by Susan Fox
"Is Curtis in bed?" he asked as he turned a kitchen chair backward and sat astride it, his thickly muscled forearms resting on the chair back as he watched the game that was clearly in its last moments.
"Yep." Shorty was too intent on the letters in his rack to say more.
Veronica was trying to summon at least a pretense of interest in the game she'd already lost, but the steady look Cole was giving her made it hard to concentrate. Poor Shorty. Her preoccupation hadn't made the game much of a challenge for him.
"How did that talk with your mother go, Ronnie?"
Fresh color flooded Veronica's cheeks. She glanced in Cole's direction and encountered the same knowing glimmer in his eyes that had mocked her response to him that afternoon.
"Just as you planned it to," she answered, a trace of irritation in her soft reply as she pointlessly rearranged the letters in her rack.
Shorty chuckled as he laid out his remaining letters, again using a word she'd just put on the board to add another thirty points to his score. And just when Veronica thought the old cowhand had been concentrating too hard on the game to pay attention to the veiled conversation between her and Cole, she saw him give them both a sly wink.
Veronica couldn't see any way to use her last three letters to tie Shorty's score, much less win the game. Besides, now that Cole was home, she was especially eager to end the game.
"You win again," she conceded good-naturedly, then helped Shorty clear the board and put the game away. Shorty stood up, stretched, then walked to the coat tree for his hat before he turned back toward Veronica.
"Don't forget," he cautioned, pointing at her just as she was rising from her chair. "Playin' at Scrabble is a lot like what some say about playin' at cards."
Veronica was focused so intently on escaping Cole's presence that Shorty's words didn't make much sense at first.
"What?"
"You think on it," he advised with a wink. "It'll come to you in a second." With that, the old man was out the porch door, whistling a merry tune.
"What he means is 'Lucky at cards, unlucky in love,'" Cole recounted, then chuckled. Veronica's gaze continued to shy from his.
"I don't put a lot of faith in an old saw," she told him as she grasped her crutches and turned to leave the kitchen.
"What about the one, 'The way to a man's heart is through his stomach'?" Cole rose from his chair and turned it around to slide it under the table. Veronica forced a laugh to cover her inner reaction to that particular saying.
"If that was true, Mrs. Engstrom would still be here, colorful dialect and all," she joked, then started for her room as Cole crossed the stretch of floor between them. "Good night."
Cole caught her arm, stopping her before she could take another step.
"I'm tired, Cole," she said quickly, frightened by the wave of sensation that rocked her slim frame and sent a burst of heat into the deepest part of her. Veronica was unaware of the hunted look in the violet depths of her eyes, which had flown to his, unable to avoid their determined cobalt glints. They stood staring at each other for a long moment before Cole stepped close and lifted her chin with the side of a lean finger.
"Don't," she whispered as his lips lowered to hers. Cole allowed her to turn her face away slightly, but the light touch of his finger slid upward to trace a pattern of sensation on her flushed cheek.
"Would it help to apologize for the other night?" he asked huskily as the fingers of his other hand slid along the line of her jaw and combed gently into her hair.
"An apology won't change anything," she said, her eyes sparkling with resentment when they shot back to his—resentment that he thought an apology would get her into bed with him!
"Oh, but it will," he rasped confidently, his voice going softer.
"But I wo− "
Cole's finger tapped silencingly on her lips. "I don't expect you to," he assured her, smiling gently. "Friends again?" His dark brows arched and Veronica felt herself unfairly swayed by what she must have been mistaking for anxiety in his eyes.
"All right," she said at last.
Cole's mouth settled tenderly on hers before he drew away, his lips stretched in a satisfied smile.
"Then good night, Ronnie," he whispered. Veronica stared up into his eyes for a confused moment before she turned and headed to her room.
CHAPTER TEN
Cole was immediately aware that something had happened the moment Veronica entered the den.
Her cheeks were burning with anger and humiliation, and her eyes held glimmers of hurt. The way she tossed the set of keys onto the desk in front of him betrayed more than average irritation, and Cole rose swiftly to his feet.
