Connal by Diana Palmer

Author:Diana Palmer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 1990-03-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

It wasn’t at all unusual for C.C. to have breakfast with Pepi and her father, but in recent months he’d kept very much to himself. Even so, Pepi wasn’t surprised to find him sitting in the dining room with her father when she came down to breakfast. She was surprised to find food on the table, waiting for her, right down to a fresh pot of coffee.

“Shocked, are we?” C.C. murmured dryly, his dark eyes sliding possessively down her body, clad in jeans and boots and a white blouse with a yellow knit pullover sweater. “Think men are helpless, do we?”

She glanced around, looking to see how many people he was talking to.

“Cute,” he chuckled. “Sit down and eat, before it gets cold.”

She took the chair across from him, next to her father. Her gaze went restlessly from C.C. in working clothes—denim and chambray—to her father in a suit.

“Are you planning to be buried before the end of the day, or are you going somewhere?” she asked Ben.

“I’m going to the bank to pay off the note on the place,” he said hesitantly.

“With what?” she cried.

“We can talk about it later,” C.C. interrupted. “Eat your eggs.”

“With what?” she persisted, glaring at her father. He looked guilty. Her eyes went to a smug C.C., leaning back like a conqueror with his shirt straining over a muscular chest and broad shoulders while he watched her. “You did it. You gave him the money to pay off the note, didn’t you?” she demanded.

“He’s my father-in-law,” C.C. said easily. “Not to mention my partner. We’re having the papers drawn up today. Your father is seeing about it while he’s in town.”

“You aren’t going with him?” she asked warily.

He shrugged. “We’ve got a new shipment of cattle coming in. Somebody has to be here to sign for them and oversee the unloading.”

“New cattle?” She knew her eyes were bulging. “What new cattle?”

“Some heifers to add to our replacement heifers, that’s all,” C.C. assured her. He grinned. “But we’re going to have two purebred Santa Gertrudis bulls. My brothers are coming up tomorrow.”

“There are more like you?” she wondered aloud, recalling his vague reference to them the night before.

“Three,” he reminded her.

“God help us all. Are they married?”

His dark eyes narrowed. “One of them is. The youngest. The older two are still single, and don’t get any ideas. You’ve already got a husband.”

“Only until I can get your signature on a document,” she replied sweetly.

“And hell will freeze over, first,” he returned.

“Can’t we save the arguing for later?” Ben moaned. “I want to enjoy my breakfast.”

“He’s got a point. Have some salsa.”

She gave up. She spooned the brilliant red salsa over her eggs and savored the spicy flavor they gave the perfectly cooked scrambled eggs. The bacon was neatly done, too, and the biscuits were even better than her own.

She frowned at C.C. She knew that he, like most of the men, could whip up a meal when he had to. But this was beyond the scope of most men who weren’t professional chefs.

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