Diana Palmer - Rough Diamonds - Wyoming Tough / Diamond in the Rough

Mallory let out a short laugh as he sipped coffee. “I don’t have an attitude.”

“Oh, yes, you do,” the housekeeper shot back.

He shrugged. “Maybe I do.” He glanced at Morie and his eyes narrowed. “You take your cell phone with you, and if Clark gets out of hand, you call. Got that?”

“Oh…okay.” It was like being back at home. He sounded just like her dad did when she’d dated a boy he didn’t know in high school. “He wanted to take me to the movies on Saturday, but I’m supposed to be watching calving… .”

“I’ll get one of the part-timers to come in and cover for you. This time,” he added curtly. “Don’t expect concessions. We can’t afford them.”

She flushed. “Yes, sir. Thanks.”

“She’s over twenty-one, boss,” Mavie said drily.

“She works for me,” he replied. “I’m responsible for every hire I’ve got. Some more than others.” He looked pointedly at Morie, and he didn’t look away.

It was like being caught by a live wire when she met that searching stare. Her heart kicked into high gear. Her breath caught in her throat. She felt the intensity of the look right down to her toes. She’d never felt such a surge of pleasure in her whole life.

Mallory appeared to forcibly drag his eyes away. He sipped coffee. “Well, you can go, but you be careful. I still think he’s a risk. But it’s your life.”

“Yes, it is,” she replied. Her throat felt tight, and she was flushed. She got to her feet. “Thanks for the coffee,” she told the housekeeper. “It’s time for me to get to work.”

“Don’t fall in the dipping pool,” Mallory said with a straight face, but his dark eyes twinkled in a way that was new and exciting.

“Yes, sir, boss,” she replied. She smiled and turned to move quickly out of the room before she embarrassed herself by staring at him. She wondered how she was going to conceal the sudden new delight she got from looking at her boss.

SHE HAD A NICE PAIR OF SLACKS and a pink-and-lime embroidered sweater. She wore those for her date, and let her long hair down. She brushed it until it shone. It was thick and black and beautiful, like her mother’s. When she looked in the mirror, she saw many traces of her mother in her own face. She wasn’t beautiful, but she wasn’t plain, either. She had the same elfin features that had taken Shelby Kane Brannt to such fame in her modeling days. And Morie’s grandmother, Maria Kane, had been a motion-picture star, quite famous for her acting ability. Morie hadn’t inherited that trait. Her one taste of theater in college had convinced her that she was never meant for the stage.

She had a lightweight denim coat, and she wore that over her sweater, because it was cold outside. The weather was fluctuating madly. Typical Wyoming weather, she thought amusedly. The Texas climate was like that, too.

She heard a car drive up to the bunkhouse. She whipped her fanny pack into place and went out to meet Clark. He was sitting behind the wheel of the sports car, grinning.

She noted that he didn’t get out to open her door. He leaned across and threw it open for her.

She climbed in. “Hi.”

“Hi, back. Ready for a nice movie?”

“You bet.”

He put the car in gear and roared out down the driveway.

“Don’t do that,” she groaned. “We have heifers calving in the barn!”

“Oops, sorry, didn’t think,” he said, but he didn’t look concerned. “They’ll get over it. Nice night. They said it might snow, but I don’t believe the forecast. They’re mostly wrong.”

She was thinking about the nervous heifers being kept up because it was their first breeding season, and wondering how much flak she was going to get from her boss if anything happened because of Clark’s thoughtlessness.

“Stop worrying,” he teased. “It’s just cows, for heaven’s sake.”

Just cows. She loved to stop and pet them when she was in the barn. She loved their big eyes and big noses, and the soft fur between their eyes. They were so gentle. And these little heifers, even if they were animals, must be so scared. She’d always had a terror of childbirth, for reasons she could never quite understand. It was one of many reasons that she was hesitant to marry at all.

“Do you know that Elizabeth the First never married and never had a child?” she remarked.

He made a face. “History. I hate that. Let’s talk about who’s leading the pack in American Idol!”

She gaped at him. She didn’t watch television very much. “I watch the Weather Channel, the military channel and the science channels mostly,” she remarked. “I’ve never watched any of those audience-participation shows.”

“I can see that we’re never going to meet in the middle on issues,” he remarked. “Doesn’t matter. You’re cute and I like you. We can go from there.”

Could they? She wondered.

THE MOVIE WAS FUN. It was clever and funny and both of them came out of the theater smiling.

“Now let’s have some nice Chinese food,” he said. “You hungry?”

“Starved. But we’re going Dutch,” she added firmly. “I bought my own movie ticket…I’ll pay for my food, too.”

His eyebrows arched. “I wouldn’t expect you to owe me anything if I bought dinner.”

She smiled. “Just the same, I like everything on an equal footing.”

“You’re a strange girl,” he commented thoughtfully.

“Strange?” She shrugged. “I suppose I am.”

“Let’s eat.”

He led the way into the restaurant and they followed the waitress to a table in a corner.

“This is beautiful,” Morie remarked, loving the Asian decor, which featured nice copies of ancient statues and some wood carvings that were very expensive. Morie, who’d traveled Asia, appreciated the culture depicted. She’d loved the people she met in her travels.

“Junk,” he told her casually. “Nothing valuable in here.”

“I meant that it was pretty,” she clarified.

“Oh.” He glanced around. “I guess so. A little gaudy for my taste.”

She was about to respond when her eye caught movement at the door. There, at the counter, was her boss, Mallory Kirk, with Gelly Bruner. He spoke to the waitress and let her seat them nearby.

He smiled coolly and nodded at Morie and Clark. She was thinking that it was an odd coincidence, having him show up here. Certainly he wouldn’t have had any reason to be spying on her… .

“Do you believe this?” Clark asked, shocked. “Does he do this every time you go out with a man? I’ve heard of possessive employers, but this takes the cake.”

“He takes his date all over the place,” she replied, trying to sound casual. “This is the only really good restaurant in town.”

“I suppose so.”

“He wouldn’t have any reason to keep an eye on me,” she pointed out. “I’m just the hired help.”

He pursed his lips and studied her. “Sure.”

MALLORY WAS LOOKING AT HER, too, his dark eyes on the long wealth of thick black hair that hung straight and shiny down her back almost to her waist.

“Why are you staring at her?” Gelly asked coldly. “She’s just a common person. She works for you. And why are we here? You know I hate Chinese food!”

He didn’t hear her. He was thinking that he’d never seen anything as beautiful as that long black hair. It brought to mind a poem. She’d probably be familiar with it, too—Bess, the landlord’s black-eyed daughter, plaiting a dark red love knot into her long, black hair. “The Highwayman” by Alfred Noyes. It was a tragic poem, the heroine sacrificing herself for the hero. “‘I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way…’”

“What?” Gelly asked blankly.