Breathless(52)

He added, “I want you to wear a skirt the next time I get you alone. No denims.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ll be taking your drawers as punishment for how hard I’m going to be for the rest of the day thinking about you and your sponge. You really are trying to kill me.”

Thrilled by his words, she didn’t agree to the order but gave him a serene smile instead. As she walked away, she was trailed by his laughter.

Kent hadn’t been kidding about his arousal. Watching her exit, he was as hard as he’d ever been for a woman and it had occurred instantly. He didn’t know where she’d gotten the sponges, but he had to smile because he’d just purchased rubbers while in Tucson earlier. He couldn’t wait to get her alone. Once she was out of sight, it took him a few moments to will his body back into a calm state and for his mind to remember what he’d planned to do before being nearly knocked to his knees by her and her talk of sponges, but once he had everything back in order, he went inside to find Rhine.

His knock on the frame of the opened door made Rhine glance up from his seat behind his desk. “Come on in. Regan said the trip to Tucson went well.”

Kent settled into one of the brown leather chairs. “It did. No Apaches or outlaws.”

“Good. Glad we got that group out of our hair.”

Kent was, too. “I’d like to talk to you about something if I can.”

Rhine sat back. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

“You mentioned the possibility of maybe leasing the Blanchard property.”

“I did.”

“Would you consider letting me lease it with an option to buy it outright at some point in the future? I have some money saved up.”

The famous Fontaine poker face descended over Rhine’s features. After a few long minutes of silence, he asked, “What about future income? Where would it come from?”

“Horses. If I make one trip a year and bring back a reasonable amount to sell, I think I could make a business and be able to pay you and any hands I’d need to hire.”

“Thought you were too old for horse wrangling.”

“Was when I thought I’d be working for you. Working for myself is a different matter.” And if he could convince Portia to be his wife, he needed a way to provide for her and any children they might have.

Rhine asked, “Can you give me some time to think about it?”

“Sure.” He hadn’t expected Rhine to agree to the proposal without giving it some thought.

“I also may have to deal with Landry and his bogus claim.”

“Understood.”

“Okay. I’ll let you know soon.”

“Thanks. In the meantime, I’m going to grab something to eat. I want to ride over there after dinner and make sure nothing else has happened. I take it you haven’t heard anything from the sheriff about the posse?”

“No and it angers me.”

“Same here.”

“The Ranchers Association meets tomorrow. I’ll ask if anyone has any ideas. You should probably attend, too.”

“Sure.”

Rhine said, “I don’t have anything pressing later on. How about we ride over to the Blanchard place together?”

“Fine with me. Let me know when you’re ready.”

Rhine nodded. Kent rose to his feet and left him to his work.

With his mind on the many ways he planned to pay Portia back for his constant state of arousal, Kent sat on the bench outside his bedroom and took out the letter he’d received from his father, Oliver. In a way he was pleased the old man had taken the time to write, and as he read further, Kent found himself equally pleased that not only were his father and stepmother, Sylvia, doing well, but they were planning to visit him and the Fontaines. What gave him pause however was the part in the letter referencing Sylvia’s great-niece, Ruth, who was traveling with them and who would, his always meddling father wrote, make you an ideal wife.

Kent tossed the letter aside and put his head in his hands. “Dammit!”





Chapter Thirteen




Three days before the rodeo, Portia was working in her office when her uncle Rhine stopped by. “How are the letters coming along?” he asked. “Do you need my help?”

“No. I’m almost done.” She was sending out letters to all the guests scheduled for the rest of the spring and summer to let them know that due to circumstances beyond the hotel’s control, the dude ranch was closed and their deposits would be refunded. “I received a few cancellations even before I sent out the letters from people who’d read about Geronimo’s escape in the newspapers. Many of the wedding parties from back East have already cancelled as well.”

“Not something I like hearing but it’s understandable.”

“On a happier note, I’m also sending out letters on my own behalf.”

He looked confused. “Concerning what?”

“I’ve decided to open my bookkeeping business, so I’m alerting some of the other businesses to the services I plan to offer.”

A smile spread over his features. “That’s wonderful, Portia. You and I talked about this a few years back but I thought you’d given up on the idea.”

“No. I was just afraid I’d fail,” she admitted.