“Why didn’t you call me?”
Sharisse swung around, startled. Lucas was closing the back door. His shirt was open to the waist, and a towel was wrapped around his neck. His hair was damp, with soft black tendrils curling about his temples. He looked so virile, so overwhelmingly masculine. Her guard went up.
“I hope I’m not expected to hunt you down for meals.” The haughtiness in her tone was unmistakable.
Lucas tore his eyes away from her and went to the table. “A yell from the window will do,” he said as he looked over the food.
“I don’t yell, Mr. Holt.”
“Really?” She had his full attention again. “Not even when you’re mad?”
“I don’t get mad.”
He laughed. “Honey, I never met a redhead who didn’t.”
Sharisse gasped. “I do not have red hair!”
“No, you don’t,” he conceded, admiring the copper tresses. “But it’s close enough.”
She moved to face him across the table. “I hardly see what hair has to do with it. My father would tell you I am sweet-tempered and quite biddable. I like to think I am.”
“Not a disagreeable bone in your body?” Laughter danced in his eyes.
“I don’t like to fight, if that’s what you mean,” she retorted. “I was witness to more than enough of that when I was a child. I am quite thankful I didn’t inherit my parents’ volatile natures.”
Lucas grinned. “Well, I guess I’ve had enough hot-tempered females. Having a sweet, compliant wife will be a nice change.”
Sharisse blushed. A gentleman would never mention the women from his past.
“If you will be seated, Mr. Holt.”
“When are you going to let go of some of that starch,MissHammond?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Never mind.” Lucas sighed. “I see you have three places set. Are we expecting company?”
“I didn’t know if Mack would be joining us or not. You said Mr. Wolf has a wife who sees to him, but you didn’t say if Mack would take his meals with us or not.”
“He’s ‘Mack,’ but I’m still ‘Mr. Holt’?” Irritation sparked his words. “Why is that?”
Sharisse groaned. The man was temperamental. For all his devilish smiles and apparent humor, there was this other side to him. She didn’t know what to make of him. He might have a violent temper for all she knew.
“I…I suppose I could call you Lucas,” Sharisse finally conceded.
“Luke would be even better.”
“Lucas is more appropriate.”
“I’ll wager your father threw in ‘stubborn’ occasionally when he was describing you.”
Sharisse smiled despite herself. He might intimidate her sometimes, but he had an exasperating kind of devil-may-care charm that was quite appealing. Put him in a suit and cut his hair, and the ladies back home would find him a delightful rogue, even handsome. Yes, quite handsome. If she hadn’t been so shocked yesterday by his rough appearance and appalled by his size, she would have seen that beneath his darkly tanned skin was quite an attractive face. Still, lily-white was in fashion, not bronze. She would have to remember that. It wouldn’t do for her to find the man attractive.
Lucas came around the table to seat her, then took the chair next to her. “You set three places,” he observed. “But the amount of food you have here will barely feed the two of us, and that’s only because I’m not very hungry.”
Her eyes widened. She looked at the roast beef and gravy, the half-dozen biscuits, the potatoes, carrots, and onions. Granted, the slab of beef she had started with had shriveled to a rather small hunk, but still…
She looked back at Lucas and sighed. She ought to have remembered all the pancakes he had put away that morning. A man his size would eat large portions of food, of course.
