Passion Flower by Diana Palmer

Author:Diana Palmer [Palmer, Diana]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Romance, Texas, Contemporary, Ranchers, Fiction
ISBN: 9781551661681
Publisher: Mira Books
Published: 1996-07-31T23:00:00+00:00

Funny, isn't it, that these days it's become a stigma. Back when I was a kid, decent boys wouldn't be seen with a girl who had a reputation for being easy. Now it's the virgins who take all the taunting." He stopped, turning her, and his face was solemn. "I'm glad you're still innocent. I'm glad that I can look at you and make you blush, and watch all those first reactions that you've never shown anybody else. To hell with modern morality, Jenny. I love the fact that you're as old-fashioned as I am."

"So do I. Now," she added, studying him warmly. "Rett..." Her fingers went up and touched his hard mouth. "Rett, I think I..." She was about to say "love you" when a piece of paper on the floor caught his eye.

"Hey, what's this?" he asked, bending to pick it up.

Her heart stopped. It was the check she'd gotten in the mail. She'd stuck it in her pocket, but it must have fallen out. She watched him open it and read the logo at the top with a feeling of impending disaster. She hadn't meant to tel him where it came from just yet...

His lean hand closed around the check, crumpling it. "Where did you get this kind of money, and what for?" he demanded.

"I...I worked part-time for a design house in Houston, decorating a lady's living room," she blurted out. "It's for you. To pay off your bull," she said, her face bright, her eyes shining.' 'I went to Houston and got a part-time job decorating a living room.

That's my commission. Surprise! Now you won't have to sell that mangy old Hereford bull!"

He looked odd. As if he'd tried to swallow a watermelon and couldn't get it down. He stood up, still staring at the crumpled check, and turned away. He walked to the sink, staring out the darkened window.

"How did you get a job decorating anything?"

"I studied for several years at an excel ent school of interior design in New York," she said. "I got a job with one of the leading agencies and spent two years developing my craft. That's why I got so angry when you made the remark about interior decorators being con artists," she added. "You see, I am one."

"New York?"

"Yes. It's the best place to learn, and to work."

"And you got pneumonia..."

"And had to give it up temporarily," she agreed. She frowned. He sounded strange.

"Thanks to you, I'm back on my feet now and in fine form. The lady I did the design for was really pleased with my work, too. But the reason I did it was to get you enough money to pay off your note..."

"I can't take this," he said in a strained tone. He put it gently on the table and started out the door.

"But, Everett, your supper...!" she called.

"I'm not hungry." He kept walking. A moment later, the front door slammed behind him.

She sat there at the table, alone, staring at the check for a long time, until the numbers started to blur.

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