His anger seemed to intensify. "Excuse us, ladies. Rose will return soon."
Travis gripped her wrist tightly in his hand and tugged her from the circle of aunts and cousins. He dragged her away from the crowd of family across the yard. Finally he took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm, his hand covering hers.
Rose glanced at him, her eyes flashing with indignation. "I know you're mad. Yes, I was reading their palms, but I was doing it for free and they asked me to, after they found out I knew how."
He marched her away from prying eyes and listening ears. They walked in silence until he felt they were far enough away.
Finally he slowed down, his hand still holding her arm. "You know you're about as nervy a person as I've ever met."
"What do you mean?"
"It takes a lot of audacity to come meet my relatives, get yourself into their good graces, and then start working the crowd."
"What? Your mother was introducing me to everyone. She was the one who wanted me to meet your family."
"You're trying to take advantage of them!"
"How? By being friendly, by saying hello?" She turned to face him and put her hands on her hips.
"No. By smiling and flirting and then telling them lies as you read their palms."
"That's not what you're upset about. You wanted me to sulk away in some corner, like you're behaving. You didn't want me to talk with anyone." Her voice seemed to climb higher as her anger from the last few days spilled forth. "You're jealous that I was having a good time, while you pouted."
"I am not pouting. You can hang around with the whole bunch of them. But I refuse to allow you to take advantage of my family by giving them some cock-and-bull story while holding their hand," he shouted.
She glared at him. "I don't tell cock-and-bull stories. I read palms. I hold séances. That's my occupation."
"You're a liar and a thief, is what you are! And now you've got half of my family believing we're going to be married."
There was a moment of silence, and Travis could hear birds chirping in the background along with the high-pitched squeals of the children.
"You know, if that's what you think, then why have you been kissing me? If I'm such a liar, then why did we have sex? As for everyone believing we're going to be married, that was your mother's doing. But don't worry, even though we had sex, I wouldn't marry you." She took a deep breath. "Ever since that morning down at the pond, you've acted ridiculous."
"I have not."
"You jumped up and practically ran that morning. You didn't even come back to the ranch until after I was in bed, and then you left early the next morning. You've barely said more than five words to me since ... since we had sex."
"I've been busy."
"Busy avoiding me."
He took a deep breath and walked away from Rose. "You should have told me you were a virgin."
Her eyes grew wider, her voice louder. "Would you have believed me, even if I had? Or would you have thought that it was just another lie?"
He swallowed, trying to find the words to respond. His anger all but dried up, and he knew she was right about everything, but he didn't want to admit the truth to himself—and especially not to her.
Rose reached for the dainty watch pin attached to her chest, her movements stiff and huffy. "I have to go-"
"You have rehearsal today?" he asked quietly, suddenly feeling drained.
"I have rehearsal every day until the day of the show," she snapped. "But don't worry, I'm coming back here to face you after rehearsal. Every night I hurry home to sit across from a man whose face could easily turn to stone, as he tries to avoid contact with me." She glanced again at her pin. "I've got to go."
"I'll drive you," he suggested.
"No! Isaiah takes me. Stay here and visit your family."
She walked briskly away from him, her long skirts swishing as she hurried away.
He watched her leaving and his heart ached. She'd been right. He hadn't known how to face her, so he'd avoided her. Though all he really wanted to do was pick her up and carry her to a quiet, secluded place and make slow, languorous love to her sexy body for as long as it took to completely satisfy them both.
How much longer could he go on observing her every day without touching her again? And did he want to?
Isaiah helped her into the wagon, and it was all Travis could do to keep from running after her. Rose Severin was a beguiling woman, an exciting vixen, and he couldn't seem to get her out of his thoughts. But worse, he couldn't seem to keep the thought of having her out of his mind.
Their morning together had been so hot and sweet that even now it haunted his nights. Kept him from sleeping as he lay in that cold bed and wondered if a second time with Rose could be any better.
Yes, she was right, he had treated her abysmally. He had avoided her, refrained from being alone with her, and tried his best to put her out of his mind.
Because he wanted her so badly.
But she was always just a heartbeat away. She was always just a thought from crossing his mind and the memory of her on a warm summer day, muddy and soaking wet, would remain with him forever.
He'd been a fool. What woman would have accepted being treated the way he had handled Rose? What woman would have calmly gone on about her business when he'd taken her virginity and then ignored her?
Not many.
Maybe it was time he tried to be a little more understanding. Maybe he needed to at least be kinder to her. Maybe he should start with an apology.
***
"Where is Petruchio?" screamed the director. Nothing was worse than a director with only three days left before the opening, a drunken actor, and a weeping leading lady.
Rose didn't want to be at rehearsal. For well over two weeks, they had practiced five hours a day, until she felt as if she were repeating the words in her sleep.
At least clearing the air with Travis had felt good, except he still believed she was a liar and a thief. He'd never shown any trust in her, and she was past taking his unfounded accusations. She had reached her limit with Mr. Burnett, and he would do well to recognize her anger and show some respect.
