Deborah Camp by Tender Kisses Tough Talk

establishment and I can’t have that kind of woman here. You’ll have to tell her you made a mistake and she must leave.”
    “I didn’t make a mistake. Did you hear any complaints from your customers? No, because they were too busy shoveling her food down their gullets. She beats that other cook of yours all to hell, so why would you want to fire her?”
    “You know why. She is a … a soiled dove.”
    Reno rolled his eyes. “Will you listen to yourself?” He stepped closer, and she flattened herself against the door. “I should think you’d be the first one in town to offer your help to the downtrodden.” He pointed behind her. “That woman out there was desperate to leave her life as a
soiled dove
. I offered her a way out and she took it. I thought you’d be happy to lend her a hand. If you don’t approve of the work they do, then you should be eager to do what you can to get them out of that business.”
    He was making sense. She hated that. “Naturally I want to help if I can, but what if it gets around that she was once a … a lady of the evening? What will the customers think about that?”
    Reno made an off-hand gesture. “Most of your customers are passing through town and couldn’t care less about who is cooking up the vittles in the back room. Come on, Dellie, give Mrs. McDonald a chance.” He grinned and gave her a sly wink. “She’s a big improvement over that dog-faced crone.”
    Adele ducked her head to hide her smile. She didn’t want him to think all was forgiven. “That’s true, but from now on I won’t allow you to hire and fire anyone at this restaurant. I am the manager of this place, not you.”
    “I was only doing what you told me to do.”
    “Yes, I know.” She edged away from the door and walked past him, pausing on the threshold of her bedroom. “Why have you placed your belongings in my room?”
    He rubbed his jaw, baffled. “Where else would I have placed them?”
    “Not in my room, I assure you.” She gave a flick of her wrist. “You’ll have to remove them. I have secured quarters for you out back in that shed. It used to be for … well, for servants who—”
    “For the slaves,” he finished, folding his arms against his broad chest and pinning her with a dark scowl.
    “Yes, that’s right. A good sweeping out and it will be fine. I’ll put a cot in there and—”
    “No, thanks. I’ll sleep in there.” He nodded at the room behind her.
    Adele glanced over her shoulder, then whipped back around to face him. “In my bedroom? No, you’ll sleep out back.”
    He shook his head. “I’ll sleep with you. That bedis plenty big enough for two if we cuddle real close.”
    An image of the two of them wrapped in each other’s arms in her narrow bed flashed in her mind and sent a quiver of awareness through her. Adele closed her eyes tightly for a moment to ward off the vision.
    “Reno, you know quite well that I have no intention of being intimate with you. I think now is a good time to establish some rules.” She moved from the threshold and paced in front of the sofa. “The quarters out back will be yours. I won’t have you sporting with other women and embarrassing me further. I have a reputation to uphold in this town. I won’t have you tarnishing it with your behavior.”
    “Stop right there.” He lifted one hand, palm out. “Just how am I supposed to scratch my manly itches if we keep separate bedrooms and you don’t want me hanging around other women?”
    She felt her face flame, but she strove to keep a passive countenance. “Ignore those itches. Women do it all the time. I’m certain you can abstain if you set your mind to it.”
    To her surprise he laughed and seemed genuinely amused. She sat primly on the sofa, folded her hands in her lap, and waited for him to get serious again.
    “Dellie, you are a blue ribbon, you are. What if I don’t want to ignore my itches?” He shook his head, warding off her answer. “No, save your breath.