Castillo's Fiery Texas Rose(36)

Her gaze flicked up to his face. “I just wonder if we’re jumping into things.”

He sat back and fingered the handle of the fork in his hand. “I am not in the habit of taking what you gave to me so freely.”

Again, her cheeks glowed red.

“I’m not exactly the innocent party,” she protested.

He reached out and covered her hand closest to him. “But you are.” They stared at one another. He took his finger and drew it down the line of her face. “You are so beautiful, my Querida. I think you do not even know the power you possess in one small glance.”

She dampened her lips. “But is it necessary? We barely know one another. Besides, I have a business to run.” He watched her hand cover her heart and wished his lips were there instead. “I could claim I was overcome with grief. But really, who would know?”

“Sheriff Weston did.”

Mary Rose gritted her teeth.

“And I would know.” He pulled his hand back. “I would know, and every time I’m near you or look at you I’d think about those hours spent in your arms. The way you say my name when lust is upon you, or the look in your eyes when you shatter in my hands... Oh, yes, I would know.” He took a deep breath realizing he, too, had been breathing hard just thinking of that memory. He shifted in the chair; his pants seemed a size too small.

She opened her mouth to speak, and he placed a finger to her lips. “We will talk later about this and about your business. Our meal has arrived.”

****

In truth, Elaine’s cook had outdone himself. The roast beef proved tender enough to slice with a fork. Yet her appetite had fled. She caught Trace’s glances, and their heat set her heart fluttering. Food—or even the thought of it—seemed the farthest thing from her thoughts. She had other things to consider, such as stalling tactics that would persuade this single-minded marshal against marriage.

She pushed her fork through the fluffy potatoes. If only he’d say those words, she could make do with the whole situation. Frustrated, she put down the utensil and patted at the edges of her mouth with the napkin.

He looked up and smiled.

“Are you through with your meal?”

She nodded.

“Good, good.”

That sinking feeling returned. She took a deep breath, but the words would not come. Under her watchful gaze, Trace sat back and stared at the single taper in the glass. She had a feeling he sensed her unease. “I know this is hard for you,” he began. “I understand your inner turmoil. It’s not easy for either of us to suddenly jump into such a commitment.”

She folded her hands in her lap. “Good. Then perhaps you see the folly of this. We need to forget this whole idea of marriage. I can think of a thousand reasons why this is foolish, Marshal.”

He grinned at her. “And I can think of a million more as to why it is so right.”

She shook her head. The gauntlet had been thrown, and being hardheaded she picked it up. “I keep telling you, if you are concerned about my virtue, don’t be. No one will even know what happened.” While she thought the comment lighthearted, a pained expression crossed his face.

“Because you are a woman, you cannot see it.”

His words sounded final, almost as if he regretted what she thought was beautiful, and it hurt. She looked at the plate and studied the flowered pattern around the edge.

“I will tell you this just once, and it is for our ears only. A woman’s virtue is highly regarded. What you gave to me today, you shall never be able to recover. I do not take lightly what passed between us.”

The raw emotion in his voice moved her to tears. A large lump formed in her throat as he continued.

“A few years ago… No, a lifetime ago, I thought I loved another.” He gave his head a shake. “Like some starry-eyed dreamer, I believed in love at first sight.”

Her eyes grew wide, her mouth dry. He was talking about the woman Rand had mentioned, Amelia.

“Like a fool, I asked her to be my bride. But the day of the wedding, she never came.”

“You are no fool, Trace,” she whispered.

His mouth took on a grim line. “I found her in my brother’s bed. She told me in no uncertain words how unfit I was for her. How my father betrayed Mexico for my mother.” He grimaced.

Her hand instinctively reached for his. As her fingers brushed his skin, he flinched, but she stared into the depths of his cold blue eyes. “Do not speak of this. She was a fool.”

He looked away and gave a shake of his head. “No, I was a fool because for so long I believed her lies, and for so long I hoped one day she might return.”

She watched as he struggled and gathered his thoughts together. His hand slipped over hers.

“I will be a good husband and father, my Irish Rose. You will never want for anything, I assure you.”

She listened, wishing the most important words would tumble from his lips to calm her fears. However, she understood now why they were not there. Before she could say anything, he pulled a box from his pocket.

“I know that it is customary for a woman to be presented with a token of a man’s admiration for her.”

Damn it, can’t you say the word ‘love’? She wanted to shout the thought.

Instead, she watched his fingers open the lid to the box. Her eyes widened as she spied what nestled in the cotton—a tiny gold ring, its band a twisted gold strand with two hands clutching a heart.

“It’s beautiful.” She heard the words roll off her tongue.

His fingers nimbly took the ring from the box and, grasping her left hand, slid it onto the third finger of her left hand. “It is not what I want you to have, but until I get home, this will do. As I was her firstborn, my mother left me her jewelry. Now, as my wife, the Castillo jewels will be yours.”

She gazed down at her hand. Her finger seemed heavy. His hands closed around hers. Lifting her hand, he brought it to his lips and pressed a kiss to the ring.

“You see?” He smiled up at her. “You hold my heart in your hands. When you come to my ranchero, there will be much for us to do. You will not miss your brother’s freight business.”

Mary Rose blinked. She looked down at the ring again, seeing it in new light. Instead of a promise, the ring became more of a rope stealing her freedom. The sound of footsteps moving toward them silenced their conversation. She looked up to see Sheriff Weston at their table.

“Evening.” He took a breath. “I hate to barge in on your evening, but I need to speak to Trace, if you don’t mind, Mary Rose?”

“No, of course not.”

Trace put down his napkin and rose from his chair. “I shall return and walk you home.”

She nodded and watched as the two men moved toward the lobby. Sitting alone, gazing at her hands, she wondered if she had done the right thing accepting his token. Her thumb against the back of the ring, she turned it around her finger.

“Mary Rose?”

She glanced up and watched Elaine take a seat at the table. “Are you all right?”

She could feel the hot sting of tears in her eyes. “He wants me to give up the freight business.” She blinked and held out her hand. “And marry him.”

Elaine Harmon beamed. “Congratulations,” she gushed, throwing her arms around Mary Rose’s shoulders. “He’s a great man.”

Slowly her arms encircled Elaine, and she looked down at her hand. When the hotel owner released her, she sat back, her gaze focused on the ring, which loomed large, and thought about the things he’d said. “Yes,” she nodded. “I’m sure he is.”

“Sure? Somehow this doesn’t sound good.”

“My business,” she sighed. “It’s all I know.”

“If you love him and he loves you, that will be a small bump in the road.” Elaine assured her. “Let him see how important this is to you. He’ll understand.”

Listening to the words, she wondered if Elaine was right. Yet to make him see how important her company was might be impossible. If only he could love her regardless of her work, then maybe she could reason with him.

****

Trace followed Rand to the lobby. He sensed something in his friend’s tone and knew a lead had opened up. The sheriff paused near the grandfather clock, and Trace could wait no longer. “What’s up?”

“I didn’t want to say anything in front of Mary Rose.” Rand glanced passed him.

He looked over his shoulder and watched as Elaine sat down with her at the table. A smile tugged at his lips when the owner of the hotel pulled Mary Rose’s hand toward her.

“Things go the way you wanted?” Rand’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Yes.” Trace nodded. “I think we have an understanding.”

“Good.”

“Now, what have you found out?”