“Gems hold a special fascination for me, Cat. In a way, they’re like people: when you first discover them, put a miner’s light on them, they’re rough and unpolished. Then, as you take the time to gently loosen them from the matrix of pegmatite or sediment, you can carry them to the surface. It’s exciting to realize that what you carry in the palm of your hand hasn’t ever seen sunlight. As you bring it to the surface to watch the light refract through it for the first time, you’re the first one to ever witness it.” Slade gave her a soft smile. “It’s much like watching a person unfold in front of you, watching how they react and respond. Later, a jeweler will look at that rough specimen with a knowing eye, spot its inclusions and watch how the light refracts through it. He’ll cut it to bring out all of the natural fire and brilliance that has waited millions of years to be brought to life.”
“That’s an inspiring view.” At least he hadn’t mentioned money as his prime goal, Cat thought.
The corners of his eyes crinkled and he shared a look with her. “I’m comfortable with it. Although there are some people who are always going to be as impenetrable as iron ore.”
“How many diamonds have you met in your life, as opposed to plain old iron ore?” she asked curiously.
Slade laughed, enjoying her easy acceptance of how he saw the world. “I’ve met many an uncut gemstone in both men and women.”
“And a few iron-ore types?”
“Sometimes. In my business, as you already know, we’re a pretty interesting lot to begin with.”
Cat closed her eyes, suddenly exhausted for no reason.
“Tired?” Slade guessed. “Or bored with this piece of iron ore?”
“You’re hardly iron ore, Slade Donovan. But right now I think I’d better get some sleep before my opinions get me in trouble. I feel so tired all of a sudden.”
“Maybe it’s the company you’ve been keeping.”
“Now, Slade,” she reassured him, her eyes sparkling mischievously, “you’re hardly a bore, and you know it.”
A slow smile touched his strong mouth. “Just wanted to make sure.”
“You’re such an egotist,” Cat said, yawning, and slowly rose, then made her way from the cockpit to the cot in the cabin. Carefully, she lay down on her left side, then closed her eyes and spiraled into sleep.
Chapter Four
There was a mild bumping. Cat heard a change in the aircraft’s engines and stirred. She had fallen asleep just as they had flown over Pennsylvania’s border. Now they seemed to be landing. Probably refueling, she thought groggily, closing her eyes once again. With a sigh, she slid back into sleep.
Slade quietly made his way from the cockpit. It was early evening and the shadows were long as the sun edged toward the western horizon. Cat lay on her back, still sleeping soundly. He’d made a feather-light landing, the wheels gently kissing the parched Texas airstrip. Now they were home. Home… The feeling moved powerfully through him as he gazed down at Cat. Yes, they were home.
He approached the cot, noting that Cat’s skin was stretched tautly across her cheekbones and dark shadows lay beneath her thick lashes. It was her mouth, however, that made his body tighten with sudden, almost painful awareness of just how much this woman affected him. He felt the same kind of excitement that thrummed through him when he was close to finding the one rock leading him to a vein of hidden treasure.
Cat was a treasure, Slade had decided. He crouched down, one hand resting near her head and the other on her slender arm. Hungrily, he brought her close to him, breathing in her sweet scent. How vulnerable she was. Leaning over, Slade gently caressed her parted lips with his.
Cat’s lashes fluttered as she felt the warmth and pressure of Slade’s mouth molding to hers. Heat spiraled through her like a ribbon, flooding upward on its dizzying course. Slade’s breath fanned lightly across her cheek. Her heart pounded as his mouth coaxed her lips open, and she responded to him unquestioningly.
The instant Slade felt her returning pressure, his mouth worshipped her as if she were a fragile gift that would shatter if mishandled.
Cat drowned in Slade’s honeyed invitation, her nipples hardening against the confines of her blouse. He was strong and good and tasted wonderful. Her nostrils flared as she drank in the scent of his special blend of male aroma combined with a slight hint of shaving cream.
“Sweet,” he whispered against her wet, responsive lips. “God, you’re sweet emerald fire.”
Cat forced her lashes open, and became hotly aware of the naked desire in Slade’s face. His eyes held her captive with a look that went straight to her heart. This man was supremely confident of his masculinity.
