Books By Diana Palmer

by Palmer, Diana

  "I don't date anymore," he said, watching her mouth. "I don't

  Diana Palmer349

  have anything to do with women. This—" he moved her subtly

  against that part of him that was most obvious ''—is delicious and

  heady and even a little shocking. I haven't felt it in a very long time."

  Curiosity warred with embarrassment. "But I'm not experienced," she said.

  He nodded. “And you think it should take an experienced woman to arouse me this much."

  "Well, yes."

  He bent and drew his lips over her open mouth in a shivery little caress that made her breath catch. "It happens every time I touch you," he whispered into her lips. "An experienced woman would have realized immediately why I was so hostile and antagonistic to­ward you. It's taken you months."

  He covered her mouth with his, kissing her almost violently as his hand slid back inside her dress and played havoc with her self-control. But it only lasted seconds. He got up abruptly and pulled her up with him, holding her a few inches away from him with steely hands at her waist.

  "You have to go to bed. Alone. Right now," he said emphatically. Her breath came in soft spurts as she looked up at him with her heart in her eyes.

  He actually groaned and pulled her close, into a bearish embrace. He stood holding her, shivering as they pressed together.

  "Dear God," he whispered poignantly, and it sounded reverent, almost a plea for divine assistance. "Tess, do you know how old I am?" he groaned at her ear. "We're almost a generation apart!"

  Her eyes were closed. She was dreaming. It had all been a dream, a sweet, sensuous dream that she never wanted to end.

  "I can still feel your mouth on my breasts when I close my eyes," she whispered.

  He made another rough sound and his arms tightened almost to pain. He didn't know how he was going to let her go. "Baby," he whispered, "this is getting dangerous."

  "You never called me 'baby' before," she murmured.

  "I was never this close to being your lover before," he whispered gruffly. His head lifted and his black eyes glittered down into her pale blue ones. "Not like this, Tess," he said roughly. "Not in a fever, because you've had a bad experience."

  "You made love to me," she said, still dazed by the realization of how much their turbulent relationship had changed in the space of a few minutes.

  "You wanted me to," he returned.

  "Oh, yes," she confessed softly. Her lips parted and she watched, fascinated at the expression on his face when he looked down at them.

  She reached up to him on tiptoe, amazed that it took such a tiny little tug to bring his hard mouth crashing passionately down onto her parted lips. He actually lifted her off the floor in his ardor, groan­ing as the kiss went on endlessly.

  She felt swollen all over when he eased her back down onto her feet.

  "This won't do," he said unsteadily. He held her by the shoulders, firmly. "Are you listening?"

  "I'm trying to," she agreed, searching his eyes as if they held the key to paradise.

  His hands contracted. "I want you, honey," he said curtly. "Want you badly enough to seduce you, do you understand?" His gaze fell to her waist and lingered there with the beginnings of shock. All at once, he was thinking with real hunger of little boys with curly red hair...

  Chapter 7

  Why are you looking at me like that?" Tess asked softly.

  His hands contracted on her waist for an instant before he suddenly came to his senses and realized what he was thinking and how im­possible it was. He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, until he got back the control he'd almost lost.

  He put her away from him with an odd tenderness. "You're very young," he said. "I only meant to comfort you. Things just...got out of hand. I'm sorry."

  She searched his eyes and knew that what they'd shared hadn't made a whit of difference to their turbulent relationship. He wanted her, all right, but there was guilt in his face. He thought she was too young for anything permanent. Or perhaps that was the excuse he had to use to conceal the real one—that he was afraid to get involved with a woman again because he'd been so badly hurt by one.

  She dropped her gaze to his broad chest, watching its jerky rise and fall curiously. He wasn't unaffected by her. That was oddly com­forting.

  "Thanks for getting rid of the bad memory, anyway," she said in a subdued tone.

