Page 125 of Tempest (Old West 3)


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“Thank you,” she said, looking up into his face. She wondered if he remembered how uneasy and fearful she’d been around men when she and her sister first came to Virginia City. Because of Corinne’s way of life, Portia had imagined herself fair game to any man in a pair of trousers, and as a result she’d been as afraid as a tiny mouse in a world filled with large feral cats.

He held the door aside. “After you.”

She inclined her head and entered.

The coolness of the interior’s air always offered relief from the blazing Arizona heat. “My uncle’s office is this way.”

She led him past the large sitting room filled with elegant dark wood furniture. The white adobe walls were adorned with framed brightly hued paintings and plants stood in large colorful floor pots.

“Feels like Mexico,” he said.

“We’re not that far from the border.” She stopped at her uncle’s closed door and knocked.

He called, “Come on in.”

Kent entered behind her and when Rhine, who was seated behind a big fancy desk, saw him, his jaw dropped and he slowly got to his feet. “Where in the hell did you find him?” There was a smile of wonder on his face.

“Outside on a horse,” she said with a grin. “I’ll leave you two to your visit.”

Kent turned to her and said in the same soft tone he’d used earlier, “Thanks, Duchess.”

“You’re welcome.” Forcing herself to break his captivating gaze, she turned and exited.

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