'No, you're not. I won't be run out of my own home. Do you understand me? No one is going to chase me off of my land.'
Too late, he realized he'd upset her. Her voice had taken on a shrill quality, and when he looked at her, he saw the tears brimming in her eyes. He quickly tried to calm her.
'You can do what you want,' he lied. 'As long as it's eight weeks from now.'
'You can't possibly stay here that long. I assure you
I'll be fully recovered sooner than that and Parker will be much stronger. We'll be just fine. We'll miss you, of course.' Desperately so, she silently added.
He didn't know what compelled him to do it, but he leaned down and kissed her forehead. 'You seem to be having trouble grasping numbers, sugar. I'm not leaving for eight weeks. Want me to tell you how many days that is?'
She knew he was teasing her but didn't have the faintest idea how to respond. Her husband had always been terribly serious about everything. He never flirted, nor did she, yet she knew Douglas was now doing just that. She decided to get away from him for a few minutes. She couldn't seem to think when he was so close.
'It's your decision,' she said, 'I won't be plagued by guilt, and if you don't mind staying, I… I mean to say, we… I have a baby, you know, and we'll be happy to have you around.' She knew she was stammering her explanation. She'd also lied to him. She wouldn't be happy if he stayed. She would be ecstatic.
'Why don't you take your nap now?'
He was saying something to her, but she couldn't make herself pay any attention. She was trying to figure out how such a ruggedly handsome man had managed to remain unattached so long. He had to be close to thirty if her guess was right. Perhaps he wasn't unattached after all. There could be a beautiful young lady patiently waiting for his return. Yes, that was it. She was probably very refined and elegant too, and Isabel imagined she had gold- colored hair that wasn't at all unruly with curls.
'Why did you kiss me?' she blurted out.
'I felt like it. Did you mind?'
'No… I didn't mind.'
She told herself to snap out of her stupor. It was high time she faced a few important facts. She wasn't a naive young lady with hopes and dreams and yearnings to be loved. She was a widow with a baby who depended on her. She couldn't and wouldn't change her past. She had been blessed to have a dear friend for a companion, and now she had his beautiful son.
Still, there wasn't any harm in daydreaming about a future she could never have, was there? Wasn't it natural to wonder what it would feel like to be loved by a man like Douglas? Thinking about it seemed like a natural curiosity on her part. That was all. He was so strong and hard and sensual, and she'd never known anyone quite like him. Why, even though she was a new mother and didn't physically want him, she couldn't help but notice the erotic, earthy aura about him. Besides, there wasn't anything wrong with appreciating the wonderful differences between them, and, Lord, he was masculine all right.
He'd be a demanding lover, and he wouldn't stop until she had…
Good Lord, what was she doing? She forced the outrageous fantasy out of her mind.
'I believe I'll rest for a little while.' He looked as if he was amused by her remark.
'Sounds good to me,' he teased.
She turned, stumbled over something littering the floor, and yet hurried on. He followed her.
'Axe you feeling all right?' he asked.
'Yes.'
'You seem a little preoccupied.'
'I need a nap, Douglas. I'm a brand-new mother and I must rest.'
He leaned against the doorframe and refused to budge when she tried to shut the door.
'I would like some privacy so that I can change my clothes. I'll give you your belt back later.'
'It's on the floor in the other room with the towels you used to look pregnant.'
She didn't believe him until she put her hand on her waist. Good Lord, when had they fallen, and why hadn't she noticed?
'Want to tell me what you were thinking about a minute ago?' She could feel herself blushing. 'This and that.'
'Is that what you call it?' he asked.
'The horses,' she blurted out at the very same time. 'Minerva and Pegasus. Yes, the Arabian stallion is Pegasus and his mate is Minerva. Didn't I tell you their names already?'
'Just Pegasus.'
She really wished he would go away for a little while. The way he was looking at her was making her feel self-conscious and as awkward as a little girl. 'What have you been calling my Arabians?'
'This and that.'
He slowly brushed the back of his fingers down her cheek. 'I think you should know something. I'm real partial to women with freckles. Yours drive me wild.' He leaned down and kissed her on the mouth quick and hard. 'By the way,' he whispered, 'I'm having some real wild thoughts about you too.'
He stunned the breath out of her, and he knew it. That was why he winked at her before he turned around and walked away. She stared after him until he disappeared into the kitchen; then she shut the door and fell back against it. Dear God, he'd known all the while what she was thinking about, and she was never, ever going to be able to look at him again.
She was mortified. She must have given herself away, but how in heaven's name had she done that? She didn't know, and she wasn't going to ask him. She wasn't going to have another scandalous thought about him for the rest of her life. In fact, she wouldn't think about him at all.
She threw herself down on the bed and groaned. She fell asleep a few minutes later with her feet hanging over the side of the bed, her shoes and stockings on, and one thought flitting through her mind. He liked freckles.
Chapter Seven
He also liked games. He asked her during supper if she happened to have a deck of cards, which she did, and then he suggested they play poker.
'Have you ever played five card stud?'
'Oh, yes. I'm good too.'
The challenge was issued. They played five hands before Parker demanded to be fed. It was past time for her to go to bed anyway, because she was looking as though she was about to doze off any minute.
At her insistence, he added up their scores and told her the amount she owed him.
She stood up, yawned, and said, 'I'll pay you back with my earnings tomorrow night when we play chess.'
He laughed. 'Are you good at chess too?'
'Wait and see.'
Chess was his game. The following evening, he proved it to her by destroying her in a matter of minutes. He decided she obviously hadn't played a lot of checkers after he'd won five games in a row. By the end of the week, she owed him over a thousand dollars.
Douglas changed the rules from then on. He told her he had a much better idea. Instead of money, the winner could ask any question he or she wanted. No matter how personal the topic, an answer was required.
Suddenly, her skills improved. She won three games before he caught on to her ploy.
'You were deliberately letting me win, weren't you?'
'Some men like to win.'
'Most men like to win fairly. From now on, we both play to win. Agreed?'
'Yes,' she replied. 'We should probably start all over. I let you win last night too.'
He tore up the sheet of paper with the totals before handing the deck of cards to her. She shuffled the cards
