Books By Diana Palmer

by Palmer, Diana

  Chapter Eight

  Randall came to see Anna an hour later, looking remorseful and quiet.

  "I hope you're better," he said, sitting down be­side her. He searched her bruised face and grimaced. "I feel terrible about what happened."

  "I know. But it really wasn't your fault," she said gently. "I got out of the car."

  "Why?"

  She told him, ruefully, and he just shook his head.

  "How did exams go?"

  "Well, I hope," he said, smiling just faintly as he looked at her. "My heart wasn't in it. I was worried about you."

  "I'll be all right," she assured him.

  He crossed his legs and leaned back. "I see that Evan's very much in residence."

  She flushed a little and averted her eyes. "Yes."

  He smiled. "Don't be embarrassed. I've always known how you felt about him. This engagement of ours isn't going to work, Anna. You can't marry me when you're in love with someone else."

  Her eyes were sad as they met his. "I guess not."

  "We were friends," he reminded her. "I like the girl you were—the impulsive, happy, bubbling girl who played jokes and never stopped laughing. I don't like the middle-aged woman I've made you into."

  "But, Randall, you haven't!" she protested.

  He held up a hand, silencing her. "Probably some of it was because of Evan, but being engaged to me hasn't improved you. I want you to be happy again. I want us to be friends again." He grimaced. "I don't know that I'm ready to settle down yet. Evan was right. If I'd cared enough, I couldn't have gone out with anyone except you. And if you cared enough, you'd have been furious."

  She couldn't argue, because he was right. She sat up against the pillows, drawing her knees up so that she could rest her hands on them. "Yes."

  "Besides," he said with an amused smile, "Evan just got through telling me I couldn't have you."

  Her eyes flashed. "He has no right...!"

  "I'm afraid he thinks he does," Randall mused. "You can argue the point with him."

  "He just feels sorry for me," she said heavily, staring at her slender hands. "Once I'm back on my feet again, he'll be lying awake nights trying to think of ways to discourage me, just the way he used to."

  Randall didn't think so, but he didn't argue with her.

  "I'm sorry about my beautiful engagement ring," she said.

  "It was insured," he said easily. "I'm only sorry about the way you lost it. Poor little thing."

  "I'm not little, and I'm getting stronger every day. When I'm well, I'm signing up for karate," she said angrily. "I'll learn to pulverize muggers."

  "That's a good idea," he agreed. "Self-defense should be part of every woman's repertoire."

  They talked for a long time, and when Randall left, promising to keep in touch, it was if a weight had been lifted from her head. The engagement had been a mistake, but she couldn't regret it. Randall had saved her pride after Evan's vicious rejection.

  Evan had gone home to change his clothes, sim­mering with fury because he'd encountered Randall in the corridor. He'd sent the man off with a cold warning, but it might be too little too late. He was sure that Anna loved him, but he'd treated her pretty badly. She might very well marry Randall out of des­peration. He had to stop her, but how?

  He could, of course, marry her himself. His face went blank as he considered that possibility for the first time. Marriage had never been one of his per­sonal priorities, but he was crazy about Anna and he wanted her. They could have children. He drew in a slow breath. The thought appealed to him. Anna, children, a home of his own. Anna in his bed... His heart began to thunder in his chest as he considered marriage and found that it wasn't the terror he'd once thought. His fear of hurting her would be an obstacle, of course, as would her fear of big men. But in time, they could work that out. If she'd have him now.

  He groaned inwardly at his own stupidity in turn­ing away from her. She didn't trust him because he'd hurt her so badly, rejected her not only fiercely but in public. He must have savaged her pride. After their argument the night before, he wasn't sure he could even get into her room without a struggle. She might rush right into Randall's arms for protection. The thought made him miserable all the way back to Jacobsville.

  "How is she?" Harden asked almost as soon as Evan got in the door of the Tremayne house. Because of Evan's absence, and that of Jo Anne and Donald, Harden and Miranda were staying with Theodora to help with ranch business.