“Did I turn into a frog or something while I slept?” she asked huskily, smiling.
Slade caressed her hair. “Hardly. You’re more like Sleeping Beauty!”
It was too much for her and Cat could barely think. Suddenly aware they were on the ground, she glanced around. “Where are we?”
Slade slowly moved out of his crouched position, knowing that if he didn’t, he’d be sorely tempted to kiss Cat again. “We’re in Del Rio, Texas. We’ve landed at Mourning Dove Ranch in time to see the sun set in a couple of hours.”
“We’re at the ranch? Already?”
“Sure.” Could she be as shaken as he was by that kiss? he speculated. Or was it simply that her bearings were off?
“How long did I sleep?” Cat looked at him shyly. Slade had his answer.
“A long time.” He reached out, brushing her flushed cheek. “But you needed it. Come on, I’ll help you up.”
Cat took his hand, biting back a cry of pain when Slade carefully levered her into a sitting position. Her face ashen, Cat thanked him and gripped the edges of the cot. Slade went to the hatch and opened it. The early evening sun and a slice of blue sky showed through the door. Dry Texas heat flowed through the cabin. Cat took a deep breath, then released it, feeling the tension pour out of her.
Slade grinned and lifted his hand in welcome as Carlos, his manager, came down the long, narrow dirt strip in a beat-up Jeep. “Our chariot has arrived, my lady,” Slade announced to Cat. “Are you ready to go to your castle?”
“Lead on, my prince,” she said with a flourish, moving to the door. “I’m rather curious to see this castle you’ve hidden in the desert.”
And desert it was. The earth was the color of bone, and was strewn with twisted, jade-green sagebrush. A few long-eared, black-tipped jackrabbits were in evidence, and the sun was strong and bright.
Cat gripped Slade’s hand as he led her down the stairs. She stood back and watched as Carlos climbed out of the olive-colored Jeep. He greeted them in Spanish, waving his straw cowboy hat exuberantly. As the men heartily embraced each other, Cat smiled. Carlos and Slade acted more like family than employer and employee.
With one arm around Carlos, Slade turned and introduced her to his number-one man. Carlos bowed grandly, then took her hand and kissed it.
“Señorita Kincaid, welcome to Mourning Dove. We’ve been expecting you for some time now.” Carlos’s coffee-colored face beamed with genuine sincerity as he released her hand.
Cat slid Slade a glance. “You’ve been expecting me for some time?”
Slade shifted awkwardly.
“Si, señorita,” Carlos confirmed, seemingly unaware of his friend’s discomfort. “Come! My wife, Pilar, has your room ready. Señor Slade told us of your injuries and Pilar can hardly wait to mother you as she has our other six children. She even has chicken soup waiting.”
Cat smiled and walked with Slade toward the Jeep. “Six kids?”
“Si. Señor Slade has sent two of them to college already. He’s practically their uncle. The other four are helping with the ranch when they’re not in school.”
Cat’s luggage, which had once been destined for Australia, was carefully placed in the Jeep. Slade sat in back, perched precariously between all the bags, while Cat sat in front. She was grateful that Carlos carefully negotiated the d
irt road leading from the airstrip to a rambling adobe brick ranch house surrounded by sturdy cottonwood trees. Cat tried to ignore the aggravating rib pain that seemed to be settling in for good, and concentrated on the ranch instead. The house was a testimonial to Texas’s tradition of spaciousness. She noticed solar reflectors on the roof, and the number of windows made her gape. She turned her head slightly to Slade, who sat behind her.
“You wouldn’t have had something to do with the design of this house, would you?” she asked sweetly.
His teeth were white against his tanned skin. “Why? Does it show?”
“Yes. How much reconstruction did you do after you moved in?”
“After I made my fortune from the El Camino, I was able to afford the walls of windows facing east and west. There’s more, but you’ll see it all when we get inside.”
Cat guessed that there were at least fifteen rooms in the house. Four chimney stacks rose from the roof. It would be fun to tour this house, she thought. What would it reveal of Slade?
