Page 206 of The Donovan Dynasty

She followed him into the dining room and her mouth fell open in shock.Ornate windows overlooked a courtyard and a picture of the Alamo dominated the far wall.A massive wooden table filled a good portion of the space.“How many people does it seat?”

“With all the leaves in the table?Fifty.”

What surprised her the most was that furnishings were sturdy, rather than ornate.

“Great-great-grandfather was very much a product of his time, I’m told.He believed in using what was available and making certain things were built to last, especially after the fire.Most of the original furniture is mesquite, and the finishings on them are brass and copper.All the leather used is from the hides of ranch cattle.”

“So this is original?”

“As old as the ranch,” he confirmed.“Of course, through the years, we’ve re-covered some of the pieces.”

“It’s impressive.”

“At Grandma Maisie’s insistence, he built the house in the hope that all of his kids would stay here and raise their families.”

“How many kids did they have?”

“Five.Only my great-grandfather Phillip continued to live here, along with his bride, Anabelle.But everyone returned on the holidays.I’m told that Maisie was never happier than when everyone was home.”

He kept on talking as he led her toward the front of the house.

“The architect designed it as a horseshoe, essentially, so that all interior rooms face the courtyard.”

She moved in for a closer look, but the view was obscured by the driving rain.A concrete fountain and wishing pool were in the middle, and the wind whipped the falling water horizontally.Two small palm trees leaned sideways, and bougainvillea petals blew everywhere.“That has to be a thirty or forty mile an hour gust,” she said.“Good thing they’re only occasional.”

“Let’s head to my study.”

As he’d said, the floors appeared battle-scarred, worn from years of boots and spurs.

History and masculinity defined the room that was on the other side of the hallway.An ornately framed portrait hung on the wall between two windows.Humphrey Sykes, she assumed.On another wall was a rendition of a woman from the same period.Perhaps the man’s wife, Maisie.

“Have a seat,” he invited as he sat behind a substantial desk, something she guessed the original Sykes owner had built.From everything she observed, it appeared that being a Dom was in his DNA, not that something like that was possible.

This office, in color, size and scope, suited him.She couldn’t imagine anything more fitting.

She slid onto a leather chair that faced him and glanced around while he powered up his computer.The wall space was covered with pictures of the ranch—drawings, photos, aerial shots.There were paintings of horses, of cattle.A branding iron was displayed on a shelf.

There didn’t seem to be many mementos belonging to Cade, though she could be wrong about that.

Every time he walked in, he had to be reminded of who he was and the weight of his responsibility.No wonder he took things so seriously.

Her hot toddy had cooled enough so that she could take a long drink.Thunder rumbled, accompanied by a bright flash of lightning.A few seconds later, the overhead lights flickered.“Ominous,” she said.

He looked over the computer screen at her.For a few heartbeats, their gazes were locked.His eyes appeared dark and his expression was unreadable.

The computer made a sound like a bell and he glanced away, severing their connection.

A few seconds later, he crooked his finger, indicating she should come around the desk.Even though she realized that being so close to him was a spectacularly bad idea, she went to stand behind him.

A picture of the local radar filled the screen.The storm cell was enormous, covering most of the county.Most of it was in green, signifying rainstorms, but several patches were yellow and several were red.

“We have a flash flood and tornado watch until eight p.m.”He pushed a button to set the radar into motion.“And it’s moving east.”

Which meant that if she left now, she would be driving through the potentially treacherous weather the entire way back to Corpus Christi.

“I have about fourteen bedrooms you can choose from,” he offered, turning his chair slightly to look at her.

Her heart dropped.