bragged about her?
“Your daddy was one of the finest hands I ever hired.” Remembrance flared in those blue eyes that were the Temple legacy. “I've known the Creightons since forever, and could probably tell you a few stories that would make your head spin.”
“I'd enjoy visiting with you sometime.” Cassie's knees almost buckled with relief. She liked this crusty old gentleman and would have hated for him to think badly of her.
“Come see me if you ever have a hole in your schedule, and we'll talk. Your grandparents were pioneers in west Texas. I owe my entire operation in Coyote Bend to their hard work and dedication.” The affairs of his mind finally in order, Mr. Temple excused himself with a courtly bow. A uniformed nurse led him away to greet the other guests. The disembodied voice of the rodeo announcer encouraged everyone to grab a seat for the upcoming competition.
“Television doesn't begin to do your talent justice, Cassie. You're very good.” A strange smile turned up the corners of Hoyt's mouth. “I could have laid some important groundwork for you if you'd let me in on your secret ambitions a little sooner.”
“I had enough on my mind without having to worry about singing you to sleep, too.” She cut him off curtly and pivoted to walk away. She might be poor white trash, but she had enough pride not to want her nose rubbed in the past. Hoyt grabbed her arm before she could take two steps and forced her to accompany him along a gravel path toward the shade trees.
“Let go of me,” she hissed furiously, but kept her face composed so as to avoid creating an embarrassing scene. “You're wrinkling my shirt.”
“I'll buy you a new one.” His lean jaw was set and his expression warned her not to argue with him.
“I'd rather wear rags,” she snapped.
“How often do you get away with passing off this bitchy side of your personality as artistic temperament?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“You seem to be the only one who inspires it in me, Hoyt,” she cooed, but her voice was edged with sarcasm. “Now, let me go. I've got arrangements to study and the guys will be looking for me.” She tried to ignore the trip-hammer beat of her heart. He tightened his grip on her arm when she continued to struggle. “What are you trying to prove— that you're physically stronger than me? Why don't you go find your polished blonde leech and bully her around like this? She looks like the type who'd get a kick out of a little rough treatment now and then.”
“Are you jealous, Cassie?” Hoyt's mouth slanted in ironic amusement at the thought
“Jealous!” Cassie almost choked on the word. “You should be so lucky. If that's all you want, you're welcome to it.” She tried again to pull her arm away, but failed. “You know, Hoyt, you really ought to consider lining up all your women in the middle of the arena and running a barrel race around them. It would certainly be a fitting testimonial to your steer-sized ego.”
“Shut up and keep moving,” he said in a quiet voice. “I want to talk to you and we don't have much time.”
“We said everything we had to say in Coyote Bend, Hoyt.”
“Not quite.” He stopped abruptly and spun her around to face him. “Are you under contract to Allen Ingram?”
“Sort of. Why?” Cassie rubbed her upper arm, perplexed by the change of topic.
“'What about those scruffy characters in your band? Are you involved with any of them?” The question was casual, but she had the distinct impression that he was daring her to admit a liaison with Scrappy or Mike or Jess.
“What is this— kiss and tell?” she demanded hotly.
“I don't play games, darling. You know me better than that.” His gaze slid up and down her body and she caught the double meaning behind his words. “A simple yes or no will suffice. It could be important to you professionally.”
“First you insult my band, and now you're nosing around in my affairs like they're of some
“Your daddy was one of the finest hands I ever hired.” Remembrance flared in those blue eyes that were the Temple legacy. “I've known the Creightons since forever, and could probably tell you a few stories that would make your head spin.”
“I'd enjoy visiting with you sometime.” Cassie's knees almost buckled with relief. She liked this crusty old gentleman and would have hated for him to think badly of her.
“Come see me if you ever have a hole in your schedule, and we'll talk. Your grandparents were pioneers in west Texas. I owe my entire operation in Coyote Bend to their hard work and dedication.” The affairs of his mind finally in order, Mr. Temple excused himself with a courtly bow. A uniformed nurse led him away to greet the other guests. The disembodied voice of the rodeo announcer encouraged everyone to grab a seat for the upcoming competition.
“Television doesn't begin to do your talent justice, Cassie. You're very good.” A strange smile turned up the corners of Hoyt's mouth. “I could have laid some important groundwork for you if you'd let me in on your secret ambitions a little sooner.”
“I had enough on my mind without having to worry about singing you to sleep, too.” She cut him off curtly and pivoted to walk away. She might be poor white trash, but she had enough pride not to want her nose rubbed in the past. Hoyt grabbed her arm before she could take two steps and forced her to accompany him along a gravel path toward the shade trees.
“Let go of me,” she hissed furiously, but kept her face composed so as to avoid creating an embarrassing scene. “You're wrinkling my shirt.”
“I'll buy you a new one.” His lean jaw was set and his expression warned her not to argue with him.
“I'd rather wear rags,” she snapped.
“How often do you get away with passing off this bitchy side of your personality as artistic temperament?” He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“You seem to be the only one who inspires it in me, Hoyt,” she cooed, but her voice was edged with sarcasm. “Now, let me go. I've got arrangements to study and the guys will be looking for me.” She tried to ignore the trip-hammer beat of her heart. He tightened his grip on her arm when she continued to struggle. “What are you trying to prove— that you're physically stronger than me? Why don't you go find your polished blonde leech and bully her around like this? She looks like the type who'd get a kick out of a little rough treatment now and then.”
“Are you jealous, Cassie?” Hoyt's mouth slanted in ironic amusement at the thought
“Jealous!” Cassie almost choked on the word. “You should be so lucky. If that's all you want, you're welcome to it.” She tried again to pull her arm away, but failed. “You know, Hoyt, you really ought to consider lining up all your women in the middle of the arena and running a barrel race around them. It would certainly be a fitting testimonial to your steer-sized ego.”
“Shut up and keep moving,” he said in a quiet voice. “I want to talk to you and we don't have much time.”
“We said everything we had to say in Coyote Bend, Hoyt.”
“Not quite.” He stopped abruptly and spun her around to face him. “Are you under contract to Allen Ingram?”
“Sort of. Why?” Cassie rubbed her upper arm, perplexed by the change of topic.
“'What about those scruffy characters in your band? Are you involved with any of them?” The question was casual, but she had the distinct impression that he was daring her to admit a liaison with Scrappy or Mike or Jess.
“What is this— kiss and tell?” she demanded hotly.
“I don't play games, darling. You know me better than that.” His gaze slid up and down her body and she caught the double meaning behind his words. “A simple yes or no will suffice. It could be important to you professionally.”
“First you insult my band, and now you're nosing around in my affairs like they're of some
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