Designed to drop a man at fifty paces, it was what she’d always referred to as her slut-for-a-night dress. Her father would hate it.
She chuckled under her breath. Well, that was good enough for her. She tossed it on the bed and reached for matching heels. It was too hot, so she would skip nylons.
Padding into the bathroom, she swung her hair up into a wide black onyx clip, then pulled out her eyeliner, mascara and lipstick. If she really wanted to get her father’s goat, she would haul out all the war paint, but even Senada was past that. Applying her makeup, she planned her jewelry. She would keep it simple and let her wicked dress do the talking.
She glanced at the little clock in the bathroom. Time for her blood test and insulin. She’d made progress. She could perform the blood test with a wince, and now she only squeaked when she gave herself the shot for the insulin. After that time Troy overheard her, she’d forced herself to get a grip.
Quick prick for the blood test. She pulled out the syringe and frowned. Sitting down on the closed commode, she measured two fingers over on her left thigh and fought the quick, sharp surge of horror. She took a deep breath, held it, then jabbed her thigh. “Oh!
“Done, all done” she told herself, as if she were a nurse trying to soothe a child after a shot. She stood and caught sight of herself holding the needle in front of the mirror. The resemblance to her mother was strong: long dark hair, dark exotic eyes and full lips. The stubborn chin and high cheekbones, however, came straight from her dad.
Senada looked at the syringe and considered the significance of it. One more reason, she thought, for her father to reject her. She was a fool to go tonight. But Senada was no stranger to doing something foolish, so she tossed the syringe and went to the bedroom to pull on her dress. She was just putting in her earrings as the doorbell rang. Troy. Her stomach fluttered and she scowled. She wasn’t the stomach-fluttering type. Stepping into her black high-heeled sandals, she walked to the door and opened it, not even glancing at Troy. “Come on in. I’ll be just a minute,” she said, turning back to her room.
“Gotta grab my purse.”
She threw a lipstick and a glucose stick in her purse. Great combination, she thought wryly, then reentered the living room. “Thanks for wait—” She broke off when she caught sight of Troy.
His broad shoulders were set off by a white, white shirt with a silver Western slide. Black jeans molded his narrow hips and long legs to black boots. Topping it off was black hair, tanned skin and searing violet eyes that were consuming her like a wildfire.
Senada felt scorched. She gave a little shake of her head. This was ridiculous. She swallowed and prayed for a little moisture in her mouth. “Hi,” she said, nodding her head. “You look good. Didn’t know Pendletons could do ‘cowboy.’ The only thing you’re missing is the hat.”
“We’re adaptable.” He flicked his gaze over her and stepped forward. “Who do you want to kill tonight?”
Senada shrugged, surprised again at his perceptiveness. “Why would you say that? I’m just out for a little fun,” she said with a smile as she sauntered toward him. “Nothing wrong with having a little fun, is there?”
He stepped directly in front of her, put his finger under her chin and stared straight into her eyes. “You’re full of it, Sin. You’re dressed like the feminine equivalent of a cocked gun, and you know it.” He bent down to boldly brush a kiss over her lips. “But it’ll be damn fun to watch. Let’s go.” He smiled, and his white teeth matched his shirt. “Angel.”
Senada’s laugh caught in her throat. She knew he was joking, but the last person who’d called her angel had been her mother. They got into the car, and he asked her a few questions about the Circle K Ranch. Senada gave short answers. The miles flew by, and the closer they drew to the ranch, the tighter the knot in her stomach grew. They turned into the entrance, and Senada took a quick breath.
Troy threw a questioning glance in her direction. “You okay?”
Senada sharply reined in her churning emotions. “Fine,” she murmured, “just fine.” She drank in the sight of the new fences, well-fed cattle and new buildings. She gasped at the sight of the house. The addition was far larger than the original sprawling ranch.
Troy looked at her again. “Problem?”
She took a careful breath. She was going to have to get a grip. “No problem,” she said in a firm voice, hoping her insides would take the hint.
He parked in a graveled area, and Senada joined him as they walked toward the crowd gathered in the backyard.