by Diana Palmer
“Why did you do that?” she asked huskily.
One dark eyebrow lifted. He didn’t smile. “Why did you let me?” he shot back.
She felt uncomfortable. Despite the effort it took, she moved away from him. He let her go with no show of reluctance. He watched her struggle for composure while he refastened buttons with easy confidence, concealing the effect she had on him. He didn’t even look ruffled.
“The coffee must be done by now,” he pointed out when she seemed unable to move.
She turned stiffly and went to fill cups and put them, along with cream and sugar, on the table.
While he fixed his coffee, she made him two thick ham sandwiches with hands that slowly lost their tremor. She was devastated by a kiss that didn’t seem to have disturbed him at all. She remembered the sudden hardness of his body, but she knew all about anatomy. A man couldn’t help that reaction to anything feminine, it was part of his makeup. It wasn’t even personal.
Somehow, it made things worse to know that. She felt his eyes on her back, and she knew he was measuring her up. She had no idea why he’d kissed her, but she didn’t trust his motives. He didn’t like her. She couldn’t afford to let her guard down. Rey Hart would be hell on a woman who loved him. She knew that instinctively.
By the time she had the sandwiches made, her hands were steady again and she was able to put them on the table with a cool smile.
“I have to tidy up the living room…” she began.
He caught her hand as she started past him. “Sit down, Meredith,” he said quietly.
She sat. He sipped coffee and studied her for a long moment. “I talked to Simon while I was away,” he said. “Your father has been released from jail and placed in an alcohol treatment center. It’s early days yet, but the prognosis is good. It helps that he hasn’t been drinking that heavily for a long time.”
She looked relieved and anxiously waited to hear what else Rey had to say about her father.
He continued. “The therapist wouldn’t reveal any intimate details to Simon, you understand, but he was able to say that your father had been unable to deal with a family tragedy. Now that he’s sober, he’s extremely upset about what he did to you.” He looked grim. “He doesn’t remember doing it, Meredith.”
She averted her eyes to her coffee cup. For something to do, she lifted it and took a sip of blistering black coffee, almost burning her lip. “That’s common in cases of alcohol or drug abuse,” she murmured absently.
He studied her over the rim of his coffee cup. “You won’t be allowed to communicate with him until he’s through the treatment program, but he wanted you to know that he’s desperately sorry for what he did.”
She ground her teeth together. She knew that. Her father wasn’t a bad man. Until he’d started abusing alcohol, he’d been one of the gentlest men alive. But, like all human beings, he had a breaking point which he reached when tragedy erupted into his life.
“He isn’t a bad man,” she said quietly. “Although I know it must have seemed like it.”
“I’ve seen drunks before,” Rey replied. “My brothers have gone on benders a time or two.” He smiled faintly. “In fact, Leo holds the current record for damage at Shea’s Bar, out on the Victoria road. He doesn’t cut loose often, but when he does, people notice.”
“He doesn’t seem the sort of man who would do that,” she remarked, surprised.
“We’re all the sort of men who would do that, given the right provocation,” he told her.
She smiled. “Do you get drunk and wreck bars?” she couldn’t resist asking.
“I don’t drink as a rule,” he said simply. “A glass of wine rarely, nothing stronger. I don’t like alcohol.”
She smiled. “Neither do I.”
He leaned back in his chair and studied her quietly. His hair was still faintly disheveled where her hands had caught in it when he was kissing her, and his lower lip was swollen from the pressure of her mouth. She knew she must look almost as bad. Her hand went unconsciously to her unruly hair.
“Take it down,” he said abruptly.
“Wh…what?”
“Take your hair down,” he said huskily. “I want to see it.”
She’d just gotten her wild heart under control, and now it was galloping all over again from that sultry tone, from the dark, intent caress of his eyes on her face.
“Listen, I work for you,” she began with a tremor in her voice.
He got up from the chair and moved toward her with a lazy, almost arrogant stride. He drew her up in front of him and started pulling out hairpins. Her hair, unbound, fell in soft waves down her back, almost concealing one eye.
“It’s hard to manage when it’s down,” she said self-consciously.
“I love long hair.” He tangled his lean hands in it and coaxed her face up to his. He searched her eyes at point-blank range. “I’ve kissed girls years younger than you who knew even more than I do. Why are you still a novice?”
She swallowed hard. He was making her knees weak again. She couldn’t quite get a whole breath of air into her lungs. Her hands rested on his chest lightly and she felt her heart choking her with its rapid beat as she stared into his narrowed, dark eyes.
“What?” she asked, barely having heard much less understood the question.
His hands were exploring the cool length of her hair with fascination. “You’re not bad-looking, Meredith. Surely you’ve dated.”
“Yes,” she said, disconcerted. “But I’m old-fashioned.”
Both eyebrows went up over a cynical smile. “That’s a pitiful excuse in this day and age.”
“Why?” she asked, her clear grey eyes staring up into his with no thought of subterfuge. “The whole reason for the women’s movement is so that women can have the freedom to do as they please. I’m not promiscuous. Why should I need an excuse?”
