Texas Rose. Marie FerrarellaЧитать онлайн книгу.
the gold-bound book on the coffee table and had been leafing through it. She jumped at her opportunity. “Oh, you’ve found my scrapbook.”
Nostalgia had her sinking down beside him on the sofa, ready to page through the book with him.
Only sheer will restrained Matt from doing a double take. The page opened in front of him was of an apparently nude, nubile woman who had strategically arranged feathers to cover all the important places. He looked from the page to Beth.
“This is you?” he asked.
“Yes.” She was eighteen then and fresh from the ranch. It seemed like a million years ago now. And just like only yesterday. “I was on Broadway. Off-Broadway, actually. Way off.” She’d worked her way up to the legitimate theater, and acquired many wonderful memories and almost as many men along the way. Beth sighed. “It’s been a wonderful life.” And then she smiled at Matt. “But you’re not here to listen to me reminisce.”
It occurred to him that he felt comfortable with this woman he’d never met before. As comfortable with Beth Wainwright Montgomery Cannon Williams Smith, et cetera as he was with Rose, or had been before she’d dumped him. Maybe it was a family trait, he reasoned. Although Rose was far less outgoing and flamboyant than her aunt. Truthfully, he was glad of that, because if she’d been like Beth, he would have had to stand in line instead of keeping her all for himself.
Matt sensed an ally in Beth and as such, felt that it was only smart to encourage her to continue. “No, please, go ahead.”
Beth patted his hand, her violet eyes sparkling like newly uncorked champagne poured into a fluted glass. “Not just handsome, but smart, too.” She laughed as she looked at Rose over Matt’s head. “This one’s a charmer, Rose.”
“Yes,” Rose said, looking pointedly at Matt. “But charm eventually wears thin.”
The remark hit him straight in his heart, like a well-aimed arrow. What was he doing here, humbling himself in front of a woman who had walked out on him, who’d all but told him that she’d had her fun, but the excitement was gone and now it was time to return to their previous lives?
Where the hell was his pride?
“Since I’m here,” he heard himself saying, “I might as well take a long overdue vacation. But this place is so damn confusing,” he confided to Beth, ignoring Rose completely, “I’m going to need someone to be my guide.” He waited for the offer he thought was inevitable. When it didn’t come from Beth, he urged, “How about you? Are you up for it?”
To his surprise, Beth shook her head. “Oh, my dear, I would be more than up for it, but I’m right in the middle of teaching an acting class.” Then she beamed as if suddenly struck by a thought that he suspected had been there all along. “But Rose is free.”
He spared Rose a glance. “I don’t expect she knows very much of the city.”
“She knows a great deal more than you give her credit for, Matt.”
He shifted in his seat, turning to look at Rose who was on his other side. Was it his imagination, or did she suddenly look pale? “All right, how about it? Will you show me around?”
Why were they playing these games? Why couldn’t he just go home? “You don’t really want to see the city,” Rose replied.
Matt could feel his temper heating again. There was no doubt about it, Rose could set him off like nobody he knew.
“I said I did, didn’t I? Why do you always have to contradict what I say?”
She was in no mood to be diplomatic. “Maybe it’s because you never say what you mean.”
Beth clapped her hands together three times before she managed to get their attention.
“Children, children, stop fighting this instant and make nice or I’ll send you both to your rooms without any supper.” A complete pushover, even in jest, she rethought that. “Well, that’s too harsh, but without dessert at any rate.” She winked.
Rose folded her hands in front of her and let out a deep breath. She supposed she had sounded like a child, arguing just now. And since it looked as if Matt wasn’t about to leave unless she agreed to some kind of a tour of the city, she decided that this was the lesser of all evils.
“All right, I’ll show you around the city if that’s what you really want.”
“I always love a warm invitation,” he said sarcastically.
Beth intervened. “Make up and say yes, dear, before I show you your room.”
Almost in shock, Rose stared at Beth and then Matt, praying that Beth was using some like of poetic license. “He’s staying here?”
“Well, there was a suitcase in the hall next to his foot and I assumed it was his,” Beth told her.
It could stay in the hallway for all Rose cared—along with him. “Just because he has a suitcase doesn’t mean he has to put it here. This isn’t a hotel.” The moment she said it, she regretted it, knowing what was coming.
Beth didn’t disappoint her. “No, of course not, but I took you in, didn’t I?”
Rose tried to rally and dig herself out of the hole she’d fallen into. “I’m family.”
Beth merely nodded sagely. Her near-death experience on the operating table several years ago had made her reestablish communication between herself and a higher power.
“We’re all one big family in God’s eyes, dear.” She turned to Matt. “And Matt obviously needs a room, don’t you, dear?”
He rose to his feet. “I was going to a hotel.”
Leaning on the arm of the sofa, Beth pushed herself upright. “I’ll save you the trouble. Third door on the left. Guest bedroom. I love having guests,” she confided.
“Ms. Wainwright—”
“Call me Beth, please. And I won’t hear another word about it. Keep arguing and you’ll hurt my feelings. You wouldn’t want to do that, now, would you?”
Matt shook his head in compliance, but Rose opened her mouth to protest. “But—”
“Good.” Rose clapped her hands together. “Then it’s settled. You’re staying. It’s a big apartment. We won’t get in each other’s way.”
Unless, of course, I orchestrate something, Beth added silently.
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