“He is my hero.” Laura slanted Boone a look that was half-teasing and half-serious.
“Your hero?” Sebastian’s eyebrow arched in sharp challenge.
His reaction briefly startled her, then realization dawned. “Of course, you don’t know anything about the incident last night,” she said and proceeded to tell both Sebastian and his sister about the attempted theft of her casino winnings that Boone had thwarted.
When she finished, Helen gazed at Boone with frank admiration. “How astute of you to notice what was going on and catch the man in the act. He must have been desperate to escape, yet you managed to subdue him. How very brave of you.”
“I didn’t do anything that someone else wouldn’t have done in my place,” Boone stated with an easy modesty.
“I disagree,” Helen protested with vigor. “Most of the men I know would never have observed the theft in process. And the few who might have noticed would likely have shouted an alarm. I can’t think of any who would have actually struggled with the thief, let alone come out the victor. Have you had training for such situations? In the armed forces, perhaps?”
“Most men raised in Texas have found themselves in a fight or two somewhere along the line. That’s just the way it is.” His big shoulders lifted in a dismissive shrug.
“That’s one thing I could always say about Boone—he’s handy with his fists,” Max declared, rearing back his head to gaze up at his son with approval. “He wasn’t much more than fifteen when one of the ranch hands started hazing him. Boone didn’t take it too kindly and proceeded to make his feelings known. Needless to say, that cowboy got his walking papers—along with a busted nose and a black eye. You didn’t suffer anything worse than a cut lip, did you, Boone?”
“That and a bruise or two,” Boone replied. “But that was a long time ago.”
“How fascinating,” Helen murmured, all her attention centered on Boone. “Do forgive me for being so curious, but I can’t help wondering what prompted you to be suspicious. Casinos are often crowded. It isn’t at all uncommon to be jostled by another patron.”
Watching her, Sebastian couldn’t help smiling to himself. Rare was the person who didn’t enjoy talking about himself, and his sister had a natural flair for encouraging an individual to do just that.
With Boone otherwise occupied by Helen, his way was now clear with Laura. He took advantage of it. “I am relieved to learn that you are none the worse for your adventurous evening.” He kept his voice low, strictly for Laura’s hearing, to avoid attracting the attention of others to their conversation.
“Thanks to my knight coming to my rescue,” Laura replied easily, her glance centering on Boone.
Sebastian flicked a glance at his rival. “I can’t say that his armor is all that shiny.”
She laughed softly. “I don’t know of many cowboys who are polished.”
“The son of Max Rutledge is a bit more than a cowboy,” he corrected dryly.
“They’re both cut from the same cloth, and it’s a rough one,” Laura stated with the certainty of one who had been born and raised with their kind.
“But you are different. You are silk, not denim.” As expected, his remark drew the fullness of her attention.
Laura was quick to recognize the veiled attempt to persuade her that she didn’t belong with the likes of Boone Rutledge. But what Sebastian didn’t realize was that a daring woman would have no qualms at all about pairing silk with denim.
Tara joined them, preventing any further opportunity for private conversation. Within minutes the butler informed Sebastian that dinner was ready.
“That was a damned fine meal, Dunshill,” Max declared as they all took their coffee in the manor’s sitting room. “A helluva lot better than most of the tasteless food I’ve had since we’ve been here.”
“I’m pleased you enjoyed it,” Sebastian replied with a host’s easy pride.
Coffee cup in hand, Boone wandered over to the room’s elaborate marble fireplace. Laura covertly kept an eye on him, noting the air of restlessness about him and recalling how quiet he had been during dinner.
“No offense to tonight’s meal,” Max began in preface, “but if you want to taste some really good cooking, you’ll have to come to Texas.”
Boone spoke up, “Don’t mind my father. A week away from home is about all he can handle before his mouth gets to watering for some of that down-home Texas food.” His gaze fastened on Laura with riveting intensity, making it almost impossible to look away even if that had been her wish. “Ever had
cabrito,
Laura?”
“No. But I’ve heard it’s good.”
Max snorted at that. “Good! It’s a helluva lot better than good.
Cabrito
is the best-tasting food you’ll ever have.”
“Cabrito
is a specialty of the Slash R,” Boone stated, referring to the Rutledge home ranch. “You’ll have to come to the ranch sometime and we’ll fix it for you.” There was an invitation in his dark eyes that went beyond his words.
“Are you extending a formal invitation for me to come?” With lips in a playful curve, Laura cocked her head at him, her own dark eyes alight to the look in his.
“I am,” Boone confirmed, smiling back.
“In that case”—rising, Laura took her cup and made a leisurely stroll to his side—“I just might take you up on it.”
“Please excuse my ignorance,” Helen inserted, “but I have never heard of
cabrito.
What is it?”
“You may not want to know,” Tara warned.
But Max didn’t give her a chance to retract her question. “It’s a kid. After you’ve dressed it out, you bury it in a pit full of embers and roast it slow all night.”
“A kid,” Helen repeated with a slightly horrified expression.
“A young goat,” Tara was quick to explain.
“Oh,” Helen said. “For a moment I thought—never mind what I thought,” she added with a self-conscious laugh.
But it was obvious to everyone what she had thought, which gave them all a good chuckle—and led to a discussion of more exotic fare that could be found on foreign menus.
Food wasn’t a topic that particularly interested Laura. She let her attention wander to the ornate design of the marble fireplace.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she remarked idly, touching the smooth, cool stone.
Boone made a disinterested sound of agreement. “An old house like this, I’ll bet it’s cold and drafty in here come wintertime.”
Laura sensed at once that his remark was more than idle observation. “Why would you think about that?” she asked in light challenge.
