“No!” he said. “No, Callie, be still. Not yet.”
“But, Matt, I can’t stop it. I want—”
He gasped. “Oh, so do I. But be still, absolutely still for a moment. I’ll show you.”
He felt Callie tighten her muscles and hold back, allowing him to lie there, his desire pulsating gently between them. When at last he entered her, she possessed him completely, and Matt felt as if the beauty of their joining linked them with all the beauty in the world.
For a long time afterward they lay still, their perspiration-slick bodies entwined. They’d been lovers, but more than that, they had loved.
“Thank you, John Henry,” she whispered.
“Thank you, John Henry?” Matt said in exasperation.
Smiling, she turned and kissed Matt’s cheek. “For sending me a hot-blooded city man.”
Eight
There was no longer any doubt in Matt’s mind that he was going to marry the woman who sat beside him in the van. He’d tried not to think about what he was doing and where it would lead, but he knew he’d never been so happy in his life.
Matt glanced over at Callie. She was asleep, scrunched up in a crumpled ball in the corner of her seat, smiling as she napped. Another oversized man’s shirt, bright red this time, was caught at the waist and tied like the yellow one she’d worn that morning.
The red shirt brought back the thought of the red convertible stored so carelessly in the barn at Sweet Valley. He’d searched for that car for years, always coming in too late behind another buyer when one of the few Fiestas was unearthed. He’d passed over other, more expensive automobiles because the Fiesta was the one he wanted. Once he owned it, his collection of 1953 General Motors convertibles would be complete.
He’d covered the United States in his search, and when he’d finally located the prize he was seeking he’d found another prize even more rare—Callie Carmichael.
He sighed, wondering how he was going to adjust to being married to such a woman. He’d had a hard enough time leaving her to shower and change before they left. Simply going to work every day would be a wrench. He couldn’t wait to show her off to all those society matrons who’d tried to match him up with their daughters, and all the wives of business associates who’d had more in mind when they offered their friendship than simply advancing their husbands’ careers.
“Matt?”
She was awake.
“Yes?”
“I was just wondering. In all your business dealings, have you ever met my father, Wesley Carmichael?”
“No, I don’t think so. Why?”
She straightened up, threading her fingers through her hair and repositioning her clothing. “I think I’d like to see him sometime, but it’s been years since we talked last, and I don’t know how well a meeting would go. We’ve had some pretty horrible fights in the past.”
“Why don’t I call him for you? We’ll have lunch. I’ll go with you as a negotiator.”
“Thank you, but I think this is something I have to do on my own.” She reached across the van and hugged him, pressing herself against his arm as she kissed his cheek. “For a tough businessman, you’re pretty soft.”
“For a mountain witch, you’re pretty, period.” He grinned. “It’s late. Do you want to stop and get something to eat before we reach the cabin?”
“Nope.” She grinned, and stretched suggestively. “What I want is more important than food. Can’t you drive a little faster?”
He glanced over at her suspiciously. “You want me to end up in jail for speeding?”
“No. Jail isn’t the place I had in mind at all.”
He hurried.
John Henry’s garage was dark when they drove through Sweet Valley. With the van windows open and the evening breeze wafting the smell of honeysuckle and spring flowers, the drive up to the cabin brought the scents of the night inside, and Matt breathed deeply. He’d never been so aware of taste and touch and smell.
They headed up the winding driveway to Callie’s cabin. “Damn!” he thundered. Lights blazed from every part of the cabin. “Somebody’s here.”
He pulled up to the gate that marked the boundary of the yard. Callie got out and opened the gate, closing it behind the van after Matt drove inside. He cut the engine and hurried after Callie. She came to a sudden stop, and he nearly ploughed into her.
“Lacey!” Callie exclaimed. The lavender van parked beside the garden practically glowed in the half-light that spilled out the kitchen window. Callie turned toward Matt, a mixture of happiness and frustration clearly visible on her face.
“Lacey, the clown lady?” Matt asked wryly.
