by Diana Palmer
“Maybe only part of the year,” he mused. “We can’t let our businesses go to pot.”
“Spoilsport.”
He grinned.
While the two were dancing, oblivious to the other guests, a tall, dark man in a suit walked in and found himself a flute of champagne. He tasted it, nodding to other guests. Everyone was gathered around the dance floor of the ballroom in the Victorian mansion. He wandered to the fringes and caught his breath. There, on the dance floor, was Maddie Lane.
She was wearing a dress, a sheath of black slinky material that dipped in front to display just a hint of the lovely curve of her breasts and display her long elegant neck and rounded arms. Her pale blond hair shone like gold in the light from the chandeliers. She was wearing makeup, just enough to enhance what seemed to be a rather pretty face, and the pretty calves of her legs were displayed to their best advantage from the arch of her spiked high-heel shoes. He’d rarely seen her dressed up. Not that he’d been interested in her or anything.
But there she was, decked out like a Christmas tree, dancing with his best friend. John didn’t date anybody. Until now.
Cort Brannt felt irritation rise in him like bile. He scowled at the display they were making of themselves. Had they no modesty at all? And people were clapping like idiots.
He glared at Maddie. He remembered the last time he’d seen her. She backed away from Cort, but she was dancing with John as if she really liked him. Her face was radiant. She was smiling. Cort had rarely seen her smile at all. Of course, usually he was yelling at her or making hurtful remarks. Not much incentive for smiles.
He sipped champagne. Someone spoke to him. He just nodded. He was intent on the dancing couple, focused and furious.
Suddenly he noticed that the flute was empty. He turned and went back to the hors d’oeuvres table and had them refill it. But he didn’t go back to the dance floor. Instead he found a fellow cattleman to talk to about the drought and selling off cattle.
A few minutes later he was aware of two people helping themselves to punch and cake.
“Oh, hi, Cort,” John greeted him with a smile. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“Hadn’t planned to,” Cort said in a cool tone. “My dad had an emergency on the ranch, so I’m filling in. One of the officers of the cattlemen’s association is here.” He indicated the man with a nod of his head. “Dad wanted me to ask him about any pending legislation that might help us through the drought. We’ve heard rumors, but nothing substantial.”
“My dad was wondering the same.” John frowned. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” Cort said, making sure that he enunciated as plainly as possible. He stood taller, although he still wasn’t as tall, or as big, as his friend. “Why do you ask?”
“Because that’s your second glass of champagne and you don’t drink,” John said flatly.
Cort held the flute up and looked at it. It was empty. “Where did that go?” he murmured.
“Just a guess, but maybe you drank it?” John replied.
Cort set the flute on the spotless white tablecloth and looked down at Maddie. “You’re keeping expensive company these days.”
She was shocked at the implication.
“Hold it right there,” John said, and his deep tone was menacing. “I invited her.”
“Got plans, have you?” Cort replied coldly.
“Why shouldn’t I?” came the droll reply. “Oh, by the way, Odalie says her Italian voice teacher is an idiot. He doesn’t know beans about how to sing, and he isn’t teaching her anything. So she thinks she may come home soon.”
Maddie felt her heart sink. Cort’s expression lightened. “You think she might?”
“It’s possible. You should lay off that stuff.”
Cort glanced at the flute. “I suppose so.”
“Hey, John, can I talk to you for a minute?” a man called to him. “I need a new combine!”
“I need a new sale,” John teased. He glanced at Maddie. “I won’t be a minute, okay?”
“Okay,” she said. But she was clutching her small evening bag as if she was afraid that it might escape. She started looking around for someone, anyone, to talk to besides Cort Brannt.
While she was thinking about running, he slid his big hand into her small one and pulled her onto the dance floor. He didn’t even ask. He folded her into his arms and led her to the lazy, slow rhythm.
