Free Just Imagine by Susan Elizabeth Phillips Page A

hungry, damn it. He hadn't eaten a decent meal since he'd left New York.
    He disposed of her knife, then stalked back into the dining room. Kit appeared with a platter of fried chicken she placed on the table, and he finally noticed what had escaped him earlier. Everything about her was clean. From her cropped hair to the plaid shirt with a button missing at the neck to the dark brown britches that hung loosely on her small hips, she was scrubbed up as shiny as a new penny. He hadn't imagined anything short of force convincing her to bathe voluntarily. She was obviously prepared to go to drastic lengths to please him.
    Not that she was going to have any success. He still couldn't believe she'd done this. But then, why not? She didn't understand the meaning of caution.
    "Sit down and eat, Major. I sure hope you're hungry."
    Cain had to admit it was a great meal. The chicken was fried a gold brown and steam rose from the buttermilk biscuits when he split them open. Even the dandelion greens were richly flavored.
    When he'd eaten his fill, he leaned back in the chair. "You didn't do this by yourself."
    "'Course I did. Normally Sophronia would have helped, but she's not here."
    "Sophronia's the cook?"
    "She also looked after me when I was growing up."
    "She didn't do a very good job of it."
    Those violet eyes narrowed. "I've got half a mind to comment on your upbringing, too."
    The food had mellowed him, so this time she didn't get his dander up. "Everything was delicious."
    She rose to fetch a bottle of brandy she'd put on the sideboard earlier. "Rosemary hid this before the Yankees came. Thought you might like to have a glass to celebrate your arrival at Risen Glory."
    "Trust my mother to take better care of the liquor than she did of her stepdaughter." He took the bottle and began prying out the cork. "How did Risen Glory get its name? It's unusual."
    "It happened not long after my granddaddy built the house." Kit leaned against the sideboard. "A Baptist preacher man came to the door askin' for a meal, and even though my grandma was strict Methodist, she fed him. They got to talkin', and when he heard the plantation didn't have a name yet, he said they should call it Risen Glory on account of it was almost Easter Sunday. It's been Risen Glory ever since."
    "I see." He fished a piece of cork from his glass of brandy. " I think it's time you tell me what you're doing here."
    Her stomach lurched. She watched him take a sip, his eyes staying on her the whole time. He never missed anything.
    She moved toward the open doors that led from the dining room to the overgrown garden. It was dark and quiet outside, and she could smell honeysuckle in the night breeze. She loved it all so much. The trees and brooks, the sights and smells. Best of all, she loved watching the fields dance white with cotton. Soon, they'd be that way again.
    Slowly she turned back to him. Everything depended on the next few minutes, and she had to do it right. "I came here to make a proposal to you, Major."
    "I resigned my commission. Why don't you just call me Baron?"
    "If it's all the same, I'll just go on callin' you 'Major'."
    "I suppose it's better than some of the other things you've called me." He kicked back in the chair. Unlike a proper Southern gentleman, he'd hadn't worn a cravat to the table, and his collar was open. For a moment she found herself staring at the strong muscles in his neck. She forced herself to look away.
    "Tell me about this proposal of yours."
    "Weil…" She tried to suck in some air. "As you might of guessed, your part of the bargain would be to hang onto Risen Glory until I can buy it back from you."
    "I figured that."
    "You wouldn't be stuck with it forever," she hastened to add. "just for five years, until I can get to the money in my trust fund."
    He studied her. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. This was going to be the hardest part. "I realize you'd expect somethin' in return."
    "Of course."
    She hated the flicker