A Very Merry Romance

by Brenda Jackson

  Marilyn glanced at the clock on the wall. She only had another hour to wait. They had arrived at the cabin that evening. After dropping her off, Mrs. Madaris had given her a hug, then had gotten back into her car and driven off into the sunset. Literally.

  Marilyn liked this cabin. It was bigger than she’d originally thought, with one bedroom and one-and-a-half baths. There was also a living room with a sleeper sofa and an eat-in kitchen. The place was rather quaint, cozy and neat as a pin. The refrigerator had been stocked. Mrs. Madaris had said the men would eat out on the range, but that she’d sent Jonathan out with some homemade soup when he’d left earlier.

  She wondered what Jonathan was thinking when he’d decided to stay out here for a few days. There was electricity but no television, radio or telephone service. Marilyn had spent the last four hours reading the magazines she’d brought along. She had taken a short nap earlier, but was getting sleepy again.

  She decided to stretch out on the sofa and read another magazine. She didn’t think it would be wise to put on her pajamas, though, just in case Jonathan kicked her out. But then, without transportation, she couldn’t go anywhere unless he took her.

  Mainly, though, she was worried about what his reaction would be when he saw her. All she had to do was remember how he’d acted when he’d seen her last week. If looks could kill, she would be six-feet under right now.

  And how would he react when he found out his mother had been the one to bring Marilyn here?

  Well, she’d find out soon. But until then, Marilyn would close her eyes for a few minutes, and relax. She’d have her answers soon.

  * * * *

  Jonathan pulled his truck into the yard in front of the cabin. He didn’t recall leaving on any lights, but evidently he had. Bringing the truck to a stop, he drew in a deep breath. He was tired but welcomed the exhaustion, which is why he had volunteered to help his brothers. It had helped him forget for a while. Now that he was back at the cabin, he would shower and go straight to bed, too worn out to let Marilyn take over his dreams, which was a good thing. The less he thought of her, the better.

  Tomorrow he would sleep late and when he got up, he would go fishing. The lake was loaded with trout and he had a mind to catch one or two for tomorrow’s dinner. Getting out of his truck, he stretched his aching muscles as he recalled his meeting with Joseph Sanders last week. Since Marilyn had withdrawn the complaint, it would be as if the incident had never happened.

  That was easy for Joseph to say but Jonathan didn’t feel that way. It had happened and he couldn’t dismiss what she’d done.

  He knew something was wrong the minute he opened the door and walked inside. He picked up the scent of a woman, but not just any woman. Why could he pick up Marilyn’s scent in the cabin? Was he imagining it? Wishing for it? No, he didn’t think so. He closed the door behind him and glanced around. He saw the fire lit in the fireplace and knew for certain he hadn’t done that. What the hell was going on?

  Suddenly he heard a sound, a soft purring sound, like that of a cat. He crossed the room, then stopped and went still. Marilyn was stretched out on his sofa and she was purring in her sleep. Anger rushed through him. How did she get here?

  He knew the answer, even before the question fully left his mind. His mother. How could she? Hadn’t she believed him when he’d told her that he never wanted to see Marilyn again? He’d fully explained that he had needed time alone at this cabin to purge her from his heart.

  So then, why was she here? He was about to wake her when she made another sound. This one wasn’t a purr. It was his name. She was moaning his name in her sleep, and he tried not to notice how beautiful she looked doing it.

  She was wearing a pullover sweater and a pair of dark corduroy pants. And she was lying on her side, with her head rested against her hands. Jonathan thought she looked peaceful, as if she hadn’t a care in the world, when thanks to her, his world had almost come tumbling down. He was very, very angry with her. But that didn’t stop his gaze from wandering over her slumbering form.

  He zeroed in on the lips he had kissed so many times, and the neck he’d memorized with his tongue. Her eyes were closed so he couldn’t see into their charcoal gray depths, but he could recall how they’d turned a hot, smoky gray on the night they’d made love.

  She moaned his name again. He tried not to let it affect him that she was obviously dreaming about him. A fierce frown covered his features. He didn’t care if she was thinking about him while she slept. He decided to wake her up and get her out of here. He had come to the cabin seeking seclusion, so he could find a way to erase her from his mind, soul and heart. And he would do it. But first, he had to get her out of here.

  * * * *

  “Jonathan…”

  In the deep recesses of Marilyn’s sleep-induced mind, she and Jonathan were kissing. This is what she’d been missing, and as soon as his lips touched hers, she hadn’t been able to do anything but moan his name. She wanted him to kiss her all over, the way he’d done before and…

  Suddenly she felt a firm hand grip her shoulder. Opening her eyes, she looked up into the stern face of Jonathan Madaris. It was obvious he wasn’t happy to see her.

  “Wake up, Miss Bannister. What are you doing here?”

  His words were loud and fill with anger. She winced as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. “Please Jonathan, I’m right here. Do you have to scream?” Again, she noted that he’d called her Miss Bannister.

  “I want to know what you are doing here.”

  She craned her neck up to look up at him. It was as if he’d gotten taller, though she knew that wasn’t possible. “I had to see you.”

