All at once, she was swept against the long, hard line of his body and he was kissing her, violently. His mouth demanded in a kiss so sensuous she moaned at the sensations it aroused. She felt his tongue in her mouth, against her lips. A shudder worked its way down her body and fires blazed up in her blood.
"No," she protested when he tried to lift his dark head. She trembled in his arms as she clung. "Cade, please, just once more...."
She heard the ragged breath he took before his mouth crushed back against hers, warm and rough and forceful for an instant Then she was back on her feet again and leaning heavily against him, his lips brushing her forehead.
“What do you want from me, Abby?" he ground out.
Your love, she thought miserably. I want you to love me as fiercely as I love you. "I'm sorry," she muttered against his shirt front. "I like kissing you."
He was trying to get his breath back, or at least it sounded that way. "I like kissing you, too. But I'm a man, not a boy. Kissing isn't enough for me anymore."
Her fingers curled against his shirt, and she could feel the thick hair on his chest through it. She wanted to open his shirt and touch him there. Involuntarily, her fingers moved across his chest and he shuddered.
"No, baby," he said softly. He stilled her hands, and she wondered dizzily what had happened to the cigarette he'd been holding. Her eyes found it, smoking away in the dirt, where he must have flung it.
She sighed wearily, loving the comforting feel of his hands at her back. She didn't want to move away from him, but it was obvious that he wasn't going to let her get any closer.
"I forgot," she murmured.
"What?"
She drew away and grinned, although her heart was aching. "That you're wary of us wild city girls," she said, her light brown eyes sparkling in the pale frame of her hair. "You needn't worry, Cade, I'm not quite strong enough to wrestle you down in a haystack."
Her quip should have made him smile, but it didn't He searched her face for a long time, touching every curve and line of it with his eyes. "I think we both need to remember that you're here to recuperate, Abby," he said after a minute. "This is temporary. You've got a successful career waiting for you in New York, but this is my world." He nodded toward the distant hills, dotted with red-coated, white-faced Herefords. "I don't have time for casual flings, even if I believed in them."
She drew away from him as if she'd been burned. "Excuse me for throwing myself at you...."
"Stop it." His fingers caught her upper arms and held her in front of him when she would have moved away. "A few kisses aren't going to hurt either of us. I just want you to understand the limits. You're very vulnerable right now, Abby. You could easily make a decision that you'd regret for the rest of your life."
He was speaking in riddles, and she stared up at him with wounded eyes, because it sounded as if he were gently rejecting her. Well, she should be used to it, shouldn't she? And if he could be adult about it, so could she. Damn her breaking heart, she'd never let him see it!
Keep it light, girl, she told herself, keep your pride, at least. She managed a bright smile. "Sensible Cade," she murmured. "Don't worry, I promise not to rip your clothes off."
He tried to smother a chuckle and failed. "That would be one for the books, in several ways." He touched her lips with a lazy finger. "Abby, I've never undressed in front of a woman."
She could feel her own surprise coloring her cheeks. "Never?" she burst out.
"Look who's shocked," he mused. "Have you ever stripped for a man?"
"For you, once," she reminded him, avoiding his suddenly explosive gaze. "It was an accident, of course, I had no idea you were anywhere near the ranch that night."
"I know that." A rough sound broke from his throat, as if an unwanted memory was plaguing him. "I'd better go see about that bull. We'll be moving cattle into the pens today. If that call I'm expecting from California comes, take the number and call Hank on the radio. He'll find me."
"Yes, boss," she said smartly.
He looked down at her with narrowed eyes. "How did you get so short?"
"I'm wearing flat-heeled shoes," she said. "And you tower over everybody."
He grinned. "Keeps the men intimidated."
"Your temper's enough to do that." She laughed. "Don't work yourself into a stupor."
"Work keeps my mind off other things," he returned, letting his eyes run boldly up and down her body. "If it's pretty tomorrow, I'll take you on a picnic."
Her whole face brightened and she smiled so sweetly that his eyes froze on her and she couldn't seem to move away.