Carlos parked the Jeep beneath a cedar-topped garage with no sides. Next to it stood a woman who looked to be in her forties, and whom Cat assumed to be Pilar. Her black hair was tightly wound into a crown of braids and she wore a simple white peasant blouse and a scarlet skirt. Her welcoming smile reminded Cat of Slade’s, and she smiled in return, feeling lighter and happier than she had in a long while.
Pilar gripped Cat’s left hand and squeezed it gently, introducing herself in halting English. Her warm brown eyes sparkled as she motioned for Cat to follow her.
If Cat could have taken a deep breath, she would have. The ranch reminded her of a geode: plain, gray and undistinguished on the outside, but once opened, a crystalline palace of shimmering beauty. Cat walked from the foyer and into the expansive living room. A slanting cathedral ceiling rose skyward with windows facing west to catch the late-afternoon and setting sun’s light. In one corner a floor-to-ceiling granite chimney, glinting with feldspar and mica, rose like a speckled black-and-white giant.
Trees and jungle foliage grew along a waterfall and stream winding through the living room. The wall opposite the windows held ten long shelves with a gem collection that took her breath away. Cat automatically held her ribs as she walked to the wall. Strategically placed lights brought out the rough, unpolished gems that ranged in size from as small as her fist to as large as a watermelon.
“Oh, Slade…” she whispered, entranced as she stood staring at them. She felt him come to her side.
“Like the collection?”
“Like it? This would rival some of the better museums I’ve been in.”
“Each specimen is from one of my trips.”
Cat couldn’t resist stroking a cantaloupe-size blue topaz crystal growing out of brown colored lepidolite rock. “And I’ll bet each one is a story,” she said, grinning, and returned the gem to its niche.
Slade tried to look serious. “I told you, I’m a master spinner of tales. True tales, I might add.”
“I intend to take you up on some of them, believe me,” Cat said, while inwardly estimating that this gem collection was easily worth at least a quarter of a million dollars.
“Not today, however.” He led her across handwoven Navaho and Hopi rugs and out of the living room. “Pilar’s already giving me dirty looks because I haven’t taken you to your room and gotten you into bed to rest.”
“Slade, I’m not an invalid. As a matter of fact, I hate being sick and I can’t stand being bed bound. Busted ribs might prevent me from riding one of those horses in the corral, but they can’t stop me from being mobile.”
He motioned down a wide hall and opened the first door on the left. Sunlight spilled into the room and one wall was composed all of glass supported by weathered cedar spars. Palms, their fronds grazing the slanted ceiling, graced each corner. A handwoven multicolored quilt covered the cedar double bed. The dresser and drawers were also of cedar and, if Cat wasn’t mistaken, hand carved. The room was spare, but homey.
“Over here is a desk, should you feel the urge to write a letter,” Slade said, motioning toward it, “or make phone calls. There’s also a stereo and a TV hidden in the cabinet over there, should you get bored with our company.”
“Slade, what a thought!”
“Carlos will bring your luggage in a minute. In the meantime, the bathroom’s over there and if you want to sweat out anything, the spa is directly outside the glass doors, across that brick patio and straight ahead. I’ll see you later.”
Cat turned as Slade quietly slipped out the door, leaving her to get adjusted to her new surroundings. She was grateful for this act of consideration. In fact, she felt better already. A knock on her door announced Carlos with her bags. Pilar arrived moments later to put all her clothes away for her, leaving Cat feeling extremely pampered and a little helpless. To remedy that feeling, she decided on a hot shower. Stepping to the dresser, she chose a pair of pale blue cotton pants and a dainty, short-sleeved turquoise blouse. Now that she was between jobs, she could allow herself to dress more femininely. On the job she always wore khaki pants, a T-shirt or a short-sleeved blouse.
Alone again, Cat stripped down, gently pulling apart the Velcro binding around her rib cage. The cloth bandage that had surrounded her torso fell away, leaving a weltlike imprint on her flesh. She reveled in the hot shower and wrapped herself with a white towel afterward. Relaxed, she padded into the bedroom to face the chore of getting dressed. No longer was she in the hospital where one of the nurses could help her get into her bra and then expertly wrap the elastic bandage around her ribs. Slade had discussed it with her earlier, saying that he was sure Pilar could do it for her instead.