  “Why? I thought I made it clear. We are done.”

  “I know that, but we need to talk.”

  “We don’t have anything to talk about. You said it all a couple of weeks ago.”

  “I’m sorry. I regret everything I said. All of it.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. His broad chest. The chest she used to enjoy resting her head against on those Sunday nights they’d watch television together. “It’s too late.”

  She frowned up at him. “An apology can never come too late.”

  “Yours did. Now leave.”

  “I can’t. Your mother dropped me off,” she argued, getting to her feet.

  “Fine, I’ll take you back,” he said, pulling the keys from his pocket. But she snatched them out of his hand.

  “What do you think you’re doing? Give me my keys, Miss Bannister.”

  At that moment, she remembered Mrs. Madaris’ advice. She needed to do whatever it took to stop him from throwing her out. If he bullied her, she needed to bully him back. She had to show him how strong she was.

  Too bad she didn’t feel particularly strong at that moment. But this was the only chance she’d have, so she’d better become strong in a hurry.

  “No. I won’t give them to you, at least not yet.” And to make sure he didn’t try wrestling them from her, she quickly dropped them down her sweater and felt the cold metal against her breast.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  From the tone of his voice, she could tell he was really angry now. “I told you we needed to talk. We either do it now or in the morning.”

  “Sorry, but we aren’t talking, now or then. I’ve got a mind to put your little behind out the door.”

  The thought of him doing that almost made her panic, but she stood her ground. “There are wild animals out there. Maybe even bears. I could be mauled to death. I’m sure there are wolves. They might drag me back to the rest of their pack and--”

  “Please stop. You’re giving me a headache.”

  Marilyn wasn’t sure if that was a bad thing or a good one, as she watched him rub the bridge of his nose in agitation. “Fine. Stay the night. Sleep on the couch. But make no mistake about it, Miss Bannister. Tomorrow you’re leaving, even if I have to walk you back.” And then he strode into the bedroom,
slamming the door behind him with enough force, it made the entire cabin shake.

  Marilyn drew in a deep breath as she reached into her sweater and pulled out the keys. She quickly glanced around the cabin for a good place to hide them. She wouldn’t place them with her belongings, in case he decided to search through her stuff. Seeing the huge painting of a ferocious looking bear on the wall, she quickly felt behind it and found a hook. Great! She placed the keys on the hook, then readjusted the art work. He’d never find them there.

  When she walked back toward the sofa, she heard the shower going. It didn’t matter that she would have to sleep out here. The most important thing was that they would be sleeping under the same roof. Whether he liked it or not.

  32

  Jonathan groaned in sleep as he felt his body get hard. A part of his mind knew he was dreaming of making love to a woman, just like another part knew it wasn’t just any woman. It was the woman he wanted to hate. The woman whose scent seemed to take over the entire damn cabin. The woman whose body he was dreaming about sinking into.

  Why was he allowing himself to dream of her when she had caused him so much pain? But his body was proving it still desired her. He thought about the way she had dropped his keys into her sweater. He’d been tempted to reach in and pull them out. Even now, he was remembering how soft her breasts were....

  Suddenly, he was jolted awake by an urgent pounding on his bedroom door. He jerked upright in bed. What the hell? Quickly getting out of bed, he grabbed for his jeans and slid into them, not bothering with the snap. Walking over to the door, he snatched it open. Marilyn stood there, a terrified expression on her face. It took everything he had to remain emotionless and detached. “What do you want, Miss Bannister?”

  “I heard a noise by the window. Something or someone is trying to get inside.”

  He glared at her. “It’s probably just a bear. Go back to sleep.”

  He was about to close the door in her face when she said, “A bear! I can’t sleep knowing that a bear is trying to get in here.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Of course, he’s trying to get in. He figures it’s nice and warm inside and there’s probably plenty of food. Ignore the noise.”

  “I can’t. I won’t be able to sleep.”

  He frowned. “And how is that my problem?”

  Marilyn found it hard to believe that this was the same man she’d known, the one who used to see to her every need, who pampered her, who took so much pleasure in spending time with her. And now he was acting like a total jerk, all because of what his mother had referred to as the Madaris pride.

  Well, he hadn’t seen what her parents referred to as the Bannister fury. But he was about to.

  “I’m making it your problem, Jonathan Madaris.” She pushed past him and got in the bed.

  He turned and stared at her, his mouth dropping. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Getting some sleep. I’m a guest here, so there is no reason I should be the one sleeping on the sofa. Since the sound of a bear trying to get into this place doesn’t bother you, then you deal with it. Please close the door behind you.”

  Jonathan stood there and stared. Not only had he been put out of his bed, but he’d been dismissed. Like hell! He stalked over to the bed. “Get out of my bed, Miss Bannister.”

  “No! I’m tired. And I can’t sleep with a bear out there.”

  Jonathan couldn’t believe her. Wasn’t she the one who’d shown up uninvited? He couldn’t wait until morning to get rid of her. “I don’t intend to give up my bed,” he snarled.

  “And I don’t intend to fight you for it, Jonathan. As far as I’m concerned, we can share it as long as you stay on your side. It’s plenty big enough.” She scooted to the far side of the bed.