  "Better," Evan said tersely, tossing his hat on the hall table. "Her fiancee showed up just as I left."

  Harden lifted an eyebrow. "I thought you ap­proved of her engagement."

  "So did I."

  He stared at the older man quietly, his blue eyes seeing the lines in Evan's face, the tautness. "You. look like hell."

  "It's been touch and go for a while. She's only just beginning to pick up. How are things here?"

  "We're handling them just fine. I assume you're going back?"

  "I'll have to," Evan said curtly, his dark eyes stormy, "or she may let herself be talked into a hos­pital wedding by that pill-pushing wimp."

  Harden had to bite back a grin. "He's not bad."

  "Not when he's a hundred miles away from Anna," Evan agreed.

  Harden's blue eyes searched the other man's face. "You said that she was too young. That you didn't want her. But I don't think you realize how you've changed since Anna hasn't been around." He shook his head slowly. "Honest to God, I hardly know you these days."

  "Anna said that," he admitted. He jammed his big hands into his pockets with a rough curse. "She'll be even more fragile after what's happened to her, and I don't know how I'm going to handle my own doubts. But leaving her to the mercies of young Dr. Randall isn't something I can live with. I'm not per­fect, but she'd be better off with me. At least I won't drive her around strange cities at night hunting mug­gers."

  Harden had to bite back laughter at the disgust in that deep voice. "I thought you were afraid of your own strength."

  Evan gazed at him evenly. "I was. I am. I don't know how I'll handle that, either." His big shoulders lifted. "She makes me shake like a boy. God knows I'll probably send her running when things heat up, but I can't push her away again. Not now."

  "You may underestimate Anna's feelings," Har­den reminded him. "And Anna's no shrinking violet. If she loves you, everything will be all right."

  "She loves me, all right," Evan said quietly. "That's the only thing I'm still sure of. But she thinks I just feel sorry for her, and Randall's handy." He looked up. "I told him he couldn't have her."

  Harden smiled. "Good for you. But have you told Anna?"

  “I will." He moved into the living room and went to speak to his mother before he caught up on busi­ness and started back to Houston.

  It was almost dark when Evan returned to Anna's hospital room. She'd been sure he wasn't coming back, but surprisingly, he showed up with a huge white teddy bear under one arm. He slung it beside her on the bed, his dark eyes accusing.

  "What...!" Anna exclaimed, her eyes beaming as she lifted the enormous, soft bear. She'd been ready for a fight, but he'd stolen her thunder. The bear was beautiful, and it touched her that he'd cared even enough to bring her a present.

  "His name's Hubert," he told her irritably. "You can be engaged to him."

  She laughed, cuddling the bear beside her. "He's beautiful," she said shyly, knowing that she'd trea­sure it for the rest of her life. "Thank you."

  He shrugged. His eyes narrowed. "What did Randall want?"

  Her eyebrows jerked up. "To see how I was, of course."

  "Did you break the engagement?" he persisted.

  "No, I did not," she shot at him. That was true.

  Randall had broken it, but her pride wouldn't let her tell Evan.

  He moved to her side and bent over her, his dark face threatening as his gaze fell to her mouth. "What was that?"

  The closeness made her dizzy. He was wearing a yellow
knit shirt with tight-fitting jeans. He was enormous, lean and muscular and he smelted of ex­pensive cologne. His head was bare, dark brown hair neatly combed, his face freshly shaven. He was so sensuous that her mouth ached for his, but she wasn't about to be taken in a second time.

  "My engagement is none of your business," she said stubbornly. He was too close. She clutched the bear for protection, knowing all too well that he could touch her and knock every one of her barriers spinning. He probably knew it. She was too green to hide the effect he had on her.

  "Suppose I make it my business?" he asked qui­etly, holding Her gaze. "Suppose I tell you that I'm jealous as hell and I don't want another man's hands on you?"

  Her heart ran away, but she wasn't going to be taken in. "I've been hurt and you feel sorry for me," she said shortly. "You don't have to throw out your arms and profess love eternal just because I got mugged, Evan."

