Page 16 of Texas Made
Marshall laughed. “It’s unique, all right. There’s also the Wildcatter wing, named after Wildcatter Kelly, who was the oil well king. His wife was an Italian artist. You’d like that wing. We’ll ask someone to give us a tour if you want.”
“Sounds like fun. How do you know so much about it?”
“I’ve been on the tour several times.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “With a different woman every time, I presume?”
His grin was all the answer she needed. They wound up seeing the house with Ariana and several couples. The Kellys and the Blues—the men and the women—took turns giving ‘the tour’ as they called it. Ariana was their hostess for that night.
It really was a fabulous place with some wings being beyond opulent, to others that were less so but no less impressive. There were fountains everywhere but the one in Baron Kelly’s courtyard was her favorite. No surprise, it was Marshall’s favorite too. Against the back wall of the courtyard was a huge, lighted fountain. Three enormous bronze horses sprang from an ebony background. Water poured from their mouths into a brass basin. The sculpture was exquisite with details that made it come to life.
It was large, ostentatious, and Jaclyn adored it.
Finished with the tour, they went back to the ballroom. Curious to see how her makeup basket was faring at the silent auction, she asked Marshall to stop by the room where it was set up, a short distance away from the ballroom. Several people were milling about, looking at the tables with their assortment of gifts, some bidding by putting their assigned number on the cards beside the items. Marshall had stopped to look at a glass sculpture of a horse, a beautiful piece of art made by Alexis March, a local artist, according to the card. Jaclyn wandered off and found her basket, which fortunately, had several bids on it. Nearby was the basket Lavender Dreams had made up. On a whim, she wrote her number down. She was very curious to see what their stock was like. If she didn’t win their prize, she was going to buy some of their products.
She looked over at Marshall just in time to see a beautiful redhead lay a kiss on him that sizzled, even from a distance. He didn’t, she noticed, look happy to see the mystery woman. That pleased her more than it should have. Her gaze moved from the woman to Marshall. Marshall caught her gaze. The look he telegraphed her was as plain as if he’d spoken.Help.
Jaclyn nearly laughed but she controlled herself and walked over to the couple and slipped her arm through Marshall’s. “Hi,” she said to the woman. “I’m Jaclyn Carson.” She held out her other hand but the woman didn’t take it. Instead, Jaclyn could have sworn she rolled her eyes.
“This is Mary Beth Whitney,” Marshall said.
“You didn’t say you had a date,” Mary Beth said accusingly.
“You didn’t give me a chance.” He put his arm around Jaclyn’s waist, said, “Good to see you, Mary Beth,” and walked away.
“What was that about?”
Instead of answering he said, “Thanks for the rescue.”
“How could I not after that absolutely pitiful look you sent me?”
“Not pitiful, surely.”
“Yes. Definitely pitiful and pleading.” It had dawned on her who that might be. “Is that the woman who wasn’tthe one?” she asked, making air quotes.
“No. She’s a woman I dated for a while who I knew wasn’t the one. She had different ideas.”
“What bug got up her nose?”
Marshall busted out laughing. “She’s still pissed that I called things off. It’s a point of pride to her to always be the one calling the shots.”
“She’s awfully pretty.”
“Not nearly as pretty as you are,” he said, and kissed her.
Somehow it didn’t sound like a line when Marshall said it.You’ve got it bad, sister.
*
Ordinarily, Marshall didn’tlike to dance. Ordinarily, he also didn’t care much for big, fancy parties. But tonight, with Jaclyn, he liked both. He liked both a lot. Jaclyn loved to dance, so they danced almost every dance. Holding her in his arms was nice. Even if it did make him think about holding her minus their clothes.
“What are you thinking about?” he asked her when she sighed.
“I didn’t know you were such a good dancer.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” He wasn’t good but he wasn’t terrible. “How about a break?”
“What did you have in mind?”
