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Open Invitation?

Page 19

by Karen Kendall


  “Wait. At least let me fix my makeup.”

  “You are such a girl. I love that about you.”

  LIL’S KNEES knocked together with every inexorable step to the ballroom. She so did not want to go in there.

  She considered making a break for it and trying to drown herself in the champagne fountain. But Dan would simply pull her out by her pearls and then make her go in dripping wet.

  Speaking of her pearls, perhaps she could take a flying leap and hang herself by them from one of the chandeliers. No—they would break, and Nana Lisbeth would haunt her forever for trying to use her inheritance in pursuit of suicide.

  Her last option was to whip off a shoe and use the spike heel to commit hara kiri right there in the foyer. But she was sure that among the distinguished guests there was a doctor in the house. She’d only be resuscitated in the end.

  They got closer and closer to the door.

  Dan squeezed her hand and shot her a reassuring glance. “It’s gonna be fine, honey.”

  They walked through the doors and down the shallow steps into the ballroom, only to have all conversation cease while people stared openly at them. The blood drained from Lil’s face as even the orchestra stopped.

  At a look from Claire they began to play again immediately, and Dan swung Lil out onto the dance floor, supporting her entire weight because her legs had turned to rubber.

  The buzz and hum of conversation started again around the room, but Lil had gone too far down the path of humiliation to feel relief. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Claire cross the room to speak to the orchestra. What fresh hell now?

  Suddenly the musicians segued into an infectious Texas Two-Step, and Dan’s chuckle rumbled in her ear as he moved them into it with gusto. She’d never done it in her life, but it was easy to follow his lead.

  Taking their cue from Claire, all of the guests began to clap in time with the music. Bewildered, Lil could only stare at them, these crazy English.

  From a back corner of the room, Louella hauled Lovely Nigel onto the dance floor and proceeded to teach him the Two-Step, too. To Lil’s surprise, Dan’s mother had flair, and she could move her hips like nobody’s business.

  Lil started to laugh; she couldn’t help it. Dan grinned down at her while Roddy, Claire and several other adventurous couples took to the floor with them and carefully copied their movements.

  The formal ball was degenerating—or maybe improving—into a Texas hoedown.

  Lil found the strength in her legs again and enjoyed it, the feel of Dan’s arm around her waist and his hand in hers; the easy rhythm of the dance and the love shining down from his eyes. There was something else there, too…and she realized it was a mixture of pride and respect.

  All she’d done was follow him across a threshold and step onto a dance floor. But she had really impressed him along the way.

  The song began to wind down, and Dan squeezed the last few steps from the music before dipping her against his arm. Then he brought her back up and kissed her deeply in front of all the English, who surprised them again by breaking into huge applause.

  21

  THE STEEPLECHASE was to be held in the countryside about an hour from London, at the house of a cousin of Lovely Nigel’s.

  Roddy was overheard to say that he thought it ridiculous to be transporting all the wedding guests out there when the poor sods simply wanted to nurse their hangovers from the night before, but Louella had had her heart set on it for months, so off they all went.

  The guests who rode would join in the chase, and those who didn’t would mingle over mimosas and bloody Marys until everyone returned for brunch.

  Lil awoke early, in her yellow and lilac bedroom, to Dan’s tongue in her ear. She smiled and turned in his arms. “Mmm. There’s nothing more wonderful than waking up with the man you love.”

  Dan kissed her nose and then wrinkled his. “I don’t want to wake up with any man, whether I love him or not.”

  She shoved him playfully in the chest. “You know what I mean.”

  “Yeah. Speaking of waking up next to you, we should talk. Because the last time I checked, Connecticut wasn’t too close to Texas on the map.”

  She ran her finger along his stubbly jaw. “No, it’s not. And I’m not sure what to do about that.”

  “Can I make a suggestion?”

  Lil nodded.

  “I have a program in the works. Starting next summer, I’ll have anywhere from twenty to forty at-risk urban boys coming out to spend time at my place. They’ll take some classes, they’ll do some chores, and have some fun. They’ll learn what it takes to run a working ranch.”

  “That’s wonderful, Dan. Why? How did this come about?”

  “It came about because I remember being a fourteen-year-old kid whose mother had taken off, a kid with a bad attitude and a penchant for trouble. I can relate to these boys. I can try to head them away from trouble and set them on a better course.”

  She kissed him. “You’re such an amazing, generous person.”

  He snorted. “Nah. I’m just gonna be a guy with a lot of headaches. I’m not under any illusions that I won’t be pulling these kids out of scrapes, you know? But what I wanted to talk to you about is this—most of them are coming from tough backgrounds and they have no idea how to conduct themselves off the basketball court or the football field.

