Long, Tall Texans: Stanton ; Long, Tall Texans: Garon

by Diana Palmer

  She cocked her head at him. “I don’t understand.”

  His eyebrows arched. “Don’t you know why your nipples get so hard?”

  She shifted. “Well… I guess I don’t, really.”

  “A woman’s body shows desire in a different way than a man’s does,” he explained gently. “Yours is visible here.” He touched her breast lightly. “That’s what happened that long-ago Christmas Eve. I looked at you and your nipples went hard under that slinky dress. I knew you wanted me before I ever touched you.”

  “Oh!”

  He laughed softly. “You have beautiful breasts, Tat,” he said, gazing at them with quiet delight. “I love kissing them.” He traced around one and his face grew thoughtful, almost somber.

  “What are you thinking?” she asked.

  “I was thinking about the baby you had in your arms in Ngawa,” he said quietly. “And wondering how it would be to watch you breast-feed ours.”

  Her breath caught.

  He looked up into her eyes. “Would you breast-feed him?”

  She was so choked with feeling that she could only nod.

  He smoothed back the disheveled blond hair from her face. “I hope we made a baby, Tat,” he said gently. “I want one with all my heart.”

  “So…do I.” Tears ran down her cheeks.

  He kissed them all away. “Everything is going to be all right,” he promised her. “I’ll only be away for a few days, a week or two at the most. When I get back, we’ll be married immediately.”

  She pressed close to him, shivering. “I’ll die if something happens to you. I mean it.”

  He hugged her close, his eye closing as he kissed her soft throat. “Nothing is going to happen. Not now. We have a long and happy life ahead of us.” He lifted his head. “I’ll have to make some changes,” he added, seeing the quiet terror in her face. “I won’t have you worried like this again. I swear it.”

  She traced the hard, beloved lines of his face. “You’re my whole life, Stanton,” she whispered, her lips trembling. “I can’t lose you again…!”

  His mouth ground down into hers. “You won’t,” he said huskily. “You’ll never lose me. Never!”

  He wrapped her up tight and held her until the fear subsided. But it was still there, coiled up in her heart like a serpent hatching, waiting to break loose. She’d never had premonitions before, but she was afraid for him to go. And she couldn’t do a thing to stop him.

  * * *

  HE WAS PACKED and dressed when she woke the next morning, her sleep disturbed by sounds of movement.

  She looked up. He had his suitcase ready and he was standing over her, wearing khakis, looking so sexy that her breath caught at just the sight of him.

  “You’re bad for my ego,” he mused, sitting down beside her to strip away the covers so that he could look at her beautiful, nude body. “You’ll make me strut, looking at me like that.”

  “You’re so gorgeous,” she laughed, but it had a hollow sound.

  “Not like you, sweet,” he whispered. He bent and put his mouth over her soft breast, his tongue working tenderly at the nipple. He raised his head and smiled at her rapt expression.

  “Don’t you make eyes at other women,” she said firmly, and her eyes twinkled. “You belong to somebody.”

  “I belong to you, my darling,” he said huskily. His fingers touched her lovely face as if they wanted to memorize it. “And you belong to me. When Carvajal comes back, you tell him that,” he added with a flash of jealousy in his pale brown eye.

  She smiled lazily. “He’ll know it just by looking at me. I can’t hide what I feel. I never could.”

  He bent and brushed his mouth tenderly over hers, and then not so tenderly, with passion and hunger and remorse.

  He got up at once, before she could tempt him back into the bed. “I have to go. This isn’t my decision, or my choice. If it was, I couldn’t be got out of here with ropes.”

  “I know.”

  His eye swept down the length of her and he shivered. “I won’t be long. Not if I have to get them to bring in somebody else for me to train. This is the last job of this kind that I’ll ever take.”

  “Can you call me?” she asked. “Can I call you?”

  He smiled. “I can call you. I’ll have to do it covertly, so we won’t be able to chat much. But I will keep in touch.”

  “All right.”

