by Jeanne Allan
Dallas carefully wiped some debris from her scraper. 'Should I assume you are referring to our marriage?'
'Assume whatever you want. You will anyway.' Clay picked up a roll of wallpaper from the dining-room table. 'This what you're going to use in here? I like it.'
His approval failed to appease her. 'Could I have understood you correctly? One of my humble efforts actually has your blessing? I'm overwhelmed. I must mark this on the calendar. Today I actually did something right.'
'You've got barbed wire for a tongue.'
'Is that so?' Descending the ladder, she picked it up to move it. 'I could have sworn there were times when you found my tongue quite—unobjectionable.'
Clay took the ladder from her grasp and set it down where she indicated. 'Are you trying to start something?'
She climbed back up the ladder. 'Like what?'
He leaned his hips against the dining-room table and crossed his arms in front of his chest. 'A fight that might end with me dragging you off that ladder.'
She gave him a look of disdain from her lofty perch. 'I thought we were having a civilised discussion, but maybe that's beyond your capabilities.' Angrily she slopped water on the wall to loosen the paper. 'If you think I'm trying to incite you to violence, you couldn't be more wrong.'
Clay raised a mocking brow. 'Who said anything about violence? You know damned good and well where it would end if I pulled you off that ladder.'
The truth of Clay's statement was irrefutable. They both realised that taking her in his arms destroyed her will to fight him. 'I'm not going to bother to deny the implications of your statement and give you an excuse to prove something we already know. I admit that I don't mind kissing you, but—'
'Don't mind?'
Dallas took a deep breath and ignored his mocking interjection. 'But that's beside the point. I—'
'What the hell is the point?' Clay grabbed both legs of the step-ladder and scowled up at her. 'That I haven't done enough penance or shown the proper amount of contrition?' He gave the ladder a slight shake for emphasis. 'How long do you intend to carry on this ridiculous holier-than-thou act? I never promised you that this marriage would be a walk in the park. At the first sign of trouble—'
'Hardly the first…'
'The first sign of trouble,' he repeated adamantly, 'you're ready to bail out.'
'I'm not bailing out. I—'
'What do you call it? I didn't marry you to have someone to repaper my dining-room.'
'No. You married me to take care of your niece. And I'm doing that.' Her chest was heaving with rage.
'I also told you that I wanted a real marriage.'
'And I told you I need more time.' She was gripping the ladder so tightly her hands hurt.
'How much time? Two weeks, two months, two years? How much time is enough to forget a past that has nothing to do with you? Why don't you admit it, Dallas? This isn't over something you read in Alanna's diary. That's only an excuse. You've spent your life flitting all over the world and now you don't want to settle down with a husband out here because you think it's the middle of nowhere. Only you're afraid to admit it, so you think you can drive me to ask you for a divorce. Well you can just forget all your hopeful schemes. I told you in the beginning that this marriage is for keeps.'
Dallas stared at him in disbelief. 'You're accusing me…?'
'Prove me wrong. Welcome me to your bed tonight.'
His challenge was intolerable. At the same time, the image it conjured up sent a wave of heated desire through Dallas's body. To disguise her reaction, she sought refuge in scorn. 'You're incredible. You're the one who—who… and you have the audacity to twist things around to make it seem as if I'm the guilty party. It wasn't me Kyle was mad at when he died.'
Clay's head snapped back as if she'd slapped him. 'It must be very satisfying to be perfect.' His face was white to his lips. 'I'm sorry I bothered you. I'll let you get back to your work.' His hands dropped from the ladder and he turned away.
Immediately Dallas regretted her hateful remark. 'Clay, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…'
Clay's back was rigid as he paused in the doorway. 'Didn't mean what? That my brother was unforgivably hurt? That I will carry to the grave the look of betrayal on his face?'
'No. I… I'm just sorry.'
'Sorry that I killed my brother as surely as if I held a gun to his head because he was angry at me that night and drinking too much to forget what he thought I'd done?'
Dallas couldn't stand the pain in Clay's voice. 'No!'
'Never mind. I know why you're sorry. You're sorry you married me.'
