Books By Diana Palmer

by Palmer, Diana

  She stared at him unblinkingly, loving every unshaven plane of his face.

  "You hung up the phone and got on a plane in the middle of the night...?" she began nervously.

  His eyes roamed down her body and one dark eyebrow arched curiously. "You've lost weight, Abigail," he murmured, studying her. "A lot of it, and you look like pure hell."

  "Have you seen yourself in a mirror?" she countered, noticing new lines, new shadows under his dark eyes.

  He shook his head. "Couldn't stand the sight of myself," he admitted. "Come on, Abby, let's hear it."

  She swallowed. "It was easier when you were still in Montana," she began nervously.

  "I guess it was." He took off his hat and tossed it onto a chair. His big hands framed her face and he looked down at it like a starving man. "Suppose I take you to bed, Abby?" he asked softly. "And after we've made love for three or four hours, I'll ask you again."

  Chapter Twelve

  She could barely breathe when she saw what was in his eyes. It was hardly possible that she was dreaming, but it was so much like a dream come true that she felt faint.

  "Look at me, Abby," he whispered.

  She raised her eyes and his gaze fell to the transparent material over her firm, high breasts. He reached out and drew his knuckles down from her collarbone over one perfect breast, and he smiled at her body's helpless reaction to his touch, at the hunger he could see and feel.

  "Same damned thing happens to me every time I think about you," he murmured with a soft, deep laugh. "Four months, Abby. Four long months, and I've walked around aching every minute of every day, wanting you until I was like a wounded bear with everyone around me. Tonight I'd had all I could take, I couldn't even get properly drunk...damn you, come here!"

  He lifted her in his hard arms, taking her mouth with a hungry, aching thoroughness, ignoring her sweet moan of pleasure and her clinging arms as he walked back into her bedroom and slammed the door behind them.

  "I'm going to make love to you all night long," he said as he carried her straight toward the bed. "In the morning, you'll be damned lucky if you can walk at all. Then we'll talk."

  "Cade, I could get pregnant!" she said in a high-pitched tone, afraid that it was only the liquor talking.

  "Yes, you could," he said quietly, staring into her eyes. "And that would mean total commitment. To me. For life. Say yes or no. But if it's no, I'm going straight back to Montana, and I'll never come near you again."

  She felt her body trembling in his strong embrace, and her heart yielded totally as she searched his face with a loving, possessive gaze.

  "I don't know if I can survive an affair with you," she said softly. "But if that's what you want, I...I can try. I just don't understand what we'd do about a child...."

  He breathed slowly, deliberately, and his eyes softened. "Melly said you were blind about me. I suppose she knew better than I did," he murmured. He laid her gently down on the bed and unbuttoned his shirt with slow, easy motions, tossing it aside. His hands went to his belt and unfastened it. His trousers followed, while Abby watched him, shocked to the bone.

  "If you think it's rough on you," he muttered, glancing at her as he turned to divest himself of everything else, "remember what I told you before, Abby. I've never undressed in front of a woman."

  "That's the loss of women everywhere," she whispered, awed as he turned around again. "Oh, Cade...!"

  His face softened, and the red stain on his cheeks faded away. He sat down beside her, coaxing her to sit up so that he could remove the caftan. And then he just looked and looked, until she felt her heart trembling wildly, her body helplessly arching in invitation, moving restlessly under the pure sensuality of the appraisal.

  "Before this goes any further," he said quietly, sliding a big, warm hand over her smooth belly, up to rest maddeningly below one taut breast, "you'd better tell me if you meant what you said on the phone."

  She swallowed. "About being lonely and lost in the city?" she whispered.

  He nodded. "Are you happy?"

  "When I'm with you," she managed through trembling lips. "Only when I'm with you. Oh, God, you don't know...you'll never know how it was to leave you!"

  His fingers trembled and he searched for his voice. "I know how it was to be left, Abby," he said slowly. "I've been walking around like half a man for four years. And until tonight, I had no idea, no idea at all what you felt."

