Queen For A Night Read Free Page B

demanded to be the bride or the queen when they played as kids, and screamed until she got her way. The few times Caroline had worn the veil or the crown was when Uncle Tony forced his daughter to give them up.
    Murielle was not exactly happy about losing her crown now, and who could blame her? Yet she had sent her to persuade Ross to take her dad’s place for this year’s ball while knowing Caroline would, in all likelihood, reign at his side.
    “I still love Mardi Gras,” she went on after a moment. “It's a special time, a few short days when people have whole-hearted permission to laugh and dance or act like idiots if that's what they want. It's supposed to be a farewell to things of the flesh before Lent and Easter, but it's always been more than that. Everybody needs escape, whether we realize it or not. We need to let everything go, to forget our worries and feel nothing except the absolute joy of being alive. If we don't, we risk—as a wise old Greek once put it—going mad without knowing it.”
    “I doubt you're in any danger.” The words were dry.
    She smiled. “You never can tell. But what I want, I think, if I can say it without sounding silly, is to be in the big, wide middle of all the fun of Mardi Gras. To be, for just one night, the queen of the revel.”

    Ross was silent as he gave the woman on the sofa his full attention. Not that he’d been exactly ignoring her before; he should have seen that half-drowned log sooner. It was a wonder it hadn’t ripped the bottom out of the boat.
    But Caroline Saucier here on L’escapade with him—who’d have believed it. He’d thought he was seeing things when he looked up and saw her standing there, fresh and bright as the early spring sunshine with her gold-streaked hair, coffee-brown eyes and slender shape outlined by an ankle-length cotton knit T-shirt dress in sunshine yellow. The last had molded her shape with downright sinful perfection, especially as she faced the wind off the water.
    Tony’s sweet Caro. The old man had warned Ross away from her years ago. But then he’d warned most of the guys in Bacardville to keep their hands to themselves around her. Yes, and around his daughter, too, of course.
    They’d been quite a pair, Caroline and Murielle. Tony’s daughter had been polished, trendy, outgoing, a ringleader in the popular crowd. Caroline had been quieter, with a more natural brand of attraction. The softness in her eyes and tenderness in her smile made a guy feel as if he had her full attention, was maybe the only person on earth that mattered to her. She’d been a forever or nothing kind of girl, even back then. One look at her, and the most randy idiot in town knew a quickie on the back seat wasn’t happening.
    No wonder her Uncle Tony had stood guard like a pit bull. Ross understood that a lot better now than he had back then.
    “I have a daughter,” he said, the words abrupt as he narrowed his eyes to shield his expression.
    Caroline gave a quick nod. “I saw her earlier. She was having a tea party with your housekeeper and a little friend.”
    “Tess is five now. I don't know if she ever plays at being a Mardi Gras queen. Guess I should ask her.”
    “You’re raising her alone now, I think Uncle Tony said.”
    “Have been since she was a few weeks old.” He gave her his back as he returned his attention to the winding bayou. “Her mother was from New Orleans, thought Bacardville was the-back-of-beyond. Sheila went to the city at least once a week to have her hair done and so on. She left Tess with the housekeeper and took off early one foggy morning. She rear-ended a sugar cane truck.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    The words, so quiet yet sincere, rippled down his spine like a caress. “Yeah, so am I.” He paused, went on before he could think better of it. “Tony thinks Tess needs a mother.”
    “She seemed happy enough when I saw her.”
    “Can’t miss what she never really had, right? That’s what I told Tony, but he