Connal. Diana Palmer

it disturbing sensations of another kind of conquest. She was no prude, and despite her innocence, she knew what men and woman did together in bed. But the sensation, the actual feelings they shared were alien to her. She wondered if C.C. would be like that in bed, if he’d have that same glittery look in his eyes, that same savage smile on his thin lips as he brought a woman to ecstasy under the driving force of his hard, sweat-glistened body…

      She went scarlet. Fortunately there was nobody nearby to see her. She darted into the house and up the staircase to get dressed for her dinner date with Brandon.

      They went to a restaurant in downtown El Paso, one famous in the area for the size of its steaks and for its view of the city at night from its fourteenth-floor location in a well-known hotel.

      “I do love the view from up here,” Pepi told Brandon, smiling at him as they were shown to a seat by the huge windows overlooking the Franklin Mountains. The Franklins, in fact, were responsible for the city’s name, because the pass that separated the Franklins from the Juárez Mountains to the south was called El Paso del Norte—the path of the north. Part of the mountain chain was located in the city of El Paso itself. The only major desert city in Texas, El Paso shared much history with Mexico’s Juárez, across the border. Pancho Villa lived in El Paso after his exile from his own country, and historically the Texas city, which sat on the Butterfield Overland stage route in the late nineteenth century had been the site of Indian attacks and a replica of old Fort Bliss marked the former home of the cavalry that once fought the Apaches, including the famous Chief Victorio. Modern day Fort Bliss was the home of the largest air defense center of the free world. Not far from the restaurant where Pepi and Brandon were eating was the Acme Saloon, where gunfighter John Wesley Hardin was shot in the back and killed.

      On a less grim note, there was an aerial tramway up to Ranger Peak, giving tourists a view of seven thousand square miles of mountain and desert. There were one hundred parks in El Paso, not to mention museums, old missions, and plenty of attractions across the border in Mexico’s largest border city, Juárez.

      Pepi had lived near El Paso all her life, and she had the love of the desert that comes from living near it. Tourists might see an expanse of open land nestled between mountain ranges with no apparent life. Pepi saw flowering agave and prickly pear cactus, stately organ pipe cactus and creosote bushes, graceful mesquite trees and the wonder of the mountain ranges at sunset. She loved the desert surrounding the city. Of course, she loved her own home more. The land down near Fort Hancock where the ranch was located was just a bit more hospitable than this, and her roots were there.

      “The view from up here is pretty great,” Brandon agreed, drawing her out of her reveries. “But you suit me better than the desert and the mountains,” he added, his gaze approving her simple mauve dress with its crystal pleats and cap sleeves. Her hair, in an elegant bun, drew attention to the exquisite lines of her face and the size of her pale brown eyes. She’d used more makeup than usual and she looked honestly pretty, freckles and all. But it was her figure that held Brandon’s attention. When she dressed up, she was dynamite.

      “What will you have to drink?” the waitress asked with a smile, diverting both of them.

      “Just white wine for me,” Pepi replied.

      “I’ll have the same,” her escort added.

      The waitress left and Brandon, resplendent in a dark suit, leaned his forearms on the spotless white tablecloth and stared at her warmly. “Why won’t you marry me?” he asked. “Does it have something to do with the fact that I hang out with animals?”

      She laughed. “I love animals. But I’m not quite ready for marriage yet.” Then she remembered that she was married, and her heart dropped. She shifted back in her chair, feeling vaguely guilty at being out with Brandon when she was legally another man’s wife. Of course, the man she was married to didn’t know it. That made her feel a little better, at least.

      “You’re an old lady of twenty-two,” he persisted. “You’ll be over the hill before you know it.”

      “No, I won’t. I haven’t even decided what I want to do with my life yet.” That was true. She’d never gone to college. Somehow, after she’d graduated from high school, there had been too much to demand her time at home. “I like figures,” she murmured absently. “I thought I might take an accounting course or something.”

      “You could come and work for me. I need a bookkeeper,” he said instantly.

      “Sorry, but so does Dad. Jack Berry, our present bookkeeper, is hopeless. So is Dad. If I decide to take on bookkeeping, you’d better believe that Dad will scoop me up first. He hates having to redo Jack’s figuring.”

      “I guess… Well, well, look at that dress!”

      It was unusual for Brandon to be so wickedly interested in what any woman wore. Pepi turned her head slightly to follow his gaze and her heart froze in her chest.

      Edie was just coming in the door, wearing a red dress that was cut to the waist in back and dipped in a faintly low V in front. Despite its length, it was an advertisement for her blond beauty, and she drew eyes. Just behind her stood a bored-looking C.C. in a dark vested suit, his hard face showing lines of tiredness from the two weeks of work he’d just put in. Pepi could hardly bear to look at him.

      He must have felt her stare because his head turned and even across the room she registered the impact of that level look. She averted her eyes and smiled at Brandon.

      “You might as well keep your leering looks to yourself,” she said more pleasantly than she wanted to. “C.C.’s pretty possessive of her.”