Cattleman's Choice by Diana Palmer Read Free Book Online

“Yes, isn’t it?” he agreed with a speaking glance. “And it’s amazing how many people think they’re better than other people because of what they’ve got, right, lady?”
    The lady in question turned red, got up and left.
    â€œPlease sit down,” Mandelyn pleaded with Carson.
    â€œYou sit. I’m leaving. If you’re coming with me, come on. And where the hell is the check?” he demanded of a trembling Henri. “I want it now, not when you get around to it.”
    Henri was writing it as he came, his hand shaking. “Here, monsieur!”
    Carson took it and stormed out toward the cashier, leaving Mandelyn to fend for herself. She got up quietly and walked slowly out of the dining room, her poised serenity drawing reluctant admiration. She was Miss Bush of Charleston from her head to her toes.
    But serene was the last thing she felt when she caught up with Carson in the parking lot.
    â€œYou hot-tempered, ill-mannered, overbearing son of Satan,” she began, her small fists clenched at her sides, her eyes throwing off silvery sparks, her hair glinting with blonde fire in the sunlight.
    â€œFlattery won’t work with me,” he assured her, grinning at her display of temper. “Get in, firecracker, and I’ll take you home.”
    â€œI’ve never been so embarrassed…!” she began.
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œWhy!”
    He stared at her as she stood rigidly beside the car, not opening her door. “Well, get in,” he repeated.
    â€œWhen you open the door for me,” she said icily. “Women’s lib or not, it is good manners.”
    With a resigned sigh, he went around and made an elaborate production of opening the door, helping her inside the car and closing it again.
    â€œI’ll never go anywhere with you again as long as I live,” she fumed when he’d climbed in beside her and turned the key in the ignition.
    â€œYou started it,” he reminded her as he pulled out onto the highway. “Making that crack about my ignorance…”
    â€œI did no such thing,” she shot back. “I simply asked what else you’d do. You love cattle, you always have. You’d be miserable in any other job and you know it.’
    â€œYou meant that I wasn’t capable of doing anything else,” he returned, his eyes growing fiery again.
    â€œI can’t talk to you!” she ground out. “You’re always on the defensive with me, you take everything I say the wrong way!”
    â€œI’m a savage, remember?” he asked mockingly. “What else do you expect?”
    â€œGod knows,” she said. She turned her eyes out the window to the long, arid stretch of land that stretched toward the horizon. “None of this was my idea,” she reminded him. “I don’t care if you eat peas off your knife for the rest of your life.”
    There was a long, pregnant silence. He lit a cigarette and smoked it quietly as the miles went by. Eventually, she glanced at him. His face was rigid, his eyes staring straight ahead. He looked unhappy. And she felt guilty about that, guilty about losing her temper. He wanted Patty, and without some polishing, he’d never get her. He must know that and the knowledge was eating him alive.
    â€œHow far did you get in school?” she asked suddenly.
    He took a deep, slow breath, and wouldn’t look at her. “I have a bachelor’s degree in business administration, with a minor in economics.”
    She felt shocked, and it showed.
    â€œI got my education while I was in military service, in the Marines,” he told her bluntly. “But that was a long time ago. I’ve lived hard and I’ve worked hard and I haven’t had time for socializing. I hate pretense. I hate people lying to each other and cutting at each other and pretending to be things they aren’t. Most of all,” he added hotly, “I hate places