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can’t have her,” Mrs. Warfield stated matter-of-factly, crossing her arms over her chest.
    Shrugging, he said, “Suit yourself.”
    Her silvery brows arched and her mouth opened slightly. Obviously caught off guard, she frowned at him. Narrowing her eyes, she asked, “What kind of game are you playing here? First you want her, then you don’t.”
    Outwardly he made himself relax as he leaned back in the tiny chair and crossed his left booted foot over his right knee. With keen interest, he went on, “Well, she does have some shortcomings, you know…”
    “Hah! Why she’d make any man a wonderful wife and don’t you forget it.” A pink flush entered her cheeks, causing him to breathe a sigh of relief. He’d prefer fire and brimstone any day to being responsible for putting her in a sick bed.Scratching the back of his head and scrunching up his face, he said, "She’s a little too tall for my taste. Only a couple inches shorter than me.”
    “She’s statuesque, that’s all.” She easily dismissed it with a tilt of her head.
    “And skinny.”
    “Trim,” she snapped, automatically correcting him. Looking at him haughtily, she asked, “You wouldn’t want a fat wife, now would you?”
    Inwardly, Chance beamed at the way things were falling into his lap. He had all he could do not to rub his hands together in glee. Instead, he ran a hand over his jaw, feeling the beginnings of the stubble there. “What about her hair? It’s all curly and wild and red!” He said the last as if it were the plague. Secretly, he had a thing for redheads, but he wasn’t going to tell the old lady that or he’d lose his ground here.
    Sitting across from him, she opened and closed her mouth without a word escaping. She answered on her second effort, “Why…why it’s strawberry blonde, not red , for land’s sake. Can’t you tell the difference? And women all over the world pay good money to get their hair that color.”
    “You don’t.”
    Flustered even more, she stammered, “I…my coloring isn’t right. I’d never be able to get away with it.”
    Easily, stringing her in, he said, “Of course, there’s her overreacting. She always did that as a kid.”
    “Over…Why, she’s just…just theatrical. It runs in the family. Her mother came from a long line of gypsies. In fact, the girl was a gypsy Princess.” She patted her tidy bun.
    Although he’d never heard that one, that didn’t surprise him in the least. Tessa had grown up to be exotic and sexy as hell to him. Shooting her a mock horrified gaze, he exclaimed, “A gypsy! She’s going to be more than a handful for any man.”
    A sly smile cracked through the softly wrinkled long face of the woman. “Are you saying you wouldn’t be able to control her? Is she too much of a woman for you to handle?”
    Careful here, if I play my cards right I can have it all .
    “Well now…”
    “I bet you you can’t.” Triumph shone in her dark eyes. Her smile widened. “No Deveraux in the world could ever possibly rein in a Warfield. We’re too much for the likes of you.”
    “Oh, really?” He arched a brow at her. His middle tighten in a knot at hearing the unspoken words, Warfields are better than Deverauxs.
    “Yes, really.” She chuckled now.
    Slowly, he dropped his foot back to the floor, and then shifted in the seat so now there was less than three feet separating them. “Okay, you’re on.”
    Her mouth dropped open. “Whatever do you mean?”
    “I’m taking you up on your bet.”
    “Bet? What bet?”
    Grinning, he said, “A second ago you said you’d bet me I can’t handle Tessa. Now I’m taking you up on it. Marriage. Six months.”
    Stomping her foot, she said, “No, absolutely not.”
    “Oh, so you just want us to live together. All right.”
    Her gasp tore through the room. “There is no way I will ever allow Tessa to live with a man.”
    “Okay, have it your way, marriage it is then.”

 
     
     

Chapter 6
     
     
    In the dark, lonely