Touch the Wind Read Free Page B

voice.
    Sheila moved farther into the room, avoiding for the moment her mother’s astute gaze. She never made the mistake of underestimating her mother. While seeming to stand in her husband’s shadow, Constance Rogers was a power in her own right. It was her intelligence and social acumen, as well as her flair for public relations, that had enabled her husband to become so successful and powerful.
    “Yes, I saw Brad,” Sheila acknowledged, sitting down on the velvet-covered loveseat. “I’d like you to talk to Dad about him.”
    “Why?” her mother countered with a beguilingly curious smile that didn’t fool Sheila for an instant.
    “To persuade him to give up the idea that Brad and I have to wait a year before we get married,” she answered smoothly.
    “But I see nothing wrong with the idea.” Constance Rogers walked to the wing-backed chair near the loveseat, spreading out the long skirt of her robe as she sat down.
    Crossing her legs, Sheila challenged, “Are you against my marrying Brad, too?”
    “Darling, I wouldn’t dream of driving you into thatman’s arms by forbidding you to marry him,” her mother declared with a throaty laugh. “For the life of me, I can’t understand what it is that you see in him. There are so many men in Texas who could offer you much more and would be much more suitable. And you could have any one of them you wanted.”
    “I don’t want them. I want Brad,” she insisted. Her fingers impatiently plucked at the corner of a throw pillow.
    “Why, when there are so many others, do you want him?” Constance sighed, the corners of her perfectly outlined mouth turning upward in a sad smile.
    “Because he’s a challenge to me.” Sheila blurted out the truth without thinking.
    She was never entirely sure of him. He would not indulge her every whim, nor treat her with the adoration she was accustomed to receiving almost from birth. Their relationship had been a constant struggle between two equally strong personalities with either the certain winner. This provided the spice, but it wasn’t the reason Sheila wanted to marry him.
    “What I don’t understand,” Sheila continued, “is what you and Father have against Brad.”
    Her mother hesitated, then answered with equal frankness. “He is overbearing and abrasive.”
    Sheila relaxed against the cushions, a gleam in her cat-gold eyes. “Isn’t that what your parents said about Dad before you eloped with him? He lacked culture, social refinement, and political insight, and look what influence you have had on him. You made Dad the man he is today.”
    “You can’t compare the two,” her mother insisted.
    “Why?” Sheila argued. “Brad is ambitious.”
    “I think the correct adjective is money-hungry.” Just then Sheila’s father entered the room, pausing beside his wife’s chair to kiss her upturned cheek.
    Recovering from her momentary surprise at his appearance, Sheila flashed a reply. “I don’t believe that is a bad trait. After all, Dad, aren’t you always looking for a means to turn a profit?”
    “The difference is that I’m willing to work for it. Your boyfriend prefers to get it the easy way,” he responded calmly.
    “How can you say that?” Sheila smouldered indignantly. “Look at how he’s worked and struggled to obtain his degree.”
    The character lines in her father’s sun-tanned face crinkled in an absent smile. “Yes, I’ve often wondered why a political science major would be working in a hotel. Since he lives here in the state capital, it’s always seemed to me that if he were truly interested in his proposed profession he would be working in a government office.”
    “An excellent point, E.J.” Constance Rogers patted her husband’s hand that rested affectionately on her shoulder.
    “Brad has worked in government offices before, but the hours conflicted with his classes,” Sheila defended.
    “Really?” her father drawled in dry disbelief. “I pride myself on my ability to