here!”
Jake’s hopes faltered. If only he’d had time to think this through better...
Dolly paled. “Buck?” she asked, her voice almost a whisper. “Buck McDeere?”
“Yes!” Cecilia said. “What other Buck is there?”
Jake began to worry when Dolly swayed, high color returning to her cheeks in a sudden rush. The woman looked drunk herself! Tears appeared in her eyes, and her mouth twisted in an attempt to hold back a cry.
“Mrs. Hudspeth?” he said, concerned, grasping her arm more firmly.
She shook her head mutely, lifting her hand to her mouth. The tears she’d been attempting so valiantly to hold back gushed forth. Without a word, she pivoted on her slippers and ran from the room.
Jake looked after the woman in silence, wondering what on earth had happened.
Sputtering, Cecilia finally extricated herself and flew off the bed in a rage. “You planned that!” she accused sharply.
Jake crossed his arms and faced her squarely. “And you sent that man to try to get me drunk.”
Her jaw dropped open, then popped closed. “You can’t prove anything.”
For his money, she might as well have admitted her guilt outright. Jake smiled. “All right,” he said. “We neither of us have behaved very well tonight. I think we should call a truce.”
She pressed her lips together and glared at him stubbornly. “Truce, my foot! My best friend is terribly upset, my reputation is on shaky ground, and I’ll probably be sent home because of this.”
To Jake, her words were like a balm.
“And as for you,” she continued, “what do you have to complain about? You aren’t even tipsy!”
Jake nodded toward Buck’s sleeping form and shrugged. “Your friend was rather transparent in his designs.”
Cecilia crossed her arms. “I should have known I needed to handle this problem myself.”
“I don’t think getting loaded up on hooch at Grady’s would have done your reputation any good, either.”
“Very funny,” she said with a scowl.
Now that he had the upper hand, Jake was much more relaxed. Cecilia Summertree had learned her lesson; the woman would probably stop deviling him. Which led to another happy thought—they would no longer be adversaries, after all.
He took in her pretty, pouting mouth, the lips a luscious pink from where she had worried them with her teeth. Her arms were crossed over her chest. Although her nightgown came up to her neck and was perfectly proper, its snowy white folds, and the womanly curves they covered, were as inviting as a warm bed on a cold night.
Jake swallowed hard as he looked into her blue eyes. She appeared likewise mesmerized, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but no longer from anger. He reached out, and she stepped back.
“You’re wrong, you know,” he said, taking another step forward.
“About what?” Her voice came out in a wary, squeaky whisper.
“I do have something to complain about.” He continued toward her, and she continued backing up until she backed right into a table.
“Wh-what?”
“No bed.” He nodded lazily in the direction of Buck, never taking his eyes off her. “Where am I supposed to sleep?”
A little shiver tremored through Cecilia. She’d gone too far this time. Why hadn’t she left as soon as she’d untangled herself from Buck? Innocuous words like bed and sleep sounded woefully intimate when you were alone with a man in his room. His dark room. Especially when your only champion was out cold.
Looking into his eyes had been the big mistake. She glanced at him, and then remembered that troublesome dream. Nightmare, she corrected. She’d remembered those smoldering eyes, and then that kiss, and...and then he’d started prowling toward her like a prairie wolf stalking a rabbit.
She was trapped, she thought, reaching back to steady herself. Her hands bumped against something hard and smooth. The washbasin! Heart beating rapidly, she felt around and found what she was looking for.
Jake smiled. Cecilia looked
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