  "How could I tell you, when you kept going on about not wanting a commitment, not wanting marriage?" she asked unsteadily. "You pushed me away...."

  "I had to," he ground out. "I can't control what I feel for you, I never could. You'll never know how close I came to taking you the night I found you by the pool. When I left you I was shaking like a boy. I had to drink myself to sleep—the only other time I've been at the bottle like I have tonight." His fingers moved up to her breasts, touching them like a man touching a treasure trove. "So beautiful," he whispered. "You were then, you are now. My Abby. My own."

  Abby's hands reached up and stroked his chest, tickling as they pressed into the tangle of dark hair. "I never knew," she whispered.

  "Neither did I." He shuddered as her hands caressed him. "Don't do that, not yet. I go crazy when you touch me that way."

  "You said we were going to make love," she reminded him softly.

  "We are. When you agree to marry me," he said quietly. "I couldn't handle an affair with you, either. If I take you, you take me for life."

  It was important to know the truth, not just guess at it. There had been too much misunderstanding already. "Because you need sons to inherit Painted Ridge?" she asked in a whisper.

  "Because I love you, Abigail Shane," he corrected breathlessly. "Because I've loved you for so many years that loving you is a way of life for me. Because if you don't come home with me, I'll pack my bags and move in with you and make love to you until you'll marry me in self-defense, just to get some rest."

  Tears welled up in her wide brown eyes as they searched his. "You love me, Cade?" she burst out.

  "What a mild word for so much feeling," he managed in a voice that shook. His hands framed her face, and his eyes worshipped it. "I want to be with you all the time. I want to sit and watch you when we're together. I want to stay by your bed when you're sick and you need me. I want to hold you in my arms in bed at night, even when we don't make love. I want to give you children. Most of all, I want to live with you until I die. All the good days and bad. All the way to the grave."

  She was crying helplessly at his admission, at having all her wildest dreams come true. Her fingers moved up to his hard face and lovingly traced every warm inch of it. "I couldn't look at you when I got on the bus four years ago," she said brokenly, "because if I had, I would have thrown myself at your feet and begged you to let me stay. I started loving you when I was barely fifteen, and I've loved you every day since. Hopelessly, with all my heart. Oh, God, Cade, it was never New York and modeling. It was you! I love you until I hurt all over! I'll love you all my life, all the days I live...!"

  He stopped the frantic words with his mouth and eased down beside her. They kissed slowly, sweetly, rocking in each other's warm arms, savoring the newness of belonging to each other, of shared loving. Until his tongue gently penetrated her mouth. Until her lips opened to its deep searching. Until they moved, together, slowly, into a new and shattering kind of intimacy with each other.

  "Teach me how, Cade," she whispered with love splintering her voice as she felt his hands touching her in new ways. "Teach me how...to show love...this way."

  His mouth gentled hers. "We'll learn it together, honey," he whispered back. "Because this is like my first time, too. Tell me if I hurt you. I'd rather die than hurt you now."

  But even as he spoke, his mouth was moving against her body, and she forgot that it was the first time, she forgot everything but the glory of being kissed and touched so tenderly by the only man she'd ever loved. She relaxed and moved deliberately, touched del
iberately, delighting in his reactions to her fingers, her mouth. She whispered her love; her body shouted it.

  Sensation piled on sensation, while she turned and arched and whispered wildly into his ear as he moved against her so slowly, with such staggering control. She could barely believe that the level of pleasure she was experiencing was bearable as it mounted and mounted and began to possess her.

  Her eyes opened on a surge of mingled need and fear, and his were open, too, staring back at her.

  "Don't be afraid of me," he whispered shak-enly, urgently. "I love you. Trust me."

  It was all she needed to push her over the edge. Her eyes closed again, and she felt his mouth gentling hers, preparing her for what was coming.

  Her hands tangled in his thick, dark hair as his body slowly, tenderly, overwhelmed hers. His mouth was gentle, despite the need she could feel in him, a need he was deliberately denying for her sake. The very tenderness of his movements, his slow, soft kisses, made it so beautiful that she forgot her fear and gave herself up to the incredible intimacy of belonging to him.