He smelled of spicy, rich cologne. He was much taller than she was, so her she couldn’t see his face. She felt his cheek against the big wave of blond hair at her temple and her body began to do odd things. She felt uneasy, nervous. She felt...safe, excited.
“Your hand is like ice,” he murmured as he danced with her around the room.
“They get cold all the time,” she lied.
He laughed deep in his throat. “Really.”
She wondered why he was doing this. Surely he should be pleased about Odalie’s imminent reappearance in his life. He hated Maddie. Why was he dancing with her?
“I’ve never raised my hand to a woman,” he said at her ear. “I never would, no matter how angry I was.”
She swallowed and stopped dancing. She didn’t want to talk about that.
He coaxed her eyes up. His were dark, narrow, intent. He was remembering what his father had told him, about the boy who tried to throw Maddie out a second-story window because of Odalie’s lies. He didn’t want to believe that Odalie had meant that to happen. Surely her female visitor had talked her into putting those nasty things about the boy and his family on the internet. But however it had happened, the thought of someone manhandling Maddie made him angry. It upset him.
He didn’t really understand why. He’d never thought of her in any romantic way. She was just Pierce Lane’s daughter. He’d known her since she was a child, watched her follow her dad around the ranch. She was always petting a calf or a dog, or carrying chickens around because she liked the sounds they made.
“Why are you watching me like that?” she faltered.
“You love animals, don’t you?” he asked, and there was an odd, soft glow about his dark eyes. “I remember you carrying Mom’s chickens around like cuddly toys when you’d come over to the ranch with your dad. You were very small then. I had to rescue you from one of the herding dogs. You tried to pet him, and he wasn’t a pet.”
“His name was Rowdy,” she recalled. “He was so pretty.”
“We never let anybody touch those dogs except the man who trains and uses them. They have to be focused. You didn’t know.” He smiled. “You were a cute little kid. Always asking questions, always curious about everything.”
She shifted uncomfortably. He wasn’t dancing and they were drawing attention.
He looked around, cocked an eyebrow and moved her back around the room in his arms. “Sorry.”
She didn’t know what to think. She was tingling all over. She wanted him to hold her so close that she could feel every inch of his powerful frame against her. She wanted him to bend his head and kiss her so hard that her lips would sting. She wanted...something. Something more. She didn’t understand these new and unexpected longings. It was getting hard to breathe and her heartbeat was almost shaking her. She couldn’t bear it if he noticed.
He did notice. She was like melting ice in his arms. He felt her shiver when he drew her even closer, so that her soft, pert little breasts were hard against his chest through the thin suit jacket he was wearing. He liked the way she smelled, of wildflowers in the sun.
He drank in that scent. It made his head swim. His arm contracted. He was feeling sensations that he’d almost forgotten. Odalie didn’t like him close to her, so his longing for her had been stifled. But Maddie was soft and warm and receptive. Too receptive.
His mouth touched her ear. “You make me hungry,” he whispered roughly.
“Ex-excuse me?” she stammered.
“I want to lay you down on the carpet and kiss your breasts until my body stops hurting.�
�
She caught her breath and stopped dancing. She pushed back from him, her eyes blazing, her face red with embarrassment. She wanted to kick him in the shin, but that would cause more problems.
She turned away from him, almost shivering with the emotions he’d kindled in her, shocked at the things he’d said to her. She almost ran toward John, who was walking toward her, frowning.
“What is it?” he asked suddenly, putting his arm around her.
She hid her face against him.
He glared at Cort, who was approaching them with more conflicting emotions than he’d ever felt in his life.
“You need to go home,” John told Cort in a patient tone that was belied by his expression. “You’ve had too much to drink and you’re going to make a spectacle of yourself and us if you keep this up.”
“I want to dance with her,” Cort muttered stubbornly.
“Well, it’s pretty obvious that she doesn’t want to dance with you.” John leaned closer. “I can pick you up over my shoulder and carry you out of here, and I will.”
“I’d like to see you try it,” Cort replied, and his eyes blazed with anger.
