"Make light of it if you want," Matt said, "but you can't deny there's something drawing us together."
"I can deny it, and I do," Ruth replied. "You have a knack for catching me off guard, just as you undoubtedly have with other women around here."
Matt's face became stony, and he said, in a sober voice, "From the day my wife walked out there have been no women."
The earnest way he’d said the words almost had Ruth believing it was true. Then she dismissed that thought, and said, "Lorinda, remember?"
"Women like Lorinda belong to everyone," Matt replied. "But that’s not what I meant."
"I know what you meant," Ruth said, "but why haven't you remarried? I’d think you would, if only to provide a mother for Annie."
"Annie is precisely the reason I haven't married, and won't, at least not until she’s grown," Matt replied. "She's been abandoned by two mothers already. I won't risk her losing a third."
I did not abandon my child! Someone stole her from me! Ruth had to catch herself from yelling. Still, she needed to learn more about the woman Matt believed had given birth to Annie. More importantly, she needed to know what Matt would do, should such a woman come back into their lives. "Do you know anything about Annie's biological mother?" she asked.
Matt snapped the stalk between his fingers and tossed the flowers aside. "Enough to know if she ever shows up wanting Annie back she'll have hell to pay from me."
Ruth licked her dry lips. "Don't you ever worry that it could happen? There have been cases of mothers, who've changed their minds, actually getting their children back."
Matt's expression darkened. "It doesn't happen very often."
"But, it does happen."
"No one’s going to take Annie from me," Matt said in a firm voice. "Bret specializes in child custody cases and he’s never lost one yet. But if it came to my being forced to give up Annie, I'd pull the cleverest disappearing act in history. Annie and I could live well anywhere in the world."
Ruth digested Matt's words. It was exactly what she'd do if the situation were reversed. Yet, she needed to tread carefully with her questions if she didn't want to raise Matt's suspicions.
Trying to maintain an air of casualness, she said, "How would you manage financially?"
"I have money outside the U.S.," Matt said. "It wouldn't be a problem. Any more questions?" His tone, and the look on his face, were clearly confrontational.
"Well... no," Ruth replied, while toying with the strap of her bikini, wanting to redirect the conversation, and Matt's mind, to safer territory...
Matt's eyes dropped to where her hand was, and he said, "Good. Let's swim."
Ruth felt a sense of relief with the change of subject. But then, Matt had just broached a subject that made her just as edgy. Swimming with him. "Then I assume you’re wearing a suit under your jeans?" Her eyes dropped, lingered a moment and shot up to meet his heated gaze.
Matt's mouth curved in an impious smile. "You already know the answer to that."
Ruth pursed her lips. "If you intend to go skinny dipping in front of me, forget it."
Matt's eyes roamed over her in a slow, thorough perusal, leaving her feeling tingly all over. "Not in front of you, sweetheart, with you."
Heat rushed up Ruth's face. "You already know my position on that."
Matt's eyed the skimpy top. "How is what you're wearing different from going skinny dipping? There’s more of you coming out of it than there is packed inside."
Impulsively Ruth glanced down and saw how much of her was exposed above the top, and how clearly the puckered nubs pressed against the fabric. "Like I told you, I didn’t expect to wear this in front of anyone but Annie, and certainly not in front of you."
"Why? Because you might see in my eyes the reflection of your own needs."
"That’s absurd," Ruth said. "I feel nothing but annoyance with your insinuations."
"Not insinuations, facts." Matt held the tips of his fingers against her wrist and looked into her eyes. "Your pulse is racing a mile a minute, your lips are parted, and you’re having trouble breathing. Definite signs of pent-up passion."
Matt's words heightened every reaction he'd just described, and to Ruth's dismay, a shiver coursed through her, making her body quiver. Catching his knowing look, she said, "I'm cold."
"You're aroused."
"Read into it whatever you want."
