Free Texas Tiger TH3 by Patricia Rice

she forced it into retreat. "Economic expertise, my foot and eye. You're up to no good, Georgina Meredith, that I can vouch. But it should be amusing to see what you do with the information. You do realize it won't be easy to persuade Harold to tell me?"
    Georgina had anticipated that. It was tit for tat with Loyolla Banks. She sipped from her cup before replying. "I fully appreciate that, Mrs. Banks. I'm not certain how I can offer my gratitude. But I have met the most interesting person—I've been thinking he would make a delightful addition to a dinner party. He's from Texas, and his nickname is Pecos, and he's the most original person I've met in a long time."
    Loyolla's eyes lit up like beacons. Georgina hid her smile. She knew the matron prided herself on introducing the original and the intellectual at her exclusive dinner parties. She had no idea how Daniel would feel about such an invitation, but she had no intention of telling him he was being served as the main course.
    * * *
    On Wednesday morning Georgina woke up with imps of hell tap dancing in her stomach. Today was the day Daniel's newspaper would come out—and her photographs would go on display in the glass kiosk Daniel had rented as a newsstand. She would learn once and for all whether Peter was willing to have her as she was, or if all he wanted was a smiling ninny to decorate his arm. She might be throwing away a certain future for an uncertain one, but she had to know.
    And she didn't intend to sit around the house, waiting for it to happen. She already knew how the photographs had turned out. Now she wanted to see that newssheet as it rolled off the presses. Daniel could fire her all he wanted, but he couldn't stop her from showing up if she chose to. And she did.
    Besides, she had a perfectly legitimate excuse to appear on his doorstep. The invitation to Mrs. Banks's dinner party lay right there on her desk. When Daniel understood that access to the information they wanted was dependent on his acceptance of the invitation, he would have to consent. And she would have to be the one to present him with it.
    The June heat was scorching as she directed Blucher to the street with the camera shop. She needed more supplies anyway, so she wasn't really lying. By the time the carriage returned after running her mother's errands, she would have had time to see Daniel and still buy the chemicals. Walking quickly in this heat would have to be the price she paid for her deception.
    She had dressed appropriately this time. Her white organdy skirt whispered coolly about her ankles as she hurried down the unpaved street. The matching ruffled parasol kept her protected from the worst rays. Her lace gloves let in every breath of air. The only problem with the whole effect was that it made every man on this side of town turn and stare.
    Men on her side of town weren't so rude. Georgina had the urge to stick her tongue out at them, but instinct told her that probably wasn't wise. Sticking her nose up in the air and disregarding the gawkers, she hurried toward Daniel's office.
    She could hear the racket of the press running even before she entered the building. All the windows on the second floor were open, and the clackety-clack bounced off the walls and up and down the narrow alley. She closed her parasol, wiped her hands nervously on her skirt, lifted it out of the dust as she stepped inside and started up the stairs.
    The door was open, so she walked in. The mattress in the corner now sported a colorful quilt; an old wing chair decorated another corner. Beside the chair was a table with an oil lamp and a collection of books that covered the remaining surface and towered dangerously at several points. Georgina imagined Mr. Martin sitting there in the evenings with his spectacles on, devouring those volumes instead of food. No wonder he was so lean.
    The pounding noise of the press was enough to give her a headache even from here. Crossing the room, Georgina peered into