Another cattleman, seeing a confrontation building, came strolling over and deliberately got between the two men.
“Hey, Cort,” he said pleasantly, “I need to ask you about those new calves your dad’s going to put up at the fall production sale. Can I ride home with you and see them?”
Cort blinked. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“The barn doesn’t have lights?” the older man asked, raising an eyebrow.
Cort was torn. He knew the man. He was from up around the Frio river. He had a huge ranch, and Cort’s dad was hungry for new customers.
“The barn has lights. I guess we could...go look at the calves.” He was feeling very light-headed. He wasn’t used to alcohol. Not at all.
“I’ll drive you home,” the rancher said gently. “You can have one of your cowboys fetch your car, can’t you?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Thanks,” John told the man.
He shrugged and smiled. “No problem.”
He indicated the door. Cort hesitated for just a minute. He looked back at Maddie with dark, stormy eyes, long enough that she dropped her own like hot bricks. He gave John a smug glance and followed the visiting cattleman out the door.
“Oh, boy,” John said to himself. “Now we get to the complications.”
“Complications?” Maddie was only half listening. Her eyes were on Cort’s long, elegant back. She couldn’t remember ever being so confused.
* * *
AFTER THE PARTY was over, John drove her to her front door and cut off the engine.
“What happened?” he asked her gently, because she was still visibly upset.
“Cort was out of line,” she murmured without lifting her eyes.
“Not surprising. He doesn’t drink. I can’t imagine what got him started.”
“I guess he’s missing your sister,” she replied with a sigh. She looked up at him. “She’s really coming home?”
“She says she is,” he told her. He made a face. “That’s Odalie. She always knows more than anybody else about any subject. My parents let her get away with being sassy because she was pretty and talented.” He laughed shortly. “My dad let me have it if I was ever rude or impolite or spoke out of turn. My brother had it even rougher.”
She cocked her head. “You never talk about Tanner.”
He grimaced. “I can’t. It’s a family thing. Maybe I’ll tell you one day. Anyway, Dad pulled me up short if I didn’t toe the line at home.” He shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I had to clean the horse stalls when I made him mad.”
“Odalie is beautiful,” Maddie conceded, but in a subdued tone.
“Only a very few people know what she did to you,” John said quietly. “It shamed the family. Odalie was only sorry she got caught. I think she finally realized how tragic the results could have been, though.”
“How so?”
“For one thing, she never spoke again to the girlfriend who put her up to it,” he said. “After she got out of school, she stopped posting on her social page and threw herself into studying music.”
“The girlfriend moved away, didn’t she, though?”
“She moved because threats were made. Legal ones,” John confided. “My dad sent his attorneys after her. He was pretty sure that Odalie didn’t know how to link internet sites and post simultaneously, which is what was done about you.” He touched her short hair gently. “Odalie is spoiled and snobbish and she thinks she’s the center of the universe. But she isn’t cruel.”
“Isn’t she?”
“Well, not anymore,” he added. “Not since the lawyers got involved. You weren’t the only girl she victimized. Several others came forward and talked to my dad when they heard about what happened to you in the library. He was absolutely dumbfounded. So was my mother.” He shook his head. “Odalie never got over what they said to her. She started making a real effort to consider the feelings of other people. Years too late, of course, and she’s still got that bad attitude.”
“It’s a shame she isn’t more like your mother,” Maddie said gently, and she smiled. “Mrs. Everett is a sweet woman.”
“Yes. Mom has an amazing voice and is not conceited. She was offered a career in opera but she turned it down. She liked singing the blues, she said. Now, she just plays and sings for us, and composes. There’s still the occasional journalist who shows up at the door when one of her songs is a big hit, like Desperado’s.”
“Do they still perform...I mean Desperado?” she qualified.
“Yes, but not so much. They’ve all got kids now. It makes it tough to go on the road, except during summer holidays.”
She laughed. “I love their music.”
“Me, too.” He studied her. “Odd.”
