Catch a Shooting Star jd edit 03 12 2012 html by Brianna Lee McKenzie

Don Diego gently touched the corner of his napkin to his lips before he answered in a smooth tone of voice, “I assure you, Miss Star, may I call you Savannah?  After all, we are engaged to be married.”
    Without waiting for her approval, he continued, “I assure you, Savannah, I have every intention of doing with your beloved home what is most appropriate for the occasion.”
    “And what is ‘most appropriate’?” Savannah asked, her hands shaking in anger as she clenched the napkin in her lap.
    The Mexican don took in a long and contemplating breath before he honored her with his answer, “Of, course, there have been many bills that I have had to take over in order for your father to keep Robin’s Glen in the splendor that it has enjoyed.”
    He looked from Savannah to Benjamin, who squirmed in his chair in embarrassment at the concept of being obligated to another man.  With calculated malice, he continued, still staring at the old and broken man, “Don’t you remember our conversation last night, my dear Savannah? That your father has mortgaged your plantation to me in order to finance the many debts that he had accumulated over the years and our engagement is part of that agreement.”
    Savannah narrowed her eyes at the one eyebrow that rose over the Mexican’s callous eyes.  Her indignation growing with his every word, she growled, “I do remember our conversation and the agreement between the two of you.  I am not the ignorant child that you think I am.”
    She kept her eyes trained on Diego as she continued with seething revelation,   “It wouldn’t surprise me that a man such as you would take advantage of an ailing old man in order to placate his need to feel more masculine than he is.”
    She could see the anger cross the Mexican’s face and her heart jumped with delight at getting the best of him.  But, her joy was overtaken by sudden fear when Diego slammed his fist upon the table, causing the glassware to topple and teeter with the vibrations of the varnished wood.
    “If it had not been for me, your precious plantation would be in the hands of strangers right now,” he growled, daring her to argue with him.  Then, in a calm and gentle voice, he continued as if his outburst had never occurred, “And, as I have promised your father, I will keep it in your name as long as you are married to me.”
    Savannah ignored the smile that Diego had plastered upon his otherwise uncaring face.  Quelling her growing temper, she smoothed her napkin in her lap and cleared her throat, saying quietly, “And I do appreciate that.  As long as you keep your promise, I will agree to marry you so that Father will always have his home.”
    “As long as he lives,” Diego agreed, still smiling, but now, addressing the old man.  “He will have a home.”
    Satisfied that an agreement had been established, Savannah finally took up her fork and began to eat.  She said nothing else to Diego or her father for the duration of the meal, only answering in short sentences or merely a curt word when they asked her a question or when they included her in the conversation.
    And that same manner was one that she adopted for the next two days, her resentment at the situation giving her plenty of ammunition for her attitude.  The household gave her room to vent, even Diego left her to her indulgence, for he knew that as soon as she was married to him and they were away from the watchful eyes of her father and her servants, he would teach that little filly how to behave.  He kept to his rooms, taking his meals there and only seeing her in passing, his smile ever-present on his shrewd face.
    And his smile grew even wider when he and Savannah were summoned to the bedside of Benjamin Star.  The Mexican don had hoped that the old man would not last long and that the marriage to the heir to the plantation would be quickly eminent and, as he walked purposefully toward the door of the dying man’s room, he stopped just