Winter Roses (Romance) by Diana Palmer

Author:Diana Palmer
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780373837595
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2010-10-15T05:00:00+00:00

She waited and waited, but there was no other phone call. She even checked to make sure the phone was working. By late evening, she was certain she'd misunderstood what Stuart had said. He was probably just joking. But he wasn't a man who usually cracked jokes.

She got ready for bed, climbed under the covers and was just about to turn out the light when the phone began to ring noisily.

Heart pounding, she leaped out of bed and upended her purse to find the small flip phone. She opened it with trembling hands and put it to her ear. "Hello?"

There was a deep, soft chuckle. "Dived for the phone, did you?"

She laughed breathlessly. "Yes," she confessed.

"I would have waited. I told you I'd call."

"Yes, but I thought maybe you got busy," she began.

"So you gave up on me."

She fidgeted on the bed. "Not really. Well, maybe. I wasn't sure that you weren't teasing."

There was a brief pause. "It's early days, isn't it, Ivy?" he asked quietly. "We're only beginning to learn each other."

She wasn't sure what he meant. Her hand tightened on the phone. "Merrie invited me to spend the weekend."

"What did you tell her?"

"I said I'd let her know," she hesitated.

There was a short pause.

She felt insecure. "I didn't know if you'd approve."

The pause grew.

She felt her spirits hit the floor. She drew in a slow, shivery breath. "Stuart?"

There was a clink, like that of ice in a glass. "You don't know me at all."

"Of course I don't," she replied. "You've avoided me for two whole years."

"I had to," he said harshly.

She didn't understand what he meant. She was shy with him. It wasn't helping things.

He drew in another harsh breath. "Oh, hell." Ice sloshed in liquid again.

"I should go," she said sadly.

"Is it Hayes?" he asked harshly.

"What?"

"Are you in love with Hayes Carson?"

"I most certainly am not!" she exclaimed before she stopped to think.

There was a sigh. "Well, that's something, I guess." Another pause. "When I come back, we'll go for a drive and talk."

"That would be...nice."

"Nice."

She was lost for words. She loved the sound of his deep, slow voice. She didn't want him to hang up. But she didn't know what to say, to keep him talking.

"What are you doing?"

"Sitting on the bed in my nightgown, talking to a madman."

He burst out laughing. "Is that how I sound?"

"I feel like apologizing, but I don't know what for."

"I've had a long day," he told her. "We always get at least one tree hugger who comes to these conferences and demands that we set up special homes for our cattle where they can be properly housed and clothed and educated. This guy thinks we should learn to communicate with them."

She burst out laughing. "If you could, they'd say, 'don't eat me.'"

"You stop that," he muttered. "You know I don't raise beef cattle."

That was true. He had purebred Black Angus cattle. He knew the names and pedigrees of all his bulls, and they were as tame as dogs. The pedigree cows were treated almost as gently as the bulls.

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