His mouth twisted wryly. "I couldn't have looked that upset. I was just wondering about your social life this past year."
"It's been a fun year," Devon said firmly as she opened the front door and started up the stairs to her flat.
Garth felt something clench in his guts. "How much fun have you had, Devon?" he asked quietly as he followed her up the stairs.
Devon heard the coolness in the question and shivered a little as she opened her front door. "You don't have the right to ask any questions, Garth," she said softly. She stepped into her stylish, black-and-white living room, feeling more sure of herself in her own home. The apartment had been furnished to her taste with a white carpet, polished black furniture and here and there a dash of exotic, brilliant red.
Garth stood in the doorway, taking in the sophisticated room. "This place looked better at Christmas when you had a tree in the corner and some decorations around."
Devon shrugged, secretly relieved he was apparently not going to pursue his earlier question about her social life. "I like the sleek, modern look."
"I'll admit it's about as far away from Hawk Springs as you can get," he said with a glance that dismissed the entire apartment. His clear gray eyes caught and trapped her. "Just tell me the truth, Devon. It's been eating me alive."
She swallowed at the blunt honesty of the question. So much for hoping he wouldn't persist in his quest to find out about her social life. Garth never gave up until he had the answers to his questions. To give herself time to think of a light response, she walked toward the hall that led to the single bedroom. Perhaps she should lie, tell him she'd had other lovers this past year. It might solve the intolerable problem she faced. Then again, it might not. Garth was a very persistent man. "Help yourself to a drink while I change my clothes. I don't have any beer, but I've got some wine. I'll start dinner as soon as I'm out of this suit."
"Devon."
He hadn't raised his voice behind her, but then, he didn't need to. Garth Saxon had been in command of himself and his world for so long that the habit of being in charge came naturally to him. The habit of responding obediently came just as naturally to those around him, Devon thought ruefully. She stopped and turned to face him. When she saw the intent need to know in his eyes, her will to resist collapsed. This was Garth. Whatever else came between them, she wouldn't lie to him.
"I've gone out on a few dates," she said carefully, "but I haven't... Oh, for heaven's sake, Garth. You know there hasn't been anyone else. How could there be as long as we had an understanding?"
He nodded, looking at once satisfied and complacent. The intensity disappeared from his eyes. "I know, Devon. Guess I just wanted to hear you say it. There've been times this past year when I thought I'd drive myself over the edge wondering. Forget it. It's all over now, thank God. I'll open some wine while you change. I'm looking forward to some of your cooking."
Devon watched helplessly as he disappeared into the kitchen. At Christmas when he'd been here he'd acted like a guest. This evening he was acting as though he owned the place. When she heard the sound of the refrigerator door being opened, she whirled around and hurried down the hall to the safety of her bedroom.
Her odd state of ambivalence was annoying and disconcerting, she thought as she peeled off the black and white suit and hung the yellow silk blouse on a padded hanger. A part of her had known instinctively that Garth would show up today, but another part of her had been so certain that everything had changed during the past year and that somehow he would realize it.
Her present mood was precarious. She felt unnerved and uncertain. Garth was walking back into her life with his usual forthright, uncompromising manner, and even though she'd had a year to plan for this moment, she still wasn't sure how to handle it.
When she'd finished changing her clothes she wandered slowly back down the hall and into the kitchen. Standing in the doorway she watched Garth pour Johannesburg Riesling into two glasses. He always seemed to move in that slow, easy, deliberate way. It could be deceptive, Devon knew. When the occasion called for it, Garth could move with a blinding swiftness that was backed by a rawhide-tough strength.
He glanced up as she entered the kitchen. His gaze moved over the emerald silk blouse and then fell to the cream-colored designer jeans that hugged her derriere and tightly sheathed her legs all the way to her narrow ankles. Garth stopped when he reached the tiny, black ballet-style slippers she wore on her feet, and his eyes came back up to her face. There was a trace of amusement in his faint smile.
