Books By Diana Palmer

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Books By Diana Palmer Page 73

by Palmer, Diana


  "Randall isn't an art lover," Anna said, defending him wanly. "He isn't musical, either."

  "And you do love your classics, don't you, dar­ling?" Polly sighed, frowning. "Anna, I don't like to interfere, but you're seeing a lot of Randall lately. Two dates this week. It isn't because of Evan, is it?"

  Anna started, her face coloring. "What do you mean?"

  Polly's eyes narrowed shrewdly on her daughter's face. "Evan must have hurt you very badly at that party. But don't let hurt pride send you running to the first man who shows an interest, will you? Ran­dall's a fine man, but he has an eye to the main chance and he's something of a playboy."

  "He might be, but he's not in Evan's league," Anna said bitterly.

  "Evan at least sticks to women who know the score," came the dry reply. "He doesn't involve himself with innocents."

  Anna kept her eyes down. It wouldn't do to tell her mother just how involved he'd been with her that day in the art gallery. "Evan is past history. I'm not running after him in dogged pursuit anymore, and he seems to find that a relief. I haven't seen him in...ages."

  "He's been in Denver," Polly mentioned care­lessly. "Some conference or other. Donald was sup­posed to go, Harden told me, but Evan packed a bag last Thursday and took off before he could argue. A very sudden trip."

  Anna had to fight not to give herself away. Last Thursday had been the day he'd kissed her so hun­grily. Had he been obliged to run for fear that she might come hurrying after him for more? She flushed. Well, he needn't worry, she wasn't about to hassle him.

  "Are you listening, darling?" Polly asked.

  Anna lifted a serene face, smiling. "Of course."

  "You worry me lately. You really do."

  "No need. I'm just enjoying my new job, and growing up."

  "You've done that, with a vengeance," Polly had to admit, noticing the elegant hairdo, the sleek silk pantsuit of a blue that matched Anna's eyes. "You've changed before my very eyes."

  "I'm almost twenty," she reminded Polly.

  "Yes. You make me feel old. I sent your father a photo of you just last month, to show him how ele­gant you look." The smile faded and she touched her water glass absently. "He's based in Atlanta now. He said they might move him back to Houston. If they do, he'll come and see you."

  "He doesn't date," Anna mused. "You don't, ei­ther. But neither one of you will give an inch. Don't you miss him?"

  "More than you know." Polly got up, all business. "But life goes on, my darling. I have to go over some figures in the study."

  Anna watched her go with sad eyes. Polly had never gotten over her husband and never would. There was the hope that they might someday rec­oncile, but Anna knew it was a long shot. Mean­while, she felt her mother's pain keenly.

  She left the gallery after work the next day feeling oddly restless. Randall was supposed to take her out that evening, but he'd called to cancel their date with some vague mention of night duty. It didn't matter; she wasn't in love with him, but lately he seemed to make a habit of canceling dates at the last minute, and she wondered if he was really working that much.

  Her car wouldn't start, for the first time in mem­ory. She got out and glared at it, angrily kicking a tire. It was cloudy and drizzling rain, and now she'd have to walk all the way back to the gallery to use the phone.

  The roar of a truck caught her attention, and she turned just in time to see Evan pull up beside her in one of the ranch pickups with the Tremayne com­pany's emblem on the side in bold red lettering.

  "Got problems?" he asked tersely, slamming his black Stetson over one eye as he joined her. He was in working gear, chambray shirt, tight jeans, black boots and leather batwing chaps. His spurs made a faint jingling sound as he paused beside her.

  "No," she lied, avoiding his eyes. "I just forgot something in the office."

  His dark eyes narrowed. He knew she was lying, he could see it in the way she hesitated. Incredible that she was actually trying to avoid him.

  "Your car won't start," he said flatly. "No use lying about it. I was passing when you got out and kicked it."

  Her face flamed. She wouldn't meet his eyes. "I'm going to call the garage. They'll get it started."

  "I'll run you over there. Get in."

  "I don't want—!"

  He caught her arm roughly and drew her against him, so close that she could feel the powerful threat of his body as he looked down into her shocked eyes.

  "You want me," he said harshly. "I know it and so do you. Avoiding me doesn't change that. I can feel it the minute I touch you."