“Oh, Matt. I’m sorry. I knew it was about time for her, but I didn’t expect her tonight. I didn’t want her to be here tonight. I’ll—”
But whatever Callie had in mind was forgotten when the cabin door opened and a pint-sized, real-life Shirley Temple rushed out to greet them.
“Callie! John Henry told me you had a man up here, but I didn’t believe it!”
Matt groaned. Callie’s friends had never learned the fine art of subtlety. Lacey was red-haired, blue-eyed, and charged with energy. When she reached Matt she stood on tiptoes and kissed him warmly on both cheeks before standing back and openly surveying the two of them. “I’m still not sure I believe it. But he’s gorgeous, Callie. You’ve done yourself proud.”
“Believe it,” Matt retorted more gruffly than he’d intended as he pulled Callie possessively into the curve of his arm.
Callie looked from Matt to Lacey in dismay. She’d loved having Lacey stay with her before, yet this time she couldn’t help wishing her friend had waited another week. She’d need Lacey when Matt was gone—but not yet.
Gone? What was she thinking? Callie shivered and pressed herself against Matt. Of course he’d be gone next week. Reality came crashing over her. The weekend was over.
He’d go back to Atlanta. He had a business to run, and it took a lot of his time. No telling when she’d see him again. All weekend she’d blocked out that kind of thinking, refusing to face the inevitable, because she was in love.
Love? She felt the breath leave her lungs, and the ground seemed to shift slightly. How could she have been so foolish? That was exactly what she’d done. Just like her mother, she’d gone and fallen in love with a wealthy man. She’d never intended to love Matthew Holland. Heavens, no. She’d had an adventure, a fantastic weekend, with a man who knew how to satisfy her.
Matt was fond of possessing things, and she had a feeling that deep down he considered her just another collector’s item. It was all too much to think about. Callie touched her forehead and wondered why her skin felt so clammy. Too … many … thoughts …
“Callie? Callie?” She heard Lacey’s voice as though she were calling from far away.
“Wake up, sweetheart.” That was Matt’s voice, she realized, and it was full of barely controlled fear,
Swirling through a sea of darkness, Callie forced herself back to the light.
What had happened? Matt was in one of the rocking chairs on the porch, holding her in his lap. Lacey was about to wipe her face with a damp cloth.
“Hey, kid, are you all right?” Lacey brought the cloth around the back of her neck and down into the V of her open shirt. Matt stroked her forehead. Callie felt his fingers tremble.
“I’m fine. Good heavens, what happened?”
“You passed out,” Matt said gruffly. “I think I’ll put you back in the van and take you down to that doctor in town.”
“No, Matt,” she insisted, pulling herself upright in his lap. “I just had a dizzy spell. I’m perfectly all right now, but I think I’d like to lie down for a while.”
“Fine.” Matt lifted her easily and strode through the tiny living room, only half-seeing the mounds of colorful materials and unfinished clowns on the couch and floor. He went into the bedroom and placed Callie on the soft mattress, then sat down beside her, holding her hands tightly. Callie closed h
er eyes. “You relax while I bring in our bags. We’ll get a good night’s sleep, and tomorrow we’ll pack whatever you need and take it back to Atlanta with us. I’ll have my doctor check you out there.”
“Fine,” Callie whispered wearily, without paying attention. She sensed Lacey standing in the doorway, but she didn’t open her eyes.
“For the time being, we’ll get Lacey to look after William and Esmeralda,” Matt said in a soothing voice. Callie frowned. He was trying to take charge, just as he had in Helen as they’d delivered her baskets. “Later, when Lacey’s ready to leave, we’ll have to make some kind of decision about what to do.”
Callie finally got her overwrought mind to work properly. “What do you mean, Matthew, by later?”
“Well, I can’t run a business from up here, Callie. We’ll have to live in Atlanta.”
“Live in Atlanta?” Callie opened her eyes and raised herself up, all weakness leaving her in a flood of icy emotion as she realized exactly what he intended.
“Callie, you’ll have to come with me. I want to marry you.”