Pilar was eager to help and understood Cat’s instructions fully. She hooked Cat’s lacy white bra and helped her into her slacks. Despite all her well-meaning attempts, however, Pilar could not rewrap the torso bandage properly. By the fourth try, Cat was sweating from the pain while Pilar tried futilely to maneuver and close it.
“I’m so sorry, señorita. Perhaps you can go without it?”
“I wish I could, Pilar. Would you go get Slade, please? He knows how to close it.”
Pilar’s eyes widened slightly as she set the wrap aside, but she said, “I’ll get him right away, señorita. Uno momento, eh?”
“Si,” Cat agreed. Already, she could feel a flush crawling up her neck and into her face. Slade would see her blushing. Well, what else could she do? Wear the bandage, not bathe and smell? No way. Slade was a paramedic: he would know how to rewrap her quickly and expertly.
There was a brief knock at the door and Slade entered. “Pilar said you’re in trouble,” he said, slipping through the door. He saw Cat’s red cheeks, and knew at once that she was having problems.
“Pilar gave the bandage the old college try, but it didn’t work. Would you mind wrapping it around me?”
Slade nodded, deliberately keeping his gaze above her neck as he approached her. “I’d ask Kai Travis to do this, but I just called their ranch and they won’t be home for two more hours, according to their maid, Maria.”
Cat watched him pick up the bandage and she stood, carefully raising her arms so that he could place it around her. “That’s all right. Pilar did her best. I guess we both should have expected this. Wrapping ribs is an art.”
Slade leaned down, perusing the large black-and-blue bruise that covered most of her right side. He gently touched the outer edges of the area. Cat inhaled slightly. “Hurt?”
“It’s okay.”
“Lie to anyone but me, Cat.”
“It hurts like hell.”
Slade grimaced. “And Pilar’s handling of the situation hasn’t helped, has it?”
“Hindsight. Don’t be upset with her. Can you get it on?”
“I’m not upset with Pilar. Grip my shoulder with your left hand and hold on.” He noticed a thin white scar that traversed the left side of her rib cage. “Looks like you’ve taken your share of rib injuries be
fore,” he commented. “All right, exhale. I’ll make this as fast as possible.”
Cat did as Slade requested, her fingers sinking into the folds of his blue chambray cotton shirt. She tried to steel herself against the coming pain. Slade was quick and efficient. She felt his other arm go around her shoulders the instant he closed the Velcro on the left side of her ribs, below her bra.
“You’re a good patient, Cat Kincaid,” he praised huskily, watching all the color drain from her face. Despite the pain, she hadn’t moaned or complained. Slade guided her to the edge of the bed to sit down. Picking up her blouse, he helped her slip it on. Then he crouched down in front of her, buttoning it for her.
Cat forced a slight smile. “Thanks…” Each touch of his fingers on the pearl-shaped buttons sent a tremor through her, erasing the pain, fanning a liquid flame higher and brighter within her.
“We can do one of two things,” he told her. “I can try to teach Pilar the art of wrapping or do it myself.” He glanced up at her. “Frankly, I don’t think your ribs need extra punishment while Pilar learns. You have any qualms about me doing this for you once a day?”
Cat shook her head. “No. Anything’s better than having someone learn to do this right now. It’s just too painful for me.”
“It’s my fault. I thought anyone could wrap ribs.”
Relaxing as the pain lessened, Cat managed a slight smile. “It’s nobody’s fault, Slade. I’m not upset if you aren’t.”
Slade captured the top button, just above the slight swell of her cleavage. “We’ll manage this together,” he promised, noting that his voice had thickened. He couldn’t react like this to Cat, or she’d choose to suffer through Pilar’s attempts, no matter what the cost to herself. No, when he kissed her again, Slade wanted her to know it wouldn’t be an occasion for pain. He wanted her to be totally willing and if he had read the sultry look in her half-closed green eyes correctly, they were both anticipating when it would happen again.
Solitaire Page 7