"Those fancy clothes would last about fifteen minutes back in Hawk Springs."
"I know." Devon took the glass he offered. "The reverse was true when I moved to San Francisco. I was embarrassed to be seen on the streets in my Hawk Springs clothes. This is a very sophisticated city."
Garth's eyes narrowed consideringly. "And you've learned to fit right in, haven't you, Devon?"
"I try," she said lightly. She was about to take a sip from the glass, but Garth stopped her by touching the rim of his glass to hers in a small, meaningful salute.
"To us, Devon," he said quietly. "It's been a long time."
She stared up at him, very aware of just how large he was. When he was gone, she could forget about his size and the carefully controlled power that radiated from him. But in person there was no way on earth to ignore it. "Yes," she said tonelessly, "it's been a long time."
They sipped their wine in silence for a moment until Devon grew too uneasy beneath the pressure of Garth's wordless intent. She could feel it reaching out to her, reestablishing connections she thought she'd broken this past year. Without even touching her he was making her vividly aware of the claim he had on her. Restlessly she moved to the refrigerator.
"Hungry?" Devon asked for want of anything more brilliant to say.
"Starving."
She sensed the double meaning behind the word and chose to ignore it. Instead she busied herself taking fresh ginger, daikon, sesame seed paste and peanut butter from the refrigerator. "So. Give me all the news. How are things back in Hawk Springs?"
"Pretty much the same as when you left."
Devon made a wry face as she closed the refrigerator and went to the cupboard for a package of thin noodles. "I could have guessed as much. Nothing ever changes back there. How's your brother?"
"Ryan?" Garth grimaced as he named his half brother. Ryan was a few years younger than Garth, close to Devon's age. "Nothing much changes with him, either. Still trying to make a fortune with computers. He still worries me at times."
"He's basically a good boy, Garth."
"That's his whole problem. He's still a boy. At his age, he ought to be settling down and acting like a man. He ought to be assuming responsibilities. He was raised on a cattle ranch, same as I was. He knows how to work for a living. He should have stuck to ranching instead of trying to make his way in something like computers. I probably should never have sent him to college."
"You're too hard on him." This was something she and Garth had in common, Devon acknowledged. Both of them, through slightly different sets of circumstances, had wound up being responsible for younger brothers.
In Garth's case it was because his widowed father had remarried a much younger woman and had another son. When Ryan was ten years old his mother had left, leaving Ryan to be raised by his father. Chase Saxon had done his best but something had gone out of him when his beautiful young wife had left him. He'd turned to the bottle with steady persistence and Garth had had to assume responsibility for the ranch and his younger half brother. Eventually the alcohol had killed the elder Saxon in the form of a collision with a tree on a lonely road at two in the morning.
"I might be hard on him if he were actually living at the ranch, but he's not. He's got a job in L.A. now," Garth said. "He tells me he's an account executive, whatever that is. I think it translates as computer salesman."
Devon was surprised. "Good for him," she said approvin
gly.
"We'll see. I'd be happier if he'd shaped up the way Lee did."
"My brother is a different kind of person. He needed guidance from a man, and when he got it he responded to it. What works with one type of human being doesn't necessarily work with another. Also, you're related to Ryan. That makes a difference, too. I think Ryan's always subconsciously trying to compete with you, trying to prove himself."
"Maybe." Garth looked skeptical. He wasn't big on psychological analysis. He preferred cold hard facts and concrete realities. He was good at dealing with that kind of thing.
"If he makes it on his own in L.A. he might be better equipped to handle his relationship with you—he needs to feel he can hold his own. In case you aren't aware of it, Garth, that's not an easy task."
He gave her his slow, rare grin. "Am I that intimidating?"
"You can be," she assured him.
