Having The Cowboy's Baby. Stella Bagwell

he’d pitch a fit if someone tried to manipulate him as this old man was doing. But he liked Jules. And a man would have to be crazy or half-dead not to want to spend time with a woman like Anne-Marie. It might be tricky to keep everything between them light and fun, he thought with a grain of concern, but he was damn well going to try.

      Jules let out a mocking snort. “Don’t worry about that. The last time Anne-Marie went out for entertainment, I still had black hair.”

      Anne-Marie gasped. “Father! Really! Cordero didn’t come up here to get involved in our personal lives. And frankly—”

      Jules interrupted her in a voice that had suddenly gone hoarse and weak. “I’m tired. I need to get back in bed. You take Cordero on home and I’ll talk to you about this tomorrow. “

      Anne-Marie wanted to argue, but with her father looking so weary she bit her tongue and decided it would keep until later. After all, Cordero had already planned to stay at Cane’s Landing for the coming week. Maybe one night of solitude, without her father around to entertain him, would make the man change his mind and head on back to Texas. No doubt Cordero had a bevy of girlfriends waiting there for him.

      She sighed. “All right, Father. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

      After she kissed his cheek and Cordero shook Jules’s hand, they headed down the hospital corridor. When they were safely out of earshot, Anne-Marie whirled on Cordero.

      “Why did you do that?” she asked through clenched teeth. “Why did you let him hire you like some common gigolo?”

      His green eyes darkened to the color of a dangerous swamp and a muscle jumped in his clenched jaw. The anger on his face was a tangible thing and she swallowed hard as she eased a couple of steps back from him.

      “Is that what you think?” He growled out the question. “That I hire myself out to pitiful spinsters who can’t find themselves a man?”

      Anne-Marie’s nostrils flared as her temper shot straight to the top of her head. “Is that what you think I am? A pitiful spinster?” She heaved out a breath as she glanced frantically around to make sure no one was nearby. “Look, cowboy, I don’t have to pay for a companion! Furthermore, I don’t want one! Especially not the likes of you!”

      He didn’t say anything. Instead, he grabbed her by the arm and led her firmly toward the elevator. Once they stepped inside the cubicle, Anne-Marie prayed for someone, anyone, to join them, but the doors swished shut and the two of them were left alone.

      Bracing herself for a volley of insults, she watched him push the button for the ground floor. But once the elevator stirred into motion, he surprised her by remaining stubbornly silent.

      “What’s the matter?” she finally asked in a sardonic voice. “Are you shocked that I’m not falling in a worshipful heap at your feet?”

      “No. I’m just waiting for the right moment to shut you up,” he said with cool casualness. “And I think I’ve found it.”

      Jerking her head up to his, she opened her mouth to blast him with another retort. Instead, a silent O formed on her lips and she watched in shocked fascination as his head swooped toward hers.

      Anne-Marie’s dazed hesitation caused her to miss the chance to turn her head and gave him the perfect opportunity to plant his lips over hers.

      She was so stunned by the intimate contact that she went stock-still. Her heart and lungs felt as though they’d stopped working as his mouth made a quick, thorough search of hers.

      From somewhere inside her, heat rose up to scald the roots of her hair and scorch her cheeks. With each passing second, her knees grew weaker. She was about to grab onto the front of his shirt to keep from falling when he jerked up his head and gave her a cutting stare.

      She said in a tight, low voice, “Whatever was said between you and my father—this wasn’t part of the deal!”

      His black brows lifted to become two sardonic arches. “What makes you think you’d even be worth a deal?”

      Her mind spun. She searched for the most ridiculing words she could find to hurl at him. But she didn’t have to bother coming up with anything. The elevator doors opened and she marched out of the cubicle without him.

      Behind her, she heard him chuckling and the cruel sound had her biting down on her swollen lip and blinking back tears. Damn the man. He wasn’t worth crying over. No man was. Still, she couldn’t stop one lone teardrop from rolling down her cheek.

      She was in the foyer when, from behind, a pair of hands snaked around her waist. A gasp rushed past her lips as she spun around to face him.

      “Let me go! Haven’t you insulted me enough for one night?” Her words were pushed through clenched teeth as she tried to wriggle away from his grasp.

      “Hold on a minute, Anne-Marie.”

      His voice was soft and threaded with regret. The sound stilled her and brought her eyes up to his.

      He hurriedly tried to explain. “You’ve jumped to the wrong conclusions. Your father didn’t hire me for anything. Jules is my friend. I only agreed to stay and help you with the horses because he asked me to. I agreed as a favor to him.”

      The grip he had on her waist eased to a warm clasp and Anne-Marie knew she was a fool for responding to it. But she’d never met a man like him before. One that could make her feel fury and passion all at the same time. It was scary.

      “I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “I shouldn’t have said any of those things to you. But this is all so—embarrassing. My father—it’s obvious he’s trying to manipulate us and I thought you’d agreed to go along with him.”

      Regret twisted his lips. “Forgive me, Anne-Marie. I shouldn’t have reacted the way that I did. But I don’t take too kindly to being called a gigolo.”

      Mortified all over again, Anne-Marie dropped her gaze to the floor. “Believe me, Cordero, I don’t normally say that sort of thing to anyone. But Father has never put me in such an awkward situation before. I really don’t know what he’s thinking—I’m even beginning to worry that he’s getting senile.”

      Cordero could have told her that there wasn’t anything senile about Jules’s mind. Calculating would be more like it, he thought wryly. But as far as he was concerned, the old man’s manipulating was harmless. Even though that kiss he’d stolen in the elevator had jolted him right down to the heels of his boots, Cordero needed to make Anne-Marie see that she was taking this much too seriously.

      “Look, Anne-Marie, we both need to take a deep breath and start over. There’s really no need to make an issue out of this. Even if Jules is trying to maneuver us—we’re adults, we can see through it. It won’t hurt either of us to indulge a sick old man and pretend we’re having a good time together these next few days.” His hands slid gently down her forearms and the act was like brushing his fingers against a bird’s wing. He’d never felt anything so soft, so fragile. “I have a feeling it would make him happy.”

      Anne-Marie didn’t know what to make of his words. Confusion warred with the indignation she was already feeling toward this Texas cowboy who had kissed her as if he owned her. But perhaps he was right. She didn’t want to put any undue stress on her father. And just because he was trying to throw her at Cordero didn’t mean she had to fall into the cowboy’s arms.

      She drew in a troubled breath, then let it out. “I suppose you’re right. But all that talk about taking you to Bourbon Street—that has nothing to do with you helping me with the horses. It was so obvious and humiliating.”

      Cordero suddenly grinned and she felt her stomach flutter as though she’d just swallowed a hummingbird.

      “Actually, I thought your father’s idea was a good one. I’d like for the two of us to make a trip to New Orleans. I’d planned on going anyway before I left for Texas and it would be far more enjoyable to have your company.”