CHAPTER SEVEN
'Clay, wait.' Dallas jumped from the ladder. Haste made her careless, and she caught her toe on the bottom rung, collapsing the ladder and sending herself flying to the floor, her tools and the bucket of water crashing down beside her.
Clay was immediately at her side, swearing as he untangled the ladder from her arms and legs. 'You are the clumsiest…'
The anxious light in his eyes contradicted the angry snarling, and Dallas gave him a wan smile of reassurance. 'I always get off a ladder this way.'
'When you're tired.' He leaned the ladder against the wall.
Dallas nodded, pleased that the bleak look on Clay's face had faded slightly. She was wearing an old flannel shirt over her T-shirt, and she took it off and began mopping up the spilled water. What Clay had done couldn't be erased, and only an idiot would tell him he had no reason to feel guilty. They simply had to learn to live with his past, both of them—Dallas took a deep breath—starting now. 'Recriminations and angry words will get us nowhere,' she said, concentrating on finding all the spilled water. 'Maybe we can't wipe the slate clean, but at least we can turn the page.'
Clay dropped to the floor beside her and took the shirt from her hand. 'I'm willing to try if you are.' He squeezed the water from the fabric and draped it over the bucket. The blue of his eyes deepened as he pulled Dallas up to her knees. 'I've missed having a wife.'
His voice was a whisper of breath against her cheek before his mouth cut off any response. Her legs burned where his thighs touched hers. When his lips abandoned her mouth to burn a trail down her neck, she asked, 'Any wife?'
His chuckle tickled her skin. 'Not any wife. A stubborn, opinionated, bad-tempered wife with hazel eyes that spit sparks.' His mouth returned to hers, and he lightly bit the tip of her tongue. 'And with a barbed-wire tongue that I find quite— unobjectionable.'
She felt herself blush as he mimicked her earlier words. 'I don't exactly sound like the wife of a man's dreams.'
His tongue traced the curve of her ear. 'Who wants a dream wife?' Wrapping his arms around her, he buried his head in the crook of her neck. 'I prefer flesh and blood.' Pulling her with him, he sat back against the wall. 'What's this?' Reaching behind him, he pulled out a picture. 'The Witch of the Spanish Peaks. Where did you find her?'
Her emotions in turmoil, Dallas welcomed the respite that answering the question would give her. Reason indicated that inviting Clay back into her bed would be the quickest way to banish the spectre of the past, but deep within her was a tiny kernel of reluctance that, even as she failed to understand it, she could not ignore. 'I found her in the attic. She goes well with the wallpaper.' She frowned. 'But if she's a witch…'
'Not a real witch. She's an early ancestor. On my mother's side.' He rumbled with laughter. 'Kyle named her. The Spanish name for the Spanish Peaks is Huajatolla, a corruption of the original Indian name, which meant "breasts of the world". You'll notice the lady of the portrait is well-endowed.' He held the picture out in front of them.
'That's your definition of a witch?'
'She also has a face that would stop a train. Little boys believe that witches are old crones.' He set the picture aside and turned to her. 'It isn't until they grow up and become bewitched that they learn the truth.'
Her eyes flickered shut beneath the intensity of his gaze. 'What truth?' she managed before he pull
ed her on to his lap facing him. His mouth came down on hers, demanding a response. Every nerve in her body was tingling by the time he lifted his head to answer her question.
'That it's women like you who are dangerous,' he said, cupping her face with his hands. He ran a thumb across her quivering lips. 'A mouth so soft and inviting should be outlawed.' His head descended, and her body trembled as he lightly ran his fingers down the front of her T-shirt.
By the time he released her lips, she knew what she had to do. Casting aside her doubts, she concentrated on a dark hank of hair that brushed the top of his collar. 'If you want to… that is… my bedroom door is open.'
Clay shook his head. 'As much as I want to accept…' Taking her hands from around his neck, he held them firmly against his chest. 'I'm not trying to seduce you into changing your mind.' He pressed a kiss into the palm of each hand. 'I can wait until you're sure.' He rose to his feet.