  If there was pain, she hardly noticed it, so involved was she in trying to get closer to him, trying to please him as he was pleasing her. She wanted nothing more than the joy of giving everything she had to give.

  He cherished her as she'd never dreamed a man could cherish a woman, every second fueling the hunger and the sweetness of sharing love. She clung to him, loving him, loving him! And it was so easy. So perfect. So beautiful. Her eyes burned with tears that rolled helplessly down her cheeks into their joined mouths. A moment later she heard his voice in her ear, whispering words that only vaguely registered, whispering her name like a litany.

  And from tenderness came passion—suddenly, like a summer storm billowing over them, lifting and tossing them in a vortex of urgency that blazed brighter than the lights around them.

  She heard her voice break, and felt his hands controlling her wild movements firmly, guiding, teaching. Her teeth bit into his hard shoulder in an agony of pleasure, so exquisite that she cried out. And then there was no more time for the gentle beginnings, only for the wild, furious stretch toward fulfillment that sent them crashing together in frantic torment, trembling wildly, whispering urgently until there was oneness. And then peace.

  Later, she curled up against him, trembling, while he lit a cigarette and smoked it. She laughed softly, triumphantly, delightedly.

  His arm drew her closer, and he chuckled softly, too. "My God, in all my wildest dreams I never imagined feeling like that."

  "Neither did I," she returned. "I thought I'd died."

  His chest rose and fell heavily. "I'm going to have that book framed and hung over our bed after we're married."

  She blinked. "Book?"

  He chuckled wickedly. "There's this book about making love that I bought a few weeks ago," he murmured. He lifted his brows at her stunned expression and laughed uproariously. "Well, hell, Abby, I told you I spent half my life working with the damned cattle? Where did you expect me to learn about sex? You women, always expecting men to know all the answers and hating us for the way we get them...."

  Her face brightened with wonder. "Why, you old devil," she said. "And I thought you had a string of women a mile long!"

  He kissed her nose. "You're my woman. The only one I ever wanted. I haven't been a monk, but there was never any joy for me in sleeping with women I didn't even like."

  She stared up at him curiously. "You mean, you learned everything you just did to me out of a book?!"

  His eyebrows arched. "It was a good book," he said defensively, "kind of a primer...well, damn it, I thought that after I gave you a while to think about me and the ranch, and maybe miss me, I might come up here and try to change your mind. I was going to wait until Christmas...." He shrugged his powerful shoulders. "Then tonight, after Calla went out with Jeb, I got lonely and started drinking." He sighed. "First time I've put away that much whiskey in years." He looked down at her radiant face. "When you started ranting and raving at me, it was the sweetest music I'd ever heard. I didn't even take time to shave, I just got Hank out of bed to drive me to the airport."

  "You said he was quitting!"

  "When he found out I was on my way to you, he took back his resignation," Cade said, grinning. "Told me he had wondered if I planned to stay stupid all my life."

  "I think we were both a little dense," she replied. Her eyes devoured him. "I love you," she whispered intensely.

  "I love you," he replied, bending to kiss her softly, slowly, with tender promise. "Can you live with me on Painted Ridge and give up all you've accomplished? If not, I'll compromise, now that I know you love me."

  "I could give up breathing if you'll make love to me every night," she murmured, pressing close. "I hate it here. After the first few months, all the glamour and adventure wore off. I worked like a zombie all day and dreamed all night about how it would be to sleep in your arms and carry your child in my body...."

  He drew in a sharp breath. "Don't say things like that to me, I'll go crazy."

  "Take me with you," she said, brushing her hand over his chest and smiling when he trembled. "Let's go together."

  "In a minute." He put out the cigarette and leaned over her, his eyes solemn. "I can't expect you to sacrifice four years of hard work just to raise children. I don't want you to give up being a person just because you're my wife. We all need to feel fulfillment, a sense of purpose."

  "Oh, my gosh, I didn't ever tell you about Jessica Dane!" she burst out, and explained it all, even her behavior at the reception.

