thoughts, as well. Without his partner to interfere, he’d be able to show her just what living on the plains meant. Men had to be tough, but women, they had to be hard, and that was the one thing Miss Marie Hall wasn’t. He could tell that by her hands. They were lily white.
There was a definite spring in his step as he made his way down the hotel corridor to knock on her door. Upon hearing movement, he shouted, “Burning daylight.”
All Marie saw was the back of a stranger turning the corner, heading for the hotel stairway, when she opened the door. She’d been awake for some time, assembling the essentials the children would need this morning and making sure they each had specific items in their satchels. The men who’d packed the wagon yesterday said they’d have to spend one night on the road, most likely in the wagon, before they arrived at Mick Wagner’s ranch, and she wanted to make sure the children wouldn’t be put out much by the travel. The train trip had taught her to pack books and toys, things to hold their attention. It was for her sake as much as theirs. She’d been frazzled by the time the train had arrived in Huron, and didn’t want to be that way upon meeting Mr. Wagner.
“Is it time to leave?” Beatrice asked.
“It’s time to get up,” Marie answered, glancing toward the child sitting in the middle of the bed. Peeking back into the hall, though she knew it was empty, Marie frowned. The voice had made her skin shiver, and she’d thought it was Mr. Burleson, yet it must not have been. At least, the man turning the corner hadn’t been him—far too well groomed. Which was just as well, she’d see enough of Mr. Burleson for the next day or two, and not telling him he needed a shave and haircut was going to be difficult.
He’d occupied her thoughts since meeting him yesterday. For the first time since embracing her plan, an unnerving dread had settled in her stomach and remained there. She’d imagined Mick Wagner would be like his cousin. Refined, with a kind and gentle nature. Someone who would see the children’s welfare as the priority. That’s how Emma Lou and her husband, John, had been. If Mr. Wagner was anything like his partner, he wouldn’t have any of those qualities. Mr. Burleson surely didn’t. The only time he’d looked remotely pleasant was when he’d winked at Weston. Thank goodness there would be others traveling with them today. Being alone with Mr. Burleson...
She gulped and slammed two doors shut, the one to the room and the one allowing crazy thoughts into her mind.
Beatrice and Charlotte chatted excitedly about the adventure of riding in a covered wagon, and Marie feigned enthusiasm, to keep them from worrying. That was part of her job. Children should never worry about being safe, or going hungry, or any of the frightening things she’d encountered growing up.
In no time, the girls and all four boys, who’d been staying in the adjoining room, were dressed and ready for breakfast. After checking under the beds one final time to ensure nothing would be left behind, Marie led her charges out the door.
In the dining room she settled everyone upon the chairs at their customary table and caught her breath before taking her own seat. That’s when she noticed the man watching her. Her cheeks grew warm from his stare, and she quickly averted her eyes. A good nursemaid never noticed men, no matter how handsome, and she was the best.
His ongoing stare gave her the jitters, and Marie did her best to ignore the stare and her fluttering stomach. Meals were ordered for the children, along with toast and tea for herself, which she would once again pay for separately. She’d never be indebted to anyone ever again, including Mr. Wagner. Her meager savings were dwindling quickly, but hopefully Mr. Wagner would see her worth and hire her. She’d be able to replenish her monies then. Right now, the children’s future was her priority and worth every cent she spent. They were also what gave her the courage to stand up to the men at the bank, the railroad, even the hotel and everyone else they’d encountered during this journey.
With appetites that were never ending, the children cleaned their plates, even Charlotte, who was a finicky eater. Marie was savoring her last sip of tea when a shadow fell upon the table. It was the man. She knew that without looking up, and fought the urge to do so, hoping he’d move away. He was a stranger, not one of the locals they’d come to know the past week.
“You should have eaten more than that,” he said. “It’ll be a long time until we eat again.”
The voice sent a tremor down her spine, and Marie couldn’t stop her head from snapping up. It couldn’t possibly be Mr. Burleson, yet the vest, the hat, the gun belt...
One brow was raised when her eyes finally found their way all the way up to his face, which was clean shaven. His features were crisp now, defined, including an indent in the center of his chin, and his eyes seemed no longer gray but faded blue and almost twinkling. That’s when Marie saw his smile. It slanted across his face in a cocky, self-assured way that was extremely vexing. Not exactly sure she could, or should, speak at this moment—for something deep in her stomach said he wouldn’t be as easy to deal with as the other men she’d encountered—she pinched her lips together.
“You said it was bath night,” Stafford Burleson stated, as he practically pulled the chair out from beneath her.
Copyright © 2014 by Lauri Robinson
The Boss’s Christmas Seduction
Unlocking her Innocence
Lynne Graham
Million Dollar Christmas Proposal
Lucy Monroe
Not Just the Boss’s Plaything
Caitlin Crews
Lynne Graham
LYNNE GRAHAM was born in Northern Ireland and has been a keen Mills & Boon® reader since her teens. She is very happily married, with an understanding husband who has learned to cook since she started to write! Her five children keep her on her toes. She has a very large dog, which knocks everything over, a very small terrier, which barks a lot, and two cats. When time allows, Lynne is a keen gardener.
CHRISTMAS. It was that time of year again. Not in a jolly mood, Vito Barbieri grimaced, his darkly handsome features hard with impatience. He had no time for it—the silliness of the festive season, the drunken antics and the extravagance, not to mention the lack of concentration, increased absenteeism and reduced productivity from his thousands of staff. January was never a good month for the profit margins.
Nor was he ever likely to forget the Christmas when he had lost his kid brother, Olly. Although three years had passed the tragedy of Olly’s horribly wasted life was still etched on his mind. His little brother, so bright and full of promise, had died because a drunk got behind a car wheel after a party, Vito’s party, where he and his brother had argued minutes before that fatal car journey. Guilt clouded his happier memories of the boy, ten years his junior, whom he had loved above all else.
But then love always hurt. Vito had learned that lesson young when his mother walked out on her husband and son for a much richer man. He never saw her again. His father had neglected him and rushed into a series of fleeting affairs. Olly had been the result of one of those affairs, orphaned at nine years old when his English mother died. Vito had offered him a home. It was probably the only act of generosity Vito had never regretted, for, much as he missed Olly, he was still grateful to have known him. His sibling’s sunny outlook had briefly enriched Vito’s workaholic existence.
Only now Bolderwood Castle, purchased purely because Olly fancied living in a gothic monstrosity complete with turrets, was no longer