Wild Texas Rose by Martha Hix Read Free Book Online

for something more than casual friendship between the two of them.
    Poor Joe. Whit felt sorry for him, but more for himself. Whit Reagor might be many things, but woman-stealer wasn’t among them.
    â€œMariah, um, do you mind if I call you Mariah?” When she shook her head, he pulled the reticule from beneath his arm and reached around the cage to hand it over. “Mariah, you’d better hold on to this.”
    A sudden jolt shot through Whit as their fingers met to exchange the small yet heavy bag. As if in shock, she lifted her soft doe eyes to his face, then dropped lashes that were thick and gold-tipped. The charge he’d felt, the same one she had apparently experienced, could be attributed to the dry air, but Whit pegged it on his earlier conclusion.
    He wanted her; she wanted him. Getting to know her in the most satisfying way was impossible. What was he to do? The answer, unfortunately, was simple. Common sense urged a quick retreat, but he couldn’t ignore Mariah Rose McGuire, soon to be Mrs. Joe Jaye. After giving the Englishman his oath to see after her welfare, Whit figured it was his duty to escort her to Trick’em safe and sound; and during the trip and afterward, he vowed he’d ignore and deny his hot-blooded desires.
    But dammit, he reasoned with himself, that didn’t mean he couldn’t at least enjoy the pleasure of her company. And if her “company” included a few harmless flirtations, he’d simply enjoy them. For a while.
    How far would she go? Plenty far, he’d gamble. Whit frowned. If she went beyond proper, he intended, for poor ole Joe’s sake, to show her the wrong of her ways. He decided to test her right then.
    â€œIt’s gonna be nice having you round Trick’em. You’ll pretty up the area. Good thing for me, too, ’cause we’ll be seeing a lot of each other.”
    â€œI’ve seen more of Joseph’s neighbor than would be considered proper.”
    Whit would be drawn and quartered before backing down. “Yeah, you saw a lot of me.” He glanced down at his spread legs. “Don’t let the size of me scare you, Red.”
    â€œWhy, you crude, rude, conceited scoundrel!”
    Not denying her accuracy, he set the cage to the ground and, splinter ignored, inched closer to Mariah. The bird–Gus, wasn’t it?–protested the move. Ignoring squawks and ruffled feathers, Whit eyed her reticule. “You didn’t answer my question a minute ago,” he goaded. “Who taught you to handle a gun? I’ll bet such a pretty gal like you had a score of admirers willing to show you.”
    She shot to her feet and drilled a look of loathing into him. “You despicable snake, I oughtn’t to answer your question, but I will to shut you up. My brothers taught me to shoot.” She grabbed her reticule and cage. “This conversation has gone far enough. Thank you for bringing my belongings. Now we’re even for favors. Good day.”
    Whit watched her stomp toward the Double Inn’s rough-hewn door, her derriere twitching. Funny how a lady’s rear end could look indignant. He grinned. The smile turned sour as a young cowboy rode into view.
    â€œWhee doggies.” The cowman hauled his black gelding to a dust-stirring halt in front of Mariah, blocking her path. He whipped a battered hat from his wheat-colored hair. “Howdy there, lady. My, my, you sure are a purty filly.”
    She whirled around and, with one arm akimbo, glared at the interloper. “I’ll thank you to–”
    â€œMake tracks,” Whit interrupted, rising to his feet. “And I do mean now, Culpepper.”
    Slim Culpepper patted the air. “Sorry, Reagor. Didn’t know she was your woman.”
    â€œWell, she is. And keep that in mind.”
    The man headed his mount away.
    Mariah rounded on Whit. Her eyes shooting dark sparks, she pointed a shaking finger in his direction.