Diana Palmer - Wyoming Rugged

“What are you thinking so hard about?” he wondered aloud.

“That an artist would love painting you,” she blurted out, and then flushed then cleared her throat. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

He lifted both eyebrows. “Miss Ashton,” he scoffed, “you aren’t by any chance flirting with me, are you?”

“Mr. Coleman, the thought never crossed my mind!”

“Don’t obsess over me,” he said firmly, but his eyes were still twinkling. “I’m a married man.”

She sighed. “Yes, thank goodness.”

His eyebrows lifted in a silent question.

“Well, if you weren’t married, I’d probably disgrace myself. Imagine, trying to ravish a sick man in bed because I’m obsessing over the way he looks without a shirt!”

He burst out laughing. “Go away, you bad girl.”

Her own eyes twinkled. “I’ll banish myself to the kitchen and make lovely things for you to eat.”

“I’ll look forward to that.”

She smiled and left him.

He looked after her with conflicting emotions. He had a wife. Sadly, one who was a disappointment in almost every way; a cold woman who took and took without a thought of giving anything back. He’d married her thinking she was the image of his mother. Elise had seemed very different while they were dating. But the minute the ring was on her finger, she was off on her travels, spending more and more of his money, linking up with old friends whom she paid to travel with her. She was never home. In fact, she made a point of avoiding her husband as much as possible.

This really was the last straw, though, ignoring him when he was ill. It had cut him to the quick to have Todd and Niki see the emptiness of their relationship. He wasn’t that sick. It was the principle of the thing. Well, he had some thinking to do when he left the Ashtons, didn’t he?

* * *

CHRISTMAS DAY WAS BOISTEROUS. Niki and Edna and three other women took turns putting food on the table for an unending succession of people who worked for the Ashtons. Most were cowboys, but several were executives from Todd’s oil corporation.

Niki liked them all, but she was especially fond of their children. She dreamed of having a child of her own one day. She spent hours in department stores, ogling the baby things.

She got down on the carpet with the children around the Christmas tree, oohing and aahing over the presents as they opened them. One little girl who was six years old got a Barbie doll with a holiday theme. The child cried when she opened the gaily wrapped package.

“Lisa, what’s wrong, baby?” Niki cooed, drawing her into her lap.

“Daddy never buys me dolls, and I love dolls so much, Niki,” she whispered. “Thank you!” She kissed Niki and held on tight.

“You should tell him that you like dolls, sweetheart,” Niki said, hugging her close.

“I did. He bought me a big yellow truck.”

“A what?”

“A truck, Niki,” the child said with a very grown-up sigh. “He wanted a little boy. He said so.”

Niki looked as indignant as she felt. But she forced herself to smile at the child. “I think little girls are very sweet,” she said softly, brushing back the pretty dark hair.

“So do I,” Blair said, kneeling down beside them. He smiled at the child, too. “I wish I had a little girl.”

“You do? Honest?” Lisa asked, wide-eyed.

“Honest.”

She got up from Niki’s lap and hugged the big man. “You’re nice.”

He hugged her back. It surprised him, how much he wanted a child. He drew back, the smile still on his face. “So are you, precious.”

“I’m going to show Mama my doll,” she said. “Thanks, Niki!”

“You’re very welcome.”

The little girl ran into the dining room, where the adults were finishing dessert.

“Poor thing,” Niki said under her breath. “Even if he thinks it, he shouldn’t have told her.”

“She’s a nice child,” he said, getting to his feet. He looked down at Niki. “You’re a nice child, yourself.”

She made a face at him. “Thanks. I think.”

His dark eyes held an expression she’d never seen before. They fell to her waistline and jerked back up. He turned away. “Any more coffee going? I’m sure mine’s cold.”

“Edna will have made a new pot by now,” she said. His attitude disconcerted her. Why had he looked at her that way? Her eyes followed him as he strode back into the dining room, towering over most of the other men. The little girl smiled up at him, and he ruffled her hair.

He wanted children. She could see it. But apparently his wife didn’t. What a waste, she thought. What a wife he had. She felt sorry for him. He’d said when he was engaged that he was crazy about Elise. Why didn’t she care enough to come when he was ill?

“It’s not my business,” she told herself firmly.

It wasn’t. But she felt very sorry for him just the same. If he’d married her , they’d have a houseful of children. She’d take care of him and love him and nurse him when he was sick... She pulled herself up short. He was a married man. She shouldn’t be thinking such things.

* * *

SHE’D BOUGHT PRESENTS online for her father and Edna and Blair. She was careful to get Blair something impersonal. She didn’t want his wife to think she was chasing him or anything. She picked out a tie tac, a fleur de lis made of solid gold. She couldn’t understand why she’d chosen such a thing. He had Greek ancestry, as far as she knew, not French. It had been an impulse.

Her father had gone to answer the phone, a call from a business associate who wanted to wish him happy holidays, leaving Blair and Niki alone in the living room by the tree. She felt like an idiot for making the purchase.

Now Blair was opening the gift, and she ground her teeth together when he took the lid off the box and stared at it with wide, stunned eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she began self-consciously. “The sales slip is in there,” she added. “You can exchange it if...”

He looked at her. His expression stopped her tirade midsentence. “My mother was French,” he said quietly. “How did you know?”

She faltered. She couldn’t manage words. “I didn’t. It was an impulse.”

His big fingers smoothed over the tie tac. “In fact, I had one just like it that she bought me when I graduated from college.” He swallowed. Hard. “Thanks.”

“You’re very welcome.”

His dark eyes pinned hers. “Open yours now.”

She fumbled with the small box he’d had hidden in his suitcase until this morning. She tore off the ribbons and opened it. Inside was the most beautiful brooch she’d ever seen. It was a golden orchid on an ivory background. The orchid was purple with a yellow center, made of delicate amethyst and topaz and gold.

She looked at him with wide, soft eyes. “It’s so beautiful...”

He smiled with real affection. “It reminded me of you, when I saw it in the jewelry store,” he lied, because he’d had it commissioned by a noted jewelry craftsman, just for her. “Little hothouse orchid,” he teased.

She flushed. She took the delicate brooch out of its box and pinned it to the bodice of her black velvet dress. “I’ve never had anything so lovely,” she faltered. “Thank you.”

He stood up and drew her close to him. “Thank you, Niki.” He bent and started to brush her mouth with his, but forced himself to deflect the kiss to her soft cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

She felt the embrace to the nails of her toes. He smelled of expensive cologne and soap, and the feel of that powerful body so close to hers made her vibrate inside. She was flustered by the contact, and uneasy because he was married.

She laughed, moving away. “I’ll wear it to church every Sunday,” she promised without really looking at him.