Cowboy Enchantment - By Pamela Browning Page 0,41

longer see Hank and Lizette, and she wondered if they had taken the path to the right, which led to the oasis hot pool, or to the left, which would bring them to the guest quarters. Lizette had said she was a guest at the ranch.

Chuck was assessing Erica with interest. His eyes lingered first on her breasts, then on her lips. At one time she might have responded to him, but now that she’d met the perfect cowboy, she couldn’t muster the effort to encourage the not-so-perfect cowboy. Not that Chuck was unattractive, far from it. But his pale hair, blue eyes and ruddy complexion weren’t nearly as exciting to her as Hank’s dark good looks.

Nevertheless, he was smiling expectantly. “Want to dance?”

With Hank’s swift apology and retreat still ringing in her ears, she was too numb to think of a way to turn Chuck down without hurting his feelings. And before she knew it, she was being led into a large circle of people and the caller was explaining the dance. She was so distracted that she had trouble focusing, but Chuck was kind and forgiving of her missteps.

She wished she had known that Hank had a girlfriend, but would it have made a difference in how she felt about him? Probably not. She would never have dreamed that Hank would be interested in someone so hard-edged. Someone so much like herself.

But she was different now. She was beginning to feel embarrassed about her former attitude, her brusqueness, her lack of interest in anything but her job. There was a whole world out here, one she had only dreamed about, and she was fitting into it so well that she could hardly recall what she had found so compelling about her way of life.

Chuck held Erica close for a moment after the last dance was over, and she knew that the hug was the prelude to an advance. She immediately pulled away. He accepted her rejection with good humor and moved on to the bar, where he sat down next to someone who seemed to welcome his attentions.

“Come with us,” called Shannon, who was on the arm of a cowboy that Erica didn’t recognize. Natalie was with Sal, batting adoring eyes up at him.

“Sorry, but I’m going back to my suite.”

“Aw, c’mon, we’re going to party for a while longer,” said Sal.

“I’m not in the mood. See you tomorrow.”

Hiding her misery as well as she could, Erica slipped out of the rec hall. From the banter of the people who were leaving the building at the same time, she gathered that some of them were driving over the Nevada border into Sonoco. It was not a jaunt that appealed to her, especially in her present frame of mind.

She pulled her sweater closer around her shoulders and started out alone for Desert Rose, mindful that things could have been so different. On her way through the palm grove, she heard the murmurings of an amorous couple near the oasis hot pool. The woman laughed, a provocative sound, and then there was only silence. Erica veered away, choosing another path toward her quarters. What if that was Hank with Lizette? If that was who it was, she didn’t want to know.

As she approached Desert Rose, she realized she couldn’t face the empty rooms yet. Earlier she’d been anticipating meeting Hank there, and now that he was out of the picture, she didn’t want to be alone. Was she angry with him? Oh, yes. He’d led her on. Still, she had come on strong. Perhaps she’d misread his signals, though she was sure he’d never given her so much as a hint that he had a girlfriend. To his credit, when Lizette showed up, he’d first looked astonished, then annoyed. In the end, however, he had introduced them rapidly and hustled Lizette away with hardly a backward glance.

As she looked toward the Big House and saw no lights in the windows, she thought how good it would be to indulge in a session of girl talk with Justine. But it was too late to go visiting, and since she was mindful of the tension between Justine and Hank, it wouldn’t be right to take Justine into her confidence.

Yet she was too restless, too upset to call it a night. There didn’t seem to be anyone else who wasn’t otherwise occupied on this night when she wanted—no, needed—some company so she wouldn’t get more depressed than she already was.

Her thoughts turned to