“Why?”
“Because I love you.” He hadn’t meant to say it at quite this time. Matt glanced over as Lacey tiptoed away and closed the door, giving them privacy.
“No!” Callie’s voice was low and angry.
“Callie,” Matt began.
“I said no, Matthew Holland. This is my house, my bed, and my body, and I’ll decide what happens to each of them. I’m not going to Atlanta.” She closed her eyes to shut out the frown on his face. “I told you in the beginning how I felt about wealth and success. I’m not going to marry you and I’m not going anywhere.”
“I see,” Matt said coolly. “Apparently I misunderstood what was happening. I thought you were feeling the same things I was. I hadn’t planned this any more than you, but it happened.”
“I never tried to fool you, Matt. You know that I care, that I share the same feelings, but I can’t do what you want. You’re too possessive. I’m crazy about you, but you want to change me too much.”
“I see,” he said slowly. “And what did you plan for us? Did you expect us to come back tonight, part company, and go our separate ways as though nothing had happened?”
“I don’t know,” Callie admitted, realizing that the moment she hadn’t wanted to face had arrived. She glanced toward the door, looking for Lacey to give her the support she so desperately needed.
She was hanging on by a thread. The very thought of Matt’s leaving her was cutting her heart into tiny slivers, but she knew that she didn’t belong back in Atlanta with him, and she couldn’t adjust to his life-style.
Matt watched her, seeing the pain she was trying so hard to conceal. He loved her. He’d accepted that reality. He’d faced it and opened himself up to her because he’d believed that underneath all her foolishness about wealth and success, she felt something for him too.
“Couldn’t we be friends, Matt? I mean, that’s the modern thing to do, isn’t it? You could come up on weekends for a while, and we could see how things develop.”
“Friends? Don’t you mean casual lovers, Callie? We’d share an occasional roll in the hay in between the times when you’re protesting something or making baskets or entertaining your other ‘friends.’ ”
“You want to trap me,” she said in a desperate voice. “You don’t want me to be myself!”
“I want you to come back to the real world!” Matt took a deep breath and shook his head. “Do you honestly think I could join your little band of refugees, dropping in and out of your life? No! As old-fashioned as it sounds, I want marriage and a commitment.”
He was losing her. He could see the fear in her eyes, and it was his fault. He’d barged ahead, taking charge, as he’d always done, without realizing that he was moving too fast.
“Callie, I love you. I’m not your father or Tyler. I won’t disappoint you. I won’t smother you. I don’t know how to get through this wall you’ve built around yourself.”
“You want to change me,” she insisted.
“You’ve changed me, haven’t you? Not all change is bad. You’ve made me see myself clearly. From the day we met I began to change.”
He captured her mouth in an angry, anguished kiss. He devoured her, took her refusal and turned it into a force that burned inside the deepest part of her. His own anger met the depth of Callie’s fear and exploded into a passion that quickly swept over both of them. This loving was not gentle and giving; it was a fire fed with the fury of his hurt, and he fanned it into an awesome measure of his despair.
“Lacey?” she whispered.
“To hell with Lacey.” He groaned, and stripped away the clothing that separated them.
“Matt, take me, just make love to me one more time.…”
“Not just one more time.” He plunged wildly inside her, feeling the moist heat of her surround and capture him as he poured his pain into her with a vengeance that he could not control.
Callie tried to hold back, to hold on to some thread of reason. She tightened her muscles and willed her body to remain stiff and unresponsive. She tried, but her body refused to comply with her directives. Her heart began to pound, and every nerve ending in her body began to vibrate with need. The very touch of the sheet beneath her back set off spasms of desire, and she could hold back no longer.
Rising to meet him, she abandoned herself to the torrential flood she felt roaring within, and in some distant part of her mind she heard her moans of need turn into cries of triumph as she was swept away in a shudder of pure ecstasy.
