taste of his own medicine.”
“Yes, sir.” She kissed him back, lightly, and got out of the car. “Do I look disheveled enough?”
“You look delicious,” he said wistfully. “Oh, well, I’ll go back to my cinders and ashes.”
“Have you ever thought about having a glass boot made?” she asked. “You could give a party, and drop it….”
“I am leaving,” he returned with mock indignation.
“A few white mice and a pumpkin might be a good idea, too,” she added as he put the car in gear.
“I’ll show you white mice and pumpkins, just wait,” he threatened. He held up his hand. “Call you tomorrow.”
“Good night. Thanks for inviting me, I enjoyed it.”
“Me, too, honey. Bye!”
She watched him drive away, feeling wistful. He was such a nice man. It was too bad her heart belonged to that freckled redhead waiting in her house.
She turned, purse in hand, and went inside. Her father and Keegan were sitting in the living room, apparently just talking. Keegan was still wearing workclothes, and he looked as if he’d been out with his horses. He liked to work with the trainer occasionally, and in his younger days he’d participated in show jumping and polo. He was an expert rider.
“Hello, dear, how was the party?” Barnett asked, smiling as his daughter came into the room.
“Just lovely,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “I love Wade’s mother and sister. They’re so sweet.”
Keegan cocked his unruly red head at her. “You do mean Gladys the gladiator and Sandra the snake?” he asked.
“Shame on you for calling them names,” she chided. “They’re terrific people.”
Keegan leaned back against the seat. “Wade must have threatened to write his life story,” he murmured. His deep blue eyes traveled over her slender body in the becoming white-and-purple dress. “I like that,” he remarked. “The style is very becoming.”
“Wade thought so, too,” she said with a demure smile. “I’ll get changed and start dinner, Dad.” She glanced at Keegan. “Are you staying?”
“Are you inviting me?” he countered, his voice velvety and deep.
“You’re the boss,” she reminded him, watching his expression change. “I can hardly order you out of a house you own, can I?”
“Eleanor,” Barnett groaned.
“Will you stop that?” Keegan growled.
“Okay. You’re welcome to stay for dinner, Keegan, dear,” she said with a faint smile. “I do hope you like broccoli and liver, because that’s what I’m fixing.”
“Darling, you know Keegan hates broccoli and liver,” Barnett protested.
“I’m reforming,” Keegan said through clenched teeth. “I love liver and broccoli.”
Eleanor went down the hall to her room with revenge in her heart and a smile on her lips.
She changed into worn jeans and a loose patterned blouse that had seen better days. She didn’t bother to brush her hair or fix her makeup, and she left her shoes off. That would show Keegan Taber that she didn’t care what he thought of her appearance.
Bypassing the living room where the men were talking, she went straight to the kitchen and busied herself with getting the meal together. Odd, she thought, how much time Keegan seemed to be spending here lately. Whatever did he and her father find to talk about?
It only took about half an hour to get dinner ready. Eleanor called the men and poured tall glasses of iced tea for the three of them.
Keegan was quiet at the table, very reserved. But his blue eyes followed Eleanor as she moved around the kitchen between courses, pouring more tea, bringing dessert, moving serving dishes to the sink. His intent scrutiny began to wear on her nerves after a while, and she was glad when it was over and the men returned to the living room to play chess.
She washed the dishes, then slipped on an old pair of loafers to go walking behind the house. Their small yard overlooked the vast acreage of the farm, and from the wooden fence under the oak trees out back,
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