  His face colored angrily. "It isn't pity."

  "What else could you ever feel for me?" she asked bitterly.

  He drew in his breath sharply and stood up, his hands jammed deep in his pockets. He'd been living on his nerves for too long, he supposed, because her harsh question made him sick inside. His self-confidence took a nosedive. Apparently she'd de­cided not to believe anything he told her from now on. How could he convince her that he'd had a sin­cere change of heart about her place in his life?

  "That's right," she muttered darkly, "stand there and glare at me. At least that would be honest."

  "What's gotten into you?" he asked flatly.

  "I've seen the light, dear man," she returned. "Maybe I've even grown up a little as well. I've just gone off hero worship, Evan."

  His hands clenched in his pockets, but his face gave nothing away. "Is that all it was?"

  "I'm nineteen," she reminded him. "Too young for undying love and commitment, isn't that what you thought?"

  His face tautened with strain. "It wasn't just your age."

  "Then what was it?"

  "Louisa," he said quietly.

  She remembered what he'd told her about the other woman and her face softened. She could only imagine the scars that the experience had left on him. Her eyes fell to the bear and she stroked the soft fake fur gently.

  "If she'd really loved you, Evan, nothing would have frightened her," she said, her voice subdued.

  "Are you sure?"

  He sounded mocking, cynical. She glanced at him, her eyes faintly adoring. He looked so tired. "I would have been glad to prove it to you, once," she said.

  His eyes flashed in a face like stone. "Think so?" he asked on a hard laugh. "You don't even know what it's all about. The way you react to me, I doubt if Randall's ever made you feel desire."

  Denying that was beyond her. Her fingernails curled absently into the bear. "Nobody ever did, un­til that day in the gallery," she confessed.

  His breath caught audibly, and his teeth ground together. "I lie awake at night, remembering how your hands felt on me," he said huskily.

  She could have said the same thing to him. It would have been a perfect memory, except for what came afterward. The light went out of her eyes as she remembered Nina.

  "Mine, or Nina's?" she asked dully.

  He moved closer to the bed, leaning over her with one big hand resting beside her head on the thick pillow. “I’m not sleeping with Nina," he said, al­most able to read the thoughts as they passed through her mind.

  "Ever?" she asked cynically.

  His eyes fell to her soft body and then to the bear. "I won't talk about old conquests to you, Anna," he said finally. "What happened in the past has no bear­ing on the present, or the future."

  "Nina isn't in the past," she said, fighting not to show what his nearness was doing to her pulse.

  "You've made sure that everybody knew it, too, not just me."

  His gaze pinned hers and he looked faintly threat­ening. "I've been running from you for a long time," he said shortly. "It got to be a habit, but just lately, I look at you and get so damned aroused that I can hardly function. Keeping away from you was the only thing that saved you."

  Her eyebrows arched. "You're not keeping away now," she began.

  "You're flat on your back in bed," he said simply. "I'm no threat to you now."

  "Oh. I see," she said dully.

  "You see nothing!" he raged. "My God, a blind woman...!"

  "I know you want me," she burst out. "It would be hard to miss. But I want more than five feverish minutes in bed with you, Evan!"

  "Five minutes?" he asked suggestively. "Is that how long you think it takes?"

  One of her school friends had intimated as much. Actually, she didn't know how long it took, and she didn't want him to know that.

  She averted her eyes. "Never mind."

  He caught her chin and tilted her face up to his dark, sensuous eyes. "In five minutes I could satisfy myself," he said softly. "But I'd need another twenty to satisfy you as well."

  The color came into her cheeks despite all her frantic efforts to stop it She swallowed. "That's not fair."

  He drew in a slow breath as he tried to imagine Anna in passion. He drew his thumb gently over her cheek. "No," he agreed. "It isn't. Anna...I wish you knew more about men," he added heavily. "I wouldn't have you experienced, but it would make things easier."

  "You think I'll be afraid of you," she replied. "Evan, I think every woman is secretly afraid of the first time. It's like stepping into the unknown, and all the reading in the world doesn't really prepare you for it. But you've blown that natural fear up in your mind until it's completely out of proportion."

