’d been here so long.”
“Neither did I,” he confessed. He stood aside to let her precede him to the trash can and then out of the building. It was warming up, but still a cold day, and she pulled her jacket closer.
His eyes fastened on it. It was worn and probably three or four years old. Her dress wasn’t new, either, and her black high heels were scuffed. It disturbed him to see how little she had. And yet she was so cheerful usually—except when her brother was mentioned. He’d known women with wealth who were critical of everything and everyone, but Becky had practically nothing and she seemed to love life and people.
“You’ve perked up,” he commented as they drove back to the office building.
“Everybody has problems,” she replied easily. “I handle mine fairly well most days. They’re no worse than anyone else’s,” she added with a smile. “Mostly I enjoy life, Mr. Kilpatrick.”
“Rourke,” he corrected. He glanced at her and smiled. “It’s Irish.”
“No!” she said with mock surprise.
“What did you expect I’d be named? George Standing Rock, or Henry Marble Cheek, or some such outlandish thing?”
She covered her face with her hands. “Oh, my gosh,” she groaned.
“Actually, my mother’s name was Irene Tally,” he said. “Her father was Irish and her mother was Cherokee. So I’m only one-quarter, not one-half Cherokee. All the same,” he said, “I’m pretty damned proud of my ancestry.”
“Mack keeps trying to get Granddad to say he’s got Indian blood,” she mused. “His class is studying Cherokee Indians this semester, and he’s gung-ho to learn how to use that blowgun they hunted with. Did you know that the Cherokee were the only southeastern tribe to hunt with a blowgun?”
“Yes, I knew. I am Cherokee,” he pointed out.
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