  He drew in a long breath. “Best I go, now, while I still can. I love you,” he added curtly. “Don’t ever forget that, no matter what happens—you hear me, Tat?”

  “I hear you. I love you, too.”

  His eyes swept over her one last time. He had a feeling of such sadness that it almost knocked him to his knees, as if he knew something tragic lay ahead, but not what.

  “So long, Tat.”

  He picked up his kit and walked out the door, closing it behind him. He didn’t look back. Clarisse waited until she heard the rental car start up and drive away before she let the hot tears run down her face.

  * * *

  THE FIRST DAY without him was like hitting a stone wall headfirst. She couldn’t settle anywhere. She tried to watch television, but she couldn’t bear to sit still. She cooked, but she couldn’t eat. She walked near the house, her arms wrapped tight around herself, drowning in memories so sweet that they made her ache.

  Just when she thought loneliness might actually kill her, a car drove up out front. She knew it wasn’t Rourke, but she ran to the door just the same.

  Peg Grange got out of her limousine and ran to meet Clarisse, her arms open. “Hi!” she exclaimed. “Did you think I’d forgotten you?”

  Clarisse hugged her and hugged her. “Oh, I’m so glad to see you!” she exclaimed. “Rourke’s gone off on a mission and I’m scared to death for him…”

  Peg’s eyes widened. “Rourke…?”

  Clarisse held out her left hand and flushed. “It was his mother’s. We’re engaged. We were supposed to be married tomorrow, but then he got a phone call and he was asked to go somewhere to help. He was the only person who could go.”

  “You’re engaged. To Rourke.” Peg was still trying to digest it. “But he hates you…!”

  Clarisse’s eyes were full of wonder. “He thought we were related,” she said. “Somebody told him we were. But he found out the truth and came looking for me.” She flushed. “I still can’t believe it. He loves me. He wants children with me.”

  “Now a lot of things become clear,” Peg laughed softly. “I couldn’t understand the way he was with you when they were invading Barrera. He looked at you as if you were his greatest treasure. He was wild when he knew you’d been hurt. I remember, he didn’t even glance at anyone else when he came into the camp—he headed straight for you.” She sighed. “Winslow was there when the man who tortured you came rolling down the steps at the general’s headquarters. He said he’d never seen Rourke like that. He was hell-bent on avenging you.” She smiled. “Now it makes sense. He loved you.”

  “I can’t imagine who could have told him such a thing,” she confessed. “At first I thought perhaps K.C. did, but K.C. likes me…”

  “The important thing is that it’s settled now,” Peg said.

  Clarisse was staring pointedly at the other woman’s stomach.

  “Yes,” Peg laughed. “I’m pregnant. We’re both over the moon! I don’t care what gender the baby is, I’m just so happy!”

  “I’m happy for you. I hope very much to be in a similar condition soon. Want some decaf?” she added with a grin.

  “I’d love some!”

  * * *

  CLARISSE LED HER into the house and they sat talking for a long time, going over the amazing path they’d both taken from misery to joy.

  “He actually followed me here
from Barrera,” Clarisse sighed, smiling. “I was sure that he was only bent on conquest. You know, the one woman he wanted and couldn’t have. But it wasn’t like that at all.” She flushed and lowered her eyes. “Things…sort of got out of control.”

  “You’re getting married,” Peg replied warmly. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? You’ll both love a child.”

  “I want one more than anything. I just wish they’d waited a few more days to call him back to work.”

  “Who does he work for?” Peg asked.

  Clarisse shook her head. “I’ve never known. He did some intelligence work for K.C. in the past, but I think he’s working for somebody else now. He never talks about it.”

  “It’s classified stuff, I imagine,” Peg said. “General Machado’s son, Rick Marquez, is married to the daughter of the head of the CIA. We know about classified.” She grinned.

  “How’s your dad?” Clarisse asked. “We heard that you and Winslow were in the States…”

  “He’s going to be fine,” she said. “It was his gallbladder. They had to take it out. He had some really bad attacks until they found out what was causing them. I didn’t realize how serious it could be.”