"Down by the river?" she asked hopefully.
"You love those damned cottonwoods and pines, don't you?" he asked.
"It's spring," she reminded him. "I love the color of the cottonwoods when they're just budding out. The softest kind of green, and the grass is just beginning to get lush...."
"Well, I need to check the fences down there," he mused.
"You work all the time," she grumbled. "You can't even go on a picnic without combining it with business!"
"The ranch isn't my business, Abby. It's my life," he said quietly.
She sighed angrily. "Don't I know it? You're married to it!"
His dark eyes narrowed. "What else have I got?" he demanded.
The question startled her. She watched him swing gracefully into the saddle. The rich leather creaked under his formidable weight as he settled himself and gripped the reins.
"Don't forget about that California call," he said. "And keep close to the house. I don't know some of these new men except by reputation."
"Cowboys are mostly polite and courteous," she reminded him.
"And some of them aren't." He stared down at her hard. "I'd kill a man who tried to hurt you while you were on my land. You keep that in mind."
He wheeled the big horse and went cantering away, leaving Abby standing in the shade of the trees, staring after him. She hadn't needed to ask if he meant that threat. She knew him too well. In the old days, when he was younger and much more hot-tempered, she'd seen him give "object lessons" to cowboys who thought they could push him. He was quick on his feet, and he knew how to handle himself in a fight. The men might grin when he blustered around in a temper over ranch problems, but they knew just the same that there was a line nobody crossed with him.
She wrapped her arms around herself and walked back into the house. It was only then that she realized how vague the memory of the attack was becoming. Being here, away from the city, had given her new perspective, healed the mental wounds. She'd be more careful in the future, but she wouldn't let that one bad experience ruin her life. Her mind kept going back to what Cade had said, about giving the would-be rapist rights over her. Trust him to know the right thing to say.
She wandered back into the den and sat down at the computer. She was glad Cade didn't have a ranch office as such, like many cattlemen did. The den was comfortable and informal, and she liked its homey atmosphere.
The sudden jangling of the phone made her jump, but she recovered quickly and reached for it.
"McLaren Ranch office," she said automatically.
"Abby Shane, please," came a pleasant female voice in reply.
"This is she."
There was a tinkling laugh. "Well, I've run you down at last. This is Jessica Dane, Abby. Has Melly mentioned me to you?"
The boutique owner! Abby's pale brown eyes glittered with excitement. "Heavens, yes!" she returned, bubbling over. "I was afraid she'd got it wrong and you weren't really interested."
"I was, I am, but I couldn't catch you in your apartment." Jessica laughed. "Now I've got you trapped. Listen, I own a little boutique over the border from you in Sheridan, Wyoming. I'm never going to be able to compete with Saks, you understand, but I have a good mail order business in addition to a thriving shop."
"Yes, I've heard all about your success from Melly," Abby said. "She thinks you carry the prettiest leisure clothes short of N
ew York."
"And that's why I'm bothering you," the other woman replied. "Those dresses you designed for Melly are just what I'm looking for to add to my spring and summer line. They're simple and elegant, they wouldn't cost a fortune to make and my customers would eat them up."
"Do you mean it?" Abby burst out.
"Of course I mean it. We could work something out, if you're interested. I know you make a lot modeling—I broke out of that rat race ten years ago and risked everything to open this shop. Now I'm making just as much as I did in New York, but my feet don't hurt so much anymore," she added with laughter in her voice.
"You were a model? Then you know how it is, don't you?" she asked.
Jessica laughed. "Oh, yes, I know very well. I spent half my time trying to stay out of trouble, and I imagine it's even worse now."
"I don't just go to the parties," Abby confessed, "and I keep to myself. But then, too, I'm not in that top ten percent. Frankly, I'm sick of it all. I can't think of anything I love more than designing...."
"Then why not do some work for me?" Jessica pleaded. "At least think about it. I know we could come to an arrangement. You could come down here and look over my business, and I could show you what I have in mind."