"What is it, Ronnie?" he demanded gently.
"You'll have to go pick up Curtis from Helen's yourself," she said, and he sensed rather than saw that she was about to burst into tears.
"Why? What's wrong?"
Her battle to control her hurt and anger was nearly lost when she tried to explain. The memory of Curtis's frightened gray eyes cut into her heart afresh. She had no explanation for the boy's sudden inexplicable fear of her and it hurt unbearably to think of it, much less tell Cole.
"Curtis didn't want to get into the car with me," she managed, her voice wavering. Cole came around the desk, his iron visage mildly alarming. "Curtis—" Veronica took a deep breath to steady herself "—Curtis was frightened of me and. . ." Veronica's throat closed up in a spasm of hurt.
"And what?" Cole caught her upper arms gently and bent slightly to look closely into her tear-stung eyes.
What could Veronica tell him? Helen was Jackie's sister. How could she tell him about the humiliating way Helen had taken Curtis aside and hugged him protectively while she coldly ordered Veronica off her front porch? Helen had seemed glad of both Curtis's reluctance to go with her and the opportunity to send Veronica home to Cole without his son.
"Helen didn't think it was a good idea to send Curtis home with me," she told him, struggling to remind herself that Helen had been sensible not to send the boy with someone he mistrusted.
"The hell you say!" Cole burst out. Veronica tried to shrink out of his grip, and instantly his harshness softened. "I'm not angry with you, Ronnie," he assured her, but when he started to pull her into his arms, she put up a firm hand to deny herself the comfort of his broad chest.
How it had hurt to see another display of Curtis's inability to tolerate her! And now something had made him mistrustful—and worse—frightened of her. But what?
"Let's go get this straightened out." Cole hadn't commented on Veronica's sudden resistance to his nearness, but when he sensed she was doing so to withdraw from him emotionally, he pulled her closer. "Whatever this is between you and Curtis is going to change," he promised. "I'll see to it."
Veronica shook her head. "You can't force the boy to like me, Cole. Besides," she reasoned, "it's not as if I'm going to be living here indefinitely. Let's just leave him alone." Cole's grip on her arms tightened.
"I won't have my son behave this way without provocation," he said gruffly.
"How do you know I haven't done something to cause all this?" she challenged. Cole's gaze never wavered.
"Because I know you," he said quietly.
Veronica was instantly angry.
"Because you think you know me," she corrected. "What do you really know about me?" Her demand hung heavily between them. "I could tell you a few stories about men my mother thought she knew. I used to cause a lot of problems for her with each new suitor, but at least when I was frightened of one, she'd give credence to what I told her. How can you do less?"
Cole's mouth tightened grimly. "The fact that you're taking the boy's side against yourself only reinforces my trust in you, Ronnie," he told her stubbornly. "But I intend to get to the bottom of this." Cole's somber countenance was intimidating. "Let's go." He had started to guide her to the door when she pulled back.
"This should just be bet
ween you and your family. My presence might color any explanations you get." Veronica was barely aware of the way her hands were twisting on the crutch grips.
Cole seemed to accept her refusal, but before he turned to go and pick up Curtis from Helen's, he bent to place a quick kiss on the unrelaxed line of her lips, leaving a warmth that lingered long after he turned away. Veronica listened to his booted stride continue through the silent, house until the porch door closed. It was then that the brimming wetness in her eyes coursed disconsolately down her cheeks.
Cole sighed heavily as he leaned back in the porch swing where Veronica had spent a good share of the evening alone.
"He won't talk to me." Cole's deep voice was husky with frustration as he automatically set the wide swing in motion with the rhythmic bunch and release of his powerful thigh muscles. Veronica relaxed and allowed Cole's easy strength to rock her as she inhaled the warm night ah and caught a whiff of the masculine scent of soap and after-shave she associated exclusively with Cole.