  “I’m glad that he’s going to be okay. The awards ceremony was very nice. We all got medals.”

  “The general sent ours to us, express,” she laughed. “We’re having them framed. Something to brag about to our children when they’re old enough.”

  “Life is funny,” Clarisse said warmly.

  “Indeed it is.”

  * * *

  THE DAYS PASSED slowly after that. Clarisse went shopping, did the housework, worked in her flower garden. But mostly she missed Rourke.

  He did phone every other night, although the conversations were necessarily brief.

  “Miss me?” he teased during the last call.

  “So much that I’m breaking out in hives,” she laughed. “When are you coming home?”

  “Home.” There was a smile in his deep voice. “Wherever you are will be home, Tat. I miss you so much.”

  “I miss you, too.”

  “So, are you pregnant yet?” he asked wickedly.

  “I don’t know,” she laughed.

  “If you aren’t, it’s not my fault,” he murmured drily. “I’m looking forward to having a child of my own.”

  “So am I.”

  “We’ll spoil him rotten.”

  “I know.”

  “I wish we could… Wait a sec.” He covered the microphone with a big hand, and there was mumbled conversation. “Damn! He’s skipped the country. Headed out to a certain Middle Eastern country that I don’t dare name, and we have to get packed and go after him. Listen, sweetheart, I’ll call you the minute I can, okay?”

  “Okay. Please be careful!”

  “I will. I promise. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  The line went dead.

  She hung up and glared at the telephone. “Damn!” she said fervently.

  * * *

  THE WEEK TURNED into weeks. She heard from Rourke one more time, a terse conversation that had undertones of anger and exasperation at the time the project was taking. He promised to phone her again as soon as he could, but they were required to maintain radio silence for the next few days. It would be all right, he promised. He was safe and he wasn’t taking chances. He’d be home, very soon.

  She wanted to believe him, but his quick job seemed to be turning into a career. She’d wanted to tell him during their last conversation that he needed to hurry up. She was losing her breakfast daily and her waistline was increasing. She was almost certain that she was pregnant.

  * * *

  IN THE MIDDLE of her worry, Ruy Carvajal came home from Argentina. The minute he saw her, he was worried.

  “You’ve lost weight,” he exclaimed. “And you look…terrible. Forgive me…”

  She managed a smile. “I’m just pregnant, Ruy, that’s all.” She held up her engagement ring. “We were supposed to be married just before Rourke left on a job overseas. He’s trying to get back, but the job seems to be growing more complicated by the minute.”

  He frowned. “You’re certain that he does intend marriage?” he asked suspiciously.

  She was less certain than ever. She grimaced. “This was his mother’s engagement ring,” she said softly, touching it. “It’s the most precious thing he owns.”

  He sighed. “Then perhaps I misjudge him.” He cocked his head and studied her, smiling softly. “Well, if things don’t work out, I will marry you and help you raise your child,” he said gently. “It is the closest I would ever be to having one of my own.” His voice was sad.

  “If things don’t work out,” she said gently, “I’ll take you up on that.”

  He smiled.

  “How was your trip?” she asked, to divert him. “I’ll make coffee and you can tell me all about it.”

  * * *

  ANOTHER TWO WEEKS went by with no word from Rourke. Clarisse didn’t even know how to contact him. She’d tried using his cell phone number, the one she had, but it was never answered. In desperation, she contacted K.C. in Nairobi.

  “No, I haven’t heard from him, either,” K.C. replied solemnly. “I have to confess that I’m concerned. It isn’t like Rourke to keep me in the dark. I have top secret clearance. Even if he couldn’t tell you what’s going on, he could talk to me. I haven’t heard from him in two weeks.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  “He said you were getting married.”

  She laughed. “Yes. I’m wearing his mother’s engagement ring. I can’t even tell you how happy I am. It’s like every dream I’ve ever had in my life came true. I love him so!”

