by Linda Howard
He didn’t answer, merely opened the door to her bedroom and tossed the bags inside with fine disregard for their safety. Then he wrapped his long fingers around her delicate wrist and pulled her after him down the hallway to his room. Even when he was tired she was no match for his strength, so she didn’t waste any energy in trying to jerk away. He opened the door and ushered her into his bedroom, which was in almost total darkness because the last of the feeble daylight had gone. Without turning on the light he closed the door and reached for her, folding her against him and kissing her with an angry hunger that belied his obvious weariness.
Cathryn put her arms around his waist and kissed him in return, almost weeping with the knowledge that she didn’t dare stay with him. Her senses were swamped by him, by the taste of his mouth, the feel of his hard body against her, the damp smell of his skin and hair and clothing. He released her and snapped on the overhead light, moving away as he spoke.
“I’m not taking you to Houston,” he said grimly.
“Of course not. You’re too tired,” she said with outward calm. “But Lewis can—”
“No, Lewis can’t. No one will take you to Houston if they want to keep working on the Bar D,” he snapped. “I made that clear to all of them. Damn it, Cat, that very first day, when I picked you up, you told me you’d stay!” He began to unbutton his shirt, shrugging it away from his powerful shoulders and tossing it aside.
Cathryn sat down on the bed and clasped her fingers tightly together as she fought for control. At last she said, “I only said maybe I’d stay. And don’t bother with threatening me or any of the hands, because you know I can leave tomorrow, if not tonight.”
He nodded his head. “Maybe, if Monica comes back tonight. But she’s afraid to drive at night, and since she’s not here by now I don’t expect her back until tomorrow. Then you’ll have to get to the station wagon before I put it out of commission.”
Control was forgotten and she leaped to her feet, her eyes narrowing with temper. “I won’t be kept here like a prisoner!” she shouted.
“I don’t want it that way either!” he yelled back, rounding on her. “But I told you that I won’t let you run away from me again, and I meant it. Hell, woman, didn’t last night tell you anything?”
“It told me it’s been a while since you had a woman!” she flared.
“Don’t kid yourself!”
Silence fell and Cathryn admitted uneasily that he could have a woman whenever he wanted one—a particularly unpalatable thought. When she said nothing else he unfastened his belt and jeans and pushed them down, stripping off his socks in the same movement and stepping away from the pile of clothing, as unconcerned about his nudity as if she hadn’t been in the room. But then, weren’t they as familiar with each other as a man and woman could be? Cathryn eyed the tall, vital body with secret hunger, then turned her gaze away before he could read the expression in her eyes.
He gathered up clean clothing and tossed it into her arms. She caught it automatically, holding his clothes to her. After a few moments he muttered, “Give it a chance, Cat. Stay here. Call your boss tomorrow and tell him that you quit.”
“I can’t do that,” she said quietly.
He erupted again. “Damn it, why not? What’s stopping you?”
“You are.”
He closed his eyes and she could have sworn that he was snarling under his breath. An unwanted smile tried to break over her lips, but she subdued it. How had Wanda described him? Still dangerous but controlled? It was a safe bet that no one knew as well as she did just how volcanic Rule really was. Finally he opened his eyes and glared at her, the dark irises gleaming with angry frustration. “Ricky got to you. You believe her.”
“No!” she burst out, unable to control her reaction. He didn’t understand and she couldn’t tell him, couldn’t say that she was afraid to trust him on such an intimate level. He was asking for more than just sex...and she didn’t feel capable of dealing with either scenario. She was afraid of him, afraid of how he could hurt her if she let her guard down. Rule could destroy her, because he could get closer to her than anyone else ever had or would.
“Then what?” he roared. “Tell me! Tell me what I have to do to get you to stay here! You’ve put it all on my shoulders, so tell me exactly what you want me to do.”
