Having The Cowboy's Baby. Stella Bagwell

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СКАЧАТЬ mother is dead, too?” she asked with surprise.

      Cordero nodded. “Seven years ago. Complications from diabetes. She was only fifty-six.”

      “Oh. Then you know how it feels to have a parent gone.”

      His throat grew so tight that for a moment all he could do was manage a nod. He’d been very close to his mother, far closer than his older brother, Matt, or his sister, Lucita. Which seemed strange whenever he thought about it. He was a replica of his father, who had a magic hand with a horse and had taught Cordero everything he knew about raising the animals. Cordero was also like Mingo in the fact that he loved a pretty woman’s company and considered life something to be enjoyed rather than endured. He loved and respected his father, who was thankfully alive and well today. But his mother still lived like the warm glow of a candle in his heart. And after seven years without her, he missed her. Really missed her.

      “Yeah. It’s tough,” he murmured. “Damn tough.”

      He could feel her regarding him with a thoughtful eye, but she didn’t say more about his mother. Cordero was glad. He didn’t want to dwell on that part of his past.

      Reaching across the seat, he folded his hand around hers. “Let’s not think about such sad things. I want to enjoy these next few days and I hope you’ll enjoy them with me.”

      His fingers were warm, the skin hardened with calluses. She tried not to think how they would feel sliding across her naked skin or cupping her breasts, but the images wouldn’t budge from her mind. Her whole body flushed with heat as she swallowed and turned her head toward the passenger window.

      “I’m not a fun sort of woman, Cordero. I’m afraid you’re going to end up being very bored during your stay at Cane’s Landing.”

      His fingers tightened on hers. “Maybe I can teach you how to have a little fun.”

      Anne-Marie wasn’t about to ask him what sort of fun he had in mind. The man was already putting sinful thoughts in her head. She didn’t need any more added to them. And as for having fun, she wasn’t at all sure she’d ever known how to enjoy herself as other young women seemed to do. From the time of her mother’s death, she’d viewed life as a serious journey. Even her relationship with Ian had been slowly and carefully entered into, one step at a time.

      She still hadn’t replied to his suggestive words when the footlights illuminating the turnoff to Cane’s Landing came into view. Glad for any reason to ease her hand from beneath his, she motioned toward the entrance leading off the left side of the blacktop road. “There’s our turnoff.”

      The drive up the tree-lined lane to the house took less than two minutes. Once they were out of the car, Cordero offered her his arm for the walk through the dark shadows between the garage and the house. Anne-Marie realized that touching him, for any reason, was not something she should do. But he was being a gentleman and it wasn’t his fault that her senses went haywire around him, so she curled her arm through his and rested her hand on his strong forearm.

      As they passed Cordero’s truck, Anne-Marie suggested that it might be a good time to get his bags. After he pulled out two leather duffel bags, he offered her his arm again and they made their way into the house.

      Darcella met them in the front room. The cook was a tall, big-boned woman with graying brown hair that was cut in a pixie style that framed her round face. Her wide smile seemed to deepen as she spotted Anne-Marie’s arm looped through Cordero’s. Anne-Marie knew that Darcella had been initially shocked when she’d first met the Texas rancher. Both women had expected Jules’s friend to be much closer to his age. That assumption couldn’t have been more off base.

      “How was Mr. Jules?” the cook asked. “Feeling better?”

      Anne-Marie sighed as she slipped her arm from Cordero’s and moved away from his side. “He seemed full of life,” she told the woman. “In fact, I think he looked better than he has in months.”

      “Oh. That’s good. Real good. Maybe he’ll get to come home soon.”

      “We’re all hoping that, Darcella.” Anne-Marie walked across the room and placed her handbag on a small table.

      Behind her, Darcella said, “Well, I’ve left a tray of drinks out on the back porch. I thought you two would like to unwind before I serve supper.”

      Walking back to the center of the room, Anne-Marie glanced from Darcella to Cordero then back again. She wanted to tell the cook that there was no need to make a big deal out of this supper. She didn’t want Cordero to get the impression that she was going out of her way to entertain him. But if she urged Darcella to leave, it would only look as if she wanted to be alone with the man.

      Stifling a groan, she turned to Cordero and tried to smile. “Darcella has gone to a lot of trouble to make mint juleps for us tonight.”

      “Sounds great.” He looked at the cook and gave her a conspiring wink. “Darcella, if you’re not a married woman, you need to come to the Sandbur sometime and meet our cook. Juan’s a little older than you but he’s single and he loves to dance. He makes a mean margarita, too.”

      Darcella giggled in a way that Anne-Marie had never heard before.

      “I might just do that some time, Mr. Sanchez. Especially if Anne-Marie would come with me.”

      Cordero turned a suggestive look to Anne-Marie, who quickly cleared her throat and changed the subject completely.

      “Come on,” she invited. “I’ll show you to your room. After you’ve had a chance to freshen up, we’ll go to the porch for those drinks.”

      She started toward a long, curving staircase and Cordero picked up his bags and followed. As he climbed one step behind her, he allowed his gaze to swing around the massive room below. The large area was lit with only two small lamps, but even in the semidarkness he could see the rich antique furniture typical of the antebellum period. The walls were covered with heavy paper printed with trailing vines and some sort of maroon flower. The balustrade along the staircase and the upstairs landing was made of polished cypress and smelled faintly of lemon wax. The only sound to be heard was the faint ticking of a tall, grandfather clock.

      This afternoon, when Anne-Marie had shown him into the parlor, he’d gotten the feeling that he’d stepped back in time. Now, as he followed her up through the dark quietness, that same sensation hit him again.

      Once they reached the landing, she walked to the end and pushed open a door on her right. “I hope you’ll find the room agreeable. Verbena, our maid, made sure there were fresh towels and washcloths in the bath.” She pointed to a door in the far corner of the room. “But if you need anything else, just let me know.”

      The bed was an enormous oak four-poster with a dark green duvet. On the outer wall, several feet away, were three tall windows covered with sheer beige curtains. Beyond the windowpanes, he could barely discern the shape of huge tree limbs, but nothing else.

      “You can store your things here in the dresser, if you like.” She opened one of the top drawers. “You won’t disturb anything. This is just a guest room. And it’s been ages since anyone has visited.”

      Cordero got the feeling that time here on the plantation moved at glacial speed so it would be hard to interpret what she meant by ages. He couldn’t help but wonder if her ex-lover had stayed here, perhaps even in this room. He hated to think СКАЧАТЬ