He blinked. She made his question sound unreasonable. “I thought sexual liberation was the soul of the movement,” he drawled.
“Being chaste is sexual liberation, in my book,” she replied. “You’d be amazed how many women in my graduating class practiced abstinence.”
“In high school, I gather,” he said absently, tracing the length of her hair with his hands.
She almost corrected him, but then, she really mustn’t destroy the illusions he had about her as a domestic. “Yes. In high school.”
He moved closer to her, his lean body a sensual provocation that made her breath catch. He laughed softly. “Care to test the hypothesis?” he murmured softly.
“I work for you,” she repeated, playing for time.
“So?”
“So it’s not wise to mix business…”
“…with pleasure?” He caught her waist and drew her close. “It’s been a while since I found a woman so desirable,” he whispered, bending to her mouth. “Experience bores me. You,” he bit off against her soft lips, “are a challenge.”
“Thank you, but I don’t want to be,” she whispered, trying to pull away.
He lifted his head and searched her eyes. “No curiosity about the great unknown?” he taunted.
“No desire to treat it as a sophisticated game,” she corrected abruptly.
He hesitated, but only for an instant. His lean hands contracted and then released her. He went back to his chair and sat down. “Touché,” he said with a curious glance. “All right, Meredith, I’ll sit here and eat my sandwiches and we’ll pretend that we’re still strangers physically.”
“Good idea,” she approved. She reached down for her half-empty coffee cup and put it in the sink.
He was halfway through a sandwich when she excused herself and went to fluff up the pillows in the living room and put magazines and books back in their places. Leo had left things strewn about before he’d gone to the Brewsters’. She was glad, because it gave her a valid reason not to sit next to Rey with her emotions in turmoil.
By the time she’d gone back to the kitchen, Rey had finished his s
andwiches and coffee and was coming out the door.
“You’re safe,” he drawled. “I’m going to change and get to work in the study. Where’s Leo?”
“Having supper at the Brewsters’ house,” she told him. “He said he’d be early.”
“That means he’ll be late,” he mused. “Janie Brewster will have found twenty excuses to keep him talking to her father. She’s one determined young lady, but Leo’s equally determined. He doesn’t want ties.”
“Doesn’t that sound familiar?” she murmured wickedly.
His eyes slid up and down her body in a silence that teemed with tension. “I never said I didn’t want ties,” he corrected. “I said I didn’t want marriage. There’s a difference.”
“Don’t look at me,” she said carelessly. “I don’t have time for relationships.”
“Of course. All that cleaning must demand a lot of you,” he said deliberately.
She flushed. He had no idea what her life was like on a daily basis, and she wanted very badly to tell him. But he was so almighty arrogant and condescending that he put her back up. She wasn’t going to tell him a thing. He’d find out soon enough.
She put her hands on her hips and stared at him. “And what’s wrong with being a housekeeper?” she demanded, going on the offensive. “Where would you and your brother be right now if there weren’t women you could hire to bake and clean for you? I guess you’d have to get married then, or learn to cook, wouldn’t you?”
He glared at her. “I could cook if I wanted to.”
“You’re the sort of man who makes a woman wish she didn’t have a culinary skill to her name,” she said icily. “You are so ‘lord of the manor-ish,’ Mr. Hart!”
“It isn’t a manor,” he pointed out. “They have those in England. We call this a ranch.”
She glared at him.
He grinned. “You really do rise to the bait beautifully,” he murmured, and something flashed in his dark eyes. “The sandwiches were good,” he added.
She looked surprised. “Nothing but ham and a homemade sauce,” she faltered.
“You do that a lot with food,” he remarked gently. “I like the way you experiment with dishes. I even like the way you garnish the plates. You make things look appetizing.”
She didn’t realize that he’d even noticed. “I learned that from a dietician,” she said without thinking. “If food is decorative, sometimes it makes up for bulk.”
He smiled quizzically. “You can’t decorate biscuits,” he teased. “But you make really good ones.”
“Thanks.” She smiled back. “I’ll tidy up the kitchen if you’re through.”
“I am. Don’t stay up too late,” he added and his eyes were suddenly bright with mischief. “You need plenty of rest so that you can make biscuits for breakfast!”
“Okay. I’ll get an early night.” She laughed and went on past him to the kitchen.
He stared after her for several long seconds with an expression that he was glad she didn’t see. He liked the taste of her. That hadn’t been wise, kissing her that way. He was going to have to make sure it didn’t happen again. He didn’t need complications.
* * *
Nothing was the same between Meredith and Rey after that day. They were aware of each other. It wasn’t blatant, but she could feel tingling in her spine when Rey was in a room. It was instinctive. Her eyes followed him like puppies, and she flushed wildly when he caught her at it and gave her that amused, worldly glance.
Leo noticed, too, and it worried him that Rey was encouraging Meredith. He knew Rey too well to think he’d had a change of heart toward his bachelor status.
“You’re leading her on,” Leo accused his brother one evening when they were alone in the study with the door closed. “Why?”
Rey gave him a surprised glance. “You make it sound like a crime to flirt with her.”
“In your case, it is,” his brother said flatly. “You’re a rounder. She isn’t.”