  He hesitated before he spoke, choosing his words. "Tess, it wasn't only that," he said softly. "But you have to realize how things are. I've been alone for a long time. I let you go to my head." He took a long, harsh breath. "I'm not a marrying man. Not anymore. But you're a marrying woman."

  She ground her teeth together. Well, that was plain enough. She looked up at him, red-cheeked. "I didn't propose! And don't get your hopes up, because I won't. Ever. So there."

  He cocked his head, and for an instant something twinkled deep in his eyes. "Never? I'm devastated."

  The humor was unexpected and it eased the pain of the awkward situation a little. She peeked up at him. "You're very attractive," she continued, "but it takes more than looks to make a marriage. You can't cook and you don't know which end of a broom to use. Besides that, you throw cakes at people."

  He couldn't deny that. His firm mouth, still swollen from the hot kisses they'd shared, tugged up at the corners. "I missed you by a mile. In fact," he reminded her, "you weren't even in the room when I threw it."

  She held up a hand. "I'm sorry. It's too late for excuses. You're right off my list of marriage prospects. I hope you can stand the shock."

  He chuckled softly. "So do I." She was still flushed, but she looked less tormented than she had. "Are you all right now?" he asked gently.

  She nodded and then said, "Yes. Thank you," she added, her voice softer then she intended it to be.

  He only smiled. "He won't be back, in case you're worried about that," he added. "I fired him on the spot."

  She drew in a breath. "I can't say I'm sorry about that. He wasn't what he seemed."

  "Most men aren't. And the next time you accept a date, I want to know first."

  She stared at him. "I beg your pardon?"

  "You heard me. You may not consider me good husband mate­rial," he murmured, "but I'm going to look out for your interests just the same." He studied her seriously for a moment. "If I can't seduce you, nobody else can, either."

  "Well, talk about sour grapes!" she accused.

  "Count on it," he agreed.

  "And what if I want to be seduced?" she continued.

  "Not this week," he returned dryly. "I'll have to look at my calendar."

  "I didn't mean you!"

  His black eyes slid up and down her body in the torn dress that she'd covered with his shirt. "You did earlier," he murmured with a tender smile. "And I wanted to."

  She sighed. "So did I. But I won't propose, even if you beg."

  He shrugged powerful shoulders. "My heart's broken."

  She chuckled in spite of herself. "Sure it is."

  She turned and reached for the doorknob.

  "Tess."

  She glanced back at him. "Yes?

  His face was solemn, no longer teasing. "They told you about her, didn't they?"

  He meant his brothers had told her about his doomed engagement.

  She didn't pretend ignorance. "Yes, they did," she replied.

  "It was a long time ago, but it took me years to get over it. She was young, too, and she thought I was just what she wanted. But the minute I was out of sight, she found somebody else."

  "And you think I would, too, because I'm not mature enough to be serious," she guessed.

  His broad chest rose and fell. "That's about the size of it. You're pretty green, honey. It might be nothing more concrete than a good case of repressed lust."

  "If that's my excuse, what's yours?" she asked with pursed lips.

  "Abstinence?"

  "That's my story and I'm sticking to it like glue." />
  She laughed softly. "Coward."

  He lifted one eyebrow. "You can write a check on that. I've been burned and I've got the scars to prove it."

  "And I'm too young to be in love with you."

  His heart jerked in his chest. The thought of Tess being in love with him made his head spin, but he had to hold on to his common sense. "That's right." His gaze went homing to her soft mouth and he could taste it all over again. He folded his arms over his broad chest and looked at her openly, without amusement or mockery. "Years too young."

  "Okay. Just checking." She opened the door. A crash of thunder rumbled into the silence that followed. Seconds later, the bushes out­side his window scratched against the glass as the wind raged.

  "Are you afraid of storms?" he asked.

  She shook her head. "Are you?"

  "I'll tell you tomorrow."

  She looked puzzled.

  "You've spent enough time around livestock to know that thun­derstorms play hell with cattle from time to time. We'll have to go out and check on ours if this keeps up. You can lie in your nice, soft dry bed and think about all of us getting soaked to the skin."

