Adrianna led the procession of women to the receiving line that had dwindled to a few dozen. Rosa greeted the women graciously, as anticipated, and then watched them amble toward the refreshment tables.
“Are you trying to prove a point?” Lucas asked, his obsidian eyes bearing down on her.
Adrianna elevated her chin. “Of course I am. Do you think I’m an empty-headed moth fluttering from one flame to the next? Those women might not have the advantages I’ve had in life, but they greatly admire Rosa’s sense of style and her willingness to set up a business. Moreover, I do not intend to draw lines that indicate different social classes. The West is supposed to be the place where hard work and ingenuity are more important than pedigrees. Am I right?”
“Oh, good, this is a rally for women’s rights,” came an amused voice from behind her. “I was afraid it might be just a dull wedding reception to honor my friends.”
Quin’s wry amusement transformed into stunned amazement when Boston spun around to greet him. Her stylish emerald-green silk gown swirled around her. The décolleté of the formfitting dress dragged his attention to her full cleavage. Then he yanked up his gaze to notice the sophisticated coiffure that accentuated the sleek column of her neck—where he wanted to place about a half-dozen kisses. For starters.
Gracious! He’d never seen Adrianna in anything except breeches—which was tantalizing enough. Well, there was that faded old gown she’d worn while giving her new home a good scrubbing, he amended. But this! She looked like a regal princess, not the sassy, spirited hellion who had clashed with him repeatedly and heatedly in the past.
Quin wanted to grab her hand, drag her off to a dark corner and devour her with hungry kisses. He suspected he wasn’t the only one, either, for he noticed several men staring admiringly at her. They were all but licking their lips in anticipation of having her to themselves for a few steamy moments.
“Cahill, so glad you could finally make it,” she greeted.
When she smiled, it set off an explosion of lust that he’d been battling for days. His silent pep talks to discard erotic thoughts of Boston hadn’t worked worth a damn. Nothing smothered his tantalizing memories of her.
She glanced this way and that. “Where’s Elda? You’re late and she is likely upset because it’s her mission in life to oversee events involving food.”
Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed in the approaching cloud bank. Boston frowned at the sky, as if daring the storm to disrupt her party. Quin bit back a grin and thought Mother Nature had best not tangle with the strong-willed firebrand in emerald green. Mother Nature might lose.
“I don’t know where Elda is now but I can tell you where she’s been.” Rosa gestured toward the table where several cakes and pastries had appeared.
It had taken Quin an extra half hour to load the desserts Elda had been cooking for the past two days. And believe it, the red-haired cook was fussy about transporting her desserts properly so they wouldn’t be damaged!
Adrianna’s laughter filled the empty spaces in the region of Quin’s heart as she turned dancing green eyes back to him. “Let me guess, Elda turned your kitchen into a bakery and you were not allowed within five feet of the door for fear you might cause her cakes and pastries to collapse.”
He nodded, smiled stupidly—and didn’t care that he had. “I’ve lived on hardtack and johnnycakes for two days,” he reported. “I’m thinking of sending her back to you.”
When the band struck up a tune, Rosa grabbed Lucas’s hand and towed him away. Dog, decked out in his sparkling bow tie, trailed after them.
“Burnett has been dreading this dance since you scheduled your party,” Quin confided. “He doesn’t like limelight.”
“He will just have to get over it because the first dance is always reserved for newlyweds,” Adrianna remarked, then grinned impishly. “Small consolation for the grand prize of Rosa’s everlasting affection, if you ask me. She and I lost faith in men until Lucas came along. Which goes to prove, I suppose, there is no logical explanation for affairs of the heart. Now, I’m forced to share her companionship with that brawny ex–Ranger and his wolf dog.”
There it was again, Quin mused, that staunch declaration that Boston needed no man to make her life complete. He certainly hadn’t needed a woman, not with his rigorous schedule and endless duties to keep 4C running efficiently.
But still…sometimes at night,