Page 43 of Just Imagine
Kit rose in hot defense. “She’s not crazy!”
“You could have fooled me.”
“She’s just a little . . . different.”
“More than a little.” Cain regarded her suspiciously. “Just how did she get the idea that I was General Lee?”
“I . . . might have inadvertently mentioned something.”
“You told her I was General Lee?”
“No, of course not. She was afraid to meet you, and I was trying to tease her into a better mood. I had no idea she’d take me seriously.” Kit explained what had happened when she went to Miss Dolly’s room.
“And now you expect me to go along with this charade?”
“It won’t be hard,” Kit pointed out reasonably. “She does most of the talking.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“It’ll have to be.” She hated pleading with him, and the words nearly stuck in her throat. “Please. She doesn’t have anyplace else to go.”
“Damn it, Kit! I don’t want her here.”
“You don’t want me here, either, but you’re letting me stay. What difference does one more person make?”
“A big difference.” His expression turned calculating. “You want a lot from me, but I haven’t heard you offer anything in return.”
“I’ll exercise your horses,” she said quickly.
“I was thinking of something more personal.”
She swallowed. “I’ll mend your clothes.”
“You were more imaginative three years ago. Of course, you weren’t as . . . experienced then as you are now. Do you remember the night you offered to be my mistress?”
She slid the tip of her tongue over her dry lips. “I was desperate.”
“How desperate are you now?”
“This discussion is highly improper,” she managed to reply with all the starch of Elvira Templeton.
“Not as improper as that kiss this afternoon.” He came closer, and his voice was low, slightly husky. For a moment she thought he was going to kiss her again. Instead, his lips curled into a smile full of mockery. “Miss Dolly can stay for now. I’ll make up my mind later how you can repay me.”
As he left the room, she stared at the door and tried to decide whether she’d won or lost.
That night, Cain lay motionless in the dark, one arm crooked behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. What kind of game had he been playing with her this evening? Or was she the one playing the game?
Her kiss this afternoon had made it clear she was no innocent, but was she as wanton as Woodward’s letter would have him believe? He didn’t know. For now, he would simply have to wait and watch.
In his mind he saw a wild-rose mouth with bruised, petal-soft lips, and desire rushed through him, hot and thick.
One thing he knew for certain. The time when he could regard her as a child was gone forever.
9
Kit was up early the next morning despite her restless night. She pulled on khaki britches that would have scandalized Elsbeth, then shrugged into a boy’s shirt and drew it closed over her lace-edged chemise. She regretted the shirt’s long sleeves, but her arms would be brown as a butternut if she left them exposed to the sun. She consoled herself that the white material was as thin and fine as the fabric of her undergarments and would undoubtedly be cool.
She tucked her shirttails into her britches and fastened the short row of buttons snugly over the front. As she drew on her boots, she enjoyed the way the soft brown leather molded to her feet and calves. They were the first pair of good riding boots she’d ever owned, and she couldn’t wait to try them out.
