Books By Diana Palmer

Home > Other > Books By Diana Palmer > Page 211
Books By Diana Palmer Page 211

by Palmer, Diana


  "Well...yes," she said hesitantly. "Isn't it normal?"

  He laughed in spite of the stabbing ache she'd given him. "Baby, you haven't got a clue, have you?"

  "Did I do something wrong?"

  "No!" He eased down again, giving in to his need, and hers, but careful not to give her too much of his formidable weight. His mouth moved lazily over her forehead, down to close her wide, wounded eyes. "You haven't done anything wrong. I want you," he whispered tenderly.

  "I want you, too," she whispered back shyly.

  He sighed as if he had the weight of the world on him. One big, lean hand slid under her hips and lifted them slowly, sensually into the hard thrust of him, and held her there.

  She stiffened suddenly and a tiny little cry crawled out of her tight throat as she registered the heat and power of him in such stark intimacy.

  "When it gets this bad," he whispered at her ear, "a man will lie, cheat, steal, kill to get rid of it! If I had just a little less honor, I'd tell you anything that would get those jeans off you in the least possible time."

  "Get my jeans off...!"

  The shock in her voice broke the tension. He lifted his head and burst out laughing despite the urgency in his body when he saw her face.

  "You don't imagine that we could make love through them?" he asked.

  She was scarlet. And he was laughing, the animal! She hit his shoulder angrily. "You stop that!"

  He chuckled helplessly, shifting suddenly to lie beside her on the wide leather divan. He pulled her against him and lay there fighting for breath and control, deliciously aware of her bare breasts pressing warmly against his rib cage.

  "Just when I think I'll go mad, you act your age."

  "I'm not a kid!" she protested.

  He smoothed her ruffled hair lazily and his chest rose and fell in a long sigh while the urgency slowly passed out of his body. “Yes, you are," he contradicted, his voice soft and affectionate. "And if we keep doing this, eventually, blushes or not, you're coming out of those jeans."

  "As if I'd let you!"

  "You'd help me," he returned. "Tess, I haven't really tried to seduce you," he added quietly. "You're as hungry for me as I am for you, and I know tricks I haven't used yet."

  She drank in the male smell of his body with pleasure. "Such as?"

  "You really want to know?" He drew her close and whispered in her ear.

  "Callaghan!"

  He kissed her shocked face, closing her open mouth with warm, tender kisses. "You've got a lot to learn, and I ache to teach it to you," he said after a minute. "But you aren't geared for an affair, and I have far too many principles to seduce a woman who works for me." He sighed wearily and drew her closer, wrapping her up against him. “Good God, Tess, how did we ever get into this situa­tion?"

  "You insisted that I sit on your lap while you ate dessert," she replied reasonably.

  "It happened long before that. Months ago. I fought you like mad to keep you at arm's length."

  "It didn't work," she informed him.

  "So I noticed."

  He didn't speak again and neither did she for a long time. They lay in each others' arms in the silence of the study, listening to the muted sounds of the night outside the window.

  "Do you want me to go?" she asked finally.

  His arms contracted. "Sure," he replied facetiously. "Like I want to give up breathing."

  That was reassuring. She felt the same way. But he still wasn't mentioning anything permanent. Even through the euphoria of lying half nude against him, she did realize that.

  Finally he let go of her and got up from the divan, careful not to look at her as he fetched her shirt and bra and put them beside her.

  "You'd better..." He gestured, not putting it into words.

  She dressed quickly, watching his long back as he stood beside the desk, idly touching the papers on it.

  She got to her feet at last and after a minute she went around him to get the tray.

  "I'll take this back to the kitchen."

  He nodded without speaking. He was too choked with conflicting emotions to put a single one of them into words.

  But when she went to pick up the tray, his hand covered the back of hers, briefly.

  "I've put off a conference that I meant to attend in Kansas City," he said quietly. "I'm going to go. Rey will be back in the morning before I leave, and Leo will be here."

  She looked up at him with wide, soft eyes in a face that made his heart ache.