As Matt relaxed on top of her she hugged him tightly. He was right. He needed her. Nothing else mattered. She couldn’t lose this man. She’d learned to love the vulnerable little boy who’d worked nonstop to regain what his father had lost. In his own way he was as injured by his past as she was by hers. Somehow they’d work it out.
And then he pulled away, lifted himself from her body and her bed. Callie sought his gaze, ready to tell him that she had been wrong, ready until she saw the look of bitterness and disgust etched in his stony face.
“I’m sorry, Callie. That was inexcusable of me. Maybe an occasional night of physical release is enough for you, but it’s not for me. I want marriage and children. I want you in my bed every night, and in every hour of my life. I want you in Atlanta.”
“That won’t work for me, Matthew.” She felt tears slide down her cheeks.
“Someday you may learn that love is enduring and encompassing. I want that enduring kind of love where two people grow together. It could have been very special between us, Callie. There’s nothing wrong with the old ideals of love and marriage. But you’re a free spirit, and I’ve learned to collect only that which withstands the test of time.”
Callie pulled a quilt across her naked body and silently watched him dress. When he finished he turned and looked at her, his eyes glittering “Good-bye, Matthew,” she whispered.
He started to say something, then stopped, unable to speak. “I love you,” he finally managed to say, and walked out.
Matt pitched Callie’s bag onto the porch. He touched his cheek and realized that tears were rolling down his face. He was crying. The last time he’d cried had been at the death of his father.
Oh, Lord, what had he done? He couldn’t believe what had just happened. Callie Carmichael was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he’d ruined their relationship.
“Your name’s Matt, isn’t it?”
The voice startled him. He’d forgotten that they weren’t alone. The woman standing in the shadows behind him was soft-spoken and hesitant.
“Yes. I’m afraid I didn’t remember that you were here, Miss …”
“Just Lacey.”
“Lacey. You’ll have to forgive our poor display of … whatever the hell it was.”
“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if I caused a problem between you and Callie. If I’d known, I’d never have come.”
“You d
idn’t cause the problem,” Matt admitted, “and if it hadn’t been you, it would have been someone else. This would have happened sooner or later, and I suppose it’s just as well that it happened now, before things went any further.”
“You’re in love with Callie?”
“I don’t suppose it matters if I tell you. Yes, I’m in love with her. From the first time I saw her standing here in the sunlight in her silly overall cut-offs I’ve been acting like some love-sick teenager.” He smiled bitterly. “She thought that John Henry had sent me to ‘court’ her. As it turned out, I haven’t been able to think of anything or anyone else.”
“But she’s very independent. Maybe you just need to give her some time.”
“No,” Matt said with finality. “Callie doesn’t want me or anything I represent, and I can’t change what I am, not even for her. Look after her, Lacey.”
“I will, Matt, and who knows, she may find out that life isn’t so good without love.”
Callie paced up and down the porch, stopping every few minutes to shade her eyes and peer off into the distance. The heat was unbearable. It seemed that August was determined to break all records for high temperatures. She wiped the perspiration from her forehead and caught at the post holding up the roof.
Not only had the heat jumped off the thermometer, but it seemed to be affecting her strangely. She felt totally off balance. It was nothing but her body protesting the absence of Matt’s touch, she told herself as she turned and dropped into the rocker.
“Don’t you think it would help if you told me about Matt?” Lacey asked from her spot on the edge of the porch. She took a sewing needle out of the corner of her mouth and quit arranging pleats in the piece of satin she held. “I’ve been around here for six weeks, and I’m getting tired of watching you stare off down the driveway all the time, Callie.”
“What is there to talk about?” Callie knew she sounded peevish and short-tempered. “Sorry. I’m a beast,” she muttered.
“Yep, but I like you anyhow. I’m just worried. For the last six weeks I’ve watched you come totally unglued. You don’t sleep. You went down to join that protest group at City Hall and got there on the wrong day, and on top of that, you didn’t even remember to take your sign. You don’t eat, and what you do eat seems to come back up before you get it down.”
Too Hot to Handle: A Loveswept Classic Romance Page 13