"I'm afraid you're an open book." Matt placed his hand on the curve of her neck where it met her shoulder and whispered into her ear, "Your body's primed for some serious attention." He kissed her ear, and her jaw, and her lips. Then he broke the kiss and his finger moved slowly down her neck. "Besides, you'll never convince me a woman who's willing to wear a couple of skimpy patches of material here—" his finger moved a breath away from a puckered tip "—and little more than a scrap there—" he pointed to the juncture of her thighs "—is too inhibited to swim in the raw."
Determined to set things straight, Ruth said, "You haven’t heard a word I’ve said. Like I told you before, this isn’t the kind of suit I normally wear. Annie picked it out because it looked like the one the Beach Barbie I gave her was wearing, and I didn't want to disappoint her."
"Well, since you wore it, it would be a shame not to christen it." Matt took her by the hand and said, "Come swim with me."
Ruth pulled her hand from his, and replied, "Hell will freeze over first."
"Honey, as long as you're wearing this—" Matt snapped the strap to her bikini top "—nothing gonna freeze over."
Irritated, Ruth glared at him, and said, "You can save the honeys and all your other hollow endearments and specious compliments for your Lorindas."
"Specious compliments? What have I said that doesn't ring true?"
Ruth bit her trembling lip. "All of it. Obviously you couldn’t possibly consider a flat chested old maid who sleeps with her legs crossed as being too terribly appealing!"
Matt looked at her with a start. "Where did you hear that?"
"From your six-year-old daughter," Ruth replied, "but she was only repeating what she heard you tell Seth. After that, I’m sure you and Seth had a roaring good laugh."
"That was early on," Matt said, "when you still looked like Marian the Librarian. But regardless of what I said, it’s not true." His gaze retraced its earlier path, following a meandering course over her chest. "You have a body that would affect any red-blooded male. It's sure having a dramatic effect on me—"
He stopped short, and the gleam she'd seen in his eyes moments before vanished, replaced by bewilderment. For a few moments he stared at her stomach, saying nothing. Then he stated, "You've had a child."
Ruth froze. But when she finally found her voice, all she could think to say was, "How did you know"
"Stretch marks." With the tip of his finger, Matt traced one of several faint white lines crossing her stomach just above her bikini bottom.
Ruth didn't look at him, only nodded, miserably.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I couldn't. It's too hard to talk about."
Matt curved a finger beneath her chin and raised her head until her eyes met his, and said, "Is that what you've kept bottled up inside, honey? The loss of a child?"
Tears burned behind Ruth's eyes and everything in her line of vision blurred. She nodded, her breath catching with the sudden onslaught of tears. The tears were real. The implication behind them were a lie. Matt assumed her child had died, and she'd given him no reason to believe otherwise. But then, how could she be sure Beth wasn't dead? With that thought, she started shaking, sobs racking her body and making it jerk uncontrollably.
Matt took her in his arms. "Ruth, honey, I'm so sorry. But at least I understand."
Ruth stiffened. "No... No you don't. It leaves a hole right here—" she jabbed a finger at her heart "—that never goes away. It's there when you go to bed at night... and it's there when you wake up in the morning... and... it... never... ever... goes... away."
Mat
t gathered her against him and stroked her hair. "How long ago?"
"Fo... four... yea... years," Ruth stammered, her heart feeling as if it were being squeezed in a vise as memories surfaced, memories of the warm weight of her newborn baby in her arms, and memories of Beth's first smile, and her first words, and her first toddling steps, and of cuddling her at bedtime and tucking her into her safe little world…
"How old was your child?"
Ruth sucked in a ragged breath, and when she could at last speak, she said in a wavering voice, "She'd just turned two." At once, she realized she'd given Matt two pieces to a puzzle he might ultimately put together. Her child's sex, and her age. But his question caught her off guard and her answer just slipped out.
"Then your daughter would have been about Annie's age now," he honed in.
Not would have been, she wanted to scream. Is. Beth is Annie's age. Beth is Annie! The ethereal cord between mother and child still held fast… had never been severed. Which was why, in her heart, Ruth knew Beth was still alive. Her mind adrift like a rudderless boat while she tried to grasp for words that wouldn't come, she finally said, "Please don't ask me anything else. I just can't talk about it right now."