“What is?”
“You’re so easy to talk to. I don’t get along with most women. I’m strung up and nervous and the aggressive ones make me uncomfortable. I sort of gave up dating after my last bad experience.” He laughed. “I don’t like women making crude remarks to me.”
“Isn’t it funny how things have changed?” she wondered aloud. “Not that I’m making fun of you. It’s just that women used to get hassled. They still do, but it’s turned around somewhat—now men get it, too.”
“Yes, life is much more complicated now.”
“I really enjoyed the party. Especially the dancing.”
“Me, too. We might do that again one day.”
She raised both eyebrows. “We might?”
He chuckled. “I’ll call you.”
“That would be nice.”
He smiled, got out, went around and opened the door for her. He seemed to be debating whether or not to kiss her. She liked that lack of aggression in him. She smiled, went on tiptoe and kissed him right beside his chiseled mouth.
“Thanks again,” she said. “See you!”
She went up the steps and into the house. John Everett stood looking after her wistfully. She thought he was nice. She liked him. But when she’d come off the dance floor trailing Cort Brannt, she’d been radiating like a furnace. Whether she knew it or not, she was in love with Cort. Shame, he thought as he drove off. She was just the sort of woman he’d like to settle down with. Not much chance of that, now.
Maddie didn’t sleep at all. She stared at the ceiling. Her body tingled from the long contact with Cort’s. She could feel his breath on her forehead, his lips in her hair. She could hear what he’d whispered.
She flushed at the memory. It had evoked incredible hunger. She didn’t understand why she had these feelings now, when she hadn’t had them for that boy who’d tried to hurt her so badly. She’d really thought she was crazy about him. But it was nothing like this.
Since her bad experience, she hadn’t dated much. She’d seen her father get mad, but it was always quick and neve
r physical. She hadn’t been exposed to men who hit women. Now she knew they existed. It had been a worrying discovery.
Cort had frightened her when he’d lost his temper so violently in her father’s office. She didn’t think he’d attack her. But she’d been wary of him, until they danced together. Even if he was drunk, it had been the experience of a lifetime. She thought she could live on it forever, even if Odalie came home and Cort married her. He was never going to be happy with her, though. Odalie loved herself so much that there was no room in her life for a man.
If only the other woman had fallen in love with the Italian voice trainer and married him. Then Cort would have to let go of his unrequited feelings for Odalie, and maybe look in another direction. Maybe look in Maddie’s direction.
On the other hand, he’d only been teasing at the dance. He wasn’t himself.
Cold sober, he’d never have anything to do with Maddie. Probably, he’d just been missing Odalie and wanted a warm body to hold. Yes. That was probably it.
* * *
JUST BEFORE DAWN she fell asleep, but all too soon it was time to get up and start doing the chores around the ranch.
She went to feed her flock of hens, clutching the metal garbage can lid and the leafy limb to fend off Pumpkin. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that it was going to come down to a hard decision one day. Pumpkin protected her hens, yes; he would be the bane of predators everywhere. But he was equally dangerous to people. What if he flew up and got one of her cowboys in the eye? She’d been reading up on rooster behavior, and she’d read some horror stories.
There had been all sorts of helpful advice, like giving him special treats and being nice to him. That had resulted in more gouges on her legs, even through her slacks, where his spurs had landed. Then there was the advice about having his spurs trimmed. Good advice, but who was going to catch and hold him while someone did that? None of her cowboys were lining up to volunteer.
“You problem child,” she told Pumpkin as he chased her toward the gate. “One day, I’ll have to do something about you!”
She got through the gate in the nick of time and shut it, hard. At least he wasn’t going to get out of there, she told herself. She’d had Ben go around the perimeter of the large fenced area that surrounded the henhouse and plug any openings where that sneaky feathered fiend could possibly get out. If she kept him shut up, he couldn’t hurt anybody, and the fence was seven feet high. No way he was jumping that!
