The Rancher Takes A Bride (The Burnett Brides Book 1)

eased down into it and folded her hands in her lap.
    "You proved your point," he acknowledged.
    Her chin lifted and her eyes flashed with determination. "After your comment this morning about all women sewing, I wanted you to see that not everyone does."
    He shrugged. "So, I guess my mother helped you out with the alterations?"
    He couldn't help but notice how the light glinted off the darkness of her hair. He couldn't have cared less that she didn't know how to sew. He didn't care that his comment that morning had caused such a commotion. All he could think about was that here before him was a woman who had his blood hotter than the cook's chili and tasted sweeter than honey.
    And she'd stolen his mother's wedding ring!
    "Yes, I convinced her to help me. She did most of the stitching."
    "I bet she didn't take much persuasion, did she?" Travis was surprised that he only felt annoyance at his mother. Desirée, he was beginning to realize, could run around half naked and he wouldn't mind.
    "No." Desirée picked up a fork and twirled it between her fingers. "We were pretty much in agreement that we had to do something."
    "You couldn't just alter one of my mother's dresses?" he asked, knowing the answer beforehand.
    She met his gaze head on. "There would be a lot of work. It would take several days. I needed clothes now!"
    He ran his hand through his hair, brushing back the wayward locks. He'd never met a more stubborn, pain-in-the-ass woman, and all he wanted to do was take her upstairs to his room, peel those tight-fitting pants from her body, and show her just how her act of defiance affected him.
    The door opened and the cook, who had been with them for most of Travis's life, stepped through the portal. Without a word he set the food on the table and disappeared back into the kitchen.
    "Besides, I just knew you were going to come back from town and tell me to get my things so you could take me back to jail." She stared at him, as if she was ready to take him on. "And I'm prepared to fight you every step of the way."
    He glanced over at her in the semi-darkness. She'd thought he was taking her back to jail. The memory of the smell of the Tarrant county jail almost made him gag. Somehow he couldn't blame her for her reaction. "So, that's what this little rebellion is all about."
    "I overheard you and Eugenia arguing the other night."
    "Hmm."
    "So, do I have a fight on my hands or what?" she challenged.
    "You're the séance woman—you tell me!" he said.
    The tempting aroma of roast beef rose in the air, steam twirling through the candlelight like wisps of fog on a warm fall night.
    Desirée leaned back in her chair and smoothed the napkin in her lap. "I only speak for the dead. From the way you looked at me coming down those stairs, you're not dead."
    Travis watched as she flipped a wayward curl back over her shoulder. So his shock and arousal at the sight of Desirée in men's clothing had been that obvious. No wonder his poor mother had practically run. "No. I'm not taking you to jail. At least not yet."
    "Thank God." She breathed a sigh of relief and picked up her wineglass and sipped carefully. "So what changed your mind?"
    He shrugged. It was better she didn't know he was having her investigated. That was certain to cause problems he didn't need just yet. "No rush."
    "Well, it won't be necessary at all. I'll be gone before you find it necessary to return me there."
    He raised an eyebrow and let the comment slide. Unless the ring turned up soon, she could plan a trip to the county seat in the next couple of weeks. But for now he didn't want to think of her behind bars.
    Picking up her plate, he put a slice of roast and some potatoes and gravy on it, and returned it to her. "By the way, your trunk should be here day after tomorrow. I'll send someone into town to pick it up for you."
    "You did check on it. Thanks." She pulled at the top of his Western-cut shirt, which fit her snugly. "You know, I don't know how you men can stand to wear these clothes. The pants feel like they're going to cut me in two, and the shirt feels like it might bust a button any moment now."
    Travis had just taken a bite of food and choked at her comments. God, the woman was determined to kill him. The image of buttons flying off her shirt and revealing her creamy white breasts made him gasp. He coughed, trying to clear his windpipe.
    She jumped up and pounded him on the back. "Raise your arm. That's what Isaiah always did for me whenever I