To Wear His Ring: Circle of Gold / Trophy Wives / Dakota Bride. Wendy Warren

brought it home for them yesterday,” he commented, “and forgot to give it to them. They love books.”

      “That’s the first step to getting them to love reading,” she said, smiling at the little heads bowed over the books. “Reading to them at night keeps it going.”

      “Did your mother read to you?” he asked curiously.

      “She probably did,” she mused, smiling sadly. “But Kantor and I were very young when she and our father…died. Mama Luke read to us, when we were older.”

      “I suppose you liked science fiction,” he murmured.

      “How did you know?” she asked.

      “You love computers,” he said with a hint of a smile.

      “I guess they do fit in with science fiction,” she had to admit. She eyed him curiously. “What sort of books did you like to read?”

      “Pirate stories, cowboy stories. Stuff like that. Now, it’s genetics textbooks and management theory,” he added wryly. “I hardly ever have time to read just for fun.”

      “Do your parents help you with the ranch?”

      He seemed to turn to ice. “We don’t talk about our parents,” he said stiffly.

      That sounded odd. But she was already in his bad book, so she didn’t pursue it. “It’s nice of you to take the girls to the movies.”

      He slowed for a turn, his expression taut. “I don’t spend enough time with them,” he said. “You were right about that. It isn’t a lack of love. It’s a lack of delegation. You’d be amazed how hard it is to find good managers who want to live on a cattle ranch.”

      “Maybe you don’t advertise in a wide enough range,” she suggested gently.

      “What?”

      She plunged ahead. “There are all sorts of trade magazines that carry ads with blind mailboxes,” she said. “You can have replies sent to the newspaper and nobody has to know who you are.”

      “How do you know about the trade magazines?” he asked.

      She grinned sheepishly. “I read them. Well, I ought to know something about cattle, since I work for a ranch, shouldn’t I?”

      He shook his head. “You really are full of surprises, Kasie.”

      “Kasie, what’s this big word?” Bess asked, thrusting the book at her. Kasie took it and sounded the word out phonetically, coaching the little girl in its pronunciation. She took the book back and began to teach the word to Jenny.

      “You’re patient,” Gil remarked. “I notice that Miss Parsons doesn’t like taking time to teach them words.”

      “Miss Parsons likes numbers.”

      “Yes. She does.” He pulled into the theater parking lot, which was full of parents and children. He got everyone out and locked the door, grimacing as they walked past several minivans.

      “They’re handy for little kids,” Kasie said wickedly. “Mothers love them, I’m told.”

      “I love my kids, but I’m not driving a damned minivan,” he muttered.

      She grinned at his expression. The little girls ran to get in line, and struck up a conversation with a child they knew, whose bored mother perked up when she saw Gil approaching.

      “Hi, Gil!” she called cheerily. “We’re going to see the dinosaur movie! Is that why you’re here?”

      “That’s the one,” he replied, pulling bills out of his wallet. He gave one to each of the little girls, and they bought their own tickets. Gil bought his and Kasie’s as they came to the window. “Hi, Amie,” he called to the little girl with Bess and Jenny, and he smiled. She smiled back. She was as dark as his children were fair, with black eyes and hair like her mother’s.

      “We’re going to sit with Amie, Daddy!” Bess said excitedly, waving her ticket and Jenny’s.

      “I guess that leaves me with you and…?” the other woman paused deliberately.

      “This is Kasie,” Gil said, and took her unexpectedly by the arm, with a bland smile at Amie’s mom. “You’re welcome to join us, of course, Connie.”

      The other woman sighed. “No, I guess I’ll sit with the girls. Nice to have seen you,” she added, and moved ahead with the girls, looking bored all over again.

      Gil slid his hand down into Kasie’s. She reacted nervously to the unexpected touch, but his fingers clung, warm and strong against her own. He drew her along to the line already forming alongside the velvet ropes as the ticket takers prepared to let people through to the various theaters.

      “Humor me,” he said, and it looked as though he were whispering sweet nothings into her ear. “I’m the entrée, in case you haven’t noticed.”

      Kasie glanced around and saw a number of women with little children and no man along, and two of them gave him deliberate, wistful glances and smiled.

      “Single moms?” she whispered back, having to go on tiptoe.

      He caught her around the waist and held her against his hip. “No. Get the picture?”

      Her breath caught. “Oh, dear,” she said heavily.

      He looked down into her wide eyes. “You’re such a child sometimes,” he said softly. “You don’t see ugliness, do you? You go through life looking for rainbows instead of rain.”

      “Habit,” she murmured, fascinated by the pale blue lights in his eyes.

      “It’s a rather nice habit,” he replied. The look lasted just a few seconds too long to be polite, and Kasie felt her heart begin to race. But then, the line shifted and diverted him. He moved closer to the ticket-taker, keeping the girls ahead carefully in sight while his arm drew Kasie along with him.

      She liked the protectiveness of that muscular arm. He didn’t look like a body-builder, all his movements were lithe and graceful. But he worked at physical labor from dawn until dusk most days. She’d seen him throw calves that had to be doctored. She’d seen him throw bulls, too. He was strong. Involuntarily she relaxed against him. It was delicious, the feeling of security it gave her to be close to him, to the warm strength of him.

      The soft movement caught him off guard and sent a jolt of sensation through him that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He looked down at her with curious, turbulent eyes that she didn’t see. She was smiling and waving at the girls, who were darting off down into the theater with the little girl and her mother.

      “They like you,” he said.

      “I like them.”

      He handed their tickets to the uniformed girl, who smiled as she handed back the stubs and pointed the way to the theater that was showing the cartoon movie.

      Gil caught Kasie’s hand in his and drew her lazily along with him through the crowd of children and parents until they reached the theater. But instead of going down to the front, he drew Kasie to an isolated double-seat in the very back row and sat down beside her. His arm went over the back of the chair as the theater darkened and the previews began showing.

      Kasie was electrified by the shift in their relationship. She felt his lean fingers on her shoulder, bringing her closer, and his cheek rested against her temple. She hadn’t ever been to a movie with a man. There had been a blind double date once, and the boy sat on his own side of the seat and looked nervous until they got home again. This was worlds away from that experience.

      “Comfortable?” he asked at her ear, and his voice was like velvet.

      “Yes,” she said unsteadily.

      His chest rose and fell and he found himself paying a lot more attention to the feel of Kasie’s soft hair against his skin than the movie.