  He sighed angrily. "Well, I was a damned fool over that, wasn't I?" he ground out. He kissed her gently. "I'm sorry, honey."

  "It's all right. You didn't know." She touched his mouth. "So you see, I could work for Jessica and never leave the house except to supervise some seamstresses once in a while. And I've always preferred designing to modeling, anyway."

  "Lucky me," he said. He grinned. "If we have little girls, you can make party dresses for them, too."

  She laughed. "Not for the little boys, though. I don't want my sons parading around in petticoats." She leaned forward and kissed him lazily. "My throat's sore from talking. Teach me some more things you learned in that book of yours."

  He chuckled. "There's just one more little thing to talk about. I had Hank promise to make a few phone calls for me after daylight"

  "Did you?" she murmured, nibbling at his lips.

  "I had him invite the minister over for next Saturday."

  "That's nice," she whispered. Her hands smoothed over his long, tanned body.

  "Plus about fifty other people."

  "Um," she murmured. Her hands moved to his hair-roughened chest and she pressed against him. "That's nice, too."

  "For the wedding."

  She drew away. "Next Saturday?!"

  "Why wait?" he asked, biting at her mouth. "I sure was hoping you'd say yes, Abby. All the way here I had nightmares about trying to line up a bride and groom at such short notice if you refused me...."

  "Cade Alexander McLaren, what am I going to do with you?" she asked sharply.

  "Lie down here and I'll show you," he murmured with a laugh, easing her onto her back. "This is the best chapter of all...."

  Abby smiled as she met his hungry mouth. When they got home to Painted Ridge, she had some heavy reading to do.

  End

  Long Tall Texan Summer (05-1997)

  Kelly R., Donna B. and Irene S.

  "This bud of love, by summer's ripening breatht

  May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet!'

  —William Shakespeare Romeo and Juliet, II, iit 121

  1 Tom Walker

  "If love were what the rose is, And I were like the leaf, Our lives would grow together In sad or singing weather"

  —Algernon Charles Swinburne A Match (1866), st. 1

  Prologue

  The christening was a delightful affair. It seemed that everyone in Jac
obsville, Texas, was there to give their best wishes to Dr. Jebe-diah Coltrain and his wife, Dr. Louise Col-train, on the birth of their son, John Daniel.

  Afterward, at the reception, the champagne flowed like water. The beautiful day in mid-June was clear and warm.

  Dr. Drew Morris was standing close to the punch bowl enjoying the company of his friends. Beside him stood Ted Regan and Ted's foreman, Jobe Dodd, along with Ted's sister, Sandy. Sandy was giving Jobe a black glare, which he was returning with interest. On the other side of him stood newcomer to town Tom Walker, who'd just opened an investment firm.

  "I need to talk to you about some invest­ments next week," Drew told Tom with a grin. "I had a good year and I want to do something with my cash overflow."

  "I'll be glad to do whatever I can for you, Dr. Morris," Tom said with a grin in his dark, handsome face.

  "By the way," Drew added, "if you're in the market for any computer equipment, Ted's sister there is the lady to see." He nodded to­ward Sandy. "She works for one of the big computer franchises, and she's a whiz with electronics."

  "Sure is," big blond Jobe Dodd said mock­ingly. "Pity she can't stay on a horse."

  "The devil I can't!" Sandy shot back, her blue eyes flaming.

  "Now, now." Ted separated them. "Go fight somewhere else. We're here to celebrate a christening, not to start a war."

  They glared at him and went their separate ways.

  "Whew!" Ted sighed. "It's like that all the time lately! Coreen and I are about to the point of taking our baby and running for cover. I wish they'd kill each other and get it over with."

  "They do seem volatile," Drew agreed, sip­ping punch.

  "How's your new employee working out?" Ted asked him.

  "She can't dress herself, she can't walk through the office without tripping over some­thing and she's forever trying to work without her glasses because she thinks she looks better that way." He threw up his hands. "It's a pity they outlawed flogging..."