  “If they’re ever going to have a chance to go to college or into the business world, they need to know how to behave and how to dress. And how to treat a lady.”

  “I’d love to,” she said.

  “You would? Really?”

  “Yes. I can’t think of a better use of my time.”

  “I’m not askin’ you to leave Connecticut for good. I could spend time up there with you, too. I was kinda thinkin’ that the summer and fall is nicer up there, and the winter and spring are nicer in Texas.”

  “Oh, you were, were you?” She laughed. “How are you going to run a ranch in Amarillo from Farmington, Connecticut?”

  “I haven’t figured that part out, yet. But my dad is there, and so are my cousins. How are you going to be Miss Connecticut Etiquette in Texas?”

  She kissed him. “Why, I’ll just be in charge of expanding Finesse’s southwestern division, that’s all.”

  “Think you can get used to cow patties?”

  “For you,” she said, running a hand over his chest, “I can get used to anything. As long as you take me to the opera in Dallas every once in a while.”

  “Opera?” Dan’s head shot up from where he’d been nuzzling her breast. “That wasn’t part of the bargain! I hate that fruity cat-strangling.”

  “Opera for cow patties. I think it’s a fair trade, don’t you?”

  He groaned. “Okay, okay.” He went back to her breasts and all was quiet except for her quickened breathing and occasional sound of pleasure. Then he raised his head again.

  “Lil? Do you even own a pair of jeans?”

  “Yes, believe it or not I have several pairs.”

  “Boots?”

  “Yes, but they’re Prada.”

  “Who?”

  “Never mind.”

  “We’ll get you some real boots.”

  “Do I have to wear a belt like yours, too?”

  “If you really hate it that much, we’ll get you a concho belt.”

  “Deal.”

  All conversation ended at that point, because Dan went south from her breasts and words just didn’t seem so important any longer.

  Nana Lisbeth would not have approved of her granddaughter having relations with a man while she was a guest under someone else’s roof.

  Nana wouldn’t approve of her having unmarried relations at all. Lisbeth London had done her very best to teach Lil what was right.

  Good thing this felt so very, very right.

  Standing in the shower with Dan half an hour later, Lil soaped his back, not to mention other things and felt that she’d finally joined her own generation. S
he’d put down her tea and had tequila. She’d ditched her panty hose and worn a thong. And she’d discovered that she liked her sex hot, spicy and often!

  She would always love her grandmother. But she needed to live her own life, not Nana’s.

  “ARE YOU READY to go?” Lil knocked on Dan’s door after she’d gotten dressed.

  He opened it, clasping his watch on his wrist. “Yep.” He wore not a red jacket and riding breeches, but a pair of blue jeans and his cowboy boots.

  “Where are your clothes for the chase?”

  “You’re lookin’ at ’em.”

  “You can’t ride like that!”

  “Yes, I can. I’ve made special arrangements.” He grinned at her. “Come on, honey, let’s go show these English how it’s done.”

  She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Dan? What are you up to?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, all innocence.

  “I think your mother has a gun. You should keep that in mind.”

  He laughed. “Mama and I had a chat. You may see a change in her attitude about a lot of things.”

  LIL DIDN’T RIDE, which was something that Dan promised to remedy. So she was on the terrace with the other guests, sipping a mimosa, when the participants in the chase gathered in their red jackets on their glorious thoroughbreds.

  She was exchanging small talk with Lovely Nigel, who’d unbent enough to tell her all about cricket, when the poor man choked, pointed and bit down so hard on his cigar that he chomped right through it.

  Lil turned and was not entirely unsurprised to see the love of her life seated on a huge Appaloosa with a monumental Western saddle. He wore his jeans, a pair of leather chaps, a T-shirt, cowboy boots and a huge grin.

  Lovely Nigel sputtered and coughed while Lil tried, and failed, to hide her smile. Louella took one look and drained her bloody Mary, poking herself in the eye with the celery stalk. Then she went for another.

  “Preposterous!” exclaimed one matron, as the master of ceremonies blinked at Dan.

  “Obnoxious!” said a gentleman with bad teeth.

  “Perfect,” murmured Lil.

  The master of ceremonies seemed reluctant to allow Dan to participate. He headed toward him and they exchanged words. Then a familiar figure cantered toward them, her blond curls escaping from her black hat.

  Claire spoke with the MC and he blustered. She reasoned. He waffled. She reasoned some more. Finally the man threw his hands wide in a gesture of defeat.

  He sounded the trumpet and the steeplechase began. Dan and all the rest of them were off. Lil closed her eyes as he flew over a huge hedge, Western saddle and all, and disappeared from sight.

  If he didn’t break his neck, she was going to marry him.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-5947-2

  OPEN INVITATION?

  Copyright © 2005 by Karen Moser.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

  This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

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