right. She couldn’t have said what he thought she said. “Married? You—and me?”
She nodded.
Married? Somebody had to be playing a joke. Beekman. He started to laugh, but the sound died in his throat. The look in her eyes told him she was dead serious.
Chapter 5
Looking furious enough to hit somebody, the man yanked the hat from his head and crushed it between his hands. “Lady, I think we ought to have a talk.”
Kathleen swallowed and took a step backward. Tanner Blaine, or whoever he was, for she certainly had her doubts, was the biggest man she had ever seen. And although handsome in a wild, rugged sort of way, he was also most disreputable in appearance. His faded pants bore patches, and his coat showed frayed strands of cloth along the edges of the sleeves.
His hair, black as the devil’s heart, hung straight to his shoulders, much too long to be fashionable. His eyes like cold, dark steel were narrowed. Above a square chin and shadowy growth of whiskers, his mouth appeared set and stubborn.
She shook her head. This had to be some sort of cruel prank. He couldn’t be her intended.
“If you’re through gawking, we need to have a talk.”
“A t-talk?”
He glared at the curious desk clerk, who blanched and found something to do at the other end of the counter.
“Somewhere private. Your room?” he suggested.
“No!” She could not—would not—allow the man in her room, even if she still had one, which she didn’t. Just the idea of being alone with him filled her with terror. “Somewhere... outside?” she said, quickly dispelling any notion he might have that she had anything of that sort in mind.
“Outside it is.”
She could have sworn he almost smiled, but decided she’d probably imagined it.
He strode ahead of her, not even allowing her to precede him through the hotel doorway, making it clear to her and anybody else that might be watching that Tanner Blaine made no claims on being a gentleman.
He took up a position smack in the middle of the wrought-iron and wood bench that sat a short distance from the hotel entrance. Extending his long legs out onto the boardwalk, with a calloused hand he patted the seat beside him. “I don’t bite.”
Not so certain, Kathleen spread her skirts and took a position as far away from him as she could manage. To hide her nervousness, she folded her hands in her lap. Good breeding had carried her through the Yankee occupation of Georgia. She had no doubt it would see her through a conversation with this backwoods lout.
“All right, Miss De— De—” He paused. “Hell, what was that again?”
“Deveraux. Kathleen Amanda Deveraux.”
His hand closed over and swallowed hers. “That’s quite a mouthful for a country boy. If it’s all the same to you, I’ll call you Kate—especially since we’re supposed to be betrothed and all.”
“Sir, I haven’t given you leave to call me anything.” She tugged her hand free. “And I haven’t been called Kate since I was a child.”
“Well, you don’t look all that old now.” He crossed his arms and gave her the once-over. “You look to be just about right—for the things I have in mind.”
Heat rose to flood her cheeks. “Mister Blaine...”
“Don’t be so stuffy, Kate. You can call me Tanner. That only seems fittin’, us being so close and all.” He grinned, flashing her a mouthful of white, even teeth.
She didn’t find his expression comforting. She felt like a bird about to be eaten by a very large cat. “You don’t seem to be taking this seriously.”
His grin grew even broader. “Should I? Do you?”
“I wouldn’t have come all this way if I hadn’t.”
The smile left his face. “Yeah. That’s right. You mentioned something about a letter, and Georgia.”
“The letter. Of course.” She rummaged in her reticule. “Here it is.” She carefully took out an envelope, unfolded it and held it toward him. “You can see it has your
She nodded.
Married? Somebody had to be playing a joke. Beekman. He started to laugh, but the sound died in his throat. The look in her eyes told him she was dead serious.
Chapter 5
Looking furious enough to hit somebody, the man yanked the hat from his head and crushed it between his hands. “Lady, I think we ought to have a talk.”
Kathleen swallowed and took a step backward. Tanner Blaine, or whoever he was, for she certainly had her doubts, was the biggest man she had ever seen. And although handsome in a wild, rugged sort of way, he was also most disreputable in appearance. His faded pants bore patches, and his coat showed frayed strands of cloth along the edges of the sleeves.
His hair, black as the devil’s heart, hung straight to his shoulders, much too long to be fashionable. His eyes like cold, dark steel were narrowed. Above a square chin and shadowy growth of whiskers, his mouth appeared set and stubborn.
She shook her head. This had to be some sort of cruel prank. He couldn’t be her intended.
“If you’re through gawking, we need to have a talk.”
“A t-talk?”
He glared at the curious desk clerk, who blanched and found something to do at the other end of the counter.
“Somewhere private. Your room?” he suggested.
“No!” She could not—would not—allow the man in her room, even if she still had one, which she didn’t. Just the idea of being alone with him filled her with terror. “Somewhere... outside?” she said, quickly dispelling any notion he might have that she had anything of that sort in mind.
“Outside it is.”
She could have sworn he almost smiled, but decided she’d probably imagined it.
He strode ahead of her, not even allowing her to precede him through the hotel doorway, making it clear to her and anybody else that might be watching that Tanner Blaine made no claims on being a gentleman.
He took up a position smack in the middle of the wrought-iron and wood bench that sat a short distance from the hotel entrance. Extending his long legs out onto the boardwalk, with a calloused hand he patted the seat beside him. “I don’t bite.”
Not so certain, Kathleen spread her skirts and took a position as far away from him as she could manage. To hide her nervousness, she folded her hands in her lap. Good breeding had carried her through the Yankee occupation of Georgia. She had no doubt it would see her through a conversation with this backwoods lout.
“All right, Miss De— De—” He paused. “Hell, what was that again?”
“Deveraux. Kathleen Amanda Deveraux.”
His hand closed over and swallowed hers. “That’s quite a mouthful for a country boy. If it’s all the same to you, I’ll call you Kate—especially since we’re supposed to be betrothed and all.”
“Sir, I haven’t given you leave to call me anything.” She tugged her hand free. “And I haven’t been called Kate since I was a child.”
“Well, you don’t look all that old now.” He crossed his arms and gave her the once-over. “You look to be just about right—for the things I have in mind.”
Heat rose to flood her cheeks. “Mister Blaine...”
“Don’t be so stuffy, Kate. You can call me Tanner. That only seems fittin’, us being so close and all.” He grinned, flashing her a mouthful of white, even teeth.
She didn’t find his expression comforting. She felt like a bird about to be eaten by a very large cat. “You don’t seem to be taking this seriously.”
His grin grew even broader. “Should I? Do you?”
“I wouldn’t have come all this way if I hadn’t.”
The smile left his face. “Yeah. That’s right. You mentioned something about a letter, and Georgia.”
“The letter. Of course.” She rummaged in her reticule. “Here it is.” She carefully took out an envelope, unfolded it and held it toward him. “You can see it has your
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