For weeks now she had hoped he would one day realize that she was innocent, not the evil mistress that he painted her, but so far nothing had convinced him. And this afternoon's disagreement had left a rancid taste in her mouth.
She'd given the man her virginity, made love with him, shared her most private, intimate self, and he still believed the worst about her.
"Rose, are you supposed to be at stage right or stage left?"
The director's voice yanked her back to the present, and she glanced around at where everyone else was standing and realized she'd missed a cue. She was supposed to be on the other side of the stage. "Sorry, I missed a cue. I should be over on the other side of Katharina."
She hurried across the stage, and the actress who was playing Katharina glared at her.
"Okay, everyone, let's start again from the top of Act Two, scene one," the director yelled.
Rose put her hands behind her back as if they were bound. "Good sister, wrong me not, nor wrong yourself, To make a bondmaid and a slave of me; That I disdain: but for these other gauds, Unbind my hands, I'll pull them off myself, Yea— "
"Stop!" The director yelled, shaking his head. "Your sister is tormenting you, trying to find out about your suitors. Bianca is distraught, not whiny. Can you grasp that, Miss Severin?"
Rose nodded. "Yes, sir."
"From the top of act two again, please."
Rose started her lines again, wanting only to be back at the ranch, with Travis and his family.
Being with such a large family had been interesting as they sat around and spoke of years past and generally caught each other up on what was happening in their lives. She'd never belonged to a group of people who shared a common bond. Right up until the moment Travis dragged her away from the Burnetts, she had been enjoying herself.
"Miss Seve
rin!" The director screamed.
Rose stopped and glanced out at the irritable man.
"Yes?"
"I'm sitting out in the audience and I can't hear you. Speak up! Make your voice vibrate with the emotions and feelings of your character. Once again, Bianca is not whiny!" He shook his head. "Begin again."
For the third time, Rose started saying her lines and somehow, this time they made it all the way to the slap before the director screamed at the actress playing Katharina.
Somewhere in these last few weeks, acting had suddenly ceased being a dream and had become a reality. A very real reality that was no longer fun, but hard work that was tiring and monotonous.
And sometime during the last month, Rose had begun to enjoy living out on the Bar None, experiencing the ups and downs of ranch life. The cattle, even the horses, no longer seemed as frightful as they once had.
Sometime she had learned to love the way she could stand on the front porch at night and see the stars twinkling above her in the sky, hear the crickets singing and the cows bawling.
Somehow since her arrival at the Bar None, there had been a subtle change going on inside her. She felt more contented, more relaxed, and just a little mollified, despite being held against her will.
But soon she would be moving on. Soon she and Isaiah would catch a stage out of town.
Chapter Fifteen
A full moon hung in the eastern sky just above the horizon as Isaiah helped Rose from the wagon, while Bart, the man Travis insisted ride with her for protection, held the reins of the horses. She was so tired, she didn't know if she could make it across the yard to the house and up the stairs to bed.
Whatever naive joy she'd found in acting, the director seemed to have killed these last few rehearsals. Tonight he'd kept them an extra two hours trying to perfect the scene. How had her mother done this day after day, rehearsing, giving up personal time, to be coerced, yelled, and screamed at?
The extra two hours of rehearsal, then the long ride home, had gotten her and Isaiah back late. The reunion was long over, everyone had gone home, and the house was dark except for one lone lantern. She was tired, she was heartsick, and her bed upstairs beckoned invitingly.
"Good night, Miss Rose. You get some rest," Isaiah said, unhitching the horse from the wagon.
"Good night, Isaiah. I'll see you tomorrow." She nodded her head toward the driver. "Night, Bart."
"Night," he mumbled.
Rose trudged slowly toward the house, her legs leaden and heavy, her back aching, and her voice sounding scratchy and rough from repeating her lines over and over. Hopefully, the world would appear a better place in the morning, for tonight it seemed a dark, lonely locale. A site where her dreams appeared more like a nightmare than her heart's desire.
She stepped onto the wooden porch, her hand on the rail, when she heard Travis's voice.
"I was starting to get worried about you," he said, his voice deep and husky in the night air.
She jumped, startled by Travis sitting in the shadows. "You scared me."
"Sorry. I wanted to make sure you made it home okay."
His voice was low and as smooth as silk, sending a delicious shiver down her spine.
"The director kept us an extra two hours tonight."
He'd waited for her, pretending to be concerned for her safety. She continued walking up the steps and across the porch until she stood before him. She didn't have the strength to fight him and had no desire to continue their earlier disagreement. He reached up, took her by the hand, and gently pulled her down onto the swing beside him. The touch of his hand was warm and pleasant, almost comforting.
"You look like you're about ready to fall down."
"I'm tired," she said.
"Rough rehearsal?" he asked.
"The worst yet. I don't know what I expected from acting, but I wasn't prepared for the endless hours of standing on the stage saying the same lines over and over. Or waiting while someone else repeated their lines time and again."
"It's a lot of hard work then?"
"Harder than anything I've ever done."
A cool night breeze blew against her skin, teasing the wisps of curls that had fallen from the twist at the back of her head. Sitting next to Travis in the dark, not talking, just resting, was soothing. A sense of closeness enveloped her, as if they were the only people for miles and miles in the dark.