  “No news there,” he replied. “He feels exactly the same. All he talked about was getting to you in Barrera, making you listen, getting you back in his life. He was like a poor man who’d just won the lottery.”

  She smiled at the words. “Now I do feel better. I wondered, you see, if maybe he’d had second thoughts…”

  “The man who left here for Barrera several weeks ago wasn’t looking for ways out of a relationship, Clarisse,” he chuckled.

  “I suppose not.”

  “Where are you two going to live?”

  “I suggested Nairobi,” she said. “When the kids come along, it would be nice for them to have at least a grandparent around. There’s nobody left on my side of the family, you know.”

  There was a pause. “That’s nice of you. I’d love being a grandfather. I’m still in the early stages of fatherhood. I love it,” he laughed. “I always suspected Rourke was mine, but I never had the guts to get the tests done. I wanted it too much.”

  “So did he. You’re all he ever talked about.”

  “Sometimes,” he said, “life is good.”

  “Sometimes it is. If you hear anything, anything at all…?”

  “I’ll certainly phone you,” he replied. “And the minute he comes home, I’ll send a plane for you.”

  “That would be so kind,” she said.

  “We’ll have one hell of a celebration,” he said. “A welcome home and engagement party, all rolled into one.”

  “I can’t wait!”

  He chuckled. “Neither can I. It shouldn’t be much longer, surely.”

  “That’s what I’m hoping.”

  * * *

  BUT ROURKE DIDN’T CALL. Clarisse felt a sense of foreboding that wouldn’t go away. A man as passionately involved with a woman as Rourke was with her didn’t just stop communicating all at once. She didn’t even consider that there might be another woman. She was as certain of Rourke’s feelings as she was of her own. But why didn’t he call? Had something gone wrong? Was he hurt, injured, maybe dyin
g?

  She was pacing. Ruy had cooked a nice stew for them and coaxed her to eat some of it. “You have to stop this,” he said, concerned. “If not for your own sake, for the child’s.”

  She grimaced. He’d done the blood test himself, without revealing to anyone who the patient was. She was very definitely pregnant. There was that worry along with the concern for Rourke. Even in a city the size of Manaus, there were many people who knew Clarisse’s family and would remember her saintly mother. It would be unspeakable for her to fall pregnant out of wedlock. She would never get over the disgrace.

  “Listen to me,” Ruy said quietly, “if he doesn’t come back, we’ll get married in a civil service,” he added. “It won’t be binding as it would if we married in the holy church. If he does come back, I’ll step aside. But we must not wait too much longer.”

  She was wan and depressed, but she smiled at him. “Dear Ruy,” she said gently. “I wish I could care for you the way you want me to.”

  He shrugged. “It is as well,” he replied with resignation. “I could only give you a half life, never a child or a full relationship.” He smiled sadly. “But it would honor me to have people think I was the father of your child, even if it is a fiction. It is difficult to reach my age among the people I treat, to have them wonder why I do not marry and have a family of my own. We would be helping each other. A marriage of friends.”

  She reached out and touched his dark hand gently. “If worse comes to worse, I would be honored to marry you. And grateful for the kindness.”

  His hand curled over hers. “But perhaps it will not even be necessary,” he said, trying to comfort her. “Surely you will hear from him soon.”

  “I pray that I will,” she said. “If he’s just alive,” she added, her eyes dark blue with worry. “That’s all I ask. Just for him to live, even if I lose him…!”

  Almost as if in answer to the prayer, the telephone rang, making her jump.

  She ran to pick it up. “Yes?”

  There was a pause. “Clarisse, it’s K.C….”

  “How is he? Is he alive?” she burst out.

  He drew in a breath. “Yes. He’s alive. They’re airlifting him home to Nairobi. It was touch and go for a few days. I didn’t know, or we’d both have gone to see him in Germany. You see, they didn’t know he had family,” he ground out. “I haven’t made it public yet that I’m his father, so nobody was even notified.”