Dallas's eyes rose the long length of jean-clad legs, past the flannel-covered breadth of his chest to dark eyes which locked with hers. Her breath caught in her throat at the expression in Clay's eyes. To break the spell, she deliberately fluttered her lashes. 'Can you?' Her voice was rife with provocation.
'You are a witch.' Clay's voice was thick as he pulled her to her feet with one swift movement. 'Behave yourself or I'll forget why I came in here in the first place.' He dropped a quick, hard kiss on her lips. A kiss that held promise for the future. 'We're invited to a big shindig up in Colorado Springs on Saturday night. The Anderson's fiftieth wedding anniversary. They ranched north of here before retiring in the Springs. Most of the people you met the other night will be there. Along with about half of Colorado, if I know the Andersons. We'll fly up and spend the night.'
'I can't leave Nicky overnight,' Dallas said in dismay.
'Of course you can. Dad will come over and stay with her, and Sara will be close by.'
Dallas shook her head. 'No. It's too soon.'
'And when won't it be? Are we going to be confined to the ranch the rest of our lives because Nicky is afraid we won't come back? You're the one who keeps saying the longer we give in to her fears, the longer it will take her to conquer them.'
'I know.' She sank to her knees and aimlessly moved her tools around. 'She's doing so well. I don't want to rush things.'
'Be honest. You don't want to go because you don't like my friends.' He frowned down at her. 'Burt and Hazel Anderson stood up for my folks at their wedding. Going to their party would be too hard on Dad, so we're going as his representatives.'
'You go without me.' Taking her shirt from the bucket's rim, she carefully folded it up. Clay's stare was burning a hole in her. 'Tell everyone I'm sick or something. I'm not going.'
Clay gave a harsh laugh. 'I should have known your resolve to try harder was only empty words.'
His accusation cut deep, and she said, 'That's not fair. I meant with our marriage.'
'I'm asking you to go to a party with me. As my wife. To meet my friends. As much as you enjoy open bedroom doors, marriage is more than that.'
Dallas could feel her face flame. Clay went straight for the jugular vein. 'And I should have known that I couldn't count on you to understand.' She jumped to her feet, ignoring his outstretched hand. 'What time are we leaving on Saturday?'
Dallas could hear Clay in the adjoining hotel room as she fiddled with the honey-brown tendrils of hair that framed her face. Needlessly she checked the pins that secured her hair atop her head. She'd panicked when Clay had informed her that the party was formal, but they'd flown into Colorado Springs earlier in the day, and there had been plenty of time for her to shop for a dress while Clay had attended to some business.
She smoothed the salmon-coloured silk over her hips. Her heart was beating fast, sending waves of perfume into the air. Had she used too much scent? Her hand went to her throat and skin met skin. The real cause of her nervousness. What if Clay didn't like her dress? What if he thought it was too sophisticated, too provocative for a country-looking girl with freckled skin? She bent closer to the mirror. No amount of make-up could hide all those freckles. No wonder Clay could contain his desires. Separate hotel rooms.
'Knock, knock.' Clay breezed in without waiting for her reply. He held up his hands, his shirt cuffs flapping loosely at his wrists. 'I don't know what diabolical mind…' The sentence trailed off as he loosed a low whistle of admiration. 'Well, well, well, Mrs Dalton. I see you spent your afternoon profitably.'
'Like it?' She twirled for his approval. Anything to cover up the sudden desire that had surged through her body at his appearance. If Clay was tall and lean and masculine in his work clothes, in formal wear he was positively breathtaking. What was it about the solid white shirt front that made her crave to slide her palms up it?
Clay caught her hands and held them out from her sides as he studied her from head to toe. 'What happened to my wife? You know the lady I mean—the one in tight jeans and loose boots.'
She rescued her hands and, taking one of his cufflinks, inserted it in the cuff. Frowning over her task, she said, 'She lost her nerve, so sent me.' She risked a quick look upward. 'You don't mind?'
He held out his other arm. 'I'm not sure. Are you a witch, too?' His voice was low and seductive.
'Maybe.' Turning away, she picked up a comb and pretended to fix her hair.