Taking her by the shoulders, Matt held her so she was forced to look at him, and said, "Honey, if you keep holding it inside you'll never come to terms with it."
"Come to terms? There's no way of coming to terms with such a terrible thing?" She looked into eyes so sincere, she almost poured out her heart. Instead, she shook her head and said, "I just can't talk about it."
"Yes you can," Matt said. "Talk to me, Ruth. How did it happen? How did you lose your daughter?"
At once, Ruth felt everything unraveling. She couldn’t tell all now, not when she was so close to learning the truth. Abruptly, she pushed out of Matt's arms, yanked off her glasses, and said, "Maybe a swim would be nice. Without my glasses you’ll just be a blur so it won’t matter in the least if you’re naked as a jaybird." That said, she jumped up and headed for the water.
Matt stared after her. The sight of her barely-covered backside sashaying back and forth was almost his undoing. Did she know how provocatively her fanny moved when she walked? How revealing the skimpy suit was?
At the edge of the swimming hole, she turned and smiled over her shoulder. A come-on if he'd ever seen one. He also realized all signs of grief had vanished. She expected him to follow, in the raw, and join her in the water. And no right minded female teased a hot-blooded male the way she was doing, without expecting a hot and heavy response from him. And Lord knew, he was ready to give it to her. Stripping off his clothes, he raced after her...
CHAPTER 8
Matt caught up with Ruth as she was dashing into the water. Grabbing her around the waist, he scooped her up into his arms. "Ugh. Me Tarzan. You Jane," he said, while heaving her over his shoulder, one hand on her thigh, the other clasping her fanny.
All Ruth could see from her vantage point was the ground racing beneath her and Matt’s naked backside. It was insane. It was ludicrous. It was wild and basic and primitive, Matt charging through the water naked as the day he was born, her slung over his shoulder like booty from a tribal raid. And she was on the verge of giving herself to a man she’d known only three weeks. A man who brought out her primal instincts and drove her to a recklessness she’d never known. Her mind whirled between struggling from his grasp and rushing out of the water, or begging him to stop the need that was building so fast she felt as if she were about to explode.
Waist deep in the swimming hole, Matt tossed her into the water. The abrupt release of his arms from around her and the impact of the water on her body brought her back to reality.
And the reality was, she was also about to give herself to the man who might have played a part in the abduction of her daughter.
At last regaining control of her reeling senses, she started racing out of the water.
Matt caught up with her, grabbing her around the waist. "Oh, no you don’t," he said, playfully. "You’re not getting away from old Tarzan."
"Please let me go," Ruth cried, struggling against his hold. "I don’t want this."
Matt took her by the arms, forcing her to look at him. Fixing her with a steely gaze, he said in a sober voice, "What do you mean, you don’t want this? There was nothing subtle about the signals you were sending me."
"I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me," Ruth said. "But I can’t do this. I’m just not into recreational sex."
Matt's anger died as suddenly as it had flared, and his brows drew in a perplexed frown. "Is that all you think this is, Ruth? Recreational sex?"
"What else can it be? We barely know each other."
"Still, I feel something deep for you, honey, and I think you feel something for me too. And it’s not simply a desire for sex." Matt peered into her eyes, "I want you more than I've ever wanted any woman, but I don’t want you because you have a beautiful body. I want you because you’re beautiful inside. I see it in the loving way you handle Annie, even when she’s being a pain in the butt. And I admire your spunk with my men and your steadfast determination to ride a horse, and even your resolve to make a lady out of Annie. It’s not recreational sex I want, Ruth. It’s you. And that’s the plain honest truth."
Ruth felt the familiar lump rising in her throat and saw her own deep yearning reflected in Matt's eyes, and for an instant, life held promise. But the fact was, there were no promises, only unanswered questions. "Wanting me is not enough," she said. "Besides, how can I expect to instill morals in Annie if I’m unable to maintain them for myself?"
