Tomorrow's Dreams by Heather Cullman Page A

unmistakable. Stunned, she slowly sank down next to him.
    Damn! Of all the people in the world, why did it have to be Seth who had discovered her in such a disreputable place, performing in such a bawdy show? Too shocked by his presence to mask her dismay, she blurted out, “What are you doing here?”
    â€œShouldn’t that be my line?” he drawled, shifting aside to allow a scantily-clad saloon girl and her eager client to pass.
    â€œWhat I’m doing here should be obvious,” she replied tautly.
    â€œYou’re doing the obvious?” He stared after the pair with a significant lift of his brow.
    It took all of Penelope’s self-control not to do a repeat performance and jab him in the belly again. “Damn it, Seth! You know better than that!”
    â€œDo I?” His gaze slowly and deliberately took in every tawdry detail of her appearance.
    Bristling like a cat with its back up, she hissed, “How dare you insinuate that I’d—”
    â€œI dare because I know you,” he snapped, effectively silencing her protests. “Have you forgotten about the little scene I witnessed in New York?”
    Penelope released an exasperated snort. Apparently the words forgive and forget weren’t in Seth Tyler’s vocabulary, just as it was equally apparent that he hadn’t come to his senses about what had happened in New York. She snorted again. Well, to hell with the narrow-minded bastard! If he wanted to hold a grudge, then so be it. She’d gladly oblige his stupidity and do the same.
    Calling forth all of her acting ability, she assumed an air of imperious cool and retorted, “You have no right to judge me on something that you’re obviously incapable of understanding.”
    He eyed her with disdain. “I’m perfectly capable of understanding what’s going on when I find a half-naked woman lolling in a man’s arms. I’d venture to guess that the foregone conclusion would be the same no matter who was drawing it.”
    Abandoning all pretense of composure, she practically shouted, “I wasn’t half-naked, and I certainly wasn’t—lolling!”
    He shrugged. “You have your definitions, and I have mine.”
    â€œAnd my definition of Seth Tyler is arrogant bastard.”
    â€œIs that listed before or after the term ‘trash’?” he inquired cryptically. “I believe that was the word you used to describe my person the last time we met.”
    â€œWell, if the title fits …”
    Seth laughed at that. “Touché. One point for the lady.”
    â€œOne point for what?”
    â€œOne point for your frank response, of course.”
    She shrugged dismissively. “Who’s keeping score?”
    â€œI am. And I feel obligated to report that you’re running woefully behind in the honesty column.”
    A thousand scathing retorts sprang to Penelope’s lips, but she firmly refrained from voicing them. It would be a cold day in hell before she rose to Seth Tyler’s bait. Pointedly ignoring his goading expression, she demanded, “What do you want? Surely you have better things to do than torment me.”
    â€œBetter things? Yes. More entertaining? No.”
    Rankled by his arrogance, she opened her mouth to tell him exactly what he could do with his amusement, but again she stifled the urge. Instead she repeated, “What do you want?”
    â€œI want to know why you lied to your brother.”
    â€œWhy I … what?” she asked, genuinely taken aback by his words. “I didn’t lie to Jake.”
    Seth raised one slashing eyebrow. “He showed me your last letter, the one where you were bragging about going abroad and singing for the crowned heads of Europe. You said that you’d be touring the Continent and therefore unable to write. So unless the Colorado Territory has been annexed by Europe and crowned a few heads in the process, I think