“I’d like that," Abby said. "I have commitments lined up for the next few months, but come late September, I'm a free agent. Could I let you know then?"
"Fine! Meanwhile, give me your address in New York and I'll send you some of my catalogs." There was a smile in the woman's voice. "Maybe they'll tempt you."
"I'm already tempted." Abby sighed.
"Good. You'll be easy to convince." She laughed. "Here, take down my number and call me the minute you make up your mind." She dictated the digits while Abby jotted them on her calendar. "By the way, Abby, are you going to be at Melly's wedding?"
"Yes. I designed her wedding dress."
"Fantastic! I'm invited, too, so we'll get a chance to meet then. We'll go off in a corner and I'll describe some of the new designs I'm looking for. How about that?"
"I can hardly wait," Abby said genuinely. "Jessica, I can't tell you how much I appreciate the offer."
"I'm the one who ought to do the thanking. You've got great potential, honey. And believe me, in the long run, you'll make as much designing for the boutique as you will trudging all over New York. And you can do it at your own pace, too."
"I hope I'm not dreaming all this. Thanks again, Jessica. I'll look forward to seeing you at the wedding."
"Me, too, honey. Have a nice day. Enjoyed, it!"
"So did I!" Abby laughed. She hung up and stared at the receiver in astonishment. It was like the answer to a prayer. She could give up the long hours and the stress and do what she loved best. She could even come home to Montana!
For one insane moment, she thought about going out to find Cade, to tell him. Maybe it would show him that she wanted to give up all the glitter he thought she couldn't do without. But as soon as the thought came, she shut it out. He'd just blow up if she interrupted him. And why should he care if she came home? He was letting her stay on his ranch to be near Melly and get herself back together. He might want her—why not?—she was an attractive woman. But wanting wasn't loving, and he was the world's most determined bachelor. Marriage wasn't in his vocabulary—he'd said as much. The ranch was his woman.
Abby sighed and pulled out the herd records she was working on. Anyway, it was nice to have a choice. She could look forward to talking to Jessica about her boutique, and it would pass the time.
The day was a long one, even after Melly came back to help her catch up with the work.
"I'm just tickled pink about Jessica's offer," Melly confided as she watched Abby seal a letter. "Are you going to do it?"
"I don't know," Abby said honestly. “I’d love to come home. But I don't know if I could bear it."
"The loneliness, you mean?"
"Being so close to Cade and so far away from him, all at once," Abby replied. Her eyes showed the wound of loving hopelessly. "I'd rather be hundreds of miles away than practically next door, Melly. If I can't have him, I'd just as soon not have to see him at all. It hurts too much."
"For someone who doesn't care, he sure kisses you a lot lately."
"He said it wouldn't hurt either one of us," she said bitterly. "But he reminded me all the same that I'm here to get over the attack, and I've got a career to go back to. You'd think he couldn't wait to get me off the place."
"Has it ever occurred to you that he might want you gone for the same reason you're going?" Melly asked quietly. "I get the idea that he doesn't think you could give up modeling."
"It's not that at all," Abby protested. "This ranch is his whole life. He's always talking about how stupid people are to get married, and that he never will. And almost in the same breath, he'll swear that he doesn't believe in affairs. I don't know what to make of him."
Melly threw up her hands. "I give up. You're as dense as he is. Okay, show me these records and I'll help you catch up. When are you supposed to get back to Jessica, by the way?"
"She's coming to the wedding, and we're going to talk. What does she look like?"
Melly grinned. "Wait and see. It'll be a revelation to you. Now, this is where we need to start taking off cattle...."
They worked steadily until supper. Melly went out with Jerry to a friend's house. Abby had just finished changing her clothes and was telling a persistent caller for the fourth time in as many hours that Cade was still out when he came slamming angrily in the door. His face was rigid, his lips compressed. He was still wearing his chaps and the brim of his wide hat was crushed in one hand.
"Well, don't just stand there, for God's sake, hang that thing up and get the liniment," he muttered, hobbling up the stairs to his room.