"This has nothing to do with Annie," Matt said, looking steadily at her. "It has to do with a warm, caring, passionate woman, and a fully aroused man wanting to express their desires in the way God intended."
Ruth saw the extraordinary promise of Matt's eyes. She was being consumed by an elemental need so strong she almost didn't have the power or the desire to stop him. But the fact was, she must stop him. Holding his steady gaze, she replied, "God intended a man and a woman to express their desires under the covenant of marriage."
Matt stared at her for a few moments, as if trying to digest what she’d just said. Then his fingers tightened on her arms, and he said, "Do you have any idea what you’re asking of me right now, how much self-control it’s taking to keep from stripping that next-to-nothing suit off you and letting nature take its course? And there’s no doubt in my mind, Ruth, nature would take its course if you shed that suit. Do you deny it?"
Ruth shook her head. "No, but please don’t try to get me to do something I’ll regret."
It was some moments before Matt sighed, kissed her lightly, and said, "Okay, honey. We’ll have it your way, this time." Taking her by the hand, he led her up the low embankment, but when he released her hand, she was filled with a sense of loss.
Love, she realized, was an unwelcome invader.
Matt reached for his briefs and pulled them on over his wet legs, followed by his jeans. As he stood before Ruth, water rolled down his sun-bronzed, muscular chest, leaving it glistening in the sun. The sight of his wet jeans molded to his aroused male body made her breath catch, and it was all she could do to keep from saying, ‘Yes, I’ll let you love me the way God intended...’
Instead, when he offered his hand she walked into his arms and her hands went around his waist. He drew her to him and gave her a long, lingering kiss and held her tight. "Oh, Ruthie," he whispered against the top of her head, "you don’t know what you do to me." He bent to kiss her, and she curved her arms around his neck and kissed him back. It was a sweet kiss, but she knew he was holding back, but as the kiss held, the sound of a truck approaching from a distance caught her attention. She pushed out of Matt's arms and grabbed the towel off the ground and looked off in the distance to where a truck was moving toward them over the uneven ground, sending a fantail of dust behind it.
Matt looked at the approaching truck in alarm. "It must be pretty damn important for
Deke to be four-wheeling it here," he said.
A few minutes later, Deke pulled the truck to a dust-billowing halt. "You’d better come right away," he said, in an excited voice. "Jody’s here and she wants to take Annie."
Matt looked at Deke, alarmed. "Where is Annie now?"
"In the barn with the pups."
"Ride my horse back and keep her in the barn until I get there," Matt said.
"You’ve got it." Deke jumped out of the truck, launched himself onto Matt's horse, and kicked him into a gallop.
Matt grabbed his shirt, rushed over to where Ruth’s clothes lay in a heap, snatched them up, along with the backpack, and said, "Come on. I don’t want that bitch anywhere near Annie." He heaved the pack and clothes into the bed of the truck, and moments later, they were bouncing and lurching over the uneven ground toward the ranch.
Matt’s jaw set in a hard line, brows drawn in an edgy frown, he said, "If she thinks she can shove her way back into Annie’s life she’ll soon learn it’ll be over my cold dead body." It was a statement, not an opening for conversation or questions, and seeing the rigid look on Matt’s face, Ruth remained silent.
Matt navigated the truck over uneven ground to where a roughly-maintained ranch road was cut into the gently-sloping west side of the mesa, curving its way to the valley below, and a few minutes later they dipped onto a ranch road leading to the compound. As they approached the house, Ruth noted the strikingly beautiful woman leaning against an enormous, private, white and silver tour bus with the words JODY AND THE WRANGLERS scrolled across the side like a silvery comet streaking, and leaving a trail of stars behind. She wore a plain white jacket and tight white pants tucked into tall white boots. The jacket gaped open, revealing a white, western-cut shirt, stretched tight by oversized breasts. Standing beside her, a tall, lean, ruggedly good-looking man in western garb, struck a match and held it to a cigarette, and just off to the side of the bus, a chauffeur stood polishing a side mirror.
Justified Deception (Prequel: Dancing Moon Ranch Series) Page 11