  Her lower lip trembled "Can't you just leave me alone?" she asked brokenly. "I know you don't want me! Do you have to make a point of it every time you see me?"

  Her pain made him feel guilty. He didn't under­stand his own actions. The last thing he wanted to do was to hurt or humiliate her. But Denver hadn't rid him of his need for her. He hadn't been able to touch the woman who'd clung to him there. He'd intended to. He'd taken her back to his room, fed her drinks, flattered her. But when he'd pulled her into his arms and started kissing her, nothing happened. His body, for the first time, had failed him. He'd sent the woman away and cursed Anna until his voice had gone hoarse. All he could think about was the taste of her mouth. It had enraged him so much that he could hardly function for the rest of the conference, and he'd come home still fuming. His unfortunate passion for Anna was cramping his style in an un­believable way.

  His dark eyes fell to her mouth and lingered there, his fingers gripping her arm so tightly that they left bruises. "You'd give me anything I wanted," he said huskily. "Do you think I don't know how vulnerable

  you are?"

  She shivered. This wasn't the Evan she knew. This man was a stranger, sensual, domineering, frighten­ing. "This isn't fair, Evan," she choked.

  "Is what you do to me fair?" he asked coldly.

  "I...haven't done anything to you, except avoid you," she said miserably. "I thought that was what you wanted."

  His other hand moved to her waist and drew her slowly against the powerful length of him, against lean muscle that rippled where she touched it. She gasped as her hand caught at his shirt, her eyes going involuntarily to the thick pelt of hair that showed in the opening at the collar.

  "This is what I want," he said, his voice deep and quiet, as his hand slid to the base of her spine and moved her hips gently against his. He caught his breath audibly as the feel of her kindled the kind of arousal he hadn't felt since his sixteenth birthday. He laughed bitterly at the irony of it, because he couldn't seem to feel that with another woman, having had a taste of Anna.

  "It isn't funny," she moaned, pushing at his chest with her face gone scarlet. "Evan, stop!"

  His hand withdrew, but he still had her by the arm. "Funny, isn't it?" he asked, his eyes glittering. "The joke of the century, that a virgin should have that effect on me when an experienced woman can't even..." He bit off the words, suddenly pushing Anna away. He was breathing roughly, and his arousal was so obvious that Anna averted her eyes in something like panic. He saw her embarrassment, and it angered him.

  "I have to go," she said unsteadily.

  "Still seeing the beloved physician?" he asked.

  She wouldn't look at him. "If you mean Randall, yes."

  "Why don't you marry him? It would get you out of my hair, at least."

  Tears stung her eyes. "I've been out of your hair for weeks, haven't you noticed?" she asked, glaring up at him. His eyes were shadowed, but she thought she saw the flicker of his eyelashes. "I haven't come near you! It's you who are harassing me!"

  "Turn about," he said softly, his eyes glittery. "How do you like it?"

  "I hate it!" she raged.

  "So did I, baby," he replied coldly. "Every min­ute, every day that you hounded me. Thank God for Nina, she must have finally convinced you that it was never going to work. Even a man who cares about a woman can't stomach that kind of harrassment."

  Her eyes closed, con
taining the tears. "You've made your point," she said in a haunted tone. "May I go, now?"

  He felt sick all over when he looked at her face. He shouldn't be this cruel to her. It wasn't her fault that he wanted her to the exclusion of other women. She was just a child, despite her lovely curves, just a little girl. And he was savaging her. He came to his senses in a painful jerk.

  "Anna..."

  Her eyes opened, blue as the sky, wet with tears and pain. "I'm sorry!"

  His teeth ground together in a grimace of anguish. He moved toward her, but she turned and started to run across the street, back toward the gallery.

  Evan watched her until she was out of sight, his face drawn with guilt and remorse. He felt as if he'd just torn the wings from a butterfly.

  Anna was pale and unnaturally quiet when she got home, having found a mechanic to fix her car. But Polly was out, to Anna's relief, and Anna managed to get to bed without being seen. Now that she knew what Evan really thought of her, she didn't know how she was going to stay alive. He seemed to ac­tually hate her.

