“Mr. Montana?”
He stuffed his money into his pocket. “I’ll get to Templeton sometime,” he finally answered her question. “I still have to collect the savings I have in the other towns before I can make the last payment on the land. Are you ready to go back to the room now?”
Maybe he’d hug her in the room, he thought suddenly. And maybe he’d kiss her there too. That way she’d know his attentions had everything to do with desire and nothing to do with emotions.
Which was the absolute truth.
“May we seek out more fun before returning to the hotel, Mr. Montana?” Theodosia asked, her interest piqued by the carnival magician performing a short distance away. “If I could only watch that man a bit more closely, I believe I could understand what tricks he uses to make those doves disappear.” She began walking toward the magician.
Roman caught her hand and led her purposefully toward town. “Miss Worth, I think you’ve had enough fun for one day.”
Two minutes after he and Theodosia returned to their hotel room, Roman hung his hat and gunbelt on the hatstand and announced he was bored.
In the act of removing her gloves, Theodosia stopped. “Bored?”
“To death.” Hands clasped behind his back, he began pacing around the room, stopping every now and then to stare out of the window and sigh heavily into the windowpane.
John the Baptist stretched his leg out between the bars of his cage. “Of course, one cannot truly indulge in the pleasure of macerating forever,” he called out.
“We could return to the fair in a while,” Theodosia suggested to Roman. She took her bonnet and shoes off and filled her parrot’s food and water containers.
Roman shook his head and shrugged out of his shirt. “I’m hot,” he explained upon seeing the startled look on her face. “Hot and bored.” He pretended a huge yawn.
Theodosia could not keep herself from staring at him. The sleek muscles in his chest stretched and coiled as if he had snakes beneath his skin. She took her fill of the sexy sight he presented, and only when the first warm tingles came to life inside her did she turn and settle into the hard, high-backed chair in front of the small writing desk. “Why don’t you indulge in a short nap?”
“I’m not sleepy. I’m bored, and sleeping is the most boring activity I can think of. Name some things we could do, and I’ll pick one.” He knew what one of her suggestions would be and hoped it wouldn’t take her long to suggest it.
“We might order a light repast. Some fruit, perhaps.”
“We just ate a few hours ago.” For effect, he stopped before the small throw rug by the bed and began pushing at it with the toe of his boot. “God, I’m bored.”
“Well, would you like to converse?”
He stared at the ceiling. “I feel like doing something quiet. Something…I don’t know. Something peaceful. I want to sit here and relax, but I don’t want to sit here doing nothing.”
She thought for a moment. “We could read for a while.”
Triumph soared through him. “Read? Well, I guess we could. But I don’t have anything to read.”
“Oh, that’s not a problem at all, Mr. Montana.” Smiling, Theodosia rose and opened one of her trunks.
Roman saw her withdraw several thick volumes, none of which was the sex-treat book. “What are those?”
She carried them to the bed and spread them out upon the mattress. “This one,” she said, pointing to the biggest book, “contains the complete works of Shakespeare. This second one is a history of the Great Sphinx, which is an awesome sculpture in Egypt.”
Seeing that his response was less than enthusiastic, she reached for the third book. “And this one is a detailed and extremely interesting textbook about the human spleen!”
“Spleen?”
She caressed the book’s spine. “The spleen is a highly vascular, ductless organ near the stomach or intestines of most vertebrates. It is concerned with final destruction of blood cells, storage of blood, and—”
“Yeah, I know all about spleens.”Spleens?God, talk about something that reallywouldbore him to death!
She frowned slightly. “You are familiar with spleens?”
“Oh, sure. A spleen is—well, you know. It’s that intestinal cell that destroys the stomach. I’ve always felt really sorry for people who have spleens.”
“But—”