  He stood there and watched as she cuddled under the covers, then shifted to her side to face the wall, her back to him. A few moments later, he could hear the even sound of her breathing. She had actually fallen asleep! But if she thought he would share the bed with her, she thought wrong. He would sleep on the damn floor first.

  Feeling himself getting madder by the minute, he stormed out of the bedroom.

  * * * *

  Marilyn awakened to the smell of bacon frying. Or was it sausage? It didn’t matter. Whatever it was, it smelled good. She stretched and noticed that the sheets beside her hadn’t been disturbed. Jonathan had obviously chosen to sleep on the sofa. Oh, well. She’d fallen asleep quickly, surrounded by his scent in the bedcovers. She’d liked that.

  She needed to brush her teeth and wash her face, but her overnight bag was in the living room closet. Jonathan was awake already. Did she want him to see her in her pajamas? Then again, he’d seen her wearing nothing at all.

  Getting out of bed, she opened the door and walked into the living room. He was standing by the stove wearing only a pair of jeans. He glanced over at her, then frowned. “Where are my keys?”

  She smiled at him. “Good morning Jonathan. Sleep well?”

  Instead of answering, he just glared at her. “I don’t know what my mother told you, but I don’t want you here.”

  “That’s what she told me.”

  “Then why did you come?”

  “Because I’m hoping we can work things out.”

  She’d been honest but her words seemed to infuriate him even more. “There’s nothing to work out.”

  She placed her hand on her hips. “Were you lying when you said you loved me?”

  He frowned again. “What I said means nothing now.”

  Instead of responding, she went to the closet to get her overnight bag, knowing he was watching her every movement. Too late, she remembered she was wearing shorty pajamas that often rode up her hips when she bent over. And she was definitely bending over, giving him a good view of the shape of her backside.

  She quickly straightened and turned to look at him. He had been watching, although he was pretending not to. But she’d seen that flicker of desire in his eyes before he’d muted it. Without saying anything, she grabbed her bags of toiletries and headed back to his bedroom, closing the door behind her.

  * * * *

  Jonathan rubbed his hand down his face, convinced he was cracking up. He should have tossed Marilyn out on her rear end--her gorgeous rear end--the minute he walked in and found her sleeping on his sofa. His mother obviously thought she was smart by leaving Marilyn here without transportation. But he’d take her home, as soon as he could. He had to admit, she’d surprised him when she’d taken his car keys.

  She had accused him of playing games, but she was the one playing games now. He’d told her how he felt about her being here, but it didn’t seem to matter. She was going to do just what she wanted to do. Hell, she’d even kicked him out of his own bed. He hadn’t slept on anyone’s sofa in years, and never his own.

  Okay, so she hadn’t actually kicked him out of his bed. She’d offered to share it with him, but that would have been asking for trouble. There was always a chance that, while sleeping, he would be drawn to her scent and to her. He hadn’t wanted to risk that happening.

  Pouring a cup of coffee, he sat down at the table and ate while thinking of ways to get Marilyn away from here, if she refused to return his keys. He could do something he hadn’t done in years--send out smoke signals to his brothers. While growing up on Whispering Pines, Lenno Descheeny, a full-blooded Navajo whose job had been to handle the horses, had taught them how to send and read smoke signals. For years, that’s how he and his brothers had communicated out on the range. He wondered if it would work now. But then, there was a good chance they wouldn’t respond, not even to a SOS signal. Especially if they knew their mother was behind Marilyn’s presence at the cabin.

  “Whatever you cooked smells good.”

  He glanced up and wished he hadn’t. Marilyn had changed into a pair of jeans and pullover sweater in a shade of blue that did something to her gray eyes, making them appear more vibrant. And her hair was pulled back in a ponytail
. He’d never seen her wear it that way and thought the style made her look younger.

  Instead of responding, he got up from the table and placed his plate and cup in the sink. Then he moved past her to go into his bedroom, again slamming the door behind him.

  * * * *

  Not that she’d been timing him, but it had been more than an hour since Jonathan had stormed into his bedroom. When he finally came out, she said, “I was beginning to wonder if you’d forgotten you had a guest.” He’d showered and changed clothes, and was now wearing black denim jeans and a plaid shirt. He smelled good.

  “You are not a guest. We don’t have anything to say to each other. I don’t know how to make it plainer than that.”

  “You can’t.”

  He lifted a brow. “Then why are you here?”

  “To apologize. I tried apologizing before, but you wouldn’t accept it.”

  “And you think I’ll accept it now?”

  “I was hoping that you’d at least listen to what I have to say.”

  “I heard what you said two weeks ago, and I know what you told Joseph.”

  “But I withdrew my complaint, Jonathan.”

  “You should never have made it in the first place,” he snarled.

  It was obvious he was getting angry all over again. Then again, so was she. “You know what Jonathan,” she said, getting up and placing her plate in the sink. “It must be pretty taxing being perfect.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest. “I never said I was perfect.”

  “No, but you act like it. I guess you’ve never made a mistake in your life.”