"Well, you shouldn't have to worry about proving anything to me, Devon. You've already proved everything you'll ever need to prove to anyone, including yourself. There aren't a lot of young women who would have had the guts and the stamina to take on the responsibilities you took on after your folks were killed. Just look at what you accomplished. You paid off all your father's farm debts and kept yourself and your brothers afloat financially for five years, until you got both boys into college. Everyone in Hawk Springs knows it wasn't easy. And everyone in town knows you didn't go on welfare or take any charity to get by, either. You should be proud of what you did for yourself and Lee and Kurt."
"Mostly I'm just glad it's over," Devon told him with an unconscious sigh. "There were times when I thought I'd be trapped forever in Hawk Springs."
"You'll be able to appreciate it more now when you return," Garth said easily.
Devon slid him a quick, sidelong glance. "You didn't think I'd stay away the full year, did you, Garth?"
He shrugged. "I suppose I thought you'd get tired of big city life and come home before the year was out. You're a small-town girl at heart." He seemed totally oblivious to the sophisticated statement made by the apartment and her clothing.
"As it turned out," Devon said pointedly, "I discovered I love city life."
"I don't think so," Garth said judiciously, as if he'd given the subject a great deal of thought. "You just needed a change for a while. Or at least you thought you did. You wanted a break from all those years of struggling and worrying about Lee and Kurt. Hawk Springs will look different to you when you come back as my wife. You'll be able to think about your own life instead of spending all your time worrying about your brothers. That difference will change your opinion of the place. You'll see."
One of the most difficult things to fight in Garth was his habit of being utterly certain of his own decisions. Devon knew he never made them in haste. He always took his time, weighing every side of a question, analyzing all the aspects of it and finally arriving at the conclusion and a plan of action that was unshakable. The fact that he was almost always right in his decisions made him even more difficult to battle. Trying to deflect Garth from his chosen path was like standing in front of a herd of charging buffalo and yelling "Shoo." One could get trampled. Sane people got out of the way.
"Actually," Devon said as she dumped the noodles into boiling water, "I've been doing a lot of thinking about my life while I've been here in San Francisco."
"Yeah?" Garth sounded only politely interested.
"Yeah." She swung around to face him, bracing herself with her hands on the counter behind her. "Has it occurred to you, Garth, that we, that is you and me, might not, uh, be suited to each other?"
He took a long swallow of wine. "No." He reached for the bottle and refilled his glass.
In the face of that flat denial, Devon wasn't quite sure how to proceed. She cleared her throat. "Garth, be reasonable. We have a lot to think about, a lot to consider before we rush into marriage."
"I've spent the past twelve months considering the subject."
She looked at him anxiously. "And you can truly say you haven't had any second thoughts?"
"The only second thoughts I've had are about my not-so-bright decision to let you have your year in the city." He smiled laconically. "I don't make many mistakes, but I'm beginning to wonder if that one wasn't a major tactical error."
A burst of frustrated anger swept through Devon. She turned back to the counter and began combining the peanut butter with soy sauce and sherry. "All right, Garth, I'll be honest with you. I've had a lot of second thoughts about our plans. I know I gave you my word a year ago, but you have to admit you were putting a lot of pressure on me at the time."
"As I remember, I was making love to you at the time. You call that putting pressure on you?"
"Yes, damn it, I do!"
He didn't bother to acknowledge the fierce comment. Instead, Garth glanced around the kitchen and out into the living room. "We've got a hell of a lot of packing to do here. If we get busy after dinner tonight we should be able to get most of your personal stuff into boxes. We'll call a mover for the rest."
"Garth, please, listen to me. I really have been thinking about this and I don't believe I'm going to make you a good wife. You need someone different, someone who'll be content to live on a ranch, someone who won't mind eating beef every night of the week. Someone who won't object to cooking breakfast for you at five in the morning. Someone who won't mind the dirt and the smell of horses. Someone who won't mind driving a truck instead of a sports car. Someone who won't care that all the money has to go into land instead of more frivolous things. Someone who wants to give you a whole bunch of kids. The last thing you need is someone like your ex-wife.''