Cathryn considered him, standing there furious and naked and so magnetically masculine that she wanted to drop the clothing that she held to her breast and run to him, wrap her arms around him and bury her face in the curly dark hair that decorated his muscular chest. How much she wanted to stay! This was her home, and she wanted to be here. Yet she couldn’t handle Rule...unless she had his cooperation. An idea glimmered, and she didn’t stop to consider it. She simply blurted out, “No sex.”
He looked staggered, as if she had suggested that he had to give up breathing. Then he swore aloud, scowling at her. “Do you really think that’s possible?”
“It will have to be,” she assured him. “At least until I decide if...if...”
“If?” he prodded.
“If I can stay permanently,” she finished, thinking swiftly that there had to be some way she could maneuver him into promising to behave himself. “I’m not looking for an affair. I’m not a casual woman and I never have been.”
“We can’t be ‘just friends,’” he said savagely. “I want you, and I’ve never been good at self-denial. It was bad enough when you were married, but now it’ll be damned near impossible. When are you going to face up to what the real situation is?”
Cathryn ignored him, determined to press her point. She sensed that he was off-balance, and it was such an unusual circumstance that she was loath to let the opportunity pass. “I’m not asking for a vow of celibacy from you,” she retorted. “Only that you leave me alone until I’ve decided.” Even as she said the words she felt furious at the mere thought that he would go to another woman. Just let him dare!
His jaw was like a chunk of granite. “And if you decide to stay?”
Her dark eyes went wide as she realized what such a decision would mean. If she stayed she would be Rule Jackson’s woman. She wouldn’t be able to hold him off forever with the shield that she was “trying to decide.” He would want a definite answer before long, and now she fully understood that what she had conceived as a delaying tactic had become a trap. She could stay, or she could go, but if she stayed she would be his. She looked at him, standing there as naked and powerful as some ancient god, and pain twisted her insides. Could she really leave him?
She lifted her chin and answered him evenly, using all her woman’s courage in the effort. “If I stay, then I accept your terms.”
He didn’t relax. “I want you to call tomorrow and quit your job.”
“But if I decide to leave—”
“You don’t need a job. This ranch can support you.”
“I don’t want to bleed the ranch.”
“Damn it, Cat, I said I’ll support you!” he snarled. “Just leave it alone for now. Will you quit the job or not?”
“Be reasonable—” she began to plead, knowing that it was a hopeless request. He cut her short with a slashing movement of his hand.
“Quit...the...job,” he ordered from between clenched teeth. “That’s the deal. You’ll stay if I keep my hands to myself. All right, I’ll go along with that if you’ll quit your job. We both have to give in.”
She saw his muscles quiver and knew that if she said no, his control would be gone. Rule had compromised his position and he would go no further. Either she quit her job or he would keep her on the ranch by any means at his disposal. It seemed to her that she could be either a willing prisoner or an unwilling one, but she gave in on the job in order to keep her advantage in other areas. “All right. I’ll quit the job.” Even as she promised, she felt lost, as if she had severed her last tie to Chicago and her life with David, as if she had turned her back on his memory.
He sighed and ran his hand roughly through hi
s dark hair. “Lorna’s holding dinner,” he muttered, taking his clothes from her. “I’ll take a fast shower and be right down.”
As he opened the door Cathryn leaped across the room and slammed it shut, jerking it out of his hand. He gave her a startled look, and she hissed at him, “You’re naked!”
He gave her a tired half smile. “I know. I usually shower this way.”
“But someone will see you!”
“Honey, Monica isn’t here, Lorna is downstairs, and Ricky hasn’t come in from the stables yet. You’re the only one who can see me, and I don’t have anything to hide from you, do I?” The smile changed from tired to mocking as he opened the door again and sauntered down the hall. Cathryn followed him, so exasperated that she wanted to punch him, but she wasn’t that foolish.
After dinner Rule promptly went to bed and Cathryn found herself alone with Ricky, a far from comfortable companion. First she turned on the television and flipped from one channel to the next; then she turned the set off and flopped down on the couch. Cathryn did her best to continue reading the article she had started, but she was completely unbalanced when Ricky said nastily, “Shouldn’t you go tuck him in?”
