Stella Bagwell - Having The Cowboy's Baby

“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 so. For some unexplainable reason he didn’t want to be connected to the guy in any way.

“Thanks, Anne-Marie. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

He placed his duffel bag on the end of the bed and wondered why he felt so awkward and out of place in this opulent bedroom. He was not a poor man. In fact, the Sandbur was known all over South Texas. He was used to fairly lavish surroundings and servants at his beck and call. But his home in Texas was laid-back. It invited a man to kick off his boots and prop his feet on the furniture. This place was a little stiff for his liking. Or was it the kiss he’d planted on Anne-Marie’s lips that was really bothering him? He couldn’t forget it. Even now, he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until they both ended up on the four-poster behind him. He was a man who’d always liked women, but he’d never encountered one that had taken such a hold on him in a matter of hours.

Something of what Cordero was feeling must have shown on his face because she suddenly folded her hands together and began to inch backward toward the door.

“Good,” she said. “I’ll meet you at the bottom of the landing in five minutes.”

His gaze settled on her rose-pink lips. “Yeah. Five minutes. See you then.”

With a stilted nod, she hurried out of the room. Once she’d closed the door behind her, Cordero wiped a hand over his face and wondered what in hell he’d gotten himself into.

When Anne-Marie came down from her bedroom a few minutes later, Cordero was waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase. The white-and-blue windowpane shirt he’d been wearing had been exchanged for a dark red cotton. The rich color only intensified the deep brown of his skin and made his white teeth appear that much whiter. He didn’t bother to hide the appreciation in his eyes as she descended the stairs, but Anne-Marie tried her best not to dwell on it as she joined him on the polished parquet.

“Since I don’t know which way to go, you’d better lead me,” he murmured.

Anne-Marie didn’t resist his warm hand as it wrapped around hers, but as she led him through the house, she promised herself that once their houseguest had gone back to Texas, her father was going to get a piece of her mind. Jules had made it quite clear for some time now that he wanted her to get out of the house and date young men, to put some excitement in her life, but she’d never dreamed he would take matters into his own hands and practically thrust her into Cordero Sanchez’s arms. Jules needed to learn once and for all that she was going to lead her own life and it wasn’t going to have a man in it.

The back porch ran the total width of the house and was enclosed with screen to keep the ever-present mosquitoes at bay. Comfortable lawn furniture was scattered from one end of the space to the other, along with many potted plants, some of which were covered with vivid blooms.

A wicker settee and armchairs padded with bright yellow cushions sat at the far end of the porch and it was here that Darcella had left the tray of drinks.

Anne-Marie extricated her hand from Cordero’s and took a seat on the settee. To her dismay, he dropped his long frame down next to her.

“This is nice,” he said. “Quiet. But nice.”

Leaning forward, she picked up two squatty tumblers and handed one to him. His fingers brushed against hers as he took the cool, sweaty glass and for one brief moment she wished he would reach over and take her hand again. Touching him thrilled her and reminded her that she was still a flesh-and-blood woman. Something she’d been desperately trying to forget since her downfall at Ian’s hands.

“Your home on the ranch isn’t quiet?” she asked.

He laughed and the deep gravelly sound sent shivers of pleasure rushing over her skin while inside her the need to slide away from his side fought wildly with the urge to wiggle closer.

“Uh, not too often. My brother, Matt, and his family live in the same house. They have a teenage daughter and a baby on the way. And Dad lives with us, too. Things can get rowdy when all of us are home. But the house is big and we wouldn’t know any other way, except being together.”