  She thought about how bad summer colds could be. “Wear a rain­coat," she told him.

  He smiled at that affectionate concern, and it was in his eyes this time, too. "Okay, boss."

  She grinned. "That'll be the day."

  He lifted an eyebrow. "You're big on songs these days," he mur­mured. "That was one of Buddy Holly's. Want me to sing it to you?"

  She realized belatedly which song he was talking about, and she shook her head. "No, thanks. It would upset the neighbors' dogs." He glowered at her. "I have a good voice."

  "Sure you do, as long as you don't use it for singing," she agreed. "Good night, Callaghan. Thanks again for rescuing me."

  "I can't let anything happen to the family biscuit chef," he said casually. "We'd all starve."

  She let him get away with that. He might not believe in marriage, but he was different after their ardent interlude. He'd never picked at her, teased her, before. Come to think of it, she'd never teased him. She'd been too afraid. That was ancient history now. She gave him one last shy, smiling glance and went out the door.

  He stood where she left him, his eyes narrowed, his body still singing with the pleasure she'd given him. She was too young. His mind knew it. If he could only convince the rest of him...

  Surprisingly Tess slept that night, despite the storms that rippled by one after another. The memory of Cag's tender passion had all but blotted out the bad memories Gaines had given her. If only Cag wanted her on a permanent basis. At least they'd gotten past the awkwardness that followed that physical explosion of pleasure. It would make things easier for both of them.

  She made breakfast the following morning and there was nobody to eat it. One of the men, wet and bedraggled looking, came to the back door to explain why breakfast went untouched.

  It seemed that the high winds combined with drenching rain had brought down some huge old oak trees, right through several fences. While she slept soundly, in the outer pastures, cattle had gotten loose and had to be rounded up again, and the broken fences had to be mended. Half the outfit was soaked and all but frozen from the effort. The brothers had dragged in about daylight and fallen asleep, too tired even for their beloved biscuits.

  It was almost noon before they came wandering into the kitchen. Breakfast had gone to the ranch dogs and the chickens, but she had beef and potatoes in a thick stew—with biscuits—waiting.

  Rey and Leo smiled at her. To her astonishment, Cag gave her an openly affectionate glance as he sat down at the head of the table and reached for the coffeepot.

  "It amazes me how you always keep food hot," Leo remarked. "Thanks, Tess. We were dead on our feet when we finally got back this morning."

  "It was a rough night, I gather," she murmured as she ferried

  butter and jam to the table.

  Leo watched her curiously. "We heard that you had one of your own," he said, regretting the careless remark when he saw her flush. "I'm sorry we didn't get our hands on Gaines before he ran for the border," he added, and the familiar, funny man she'd come to know suddenly became someone else.

  "That goes double for me," Rey added grimly.

  "Well, he had plenty of attention without counting on either of you," Cag remarked pleasantly. "I understand that he left tire marks on his way out in the early hours of the morning. The sniveling little weasel," he added.

  "Amazing, isn't it, that Gaines actually walked away under his own steam," Leo told Rey.

  Rey nodded. "And here we've been wasting our time saving peo­ple from him—" he indicated Cag "—for years."

  "People don't need saving from me," Cag offered. "I'm not a homicidal maniac. I can control my temper," he added.

  Leo pursed his lips. "Say, Tess, did the chocolate icing stain ever come completely off the wall...?"

  She was fumbling with a lid that wouldn't come off, flustered from the whole conversation and wishing she could sink through the floor. "Here, give me that," Cag said softly.

  She gave it to him. Their hands touched and they looked at each other for just a second too long, something the brothers picked up on immediately.

  Cag opened the jar and put it on the table while she went to get spoons.

  "At least he's stopped throwing cakes at people," Rey remarked. Cag lifted the jar of apple butter and looked at his brother intently. Rey held up a hand and grinned sheepishly as he fell to eating his stew.

