Free Schulze, Dallas by Gunfighter's Bride Page B

the orchestra paused between songs, Lila made her way across
the ballroom. Her progress was delayed by the necessity of pausing to speak to
friends and acquaintances; to nod and smile and agree that Susan was a
delightful young woman and Douglas was lucky to have found such a charming
bride. She liked her new sister-in-law very much, but her thoughts were turned
in another direction entirely.
    “You’re not dancing, Mr. McKenzie.”
    Bishop turned to look at her and Lila felt a little breathless
from the impact of those cool blue eyes. She’d never met a man who could make
her feel breathless with just a look.
    “I assume you do have music out West,” she continued when he
didn’t speak.
    “We do. Though not many full orchestras.” He nodded to the
formally attired musicians who sat on a raised dais at the far end of the room.
“Our dances tend to be a little more informal than this.”
    “But you do dance,” she pursued.
    “Sometimes.”
    “You’re not dancing now.”
    “Should I be?”
    “As your hostess, I’m concerned that all of the guests have a good
time. You neither dance nor mingle, Mr. McKenzie. It gives a hostess some
concern.” She opened her fan and waved it idly in front of her, aware that the
motion drew attention to her low décolletage.
    “I certainly wouldn’t want to give you any concern, Miss Adams,”
Bishop said solemnly. His eyes flickered downward and then back up to meet
hers, and Lila felt her skin flush with sudden heat.
    “I’m sure you wouldn’t mean to do so,” she said, aware of an
almost imperceptible breathlessness in her voice.
    “Tell me what I can do to ease your mind,” he asked.
    Lila pretended to consider, allowing her brows to draw together in
a delicate frown. She was flirting with him. The very idea should have shocked
her into more sober behavior. Behavior more befitting of Lila Adams of River
Walk, grieving fiancee of Billy Sinclair. The thought of Billy brought with it
a twinge of guilt, followed by a champagne-assisted flare of defiance. She had loved
Billy but she hadn’t died with him, despite what everyone else seemed to think.
Billy had been known and loved by everyone in Beaton, and for three years she’d
been treated with the circumspection usually reserved for widows of great war
heroes. Though she would always mourn Billy’s death, lately she’d begun to feel
as if she were suffocating beneath the weight of his memory.
    But Bishop McKenzie neither knew nor cared that she’d once been
engaged to Billy Sinclair. When he looked at her, he saw only her, not her fiancé's
ghost.
    There was something dangerously appealing about that thought.
    “Perhaps, if you asked a lady to dance, I might be reassured that
you’re enjoying our hospitality,” she said finally.
    One corner of Bishop’s mouth quirked upward but his tone remained
solemn. “What if she were to refuse? Think how humiliated I’d be.”
    “I doubt a lady would refuse if you asked politely, Mr. McKenzie.”
She peeked up at him from under her lashes, feeling like a girl of seventeen
again. It had been so long since she’d enjoyed a gentle flirtation with a man.
Behind her, she heard the scratchy sound of violins being tuned and knew the
orchestra was about to start the next tune. Bishop glanced over her shoulder at
the dance floor, his expression considering. Lila knew, as clearly as if he’d
spoken out loud, that he was debating whether to ask her to dance. And she
suddenly wanted, more than anything in the world, to dance with him.
    “Miss Adams, will you do me the honor of granting me this dance?”
    “Perhaps this dance is already taken. I’ll have to check my dance
card.” She widened her eyes innocently and fluttered her fan a bit.
    “If it’s already taken, then why are you trying to get me to ask
you to dance?” Bishop asked coolly, one black brow raised in question.
    Lila gasped as if someone had just tossed cold water in her face.
He wasn’t suggesting that