"Where is he now?" It distressed her that her presence had divided father and son.
"He's confined to his room for the rest of the evening." Cole's irritable tone betrayed his hurt. He was just as bewildered as she by Curtis's behavior.
"Please don't be impatient with him," she urged. "And don't treat him harshly. He'll not only blame me, but your relationship with him is too precious to risk for the sake of an outsider."
Cole cursed roundly and turned toward her in the swing, his abrupt movement destroying the rhythm and bringing the swing to a lurching halt.
"You're no outsider," he growled as he pulled her roughly to himself. "You're—" The grooves on each side of his well-carved mouth deepened in exasperation when he couldn't seem to finish the sentence. Veronica was pressing against his chest trying to separate them before the raw sensuality she sensed in Cole was released. But it was too late.
Cole's lips captured hers as he crushed her to him. All thoughts of resistance vanished beneath the insistent pressure of the hard mouth that mastered hers and drew her into the emotional whirlwind that claimed them both. She had no thought of refusal when Cole's hand came between them to unfasten a few buttons of her blouse before his vanquishing lips wandered lower.
Fierce, possessive, drugging. Cole's mouth set every nerve ending writhing in sensuous torture as he kissed a trail to the shadowy cleavage of her breasts. Veronica was breathless when she felt the front of her bra being unclasped. Then a sharp intrusion of fear suddenly had her clutching at her blouse, struggling to cover herself. But the lean fingers that restrained hers were stronger.
"Please don't." The anguish in her voice stopped him. Cole placed a couple of coaxing kisses on each corner of her love-swollen lips, but at last her resistance made him stop.
"What's wrong?"
Veronica felt her reserve weaken at the tenderness in Cole's voice. He wasn't angry, only perplexed. One look at the concern in the darkened depths of his eyes was almost too persuasive for her to resist.
"I'm. . .I'm. . ." Veronica paused, licking her dry lips. "There was a lot of twisted metal in the accident." Her voice wavered hoping Cole would take the hint without her having to explain further, but he didn't seem to understand. "I've got a lot of ugly scars," she whispered, her gaze dropping to his collar. She couldn't bear to watch the revulsion that would surely come next.
The large hand that had caught her small frantic ones pulled her slim fingers away from the front of her blouse. Panicked eyes shot back to his face. In spite of what she'd just told him, she read the determination on his iron features and went still in his arms. Her dark-lashed lids drifted closed at the tender intrusion of his fingers into the V of her clothing, then crept open, unable to keep her eyes from his face. A part of her sensed Cole would not react in a hurtful way, and that sudden bit of intuition enabled her to endure the next few seconds.
Cole released her hands. Slowly he parted the front facings of her blouse, then gently pushed away the concealing lace of one side of her bra. Veronica trembled as her unscarred breast was bared to his gaze. Tides of embarrassed color came into her face as Cole's breath started coming unsteadily.
Without prolonging her discomfort more than necessary, Cole uncovered her other breast. Blue eyes that missed nothing followed the still-vivid scarring along her shoulder that dwindled to a jagged red seam that slashed over the outer curve of her right breast to just below the nipple. The natural symmetry of the silken mound had been altered only slightly. Cole gently traced his thumb over the breast section of the scar before he abruptly lowered his dark head.
"No!"
The strong fingers that had just touched her breast intercepted the hand she put up to keep him away, his firm grip making resistance impossible. Veronica gasped in pleasure as his teeth closed tenderly around the dusky tip, his tongue teasing the nipple to full hardness. Veronica had to bite her lip to keep from crying out. All her fear vanished in the flash fire of sensation Cole kindled in her. Her hand was released and Veronica clutched at his shoulders, her head slowly dropping back in sensual surrender as his mouth journeyed to her other breast for a few bone-melting moments. By the time his mouth made an unhurried ascent to her lips she was liquid in his arms.
"Sometimes it amazes me how worked up women get about such damned trivial things as scars," he growled against her mouth, then took her lower lip between his teeth and gave it a reproving tug. "There are other qualities more important to me than physical perfection, Veronica, and I think it's about time you realized it."