There was an endless moment of shattering silence and then Devon felt Garth move up behind her. He closed his big hands around her shoulders, turning her to face him. His gray eyes were gleaming as he looked down into her earnest, wary face.
"Are you trying to tell me in your own inimitable fashion that you think you're similar to my ex-wife?"
Devon curled and uncurled her fingers into her palms. "I think it's a possibility you should consider." She had never met Garth's former wife. Garth had been divorced for more than a year before he'd moved to Hawk Springs. But Devon had made several shrewd guesses about the woman based on the few, clipped comments Garth had made from time to time. She imagined a bright, beautiful creature who had enjoyed the good life Garth's money could buy but not the life-style Garth chose to live.
"My ex-wife," Garth said very distinctly, "was a shallow, selfish woman who would have let her brothers go into foster homes rather than give up her own happiness to care for them. She loved to seduce a man because it gave her a feeling of power, but in bed she was as cold as ice. A manipulator. She was all promise but no substance. When the going got tough, you could count on her to be gone. She was a beautiful woman but there was no real passion behind the beauty. She was too self-centered to be able to give herself to a man, even though in the end she ran off with one she thought could give her what she wanted. I've made a few mistakes in my life, Devon. Marrying Tamara was one of them. But I learn from my mistakes and I never make the same ones twice. You have nothing in common with her and I don't ever want to hear you comparing yourself to her again. Understood?"
Devon sucked in her breath, momentarily horrified by the thought of Garth being tied to such a woman. He deserved so much more than that. She put her hands up to frame his hard face. "I didn't realize," Devon whispered. "I thought things hadn't worked out between you and your ex-wife because she just couldn't adapt to your lifestyle. I didn't understand that she'd hurt you so much."
"She made my life hell. I was getting ready to file for divorce when she obligingly walked out. But she didn't hurt me so much as teach me a lesson. This time around I'm choosing a woman who knows how to give a man the important things. A silk shirt and a pair of silly designer jeans don't change you, honey. Underneath, you're still my sweet, honest Devon and you're the wo
man I'm going to marry. You grew up on a farm. You know what the lifestyle involves. You know how to make a commitment and stick to it. When you give your word, you stand by it. I'll be able to count on you no matter what happens. After running free for a year you may need a little time to remember you belong to me, but you'll settle down when I get you back to Hawk Springs."
"And if I don't settle down in Hawk Springs?" Devon prodded desperately.
"You will," he stated calmly and then he wrapped his hand around the nape of her neck and kissed her.
Devon tried to hold back, tried to make the kiss light and casual, a gesture of affection and friendship. But Garth's mouth overwhelmed hers, just as it had that night a year ago. Her lips parted beneath the probing pressure and in another moment he was subjecting her to an intimate invasion. His tongue explored her with an aching need and possessiveness that told its own story. Garth had been waiting a long time. She felt the leashed hunger in him and her own reaction was instantaneous and explosive. When he took her in his arms she couldn't pretend that what she felt for him was anything short of love. She trembled in his hold and knew he was vitally aware of her response.
"My God, it's been a long year, Devon." The words were pulled from somewhere deep inside him.
For a year Devon had tried to forget the effect he had on her, sensing the trap behind the beguiling sensuality. She knew now the effort had been useless. Still, she struggled to reason logically. "Marriage is so... so final, Garth."
"You're still afraid, aren't you?" He lifted his head, studying her with a searching gaze. "A year ago I let you go because I knew you needed some time to yourself, time to be free. You'd been trapped for years by your sense of commitment and love for your brothers. You gave up everything for them, including a social life. I knew you were afraid of marrying me because you were terrified you'd find yourself in another kind of cage. You weren't ready for it. But you've had a year, Devon. That's all the time I can give you. I'd go out of my mind if I had to wait any longer."
"Garth..."
Saxon's Lady Page 3
