The Socialite and the Cattle King Read Online Free Page A

that she did not want to be recognized, she lowered her voice a notch and assumed a French accent. ‘ Merci. I was of a mind to punch his parrot.’
    Brett laughed then narrowed his eyes behind the mask. ‘You sound as if you’ve just stepped out of France.’
    ‘Not France, Tahiti.’ It wasn’t exactly a lie. She’d returned from her last travel assignment, Papeete, a bare week ago.
    ‘So, a Tahitian Holly Golightly?’
    ‘You may say so.’ Holly sipped some champagne. ‘What have we with you? An Aussie señor ?’
    He looked down at his attire. ‘You could say so. Are you into horses, Miss Golightly?’
    Holly gazed at him blankly.
    ‘It is the kick-off to the Winter Racing Carnival, this ball,’ he elaborated.
    ‘Of course! But no, you could say not, although Ihave done some riding in my time. Generally, though, on inferior beasts such as asses and camels.’
    Brett’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Camels? In Tahiti? How come?’
    ‘Not, naturally, Tahiti,’ Holly denied regally. ‘But I have a fondness for some out-of-the-way places you cannot get to by other means.’ She gave the word “other” a tremendous French twist.
    ‘So do I,’ he murmured and frowned again as his masked gaze roamed over her.
    Holly waited with some trepidation. Would he recognize her beneath the Holly Golightly outfit, the wide, downturned hat-brim and the French accent? She’d recognized him almost immediately, but that deep, mesmerizing voice would be hard to disguise. For that matter, so were those wide shoulders and lean hips.
    Then it occurred to her that she was once again being summed up in that inimitable way of his.
    The slender line of her neck, the outline of her figure beneath the little black dress, the smooth skin of her arms above her gloves, her trim ankles—they all received his critical assessment. And they all traitorously reacted accordingly, which was to say he might as well have been running his hands over her body.
    ‘Actually,’ she said airily—not a true reflection of her emotions as she was battling to stay cool and striving to take a humorous view of proceedings, ‘You make a trés arrogant Spaniard.’
    ‘I do?’
    ‘ Oui. Summing up perfectly strange women with a view to ownership is what I would call arrogant. Couldit be that there is little difference between you and the pirate with the parrot, monsieur ?’
    ‘Ownership?’ he queried.
    ‘Of their bodies,’ she explained. ‘Tell me this was not so a moment ago?’ She tilted her chin at him.
    He pushed his hands into his pockets and shrugged. ‘It’s a failing most men succumb to. But unlike the pirate I would never attempt to maul you, Miss Golightly.’
    He paused and allowed his dark, masked gaze to travel over her again. ‘On the contrary, I would make your skin feel like warm silk and I would celebrate your lovely, slim body in a way that would be entirely satisfactory—for both of us.’
    Holly stifled a tremor of utmost sensuousness that threatened to engulf her down the length of her body—at least stifled the outward appearance of it, by the narrowest of margins.
    All the same, she went hot and cold and had to wonder how he did it. How did he engender a state of mind that could even have her wondering what it would be like to be Brett Wyndham’s woman. How dared he?
    Despite his arrogance, did that dark, swashbuckling presence do it to most women he came in contact with?
    Her mind swooped on this point. Would it be a relief to think she was just one of a crowd when it came to Brett Wyndham? Or would it make it worse?
    She came to her senses abruptly to find him studying her intently now and rather differently. ‘You have a problem, señor ?’
    ‘No. Well, I just have the feeling I’ve met you before, Miss Golightly.’
    Holly took the bit between her teeth and contrived a quizzical little smile. ‘Many men have that problem. It is a very—how do you say it?—unoriginal approach.’
    ‘You feel I’m making a pass at