Cowboy Enchantment - By Pamela Browning Page 0,42
the horses—Melba, Whip, Sebastian and those she didn’t know yet. Visiting them would give her something to do. Horses accepted people for who they were. They didn’t judge or gossip. And they didn’t run off with girlfriends you didn’t know they had.
She let herself into her suite, exchanged the red skirt for a pair of jeans and threw a warm jacket over her blouse to ward off the chill. Then she headed for the stable, bringing herself to an abrupt halt when she remembered that Hank’s apartment was located at one end of the building. She had no desire to run into him so soon after he’d ditched her.
After she’d thought about it for a few seconds, she shrugged and made herself move forward. Considering the fact that he had walked off with Lizette, Hank probably wouldn’t be in his own apartment tonight, anyway.
“I’VE BEEN HOPPING on and off planes all day long to get to this godforsaken place,” Lizette said to Hank as she tossed her Gucci bag onto the couch in her suite in Sagebrush, the building right next to Desert Rose. Hank thought longingly of Erica back on the porch and how her eyes had widened in dismay at the sight of Lizette, who’d arrived wearing a black wool turtleneck sweater, a long black skirt and black high-heeled boots—all very New York. Once upon a time in a different life he had considered such a getup sexy. Now Lizette merely looked overheated and uncomfortable.
“I was lucky to get this suite—the previous guest had to rush home to take care of her daughter, who came down with the flu. There’s a lot of flu going around these days. Two people in my Life Strategy class were out with it this week.” She yawned and tucked the front strands of her sleek, squared-off black bob behind her ears. “Do me a favor, Henry. Pour me a drink from that flask in my tote while I change into something more comfortable.”
After Lizette went into the bedroom, Hank found the scotch, opened a bottle of soda from the minibar and mixed Lizette’s drink. He also mixed one for himself—a very stiff one.
Hank had already downed most of his drink before Lizette appeared in the doorway.
“Lovey bunny, aren’t you glad to see me?”
“I wasn’t expecting you,” he said more than a tad ungraciously.
She glided over to him in high-heeled mules trimmed with maribou. The negligee she wore was almost transparent.
She accepted her drink from his outstretched hand. “Let’s lie down on the bed for a while, shall we? I’m really tired.”
Unwillingly he followed her into the bedroom and watched Lizette drape herself dramatically across the bed pillows and pat the comforter beside her. “Right here, Henry. Close enough to kiss.” She smiled invitingly, and he realized that he had not kissed her hello. Nor did he want to.
He sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, preparing to extricate himself from this situation. The dance was over, and Erica would be walking home through the palm grove, perhaps alone. He hoped she was alone, though he felt guilty for wishing that. He’d noticed Chuck giving her the eye while they were dancing. Of course, Erica wasn’t his woman. She could have been his woman for the night, though. He was fairly confident of that.
“Henry? Aren’t you listening?”
He stood. “No, I’m not. Lizette, I’m really tired. Perhaps we should both get some rest and deal with this tomorrow.”
She sat straight up. “Deal with what tomorrow?”
“With…everything,” he said.
Her eyes were a sort of amber color. They would have been pretty if they hadn’t been shooting yellow sparks. Lizette was hopping mad.
“I came all the way here to see you and you aren’t going to spend the night with me?”
“Lizette—”
She let out a sigh of exasperation. “All right, Henry. I’m tired, too. I’ll feel better after I get my beauty sleep.”
Feeling a wash of relief, he turned to make tracks for the door.
“Oh, by the way, I’ll see you on your trail ride tomorrow afternoon. I signed up when I checked in.”
He’d almost forgotten he was supposed to lead that ride tomorrow. He didn’t want Lizette on it, not by a long shot. There wasn’t much he could do about it, though, if she had already signed up.
“Good night, Lizette.” Before she could say anything more, he set his glass firmly on the minibar and let himself out the door. The air outside was fresh and cool, and he inhaled deeply of it. It made