Rey shrugged. “She’s not exactly off-limits,” he told his brother. “Not at her age.”
“And what do you have in mind? Seduction?” Leo persisted irritably. “She’s already been damaged enough by what happened with her father. The bruises are barely healed, and the mental scars are still there. Don’t play games with her.”
“Aren’t you self-righteous all of a sudden?” Rey shot back angrily. “You’ve been stringing Janie Brewster along for weeks, and we both know you don’t have any intention in hell of getting serious about her. All you want is first chance at that damned seed bull they’re thinking of selling! Does she know?” he added maliciously.
Leo’s eyes began to glitter. “Janie is a child,” he said furiously. “I pick at her, and not because of any damned bull. I’m certainly not hell-bent on seduction!”
“She’s not a child,” Rey countered. “You’re leading her down a blind alley, when you know full well she’s in love with you.”
Leo looked shocked. “She’s not in love with me! Maybe she’s got a crush. That’s all!”
“You don’t see the way she looks at you, do you?” Rey replied solemnly.
Leo cleared his throat. “We’re talking about Meredith,” he said firmly.
Rey’s eyes narrowed. “Meredith is an adult.”
“And she works for us,” Leo went on relentlessly. “I’m not going to stand by and let you make an amusement of her.”
“Jealous?” his brother taunted.
Leo was very still. “Is that the draw?” he asked softly. “Are we competing for a woman again?”
Rey’s eyes flashed. “I would never have known about Carlie if you hadn’t started propositioning her in front of me. Do you think I can forget that?”
“I keep hoping you will someday. She would have taken you for the ride of your life,” Leo said quietly. “You’re my brother. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.”
Rey turned away with a muttered curse. Leo was right; he had saved him from even worse heartache, but the memory was still raw enough to hurt.
“Don’t try to take it out on Meredith,” Leo told him firmly. “She’s had enough tragedy. Let her do her job.”
Rey glanced at him over his shoulder. “I would, if she’d remember why she’s here,” he said venomously. “It’s not my fault that every time I turn around, she’s drooling over me! A saint could be tempted by a woman whose eyes worship him like that. I’m only human!”
“Don’t raise your voice,” Leo cautioned.
“Why? Do you think she’s standing outside the door eavesdropping?” Rey drawled sarcastically. “What if she did hear me? It’s the truth. She wants me. A blind man could see it.”
“That’s no reason to take advantage of her. She’s not like your usual women.”
“No, she’s not. She has no ambition, no intellect. Besides that, she’s so inexperienced, it’s unreal. I never thought kissing a woman could be boring, until she came along,” Rey added coldly, trying not to let Leo see how attracted he was to their housekeeper. “She’s so naive, it’s nauseating.”
Outside the door, Meredith stood poised like a statue with a cup of coffee in a saucer shaking in her hands. She’d come to offer it to Rey, and overheard words that had never been meant for her ears. She fought tears as she turned around and went quickly and silently back down the hall to the kitchen.
Hearts couldn’t really break, she told herself firmly, as she dabbed at the tears with a paper towel. She was just feeling the aftereffects of her devastating experience at home. It wasn’t as if she was really drooling over Rey Hart.
She felt like sinking through the floor when she realized that she did spend an inordinate amount of time staring at him. He was handsome, sensuous, attractive. She liked looking at him. And maybe she was infatuated, a little. That didn’t give him the right to say such horrible things about her.
If she hadn’t been listening, she’d never have known about them in the first place. She’d have gone right ahead, mooning over h
im and having him know it and be amused by it. Her pride felt tattered. She’d never been one to wear her heart on her sleeve, but Rey had kissed her as if he enjoyed it, and she’d built dreams on those kisses. She realized now how truly naive it had been. The first man who paid her any attention in years, and she fell head over heels for him. Seen in that context, perhaps it wasn’t surprising after all. She’d heard Leo accuse him of being a rounder, and she had to admit that his experience ran rings around hers. Apparently he was accustomed to playing sensual games with women. That was all those devastating kisses that had brought her to her knees had meant to him—just a game. And she’d taken it seriously!
Well, she told herself firmly, he needn’t worry that she’d throw herself at his feet again. From now on, she was going to be the perfect employee, polite and courteous and eager to please—but she’d never stare at him longingly again. Thank God she’d overheard what he said to Leo. It had spared her a terrible humiliation. A little hurt now was far better than being wrung out emotionally down the road because she’d been ignorant of the facts. Wasn’t she herself always telling people that the truth, however brutal, was always best in the long run? It was time to take her own advice.
* * *
When Rey and Leo came in to breakfast the next morning, she put bacon and eggs and biscuits on the table with a cool, professional smile.
Rey was oddly subdued. He didn’t give her the arrogant scrutiny that had become force of habit in recent days. In fact, he didn’t look at her at all. Leo kept up a pleasant conversation about the day’s chores. They were moving some sick cattle into a pasture near the house so the vet could examine them, and stock was being shifted into closer quarters as well, within easier reach of the hay barn.
“I thought you had those big round bales of hay?” Meredith asked curiously.