  The next few weeks dragged by, with Evan taunt­ing her at every corner. He brought Nina in to buy paintings at the gallery, making his attentiveness to her so evident that Anna wanted to scream. He was seen around town with her, and seemed to go out of his way to make sure that Anna saw them. As re­venge went, it was pure mastery. Anna felt as if she'd been cut to pieces, even if she did manage to salvage a little pride by stepping up her dates with Randall.

  A month after Evan had made his last cruel taunt, she went to a concert with Randall and found Evan and Nina sitting only three seats away from them. It hurt to see the two of them together, with Evan so loving and attentive to Nina that the other woman seemed actually to purr when he touched her.

  During the intermission, Randall went to get punch for himself and Anna, and Nina went to the powder room. It was almost fate, Anna thought miserably, that threw her directly in Evan's path while their re­spective dates were missing.

  "Enjoying yourself, honey?" Evan asked her with a smile that didn't begin to reach his eyes. "Or is the beloved physician just a poor substitute for me?"

  She shivered, glaring at him. "Randall is good company."

  "Is he?" he mused. "He seems to pay more at­tention to the music than he does to you. Or is that what you like?"

  "It beats having him all over me," she blurted out, and then blushed furiously at Evan's soft, mocking laughter.

  "Nina likes being touched," he said, his eyes holding hers. "She opens her mouth when I kiss her, and melts under my body...."

  "Damn you," Anna choked, tears burning her eyes. "I've never hated anyone in my life as much as I hate you!"

  It would have hurt less if she'd slapped him. His face hardened. "It beats having you run after me begging to be made love to," he returned hotly.

  She whirled, shaking all over, and made her way to Randall. She held on to his sleeve as if she was afraid she'd drown if she turned it loose. Behind her a tall man with dark eyes flinched at his own mer­ciless behavior, wondering how he could have al­lowed it to go this far. His hunger for Anna grew daily, until it was an ache that almost brought him to his knees. He'd been fighting a losing battle for weeks, and tonight, he lost it. Being cruel to her was the only protection he had left, but that was no longer bearable. He sighed wearily, his eyes lovingly tracing the long lines of her body, adoring her silently. She was so lovely. All his sweetest dreams rolled to­gether.

  It was no good, he admitted finally. He was only fooling himself that he could fight her hold on him. He smiled ruefully. Tomorrow, he'd go by the gal­lery and take her to lunch and admit defeat. He hoped she wouldn't be too unforgiving. He turned back to find Nina approaching him, his mouth set in a hard, uncompromising line.

  Anna was silent for the rest of the concert. She didn't look toward Evan again, refusing to glance at him even though he seemed to spend the better part of the evening trying to force her to look his way. She clung to Randall and rushed him outside when the concert ended, desperate not to have to see Evan and Nina together again.

  She and Randall walked home, because the civic center was just two blocks away from Anna's house.

  "I'll go into private practice next year," Randall was telling her, his eyes dreamy. "I want to set up in Houston. There's an older, established doctor in one of the ritzier parts of town. I've already inquired about buying into his practice." He glanced down at her. "If we got married, say around December, we could move in by late January."

  She stopped walking and looked up at him. "You mean, you could buy into the practice if my mother gave us a substantial cash wedding present," she said matter-of-factly. What he was hinting at was sud­denly welcome. She wanted so desperately to get out of Evan's reach forever, to avoid any more heart­breaking torment from him.

  He was taken aback at the calm way she said it. "Anna..."

  "I know you're not dying of love for me, Rand­all," she said quietly. "I know that there have been other women. It doesn't matter. I might as well marry you as anybody else. Why not?"

  He felt guilty for the first time as he saw the dead look in her eyes. He didn't love her, but he was fond of her. He frowned. "You make it sound like a busi­ness proposition."

  "It is. My mother would stake us. You're ambi­tious, so you'll work hard and make a name for your­self. I can entertain. I'll find things to keep me busy. Maybe I'll paint." She put away her dreams of Evan and a houseful of children for the last time. She had to be practical.

  "You'll marry me?" he asked.

  She nodded.

  He sighed, and drew her into his arms, holding her lightly. "You deserve something better than this," he said unexpectedly.

  She laid her cheek against his chest and smiled. "Sometimes, Randall, you're a very nice man."