  He cursed softly. "Tess, it wouldn't work," he said through his teeth. "You know it wouldn't!"

  She made a motion with her shoulders and lowered her revealing eyes so that he couldn't read what was in them. "Okay."

  "You'll like school," he forced himself to say. "There will be boys your own age, nice boys, not like some of the toughs you meet on the rodeo circuit."

  "Sure."

  "You can commute," he added after a minute. "None of us want you to give up your job while you're going to school. And I'll make sure we aren't alone again, like this."

  She swallowed the lump in her throat and even forced a smile.

  "Okay."

  He watched her pick up the tray and go out of the room. When he finally closed the door behind her, it was like putting the finishing touches on a high wall. He actually winced.

  Chapter 9

  Cag was dressed in a lightweight gray vested suit the next morning when he came in to breakfast. His suitcase was packed and waiting by the front door, along with his silver belly Stetson. He looked elegant when he dressed up. Tess had to force herself not to stare at him too closely while she served the meal.

  Rey had walked in, still dressed in a suit himself, just as Tess started to put breakfast down on the table. He, like Callaghan, would never win any beauty contests, but he paid for dressing. He looked elegant and faintly dangerous, in a sexy sort of way. Tess was glad she was immune to him, and wondered vaguely if there had ever been a special woman in his life.

  "I feel like Cinderella before the ball," Leo muttered, glancing from one of his brothers to the other. He was in jeans and a blue-checked shirt and boots, his blond-streaked brown hair shining like gold in the ceiling light.

  Cag didn't react, but Rey took him up on it, peering deliberately under the table to see if Leo was wearing a dress.

  "Cute, cute," Leo drawled. He picked up his fork and stabbed the air toward his brother. "I meant figuratively speaking. I don't wear dresses."

  "Good thing, with your hairy legs," Rey retorted. He glanced toward Cag. "You leaving?"

  Cag nodded as he finished a mouthful of eggs and washed it down

  with coffee. "I'm going to that legislative cattlemen's conference in Kansas City. I decided that I'd better go. The journals don't keep us completely up-to-date on pending legislation, and I've heard some rumors I don't like about new regulations."

  "I've heard those same rumors," Leo remarked.

  "We have to start policing our own industry better," Cag said. "All the rules and regulations and laws in the world won't work without better enforcement." He looked up. "You should have kept your seat on the legislative committee at the state cattlemen's asso­ciation."

  "Hindsight is a fine thing," Leo agreed. "I had too much to do at the time."

  "If they ask you again, take it."

  "You bet I will." He glanced at Cag. "Why don't you do it?"

  Cag smiled. "I've got more than I can do already, as you'll dis­cover when you look at the paperwork in the study. I only got half the figures keyed into the computer. You'll need to take the rest down to Margie in the office and get her to finish."

  "Sure."

  Neither Leo nor Rey noticed that Tess had turned away to the sink deliberately, because she knew why Cag hadn't finished that paper­work. She didn't want the other two brothers to see her flush.

  Cag noticed. He didn't look at her, though, because he'd become more readable lately where she was concerned. He finished his coffee and
got up.

  "Well, I'm off. I'll try to be back by next weekend. You can reach me at the Airport Hilton in Kansas City if you need me."

  "We won't," Leo said with a grin. "Have a good time."

  Cag glanced involuntarily at Tess, thinking how empty life without her was going to be, even for a few days. He'd grown all too fond of that red curly head of hair and those heavenly blue eyes.

  "Take care of Tess while I'm gone," he said, trying to make a joke of it and failing miserably.

  "I'll take care of myself, thanks very much," she shot right back and forced a smile, so that he'd think it wasn't killing her to watch him walk out the door.

  "You never told us how your application went," Leo said sud­denly.

  "Oh, I was accepted on the spot," Tess said. "They've scheduled me for three classes when fall quarter begins. I went to the financial aid office and applied for tuition, which they say I can get, and it will pay for my books."

  Cag frowned. "You've already applied?"