  "If it's all right, I thought I'd go ahead and apply to the local technical school," Tess said quickly, before she lost her nerve. "For fall classes in horticulture, you know."

  "Sure," Leo said. "Go ahead."

  Cag lifted his gaze to her slender body and remembered how sweet it had been to hold in the silence of the study. He let his gaze fall back to his plate. He couldn't deter her. She didn't belong to him. She did need an occupation, something that would support her. He didn't like the idea of her keeping house for anyone else. She was safe here; she might not be in some other household. And if she went as a commuter, she could still work for the brothers.

  "I could...live in the dormitory, if you want," she continued dog­gedly.

  That brought Cag's head up. "Live in the dormitory? What the hell for?" he exclaimed.

  His surprise took some of the gloom out of her heart. She clasped her hands tight in front of her, against her new jeans. "Well, you only said I could stay until summer," she said reasonably. "It's sum­mer now. You didn't say anything about staying until fall."

  Cag looked hunted. "You won't find another job easily in the fall, with all the high school seniors out grabbing them," he said curtly. He glanced back at his plate. "Stay until winter."

  She wondered why Rey and Leo were strangling on their coffee.

  "Is it too strong?" she asked worriedly, nodding toward the cups.

  "Just...right." Leo chocked, coughing. "I think I caught cold last night. Sorry. I need a tissue..."

  "Me, too!" Rey exploded.

  They almost knocked over their chairs in their rush to get out of the room. Muffled laughter floated back even after the door had been closed.

  "Idiots," Cag muttered. He looked up at Tess, and something brushed against his heart, as softly as a butterfly. He could hardly breathe.

  She looked at him with eyes that loved him, and hated the very feeling. He wanted her to go, she knew he did, but he kept putting it off because he was sorry for her. She was so tired of being pitied by him.

  "I don't mind living in the dormitory at school, if you want me to leave here," she repeated softly.

  He got up from his chair and moved toward her. His big, lean hands rested on her shoulders and he looked down from his great height with quiet, wondering eyes. She was already like part of him. She made him bubble inside, as if he'd had champagne. The touch of her, the taste of her, were suddenly all too familiar.

  "How
would you manage to support yourself, with no job?" he asked realistically.

  "I could get something part-time, at the school."

  "And who'll bake biscuits for us?" he asked softly. "And worry about us when we're tired? Who'll remember to set the alarm clocks and remind me to clean Herman's cage? Who'll fuss if I don't wear my raincoat?" he added affectionately.

  She shrugged. His hands felt nice. She loved their warmth and strength, their tenderness.

  He tilted her chin up and searched her quiet eyes. Fires kindled deep in his body and made him hungry. He couldn't afford to indulge what he was feeling. Especially not here, in the kitchen, where his brothers could walk in any minute.

  But while he was thinking it, his rebellious hands slid up to frame her face and he bent, brushing his mouth tenderly over her soft lips.

  "You shouldn't let me do this," he whispered.

  "Oh, I'm not," she assured him softly. "I'm resisting you like crazy." She reached up to link her arms around his neck.

  "Are you?" He smiled as he coaxed her lips under his and kissed her slowly.

  She smiled against his mouth, lifting toward him. "Yes. I'm fight­ing like mad. Can't you tell?"

  "I love the way you fight me...!"

  The kiss became possessive, insistent, feverish, all in the space of seconds. He lifted her against him and groaned at the fierce passion she kindled in him so effortlessly.

  Only the sound of booted feet heading their way broke them apart. He set her down gently and struggled to get back in his chair and breathe normally. He managed it, just.

  Tess kept her back to the brothers until she could regain her own composure. But she didn't realize that her mouth was swollen and the softness in her eyes was an equally vivid giveaway.

  Cag was cursing himself and circumstances under his breath for all he was worth. Having her here was going to be an unbearable temptation. Why hadn't he agreed to letting her live in at the school?