To Love A Texan. Georgina Gentry

homely and middle-aged as she did right now. “Some men would feel their masculinity threatened by an apron.”

      He simply grinned again. “Now, Miss Primm, do I look as if my masculinity was lackin’?”

      “I can promise you it ain’t,” Sadie said, and all the girls laughed.

      Lillian felt her face flush. “It was not a personal inquiry, I can assure you, Mr. O’Neal.”

      Delilah came through the kitchen door just then carrying another giant tray of meat. It looked like half a cow. That was followed by hot rolls and gravy, all sorts of vegetables and huge glasses of iced tea.

      Brad dug into his food like a man who likes to eat. But then, probably all his passions were big, Lillian thought critically. He was probably like Falstaff in that Shakespeare play—with a huge appetite for women, food, and drink. The girls were now chatting with each other while Lillian ate daintily.

      The gambler frowned and gestured with his knife. “Miss Primm, I think you’re as skinny as a rack of bones. Eat up, there’s plenty more.”

      “What is this?” She stared down at some of the food as she helped herself.

      “Fried green tomatoes and fried okra,” he explained. “Later in the summer, we’ll have watermelon.”

      She hadn’t meant to, but she found herself eating heartily. She, who had always struggled to exist on thin soup and stale crackers, hot tea and weak coffee, now almost couldn’t believe how much food there was in Texas.

      The girls were too busy eating to pay much attention to her. They talked and laughed like a bunch of magpies. Lillian winced at their table manners and their grammar. There would certainly be a lot to teach them to turn them into respectable women.

      Just when she thought she couldn’t eat another bite, here came Delilah with a huge chocolate cake. “I really don’t think—” she began, but Brad ignored her words and gave her a thick slice. “Eat up,” he commanded, “you’re as skinny as a snake.”

      The girls all giggled and smiled at the gambler. Evidently, in their eyes, the rascal could do no wrong.

      “Mr. O’Neal,” she said coldly, “It is quite rude to comment on a lady’s physical—”

      “I’m just worried about your health,” he grinned at her. “After all, if something happens to one of us, the other gets both halves of the Lily. By the way, Lillian seems very stuffy. I think you look more like a Lily.”

      “My name is Lillian, but you may call me Miss Primm.” She kept her voice frosty, which was difficult between bites of the delicious cake. “Mr. O’Neal, we need to talk.”

      “Again? And call me Brad.” Again he gave her a charming, warm smile that was so full of animal magnetism, it made Lillian’s hand shake as she sipped her iced tea. Well, that might work on these young, daffy girls, but she was a mature woman, not easily taken in by some four-flusher.

      The girls had been chattering with each other. Now they all got up and left the table without even asking to be excused or waiting for the host and hostess to get up from the table first. Yes, there was a lot to teach them. They all seemed friendly enough except for Sadie, who had glared at Lillian all through dinner. She seemed to see Lillian as some kind of interloper, competing for the gambler’s attention. As if Lillian would even consider…in her mind, she was naked in his bed and he was kissing her roughly, his big hands pulling her to him—

      “Miss Primm, are you all right? You’re tremblin’.” He was staring at her as if he could read her thoughts.

      She felt blood rush to her face. “It—it’s cold.”

      “Cold? It’s almost June.”

      “Never mind,” she snapped and let out her breath. “Mr. O’Neal,” she said, “after much thought, I have plans for my part of the establishment.”

      “Good.” He wiped his mouth and lay his napkin next to his plate. “Your aunt had a head for business. If we must be partners, I’m glad to hear you’re takin’ an interest.”

      “More than you know.” She smiled at him.

      He shifted in his chair, a bit uneasy. Obviously, he didn’t trust Lillian. “The locksmith sent word he’d be here right after dinner.”

      “Good. I’m pleased to hear that.”

      He leaned toward her and smiled as she took a deep breath. The sheer animal magnetism of the man made her uneasy and she shifted in her chair. “Surely, Miss Lily, you wouldn’t think that I would push myself toward a lady. I am a Texan and I do have some sense of propriety.”

      She snorted. “I doubt you know the meaning of the word.”

      He grinned broadly. “Whatever I lack in formal education, Miss Primm, I’m sure I make up for it in the school of Hard Knocks. I come from a white trash moonshiner’s passel of kids in the Big Thicket.”

      “The what?”

      He tipped his chair back and lit a cigar without even asking her permission. “The Big Thicket. It’s a wild, swampy area in southeast Texas. My Pa was married three or four times and there’s a dozen kids scattered over Texas.”

      Lillian waved her dainty lace hanky before her nose, but he didn’t take the hint. “My family comes from a long lineage of dukes and earls. We were never rich but very respectable. As a matter of fact, I’m hoping to become a member of S.N.O.B.S.”

      “Snobs?”

      “No, you dolt,” she snapped, “Sisters Noble of British Society.”

      He grinned and smoked his cigar. “Sounds like the same thing. I always reckoned a man ought to be judged by his actions, not his ancestry.”

      “In that case, sir, you should probably have been hanged by now.” She gave him a cold look as she stood up. “As I said, I have made a decision.”

      “Good.” Now his smile seemed genuine. “I’ve got a few ideas myself on improvin’ business and—”

      “No, no, Mister O’Neal, you don’t understand. I wasn’t bluffing. I intend to close the upstairs and help these poor, unfortunate girls find husbands or honest work.”

      Brad O’Neal’s dark face went pale and he dropped his cigar in his plate. “What?”

      “You heard me. From now on, the upstairs is off limits to men. I shall go inform the ladies that tonight, we will have classes in my room instead.”

      “Miss Primm, you will ruin my business.”

      “Oh, but I’m not bothering your share, Mr. O’Neal, and remember, I own the upstairs. Good day to you.”

      He was cursing behind her as she walked briskly toward the stairs.