  "Yes," she said with determined brightness. "I start in three weeks. I can hardly wait."

  "So I see." Cag finished his goodbyes, added a few things for his brothers to take care of while he was away and left without another word.

  Tess wondered why he was irritated that she'd applied for admis­sion to the vocational school, when he'd already said he wanted her to do it. She knew he hadn't changed his mind. His behavior was puzzling.

  Cag was thinking the same thing as he slammed his hat on his head, picked up his suitcase, and went out the front door. He'd known she was applying, but now it was definite. He thought of her in his arms the night before, hungry for his kisses, and then he thought of all the young men she'd meet when she started classes. She might meet a young man who liked roses, too. He had visions of her youth­ful crush on him melting quickly away in the heat of a new romance, and it made him vaguely sick.

  He'd tried not to get in over his head, but it looked as if he was only fooling himself. Tess had wormed her way under his skin, right where his heart was. He wondered how he'd ever imagined that he could make a little love to her and walk away. He'd never been quite so confused or worried in his life. He wanted Tess as he'd never wanted anything. But he was afraid that she was in love with love, not him, because he was the first man who'd ever been intimate with her even in a slight way. He couldn't forget the fiancee who'd dropped him for someone younger. He couldn't bear to go through that a second time.

  He got into the ranch truck and drove toward the airport, but his heart wasn't in it. Tess was going to go away to school, and he was going to lose her. But not right away, he comforted himself. She'd

  still be living at the ranch. He'd have time to get himself sorted out. And it wasn't as if she was going to meet someone else at once. He had plenty of time. The thought comforted him, and he put that worry aside.

  Cag wouldn't have been quite so comforted if he'd seen the big black limousine that drew up in front of the Hart ranch house barely two hours after he'd left.

  Rey and Leo had already gone out with the men to look over a new batch of bulls when someone rang the doorbell.

  Tess wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and left the pots she'd been scrubbing in the sink when she went to answer it.

  A tall, taciturn man in a suit, carrying a briefcase, was standing there.

  "Miss Theresa Brady?" the man asked politely.

  It was a shock to hear her given name. She'd been called Tess for so long that she'd all but forgotten that it was a contraction of The­resa.

  "Yes," she said hesitantly.

  He held out a hand. "I'm Clint Matherson," he said, shaking hands. "Your late mother's attorney."

  Her hand went limp in his. "My...late...mother?"

  "I'm sorry to tell you that your mother passed away almost a month ago in Singapore. It wasn't possible to get word to you until now. I found you through a detective agency, but I've been out of town and the message only reached me a week ago. I'm very sorry," he said belatedly.

  She hadn't thought of her mother in years, and only then with regret. It might have been sad to lose her if she'd ever shown the slightest affection for her only child, but she hadn't.

  "I didn't know where she was," Tess said honestly. "We hadn't communicated since I was sixteen."

  "Yes, she, uh, made me aware of that. She left you a portfolio of stocks in a trading company out of Singapore," he added. "If we could sit down and discuss her will?"

  "I'm sorry. Of course. Come into the living room, please."

  He sat down in an armchair and laid out the documents on the spotless oak coffee table, moving her flower arrangement aside to make room for them.

  "I can't tell you much about this company. Frankly the stocks are as much a surprise to you as they are to me. She didn't ask my advice before she sank her money into them. You did know that she married a wealthy Singapore importer six years ago?"

  "No," Tess said stiffly. "As I said, we haven't corresponded."

  "A pity," he replied. "She gave up drinking and led a fairly ad­mirable life in her last years. She was widowed about the time she contracted cancer. Her illness perhaps changed her outlook some­what. I understand that she had plans to ask you to come out and visit with her, but she never carried them out." He smiled thinly. "She told me she was ashamed of the way she'd treated you, Miss Brady, and not too hopeful of making amends."

  Tess clasped her hands together on the knees of her jeans. "I would have listened, if she'd wanted to talk to me."

