Texas Rose by Marie Ferrarella

Author:Marie Ferrarella
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Silhouette
Published: 2002-12-26T16:00:00+00:00

Matt didn’t mind art. He had to admit that during the endless hours they’d spent crisscrossing the different rooms within the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Rose had shown him several pieces that he hadn’t minded looking at. They were even nice—especially the one with water by Monet, or Manet, or something like that. The names were swimming in his head.

But if he were being totally honest with Rose as well as himself, what he liked best about the museum was its air-conditioning system.

What’s more, he had a sneaking suspicion that at least half of the souls wandering around the museum today agreed with him.

Impatience drummed through him as he followed Rose to yet another painting; this one a mass of colors he could have sworn a three-year-old had created by getting into a paint box and flinging the contents onto a canvas.

Matt had moved slowly, just as Beth had counseled him to do. Trouble was, it was so slow that he was beginning to feel as if he were actually moving backward.

In addition, he still couldn’t get the little nun’s question out of his mind. It had planted a seed that he couldn’t seem to weed out.

Is she pregnant?

He knew that it was ridiculous to even remotely entertain the idea, and yet he just couldn’t seem to get past the question. It nagged him, cropping up at odd times in the day and night. Asking Rose would be nothing short of insulting, and he knew it. The logical conclusion to be drawn was that she’d fainted because of the heat.

Still, that little notion kept buzzing around his head.

What if she was pregnant?

What if that was the real reason Rose had left—because she couldn’t face him?

That was absurd, too, he chided, because why shouldn’t she face him? After all, if she was pregnant, it was his baby, too…

Unless it wasn’t.

Abruptly, Matt shut his mind down, refusing to go any further with the thought. He was getting far too carried away with something that probably didn’t have a germ of truth in it. Rose deserved better than that from him, he thought, annoyed with himself. And he should have better control over his own thoughts than to let his mind wander like that.

“So, what do you think?” she was asking. She’d stepped back from the painting she was admiring. And then she took a better look at Matt. Rose smiled. He’d been indulging her. “You’re bored, aren’t you?”

Matt tried not to blink like a man waking up from a self-induced trance.

“No,” he lied.

He didn’t lie worth a damn. Which was good in her book. “Then why are you trying to stifle a yawn?”

He shrugged carelessly, looking away at another painting. This one had slashes of red and yellow. “I didn’t sleep much last night.”

That much was true. He’d kept waking up all through the night. Thinking of her. Wanting so badly to cut the distance between their two rooms and to get into her bed. He’d actually gotten up several times, only to herd himself back into his bed.

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