The Gunfighter and the Heiress - By Carol Finch Page 0,17
that gave other men pause. Bart was not. There was one clear choice. Plus, she had told herself from the onset that Crow could name his price and she would pay it. Still, it was the principle of the matter.
Natalie huffed out her breath. “Fine. I’m sticking with our original arrangement…except I insist upon receiving the self-defense lessons you gave Bart. That, of course, will be included in the two thousand dollars you demand.”
He smirked. “That will cost you another thousand, but I don’t have time for extensive lessons. Bart is gathering information about other job offers as we speak. If I train you, you’d have to learn fast.”
“I will be your devoted pupil,” she pledged solemnly. “I do not intend to set off on my great adventure and get killed immediately. I can use all the pointers I can get.”
“More coffee, ma’am? Mr. Crow?” the waiter asked politely as he hovered beside the table.
Van nodded, then waited for the man to walk off. “Bart can teach you what I won’t have time to do. He learned well. In fact, he delights in having someone pick a fight with him these days so he can sharpen his skills in hand-to-hand combat and with a variety of weapons. He might work cheaper.”
She braced her forearms on the table, leaned toward him and said, “I want to be competent in the wilds because I won’t have a personal bodyguard watching my back. I want you to teach me. After last night, I don’t think that is asking so much in return.”
He stared straight at her, watching her face go up in flames. “You mean because I partially undressed you so you could sleep comfortably without wrinkling your dress?”
He didn’t think her face could turn a deeper shade of red. He was wrong.
“No. Not that. The other thing,” she said, then cleared her throat and fidgeted in her chair.
“What other thing?”
She rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Do not make this more difficult than it already is. You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Was it so uneventful that you have forgotten?” she huffed in offended dignity.
He leaned toward her and said quietly, “What in the hell are you talking about?”
She blushed ten shades of red. “Consummating the marriage,” she hissed between gritted teeth.
Van barked a laugh that called too much attention to their corner table and earned him another of Natalie’s annoyed glares. “You’ve misjudged me, sunshine. I find no pleasure in dallying with unresponsive women. There’s no give-and-take involved in that.” He stared straight at her. “You don’t remember much about what we said and did last night, do you?”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t. But if nothing happened, then what did the yellow rose signify?”
Van shifted awkwardly in his chair. “I don’t know. You just looked so…so…beautiful lying in my bed.” Damn, he felt self-conscious. He’d never had a conversation like this one before. “I just…hell, I don’t know.”
She settled back in her chair and flashed such a breathtaking smile that it would have knocked his knees out from under him if he’d been standing.
“That is the sweetest thing a man has ever said to me.”
“Doubt it.” He dived back into his meal and prayed for blessed silence. He should have known better with her.
“After lunch I’ll make the arrangements for refreshments and look up the justice of the peace to preside over the ceremony in the park.”
“Fine, but I already spoke to the marshal about cordoning off the park. I contacted local bartenders about delivering drinks. You can speak to all the café owners about food so we don’t leave anyone out…” He glanced at her guiltily. “I didn’t mean to take over for you. But if you’re determined to get hitched tomorrow, arrangements needed to be made immediately.”
“No offense taken. I’ll have plenty of decisions to make myself when I’m in the wilderness.”
He tried to picture her venturing off into the frontier without a clue of what to expect from two-legged and four-legged predators. The woman was insane to think she could survive alone. Van had years of practical experience under his belt. He still ended up in precarious scrapes occasionally. Maybe he did need to spare the time to instruct her. Otherwise, he’d feel guilty if this lovely tenderfoot met with trouble—and she would. It was inevitable in this part of the country.
“Listen, sunshine, I’ve decided to offer survival lessons. For five hundred. Just the basics.”
“You are too generous, Mr. Crow,” she said caustically.