His expression was serious, with just a touch of irritation and uncertainty flickering in the depths of his eyes. “You wouldn’t be the first woman who could get caught up in the idea of marrying into the titled nobility.” He injected a trace of sarcasm in the latter phrase. “The reality usually turns out to be a lot less appealing.”
He almost sounded jealous, but Laura suspected that Boone was the kind of man who hated losing above all else—even if he didn’t particularly want the prize. His highly competitive nature was one of the things that attracted her to him.
“You surprise me, Boone. Brotherly sounding advice isn’t something I expected to hear from you,” Laura replied, her smile lightly mocking him. “But I wouldn’t worry if I were you. As you can see, both my feet are planted firmly on the floor. No one has swept me off them. At least not yet,” she teased.
“Dammit, I’m serious,” His low-voiced retort rumbled with impatience.
“Are you?” Laura countered, giving his statement another meaning. “I’m not sure about that yet.”
He drew his head back, a wariness leaping into his eyes. “What’s this? A game of hard-to-get?”
“You misunderstand.” She lightly ran her fingertips under the lapel of his suit jacket. “I’m not really hard to get, but I am very hard to keep.” Laura caught the startled look that flashed into his expression as she turned back to face the others.
At that moment, Tara spoke. “I’m really curious to see the rest of the house. Would it be rude of me to ask if you could give us a tour, Sebastian?”
His attention was on Laura, and she knew that he had noticed her talking to Boone. With an effort he shifted his focus to Tara.
“Not at all,” he replied, smoothly gracious. “We could go now if you like.”
“Wonderful.” Tara immediately returned her nearly empty coffee cup to its saucer and stood.
“You can count me out,” Max stated. “I’ll go up to my room instead. I’ve got some papers to go over. Touring houses is women’s stuff, anyway.” He pivoted his wheelchair around and pointed it toward the doorway. It started forward, then stopped as he fired a look at Tara. “If it isn’t late when you come up, stop by my room. There’s something of mutual interest I’d like to talk to you about.”
The request caught Tara off guard, which showed in her failure to immediately respond. “Of course, I will,” she said, recovering her aplomb. “And I doubt I’ll stay up very late.”
“Good,” Max said with an emphatic nod, and the motorized wheelchair carried him out of the room.
With eyebrows raised, Tara glanced at Laura. “It obviously must be business. I doubt if it’s anything serious.” She lifted her shoulders in an eloquent shrug of unconcern and looked to Sebastian. “Shall we begin our tour?”
“By all means,” Sebastian agreed. “The small sitting room is just across the hall. We might as well begin there.”
After the somewhat stiff formality of the main sitting room, the smaller one had a definitely cozy and more casual air. With its eclectic mix of furniture styles, patterns, and colors, and an artful scattering of unrelated objects, it was a room that made no pretense about its purpose: to be a comfortable spot for the family to gather.
From there it was on to the music room, with its collection of instruments that had all been played by one member of the family or another. Tara took a turn at the grand piano and pronounced it in need of a tuning.
A ballroom took up much of the west wing’s first floor. It was essentially bare of furnishing except for a few chairs hugging the wall, and its air had that stale, musty smell of a room that had been unused for years. Sebastian explained that he had been a lad of nine the last time the family had entertained on such a grand scale.
In addition to the library, there was a gentleman’s study for conducting the estate business and an east-facing morning room for breakfast. Sebastian showed them another room that he said his mother had used as her office. Then he opened a double set of doors that admitted them to a game room, complete with card table, dartboard on the wall, and billiard table. Boone gravitated immediately toward the latter.
“This is a beautiful table.” He ran a hand over the smooth slate top, then stepped back to give it an overall look and glanced at Sebastian. “Do you play pool?”
Helen laughed at his question. “Billiards is a passion with the whole Dunshill family.”
“Do you play, too?” Boone frowned, not entirely certain what she meant.
“I do,” she said with a proud and smiling lift of her head. “In fact, I even won one of our family tournaments a few years ago.”
“Quite a few years ago,” Sebastian inserted dryly.
“How about we have a game?” Boone suggested, a challenge in his eyes.
Not immediately answering, Sebastian turned to Laura. “Do you play billiards?”
“I have played, but my skill is strictly that of an amateur,” she admitted without apology.
Helen promptly spoke. “We could play partners, Sebastian, and she can be on your team.”
The implication that Sebastian was that good was not lost on Boone. Laura caught it, too. “I’m game if you are,” she told Sebastian
“Why not?” He seemed amused at the prospect of the two of them against the world.
Laura sensed Boone’s displeasure with the arrangement. But she also knew his combative nature wouldn’t allow him to pass up the opportunity to compete head to head with Sebastian.
“I’ll rack ’em up,” he said and laid the triangle on the table, then set about collecting the billiard balls.
“As interesting as the outcome of this game might be,” Tara said, “I think I’ll leave you all here and go see what Max wants to talk to me about. Have fun.” She lifted a hand in farewell and exited the room.
“You’ll need a cue stick.” Sebastian guided Laura to the rack, surveyed the selection, then cast an assessing eye over her and picked one. “This should do.” He passed it to her, a slightly conspiratorial air to his smile. “With any luck, you won’t have to use it.”
“Don’t count on it,” Boone stated with the easy confidence of a man certain of his skill at the game.
With the first scattering strike of the billiard balls, there was an electric feel to the air. It tingled through Laura, quickening all her senses and making her aware of the sizzling undercurrents.
She eyed the two combatants, each a contrast to the other in his approach. Boone was focused and intense, while Sebastian was calm and unconcerned. She was a little surprised that she could be attracted to two such different men. Sebastian was not only sexually attractive, but he also made her laugh. Boone, on the other hand, excited her in a different way, bringing a rush of some powerful, primitive emotion she hadn’t been able to identify. As far as she was concerned, it was too soon to say which one would come out on top, regardless of this pool game.