The stern angles of Cole's face had softened, and the deep blue of his eyes revealed tender sincerity. Veronica felt soul-liberating relief. Cole hadn't found her repulsive. His unexpected acceptance of her body restored much of the self-esteem she'd struggled for months to regain.
For the first time since the accident Veronica realized that the consequences of that tragic ride were not quite as final as she'd first believed. It was gradually dawning on her that she really would recover fully, that her life could be salvaged, her personal goals resurrected.
Cole brought his hands around to her blouse front, one corner of his mouth curved in self-directed mockery. "There's nothing like getting carried away on a porch swing with the audience potential this one has," he said as he nodded toward the barn and outbuildings that included the bunkhouse. Capable fingers fastened her bra and slowly rebuttoned her blouse. Then he was kissing her again and the tremor that went through her echoed in Cole's large frame.
"This has to stop," he rasped between kisses, but he was pulling her even harder against himself, making the extent of his arousal clear. Reluctantly Veronica summoned what was left of her modesty, striving to remind herself that any of Cole's men could look toward the house and see them.
Veronica pulled her arms from around his neck and slipped her hands between herself and Cole. He accepted the wordless signal, but Veronica sensed the effort it cost him to relax. Even when she decided he had there was a tenseness about him that indicated he could easily become aroused again.
"Do you mind if I ask what Helen had to say about this afternoon?" she ventured, hoping her question would distract them both. Cole loosened his embrace. "Has she had any insight at all into what caused Curtis to be frightened of me?"
Cole shifted on the swing, then stretched his long legs out in front of him. Keeping her against his side, his arm resting more casually around her shoulders, Cole sighed and set the swing in motion again.
"Helen can't figure it out, either," he said, "but she insisted she was right not to send Curtis with you." The frustration had come back into his voice, and Veronica again regretted that her presence was causing problems.
"I think she was right, too." Veronica meant what she said, no matter how angry Helen had made her or how hurt she'd been at Curtis's refusal. However, she wasn't ready to believe that Helen didn't know why Curtis was frightened of her. Other than Cole, Helen was the one person wh
o spent hours at a time with the boy. It didn't take much to conclude that Helen's disapproval and dislike of her had been picked up by Curtis. Veronica tried not to think about the possibility that the boy had actually been encouraged not to like her.
"I didn't come out here to talk about Helen," Cole said gruffly, as his gaze turned from staring into the distance to find her face in the slowly dwindling light. "I've started making plans for a camping trip this weekend." Cole's voice had lowered, implying that his plan included her.
Deliberately misunderstanding, Veronica smiled and said, "That sounds like fun, Cole. Curtis will love having you to himself for an entire weekend. Maybe a couple of days together will make up for the problems my being here has caused you both." Her eyes shied away from the instant exasperation on Cole's face.
"But you're the most important part of my plan, Ronnie," he said. "Did you ever learn to fish?" Cole gave her a reassuring squeeze.
"This isn't a good idea," Veronica insisted, shaking her head. She had to look away from the glimmer of purpose in Cole's eyes as she searched for some way to discourage him. "I can't go, Cole. What about the sleeping arrangements? What will Curtis think about the three of us going off to the woods together?"
"I've thought of all that. You'll have your own tent and Curtis and I will bunk together in the bigger one. Besides, this will give you two an opportunity to spend some time together away from the ranch. I want him to get used to us being together."
Veronica tried not to think about Cole's last remark and her excuses continued. Cole merely smiled at her hasty attempts to dissuade him, patiently listening to every point she made before firmly rejecting each one. His mind was made up. Nothing would disrupt his weekend plans for three.
"Tired?" Cole grinned down at Veronica as he pulled up the tent stake she'd just started to pound into the ground. She watched as he stretched the tent rope and repositioned the stake several inches beyond where she had struggled to place it. With a wry twist to her lips, she followed on her hands and knees.