Clay stood behind her, watching their twin images in the mirror. A hand around her midriff pulled her back against his lean body, enabling his fingers to trace the deep V of her neckline. 'You're tempting me, Mrs Dalton, to say the hell with my obligations.' He dropped a quick kiss on her shoulder and then moved away, only to stop in the doorway between their rooms. 'The Andersons have been like second parents to me, but right now I wish I'd never heard of them.'
In the hotel lift, Dallas gripped her purse tightly. The lift car was mirrored, reflecting back their images. She studied Clay in the mirror through her lashes. He wore his black formal wear with an easy elegance, but even the well-shaped jacket could not disguise the muscles that lay temporarily quiescent beneath the fabric. Her silk-clad arm barely touched him, but she could feel his hard strength, and each nervous breath she took was filled with his scent. She wanted to move away, but knew he'd correctly interpret such a move. The swift downward movement sent her stomach plunging.
'You'll be the belle of the ball,' Clay said.
'Being generous in your victory?'
Clay gave her a swift glance. 'I thought that military kids learned how to cope with life's changes and new experiences.' He moved aside as the doors silently opened.
Dallas stepped out. 'Some do and some drop out. I managed, but never silently. My mother used to beg me to quit verbally bleeding all over her.' She gave a half-laugh. 'I think I left my courage in the elevator.'
Clay stopped in the middle of the enormous lobby. 'You really are nervous about tonight,' he said slowly.
'Give the man an "A" for perception.'
'It never occurred to me…I thought you were being obstinate for the sheer pleasure of annoying me.'
Dallas half choked. 'You call me obstinate! You're the one getting your way. As usual, I might add.'
Clay guided her down the hall, bending his head to speak softly in her ear. 'That's funny. I can't remember the last time I had my own way… with you.'
The party was in full swing, music blasting through the double doors of the hotel ballroom. Taking Dallas's arm, Clay led her over to the receiving line and introduced her to the anniversary couple. After a few minutes of small talk, Dallas began to relax. Then, from across the room, she recognised the woman who'd made the poisonous remarks about Alanna. A craven impulse made her slip her hand into Clay's. He gave her fingers a comforting squeeze and guided her towards a bar set up in one corner. Glasses in hand, they rejoined the crowd that swirled about the edges of the dance-floor.
Several men hailed Clay, but he pointed towards the dance-floor. Dallas's conscience nipped at her, sure that Clay felt oblige
d to stay with her, having forced her to come. 'I feel like the proverbial ball and chain,' she said in a rush. 'You don't have to dance with me.'
Clay unleashed a slow, lazy smile at her. 'Aren't newly-weds supposed to be inseparable?'
Dallas caught her breath at the sensual gleam in Clay's eyes. The deep voice behind her was welcome.
'How the mighty have fallen.' A large, dark-haired man vigorously slapped Clay on his back as Dallas turned.
Vicky Gomez, Nicky's teacher, laughed as she watched the two men. 'Dallas, I want you to meet my husband Tony.'
His large hand swallowed Dallas's hand up. 'Vicky can't stop talking about all the great ideas you've given her. She was getting a little tired of teaching, but you've reinspired her.'
'All I did was—' Dallas started to say, self-consciously.
Vicky turned to Clay. 'All she did was totally rearrange my room so that I can manage my class better, not to mention giving me tips on discipline and how to communicate with the kids. I have one student that I'd absolutely despaired of. Her last teacher said she was a model child, but I found her totally incorrigible. It took Dallas to see that the poor kid was having trouble handling her folks' divorce. The kid still isn't a model student, but Dallas has been spending time with her and the progress is unbelievable. And just look at Nicky. Marrying Dallas is the best thing you could have done for your niece.' Vicky smiled at Dallas. 'Not that Clay married you for that reason, of course.'
Dallas smiled weakly back. 'Of course.'
Vicky turned back to Clay. 'When the principal at the high school heard about the classes Dallas presented back in Virginia teaching parents and teenagers how to communicate with each other, she immediately began making plans to borrow Dallas. I'll bet you never even considered what a godsend Dallas and her expertise would be to us all when you married her.'
'I can honestly say that didn't enter into my calculations. Maybe we should have discussed it,' Clay gave Vicky an engaging grin, 'but we always had other things to talk about.'