It was almost as if she knew when he was going to take his next breath, and her body adjusted to be in pulse with him. Adjusted and fell into a rhythm with this man who was her captor.
She turned her face toward Travis in the dark, and he reached out and brushed the curls away from her face. "I ... I owe you an apology."
Rose swallowed, feeling suddenly very nervous. She was tired, and she was enjoying the peace of just sitting beside him, feeling close.
"Do we have to talk?" she asked, wanting only to enjoy his presence beside her.
He pulled her head down onto his shoulder, and she relaxed against him, soaking up the feel of his body heat.
"I mean, didn't we say it all this afternoon?" She was so tired, she knew her defenses were down and she couldn't take another battle. Not now. Not when she needed to feel his arms around her, holding her as though he was keeping the world at bay, keeping her safe in the security of his embrace.
"That's what I need to apologize for." He picked up her hand and held it, his thumb caressing her skin. "This afternoon, you were right. I have been avoiding you," he said, not looking at her. "I wasn't prepared for the fact that you were a virgin. Your innocence took me completely off guard."
She didn't move; her head lay still against his shoulder. "You thought there had been many men in my life, didn't you?"
He nodded his head. "Yes."
She laughed. "Why? What made you think that I was well acquainted with the ways of love?"
"The way you acted at that roadhouse in Waco and the way you talk sometimes led me to believe you weren't an innocent," he acknowledged, gazing at her in the darkness. There was genuine surprise in his voice.
"If you had known I was a virgin, would you have made love with me?"
He was silent for a moment.
"Honestly?" he asked, pausing to consider. "Yes. But you should have given me some clue that it was your first time."
"I wasn't thinking very clearly at that moment. And I certainly wasn't contemplating stopping you," she admitted, feeling the heat suffuse her face in the darkness.
She would never admit it out loud, but even now she didn't know if she would stop him if he were to pursue her again. But worse, she didn't want to halt him. The strength of his arms around her caused her breathing to quicken and her pulse to beat erratically.
"You have to remember that my father, Isaiah, and an occasional woman friend of my father were the people who took care of me when I was a child." She yawned. "My father's lady friends did not exactly attend church."
"I'm sorry for the way I've treated you since ... since we were down at the pond."
She sat up and gazed at him. "You really are apologizing?"
"Yes, I am." He smiled. "Have I been that bad?"
"You were a casse-couilles. "
"And what is that?" he asked.
"A pain in the derriere."
He chuckled while his hand stroked her face. "Where did you learn to speak French? And you've already admitted to being born here in America, so don't give me that line about coming from France. I'm not buying it."
Rose smiled and relaxed against the back of the swing. "Papa had a girlfriend who was from France. I was eighteen and completely enamored of her. She was teaching me to speak French—until she found Papa with another woman. Then I never saw her again. But she taught me mainly curse words, so that I could say them without anyone knowing what I was saying."
He laughed and brushed back her hair.
"I found that I attracted attention when I spoke French. People automatically assume you're from France. I never
lied, but I also never contradicted what they wanted to believe."
Travis shook his head, but didn't say anything.
Rose glanced out at the stars twinkling in the north Texas sky. It felt so cozy as she pushed the swing back with her foot, sending the wooden seat to rocking. Travis followed her lead by leaning against the back of the swing. Slowly he raised his arm and slipped it around her shoulders, pulling her in close. She enjoyed the feel of his body against hers.
Swinging on the front porch in the dark, with Travis's arm around her, felt so good, yet they still had so much unresolved between them. The ring, his accusations, and her acting separated them like the bars of the city jail. But tonight she just wanted to relax, be with him, pretend that everything was fine, pretend that he was courting and she was his lady. Nothing would ever come of this strange attraction between them, because he could never accept who she was. But for just tonight she wanted to forget their problems, if only for a little while. She needed comforting, and for some reason Travis soothed her better than anyone.
He turned his head toward her at the same time she turned toward him and glanced into his smoldering brown eyes. As the moon slipped from behind a cloud, she could see him gazing at her in that special way that always seemed to take her breath away. His full lips were mere inches away. Inches from pressing against hers, after being separated for what seemed like an eternity.
She needed his touch, his hands molding her against him in the most intimate way. She wanted to feel the way his kiss shattered her soul and left her soaring for the sky. She longed to see if what she had experienced by the pond had been real and not just a muddy dream.
With a sigh, she moved, slanting her lips over his, reveling in the sheer joy that consumed her as their mouths connected. Eagerly, he pulled her closer into his arms, his tongue mating with hers, his scent heady and powerful.
It'd been so long since he'd kissed her, so long since the pond, and she'd missed his touch, his strong embrace, the warmth of his kiss, the taste of Travis as he moved his mouth over hers. The closeness she felt with him tonight was powerful, yet frightening.
Travis Burnett had the ability to sway her ardently, to persuade her to give herself and her deepest emotions to him. He was her captor and her lover, yet she'd wanted neither. Now she didn't know what she desired, though the thought of leaving Travis left a hole the size of Texas in her heart.