"What happened?" she called after him, absently hanging up on the caller before she thought.
"Cow fell on me," he growled. "Hurry up, damn it!" He went into his bedroom and slammed the door.
Abby rushed into the kitchen to get the liniment. Calla got it out of the cabinet for her.
"Bull again, huh?" old Jeb asked from the doorway as he entered the kitchen.
"He said it was a cow," Abby volunteered.
"Told him he ought to let the younger boys wrestle them things." Jeb nodded. "Yep, I told him, but he wouldn't listen. He's got more broke bones and scars than any man I ever knowed. Lot of them were from his rodeo days, but he's got more being bull-headed and doing jobs he's too brittle for."
"He never listens," Calla agreed, nodding her head. "Why I remember one time..."
She was still going strong when Abby left the two of them recalling other incidents of Cade's intentional deafness.
He had his shirt off when she went into the bedroom. She closed the door behind her, hesitating. The last time she'd been in this particular room was that night when he'd carried her in from the swimming pool in nothing but her damp jeans. It brought back bittersweet memories.
"Open the door if you're nervous being alone with me," he growled, rubbing his shoulder.
“Sorry,” she murmured, trying not to appear too interested in his naked chest. Without his shirt, he was the sexiest thing she'd ever seen, bronzed and muscular, with a thick wedge of dark, curling hair narrowing down to his flat stomach.
She uncapped the bottle of liniment and wrinkled her nose. "My gosh, you'd better make your men sign affidavits that they won't quit if I put this stuff on you."
“Shut up and rub," he grumbled, indicating the smooth flesh of his shoulder.
She poured liniment in her palm and began to apply it. Her fingers tingled at the feel of his flesh under them. "How did a cow manage to fall on you?"
"It's a long story." He lit a cigarette while she massaged the aching limb, wincing as she went over a tender spot.
"Should you smoke?" she murmured. "We might both blow up if a spark ignites the fumes...."
He glared at her. His hair was tousled over his broad fo
rehead, over his dark, glittering eyes and heavy brows, and he looked impossibly masculine.
"Funny girl," he mocked.
"Laughing beats crying, my papa always used to say," she reminded him.
He turned his eyes away and sighed. "I can't imagine you crying over me."
Abby blinked, wondering at how stupid God had made some men. "That works both ways. I'll bet you're just counting the days until I'm on my way back to New York."
He didn't answer her. He took a long draw from the cigarette and exhaled through pursed lips. "Nightmares fading away, honey?" he asked.
She managed a faint smile. "All but gone, in fact." She shrugged, applying more liniment. "It was so hellish at the time. But looking back, I was lucky. Really lucky. All he did was push me around a little before the bystanders chased him off. It was the idea of what could have happened that was so scary. Gosh, men are strong, Cade."
"Some men," he agreed. He glanced at her.
She looked down as he looked up, and her eyes drowned in his dark, intense stare. Her hands stilled on his arm, and time seemed to go into a standstill around them. She was remembering another night, another time, when she'd lain on this very bed in his arms and experienced her first intimacy with a man. But Cade had changed since then. The easygoing, humorous man she'd once known had been replaced by a far more mature man, a harder man. He'd never been easy to read, but now nothing showed in his expression.
He reached out without warning and caught her around the waist, pulling her down on the bed beside him.
"Cade!" she gasped, too shocked to struggle.
He rolled over on his side and one bare arm arched across her body to hold her there while he leaned on an elbow and watched the expressions cross her face. Her eyes dropped to his chest, and she wanted to touch him so desperately that she closed them to resist the impulse.
"Afraid?" he asked softly.
Her fingers touched his hard face, sensitive to the rough texture of it where he needed a shave, to the feel of his cool, thick hair against them. "I'm with you now. I'm safe."
"Not so safe," he said with a faint smile. "But protected, for what it's worth. Suppose I kiss you half to death and then I can grab a bite to eat and go back out"
Books By Diana Palmer Page 153