  He shrugged. "Perhaps it's just as well. But time is a great healer." He indicated the documents. "I'll have these stocks checked out by the end of the week. I should be able to give you some idea of their current worth on the Asian market then. You can decide whether you'd rather keep them or sell them. There are a few odds and ends, like her jewelry, which will be sent on to me and I'll forward them to you."

  The thought of having something, anything, of her mother's made her uneasy. "Wasn't there any other relative?"

  “A stepdaughter who still lives in Singapore. But she was already provided for by her father's will."

  "Wouldn't she like the jewelry?"

  He was surprised. "Well, she was fond of your mother, I under­stand. They were good friends. Yes, I imagine she would like it. But it's yours, Miss Brady. You were a blood relative."

  "I never felt like one," she replied stiffly. "I'd like the daughter to have the jewelry and the other...personal things." She glanced at him and away. "It's hard to put into words, but I don't really want anything of hers. Not even the stock."

  "Ah, but you have no choice about that," he said, surprising her. "There's no provision if you don't accept it. There must be some

  Diana Palmer379

  goal you've set in life that it would help you achieve. I understand that you work as a housekeeper here since your father's untimely death. Wouldn't you like to be financially independent?"

  That remark changed her life. If she had a little money of her own, Callaghan wouldn't have to keep her on here because he was sorry for her. It would give her some measure of independence, even if leaving Callaghan broke her heart.

  "Yes, I would," she answered the lawyer. "And I'll accept the stock. Thank you."

  He indicated the places her signature was required, closed the doc­uments up in his briefcase, shook hands and promised to be in touch soon about the stock.

  “How much do you think it could be worth?'' she asked hesitantly when he was on the verge of leaving.

  "Hard to tell. It was bought for eighty dollars a share, but that was last year."

  "And how much was bought?"

  He smiled musingly. "About a million dollars worth."

  She was pale. Her hand found the door and held on for support. "Oh."

  "So you see, you won't be dependent on other people for your livelihood. Your mother may have neglected you in life, but she didn't forget you at the end. That must be some comfort."

  It wasn't
, but she smiled and pretended that it was. She closed the door and leaned back against it. Everything had changed in the course of a few minutes. She was a woman of means. She could do what she pleased. But it would be without Callaghan Hart, and that was the hardest pill of all to swallow.

  She told the brothers about her visitor at the supper table.

  They were silent after she related the size of the inheritance, glanc­ing at each other as if communicating in some mysterious fashion.

  "I can still go to school, but I'll be able to support myself now," she told them. "And I guess," she added reluctantly, "I won't need to work. I'm sorry to leave, but we've known for a long time that Callaghan really would prefer to have another cook."

  "Why don't you ever call him Cag, like we do?" Leo asked gently.

  She stared at her coffee cup. "It never seemed comfortable, I guess."

  They exchanged another mysterious glance.

  "Well, we'll advertise as soon as Cag comes home and we have time to discuss what we want to do," Rey said. "We'll miss you, Tess. Especially your biscuits."

  "Amen to that. A good biscuit chef is really hard to find in these liberated times. I guess we'll be eating them out of tins from now on."

  "Now, now," Tess chided, "Dorie can bake biscuits and even real bread. I'll bet she won't mind keeping you supplied. But you'll find a cook. I know you will."

  They looked at her silently. "She won't be you," Leo said, and he smiled wistfully.

  Tess got used to the idea of leaving in the days that followed. She was almost reconciled to it when Cag showed up late the next Friday afternoon. He looked tired and worn and unhappy until he saw Tess. His black eyes began to light up at once, and her heart ached, because it could have been so different if he'd loved her. She stood quietly in the kitchen when she wanted to fling herself into his arms and kiss him to death.

  "Missed me?" he drawled.

  She nodded, but she wouldn't look at him. "I've got to gather eggs. I forgot this morning. Welcome home," she said belatedly as she carried a small wicker basket out the back door.

  "There you are!" Leo called, joining his brother in the kitchen. He clapped a hand on the taller man's shoulder. "How'd it go?"

 

‹ Prev