accept
my niece’s sincere regrets for this most unfortunate, er, altercation.”
“No, Mr. Daniels, please do not,” she snapped, shaking her uncle’s hand from her arm as she glared at Clint. Then she swiveled
her head around and glared at Horace. “He accosted me. He’s the one who should apologize.”
Having seen the whole episode explode so quickly that he could not prevent it, Horace knew that Delilah had played her biblical
role. She’d deliberately lured the man into that fleeting kiss. But he was not fool enough to say it in front of witnesses.
The past week had been arduous enough without adding further humiliation to her lot. Instead he equivocated, “Nevertheless,
I fear that your blow to his head incited the matter.”
“As if a blow to his head could hurt a skull as thick as his.” How dare her beloved uncle take the ruffian’s side!
“Judging by the look of his face, I believe you underestimate your strength…or overestimate the thickness of his aforementioned
skull,” Horace said dryly, then turned to Clint. “Please accept my apologies, if you will, sir.”
“No need. There’s an old saying down where I come from: Once a yellowjacket stings a fellow, he’d be a fool to stick his face
near the hive a second time.” His words were muffled by the white linen handkerchief he held over his mouth to staunch the
bleeding.
Horace took hold of Delilah’s arm again, then looked over at Daniels. “The two of us may, I hope, still discuss our business
affairs amicably tomorrow over luncheon?”
“I’ll pass on lunch. Your niece has loosened all the teeth on the left side of my mouth and I doubt I’ll be able to open my
swollen lips wide enough to bite into anything. Let’s just meet for coffee here at the Bud, say around ten?”
As the old man nodded and turned Delilah around to depart, Clint could swear he heard her chuckle softly. What the hell was I thinkin g ? Then he watched her lush little derriere disappear out the door and knew blasted well exactly what he had been thinking…and what part of his anatomy had done the thinking.
It was not his brain.
“Ooh, honey, that looks bad. Here, let me make it well,” Eva said, holding up a bag of ice she had fetched from the kitchen.
She gave him a kiss on his uninjured cheek.
“Thanks, darlin’.” Clint accepted the ice bag and headedfor the stairs, but when she followed him and took his arm, tugging
him toward her room, he stopped and gently disengaged. “Sorry, I’m not in the mood right now. Think I’ll just try to get some
sleep.”
“But I could take your mind off that bloodthirsty little bitch,” she cajoled, feathering kisses along his neck.
“Who says I’m thinking about Mrs. Raymond?” he asked irritably. Could every female on the river suddenly read hismind?
“Clint, I watched her sucker you. You usta have more sense ’n that. She’s poison.”
“More like a cross between a cannibal and a gator. But I made a deal—a very profitable deal—with her and I aim to collect
every last dollar of it when the Nymph steams back downriver this fall.”
“Yeah, ’n all you gotta do is keep her from drowning you somewheres along the way,” Eva said and flounced away in a snit.
Clint didn’t usually turn down offers to share her bed. She knew the female gambler with her fancy airs was the cause of it
…even if he didn’t. All men were idiots.
When Horace Mathers arrived at the Blasted Bud the following morning he was uncertain what his reception would be. Although
a bit worse for wear, Clint attempted a smile through his swollen lip and shook hands cordially, ushering him to the office
at the rear of the spacious building. It was furnished with expensive leather chairs and an oak desk covered with papers.
“Please have a seat while I ring for coffee. Have you had breakfast? Our cook whips up a mean omelet with hash browns and
bacon on the side.”
Considering that all his
my niece’s sincere regrets for this most unfortunate, er, altercation.”
“No, Mr. Daniels, please do not,” she snapped, shaking her uncle’s hand from her arm as she glared at Clint. Then she swiveled
her head around and glared at Horace. “He accosted me. He’s the one who should apologize.”
Having seen the whole episode explode so quickly that he could not prevent it, Horace knew that Delilah had played her biblical
role. She’d deliberately lured the man into that fleeting kiss. But he was not fool enough to say it in front of witnesses.
The past week had been arduous enough without adding further humiliation to her lot. Instead he equivocated, “Nevertheless,
I fear that your blow to his head incited the matter.”
“As if a blow to his head could hurt a skull as thick as his.” How dare her beloved uncle take the ruffian’s side!
“Judging by the look of his face, I believe you underestimate your strength…or overestimate the thickness of his aforementioned
skull,” Horace said dryly, then turned to Clint. “Please accept my apologies, if you will, sir.”
“No need. There’s an old saying down where I come from: Once a yellowjacket stings a fellow, he’d be a fool to stick his face
near the hive a second time.” His words were muffled by the white linen handkerchief he held over his mouth to staunch the
bleeding.
Horace took hold of Delilah’s arm again, then looked over at Daniels. “The two of us may, I hope, still discuss our business
affairs amicably tomorrow over luncheon?”
“I’ll pass on lunch. Your niece has loosened all the teeth on the left side of my mouth and I doubt I’ll be able to open my
swollen lips wide enough to bite into anything. Let’s just meet for coffee here at the Bud, say around ten?”
As the old man nodded and turned Delilah around to depart, Clint could swear he heard her chuckle softly. What the hell was I thinkin g ? Then he watched her lush little derriere disappear out the door and knew blasted well exactly what he had been thinking…and what part of his anatomy had done the thinking.
It was not his brain.
“Ooh, honey, that looks bad. Here, let me make it well,” Eva said, holding up a bag of ice she had fetched from the kitchen.
She gave him a kiss on his uninjured cheek.
“Thanks, darlin’.” Clint accepted the ice bag and headedfor the stairs, but when she followed him and took his arm, tugging
him toward her room, he stopped and gently disengaged. “Sorry, I’m not in the mood right now. Think I’ll just try to get some
sleep.”
“But I could take your mind off that bloodthirsty little bitch,” she cajoled, feathering kisses along his neck.
“Who says I’m thinking about Mrs. Raymond?” he asked irritably. Could every female on the river suddenly read hismind?
“Clint, I watched her sucker you. You usta have more sense ’n that. She’s poison.”
“More like a cross between a cannibal and a gator. But I made a deal—a very profitable deal—with her and I aim to collect
every last dollar of it when the Nymph steams back downriver this fall.”
“Yeah, ’n all you gotta do is keep her from drowning you somewheres along the way,” Eva said and flounced away in a snit.
Clint didn’t usually turn down offers to share her bed. She knew the female gambler with her fancy airs was the cause of it
…even if he didn’t. All men were idiots.
When Horace Mathers arrived at the Blasted Bud the following morning he was uncertain what his reception would be. Although
a bit worse for wear, Clint attempted a smile through his swollen lip and shook hands cordially, ushering him to the office
at the rear of the spacious building. It was furnished with expensive leather chairs and an oak desk covered with papers.
“Please have a seat while I ring for coffee. Have you had breakfast? Our cook whips up a mean omelet with hash browns and
bacon on the side.”
Considering that all his
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