  "Not often. I'm all too aware of my limitations. I like women, and for some reason they like me, even if I'm not handsome." He smoothed her long hair. "I like being with you, because I can be myself. I'll take care of you, Anna. I'll try to be discreet..."

  "It won't matter." And it wouldn't. He couldn't touch her heart, so she was safe. "We'll tell Mama when we get home."

  He nodded. He took her hand and smiled down at her as they walked back toward the house. Anna smiled back, but nothing helped the ache inside her.

  "You're getting married?" Polly stammered when they told her the news, automatically registering that neither of them seemed particularly ecstatic or over­joyed at the prospect.

  "That's right," Randall said pleasantly. "I hope you'll wish us well, Mrs. Cochran. I'll take care of Anna."

  It would have made Polly a little happier if he'd said he loved Anna. She glanced at her daughter and wanted to weep at the composed features, the dull eyes. Anna was only doing this because of Evan; she knew it. But her daughter was old enough to make her own decisions, however wrong they might be.

  "Of course I'll congratulate you," Polly said, forcing a smile. "I hope you'll be very happy. Now when are you planning to be married?"

  "At Christmas," Anna said quietly.

  Randall nodded. "I can take a couple of days off and we'll have a brief honeymoon."

  "Randall wants to buy into a practice in Hous­ton," Anna added, thinking that Houston would be a good place to live, because she wouldn't ever have to see Evan again.

  "I'll help with that, of course," Polly said brusquely, and watched relief shadow Randall's eyes. Damn him! She didn't want to buy her daughter a husband, but what could she say? Anna was living on her nerves already. Evan was obviously not in­terested in her, either. He was being seen everywhere with Nina, flaunting his relationship. He'd even brought the woman to Polly's office with him, mak­ing his interest in her so evident that half the staff must have mentioned it to Anna. She wondered if that had been his intention. He seemed to go out of his way lately to taunt Anna, right down to parading Nina past the art gallery at lunch every day.

  Polly had never thought of Evan as a part
icularly cruel man, but Anna seemed to trigger it in him. Odd, when Anna was the type of woman who particularly needed kindness. She certainly wouldn't find any in Evan. Polly pursed her lips. This engagement might not be a bad idea, after all. Once he knew Anna was marrying, he might relent and stop hurting her.

  "We'll have to go shopping for an engagement ring tomorrow," Randall told Anna, smiling. "What would you like?"

  She smiled back. He was a good friend, even if she couldn't work up a grand passion for him. "I'd like an emerald solitaire," she said.

  Randall's eyebrows arched. "Emerald?"

  "I don't like traditional stones," she said gently. "And a small emerald and diamond wedding band.

  Later, when you're wildly successful, you can buy me something big and flashy, okay?"

  He grimaced. She made him feel mean and guilty. "Anna, I'd buy you a trunkful of diamonds if I had the money," he said, and suddenly meant it. "God knows, you're worth them."

  Polly raised her eyebrows and smiled. That sounded more promising. Randall might turn out to be a worthy son-in-law after all. If only Anna loved him.

  "We could go from the gallery to pick it up," Anna suggested, "about noon."

  Noon. That was when Evan usually escorted Nina past her window. Polly turned, smothering a grin. Good for Anna. It wouldn't hurt to let Evan know that she wasn't pining away for love of him anymore. "It's a date," Randall said, smiling. "Now, you'd better walk me to the door. I've got exams the rest of the week, so except for getting the ring, we won't see too much of each other."

  "That's okay," Anna said demurely. "We'll make up for it when we're together. There's a new exhibit at the zoo, tropical amphibians."

  "Fantastic!" Randall enjoyed the study of herpe-tology as a hobby, and Anna shared his fascination with exotic frogs and lizards. It had been surprising, and pleasing, to find that they had a few things in common. He hated art and music, although he hu­mored Anna by attending concerts. But he really en­joyed going to the zoo, and so did she. It was some­thing to build on, at least.

  Anna was thinking the same thing. She wouldn't have an ecstatic marriage, but she'd settle for a little harmony. God knew, she could never have had that with Evan. For a kind, pleasant man, he seemed to grow fangs when he came within a few feet of her. She affected him in a very negative way, so it was probably just as well that she was marrying Randall. But inside her, dreams died.

 

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