Cathryn jumped, then looked away as she felt her face heat up. “Who?” she managed to say, but her voice wasn’t quite steady.
Ricky smiled and stretched her legs, crossing them at the ankle. “Who?” she mimicked sweetly. “It’s hard to believe you’re really that dumb. Do you think I don’t know where he slept last night? But you’ve got to give Rule credit. When he wants something, he goes after it. He wants this ranch and he’s using you to get it, but he’s so great in bed that you can’t see beyond that, can you?”
“I see a lot of things, including your jealousy,” Cathryn snapped. Anger had leaped to life in her, and she wasn’t about to deny that Rule had made love to her, if that was what Ricky was trying to provoke her into saying.
Ricky laughed. “That’s right, keep your head in the clouds. You haven’t been able to think straight since he gave you your first taste of sex when you were seventeen. Did you think I didn’t know? I rode up in time to see him help you put your clothes back on. You’ve been running scared since then; but now you’re old enough that you’re not scared, and you’ve been remembering, haven’t you? Lord, Cathryn, he’s got a reputation that puts those stud horses of his to shame. Doesn’t it bother you to be just one on a long list?”
Eyeing her narrowly, Cathryn said, “I can’t decide if you hate him or if you’re jealous because he doesn’t pay any attention to you.”
To Cathryn’s surprise, color flooded hotly into Ricky’s cheeks, and this time it was the other woman who looked away. After a moment Ricky said thickly, “Don’t believe me, I don’t care. Let him use you the way he’s used Mother all these years. Just remember, nothing and no one is as important to him as this ranch, and he’ll do whatever he has to do to keep it. Ask him,” she dared, jeering. “See if you can get him to talk about it. Ask him what Vietnam did to him and why he holds on to the ranch with a death grip. Ask him about the nightmares, why he spends some nights just walking around the ranch.”
Cathryn was stunned. She hadn’t thought that he was still troubled by memories of the war. Ricky laughed again, regaining her composure. “You don’t know him at all! You’ve been away for years. You don’t know anything about what went on here while you were gone. Be a fool. It doesn’t matter to me!” She got up and left the room, and Cathryn heard her running up the stairs.
She sat there, disturbed by the things Ricky had said. She had thought them herself, in part, wondering what motivated Rule. She thought wearily that she would probably go crazy wondering what went on in Rule’s mind. Did he want her for herself or because of the ranch? And even if she asked him straight out, could she believe what he told her? She could only make up her mind for herself, using her instincts. At least she had bought time for herself, time free of the sensual pressure he could so easily bring to bear. All she had to do was not let Ricky goad her into some reckless action.
* * *
Cathryn woke before dawn and lay awake, unable to sleep again, and soon rosy fingers began piercing through the purple patches of cloud that still remained from the day before. The house began to resound with the familiar, comforting sounds of Lorna preparing breakfast, and soon she heard Rule’s heart-stopping tread as he walked past her door and went down the stairs. She threw the sheet back and hurriedly dressed in jeans and an emerald-green knit pullover shirt, then ran barefoot down the stairs. For reasons that she didn’t want to examine too closely, she needed to see Rule before he left the house for the day, just to see him...to make certain that he didn’t look as tired as he had the day before.
He was sprawled at the kitchen table with a steaming cup of coffee before him when she entered, and both he and Lorna looked up in surprise. “I thought I’d have an early breakfast,” she said serenely, moving to set herself a place at the table and pour a cup of coffee.
After that initial look of surprise, Lorna returned placidly to her cooking. “Eggs or waffles?” she asked.
“One egg, scrambled,” said Cathryn as she checked the big homemade biscuits in the oven. They were a perfect golden brown and she took them out, transferring them deftly to a napkin-lined straw basket and setting the fragrant mount in front of Rule. While Lorna was finishing the scrambled eggs, Cathryn also transferred the plate of bacon and sausages to the table and slipped into a chair beside Rule, taking advantage of Lorna’s turned back to lean over and plant a quick kiss under his ear. She couldn’t have said why she did that, either, but the effect was pleasing. Rule shuddered wildly and Cathryn grinned, absurdly pleased that he was so ticklish in that particular spot. It made him seem so much more vulnerable...and, as he had said, he didn’t have anything to hide from her.