  "Have I?" His eyes grew hard. "You don't know how it was for me that night," he said roughly. "You don't know what she said...!"

  His anguish made her sad. She caught the big, lean hand lying beside her on the bed and drew it gently to her breast, catching her breath as she felt its warm weight. He jerked back, caught off guard, but she held his hand there, cradling it with both of hers.

  "What are you doing?" he asked huskily.

  "Letting you feel how frightened I am," she whis­pered, and pressed the heel of his hand against the furious throb of her heart.

  His lips parted as he struggled to breathe normally. He looked down at his hand and began to move it, very gently, against her breast through the thin fabric of the hospital gown. The nipple went hard at once and she drew in her breath as she felt its instant re­sponse to the slow caress of his big thumb.

  "You really are a big girl," he whispered sensu­ously.

  *'Do... you mind?"

  "You fill my hands," he said softly. He leaned closer, his breath on her lips. "Would you like to fill my mouth, too?"

  Her fingers bit into his broad shoulders. "Yes!"

  He felt his body tighten, and his breath almost strangled him. His mouth brushed softly over hers, feeling its exquisite response while his hand sud­denly tightened on her breast and swallowed it. His free hand went under her nape to arch her throat, and his mouth opened on hers in a kiss that was almost a statement of intent.

  He tore his mouth away seconds later and stood up, visibly shuddering with frustrated desire, his face dark with it, his eyes glittering with it.

  Anna stared at him hungrily, without fear, help­lessly pleased at the evidence of his desire for her.

  "You can see how terrified of you I am, can't you?" she whispered unsteadily. Her hands blatantly drew the gown taut around her breasts so that he could see their hard tips.

  He had to swallow before he could even speak. His face was rigid as he looked at her body. "You don't understand," he said shortly. "There's more to it than this."

  She moved her hands beside her head and sighed as she looked up at him. "But I'll never know, will I, because you're afraid to make love to me com­pletely."

  He laughed harshly, moving away from her to drag a cigarette out of his pocket and light it. He fumbled, because his hands were shaking so badly. "This is hardly the time or place."
>
  "Randall wants to marry me," she lied, because she hadn't told him yet that their engagement was off. "He's not afraid to be intimate with me!"

  He whirled, his eyes frightening.

  She met his furious gaze evenly. "I thought it was what you wanted, to have me out of your hair for good."

  "So did I," he returned curtly.

  "Then you shouldn't mind if I get married and have children."

  His jaw went taut. "Randall is the worst mistake you've ever made," he said. "He won't make you happy. Every time you turn around, he'll be out with some other woman."

  "At least he won't be able to hurt me."

  He took a long draw from the cigarette. "You don't love him. You love me."

  "Isn't that just a little conceited?" she asked ir­ritably.

  "Probably, but it's true," he said quietly. He looked at her hungrily. "I don't know how I'm going to cope, Anna. But I can't let you marry Randall, feeling the way you do about me."

  "You don't want ties," she countered. "You don't want marriage or children."

  "How do you know?"

  "Because you've said so, time and time again!" she cried, exasperated. She lay back heavily against the pillows. "Nina's just your style. Good company and no broken heart afterward."

  "She isn't," he said surprisingly. "Good com­pany, I mean. All she wants is to go to bed with me."

  "That must be a novelty."

  He pursed his lips, not offended. "Not really. You want to go to bed with me, too."

  She glared at him, but she didn't deny it.

  He sighed wistfully and smiled at her. "You're not fragile," he said, thinking aloud. "And if I work at it, maybe I can do something about my inhibitions. God knows, I want you," he said huskily, his eyes revealing his desire. "And I'm thirty-four, plenty old enough to be thinking of settling down."

  Her heart jumped. He sounded serious. "What about Nina?"

  "What about her?" he asked flatly. "That's over. Finished. So is Randall," he added, his tone com­manding. "You aren't going to marry him."

  "Having fun arranging my life for me?" she asked breathlessly.