Rage of Passion Read Online Free Page B

with his coffee cup in his lean hand. He wasn't even neatly dressed or particularly cleaned up. He was still wearing his work clothes, except that his dusty shirt was open halfway down his tanned chest, where a wedge of thick black hair arrowed toward his wide leather belt. That disturbed Maggie, just as it had in her teens, and she looked down at her plate, fiddling with putting the napkin in her lap.
    “I would have cleaned up,” he said unexpectedly, a bite in his slow drawl as he obviously mistook her expression for distaste, “but I'd just come in from the holding pens when I went to the doctor, and I'm a bit tired.”
    Her eyes came up quickly, with an apology in them. “Mr. Coleman, this is your home,” she said gently. “I wouldn't be so rude as to criticize how you dress.”
    He stared at her calculatingly for a long moment—so long that she dropped her gaze again to her plate. Finally, he reached for the platter of beef and helped himself, to his mother's obvious relief.
    “How did you get bitten, darling?” Janet asked him.
    “I reached for a rope without looking.”
    Janet gnawed her lip. “It must be painful. You won't be able to work for a few days, I guess.”
    He gave her a cold stare. “I'm managing. If I felt a little stronger, I could ride. It's just the swelling and the pain, that's all. I won't be stuck here for long, I hope.”
    Janet started to make a comment, but she forced herself to remain silent. It did no good to argue with him.
    He glanced from her to Maggie as he buttered a huge fluffy biscuit. “What are you doing these days?” he asked curiously.
    “Me? I'm working at a bookstore,” Maggie told him. She glanced up and down again, hating the surge of heat to her face. He had the most incredible effect on her, even after the anguish of her marriage.
    “Working, did you say?” His light eyes lifted and probed hers like a microscope. “Your people were wealthy.”
    “Times change,” she said quietly. “I'm not wealthy now. I'm just a working girl.”
    “Have some peas, dear.” Janet tried to interrupt.
    He put the biscuit down and cocked his head, studying her with narrowed eyes. “It shows,” he said absently. “You don't look like the spunky little kid who used to play with my sisters. What's happened to you?”
    Maggie felt herself going cold. He was watching her, like a cat watching a mouse. She felt vulnerable and a little afraid of that single-mindedness. Once, she would have taken exception to his blunt challenge. But there had been so many fights, so much struggle. Her spirit was carefully buried—had to be, for Becky's sake.
    She laid down her fork and stared at him. “I've grown up,” she replied, her voice soft.
    His level gaze sized her up. “You had money. And now you don't. Then what brings you here, Miss Turner? Are you looking for a vacation or a man to support you?”
    “Gabriel!” Janet slammed her napkin down. “How dare you!”
    Maggie clasped her hands tightly under the table and stared at him with a courage she didn't really feel. “Your mother offered me a visit, Mr. Coleman,” she said dully. “I needed to get away for a little while, that's all. You'll have to excuse me for being so dim, but I didn't realize that I needed your permission as well as Janet's. If you want me to leave…?” She started to rise.
    “Oh, for God's sake, sit down,” he snapped. His eyes cut into hers. “The last thing I need is a Texas society girl out here at roundup, but if Mother wants you, you're welcome. Just keep to the house,” he warned softly, his eyes emphasizing the threat. “And out of my way.”
    He tossed his own napkin down, ignoring his mother's furious glare.
    “I won't get in your way,” Maggie said, her voice, her whole manner vulnerable.
    Gabriel's pale eyes narrowed as he bent his dark head to light a cigarette, watching her the whole time. “Won't you? What a difference,” he added as he took a draw from the cigarette. “The girl