The fuming dark glance he turned on her promised retribution, but the look lingered on her smiling face and slowly the threat faded from his expression.
Lorna set their plates before them and took her own place across the table. Conversation was nonexistent for a few minutes as they went through their own ritual of salting and peppering and arranging their food exactly as they preferred. Then Lorna asked a question about the sale, and though Rule’s replies were characteristically brief, Cathryn managed to learn that he had scheduled a horse sale in three weeks and that it was turning out to be a large event. Over the years he had developed a solid reputation as a horsebreeder and more people were coming to the sale than he had originally anticipated. Lorna was beaming with pride—a pride that Rule didn’t allow himself to show.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” asked Cathryn. “Groom the horses, clean out the stables, whatever?”
“Have you made that phone call yet?” Rule growled.
“No. The switchboard doesn’t open until nine.” She smiled at him with mock sweetness, intent on fully enjoying her opportunity to have him under control.
Lorna looked confused, and Cathryn explained, “I’m quitting my job and staying here, at least for the time being. I haven’t made a permanent decision yet.” She tacked that last on for Rule’s benefit, just in case he was thinking he had already won the war.
“My, that’ll be nice, having you in the house for good,” said Lorna.
After breakfast Cathryn realized that Rule hadn’t answered her question about helping and she followed him outside, stepping on his heels like a determined little bulldog and almost tripping him. He turned on her and planted his fists on his hips, every inch the dominating male. “Well?” he barked.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she repeated patiently, planting her own fists on her hips in duplication of his stance and tilting her jaw at him.
For a moment he looked as if he were going to explode with frustration; then the iron control she usually saw on his face returned and he even gave her a crooked smile. “Yes, there is. After you make that phone call, take the truck into town and pick up our order of feed su
pplements. And we’ll need more fencing. Foster didn’t get enough yesterday.” He told her how much fencing to get and dug into his pocket for the keys to his pickup.
As she took the keys, he cupped her chin in his hand and turned her face up to his. “I’m relying on you to be here when I get back,” he said, a hint of warning in his voice.
Irritated that he didn’t trust her, Cathryn glared at him. “I know. I will be,” she replied stiffly. “I’m not a liar.”
He nodded and released her chin. Without another word he walked away, and she watched his tall form for a minute before she returned to the house, vaguely irritated that he hadn’t even kissed her. That was what she had wanted; it was silly now to be disappointed that he was following her orders. Taking that as an indication of how deeply she had already fallen under his spell, she firmly pushed aside her disappointment.
Promptly at nine she sat down before the phone and chewed on her lips, uncertain in the face of the step she was taking. In a way Rule was asking her to choose between himself and David—an unfair choice, as David was dead. And he had been a very special person. Cathryn knew that a part of her devotion would always be David’s...but he was gone, and Rule was very much alive. He was asking her to leave the home that she had shared with her husband, to leave behind everything. Yet she had promised, and if she broke that promise she would have to leave the ranch today, before Rule returned. She couldn’t do that. Not now, not after that night spent in his arms. She had to know for certain how she felt—and how he felt—or she would regret it for the rest of her life. Picking up the receiver, she dialed.
Ten minutes later she was unemployed. Now that she had done it she was almost in a panic. It wasn’t money; she really had no money worries. While talking to her supervisor she had suddenly had the thought that only people in love made such sacrifices. She didn’t want to love Rule Jackson, didn’t want to let herself get that vulnerable until she was certain in her own mind that she could trust him. She didn’t think that Rule had ever been involved with Monica, despite Ricky’s tales to the contrary. There was just no sense of intimacy between Rule and Monica, nothing in their behavior that would indicate even a past relationship. That was obviously pure mischief making on Ricky’s part, something that she excelled in.
