by Diana Palmer
“I’ll drive her,” Clark volunteered. “She can console me.”
Winnie hugged her brother, and then Keely. “I’ll call you,” she told her friend.
Keely nodded. She was disappointed that she didn’t get to see Boone at all, and sad for Clark that he’d been lied to. It didn’t seem at all like Boone to have people make up stories about Nellie.
Clark put her into his sports car and peeled out down the driveway. He was still furious, and it showed.
“What are you going to do?” she asked.
“I’m going to do what Boone wants me to do,” he muttered. “I’m giving Nellie up before he finds a way to destroy her reputation.”
She felt sad for him. “Boone is formidable,” she said.
“He’s too used to getting his own way. He’s run things for so long that he thinks he can run people’s lives, as well.” He glanced at her. “Are you game for a little payback? After all, he’s done his bit to hurt you, as well.”
She felt a sense of dark foreboding. “What bit?”
“He told Misty that you were running after him at the charity dance,” he said tautly. “I told you there was some gossip. She heard it and raised hell. Boone usually doesn’t pay attention to her when she rants, but he did that time. He said you’d lured him onto the patio and flirted with him shamelessly.”
She was so embarrassed and humiliated that she wanted to sink through the floor. That was an absolute lie, and Boone knew it. She bit her lip almost through.
Clark glanced at her stony expression and grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to lay it on that thick.”
“The truth is always best, Clark, even if it hurts.”
“I couldn’t believe it when I heard him,” he said. “I know you don’t chase men. And you never flirt. When she left, I gave him hell. He just walked away without a word. You can’t argue with him. He ignores you!”
She felt very small. She’d gone running out to the Sinclair house to go riding with Winnie on the flimsiest excuse, hoping to see Boone. And he’d been telling lies about her to his girlfriend. It was the last straw. She felt sick to her stomach.
“Let’s start going out together, for real,” Clark said curtly.
“What good would that do?” she wanted to know.
“It would teach Boone a lesson about trying to run peoples’ lives, that’s what it would do,” he gritted. “I’m sick of him leading me around like a kid. He can’t stand Nellie because he says she’s mercenary. But what is that gilt-edged gold digger he takes around with him, if she’s not mercenary?”
“She isn’t one of my favorite people.”
“Or mine. And now he’s talking about getting engaged,” he muttered. “I heard him mention it to Hayes Carson on the phone. I couldn’t hear everything he was saying, but he sounded furious. Then he mentioned that he was trying to get engaged. I couldn’t believe it. But when I saw the rings sitting on his desk…”
Her heart fell the rest of the way into her shoes.
He sighed. “Well, I won’t live in the house with that ratty woman, and Winnie says she won’t, either. If she moves in, we’re moving out. Boone can entertain her all by himself.”
“I can’t say I blame you,” she said in a subdued tone. “She was willing to sacrifice poor old Bailey just to go to a concert.”
“Something you’d never do in a lifetime,” he replied and smiled across at her.
“I love animals.”
“So do I.”
“So what do you mean, that we’d pretend to go around together, like we were doing before? Boone saw right through it, Clark.”
“He won’t this time,” he assured her.
She puzzled those words the rest of the way home while she endured the pain of Boone’s cruel taunts. The man who’d kissed her so tenderly on the patio of the community center hadn’t seemed like someone who would humiliate a woman who responded to him. But she knew very little about men, and Boone had certainly pegged her for a novice. Perhaps he was just amusing himself. He’d moved away from her when she mentioned Misty, and he’d been remote. Maybe he felt guilty playing up to one woman when he was involved with another one. He had to explain the gossip to Misty, so he’d made Keely the fall guy. Gal. Whatever. She could almost hate him for that. For certain, it brought home the reality of her situation.
Boone was wealthy. Keely was poor. His girlfriend was socially acceptable and pretty. Keely’s father was a criminal. That said it all.
Clark pulled up at her front door and cut off the engine. “We’re going to San Antonio, to the ballet.” He held up a hand when she started to protest. “I’m going to hire a bodyguard so Boone won’t have the excuse that I’m putting you in danger.”
That was a new twist. She felt new respect for her friend.
“And we’re going shopping, whether you like it or not,” he added firmly. “You need some pretty evening wear, something silky and off the shoulder,” he added with a smile.
Keely felt sick. “I don’t wear those sorts of things,” she said primly.
“I’m not asking you to wear your underwear,” he said gently. “Just something a little more feminine than what you usually go around in.”
He couldn’t know how he was hurting her pride. But it did show, and he noticed. He frowned.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She clasped her hands together in her lap. “Clark, I can’t wear clothes that don’t button up to the neck, much less something off the shoulder,” she said with grim pride. She raised her face. “I had an…an accident, just before Dad brought me back to Jacobsville. There are, well, scars…”
“God, I’m sorry!” he said at once. “I didn’t know!”
“Nobody knows, not even my mother,” she said, tight-lipped. “And you can’t tell anyone, either.” She lowered her eyes to her jeans. “It’s something I’ve learned to live with, in my own way. But I have to dress within the limitations of my injury.”
“That weakness in your arm,” he recalled out loud. “That’s part of it, isn’t it?”
She nodded. Her face was flushed. “I’m sorry.”
“No. I’m sorry,” he replied quietly. He reached over and clasped her hand in his. “I won’t tell anyone,” he promised. “And we’ll buy very conservative clothes. But pretty ones.”
“I won’t let you do that,” she said proudly.
He pursed his lips. “Suppose I made you a loan?”
“I could never pay it back. You’ll just have to make do with what I can afford to wear. My mother can loan me some of her more conservative things, and her fox fur. I’ll look presentable. I promise.”
He smiled gently. “Okay. If that’s what you want.”
“This bodyguard, you should probably ask Sheriff Carson about it,” she said.
“I will. Go on in. I’ll be in touch.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asked as she opened her door. “Nellie might come back to you.”
“I don’t know that I want her to,” he replied. “We’ll take it one day at a time. If you need anything, though, you let me know, okay?”
She wouldn’t, and he knew it, but she smiled.
His dark eyes narrowed. “And I’m sorry that I told you what Boone said,” he added solemnly. “It hurt you.”
“Life hurts, Clark,” she said quietly. “There’s no getting around that.”
“So they say.” He leaned over to close the door, and powered the window open. “Next Friday night. The ballet.”
She smiled. “I’ll ask Dr. Rydel if I can leave work early.”
“I’ll ask him, too,” he volunteered.
“You brave soul!”
“Yes, I’ve heard that he’s making meals of the staff lately, but we get along,” he chuckled. “I’ll call you. So long.”
“So long.”
Chapter Ten
The bodyguard was actually a Jacobsville police officer who worked odd jobs when he was off duty. He was powerfully bui
lt and never seemed to smile.
Instead of riding in the car with them, he drove his own private vehicle and followed behind them to San Antonio. Clark had paid for his gas and would have bought him a ballet ticket, as well, until he’d mentioned that he’d prefer being burned at the stake. So Clark had made other arrangements for when they were inside.
Keely was wearing the same green velvet dress she’d worn to the dance, and her mother’s fox stole and high heels. She was nervous about mingling with the upper classes of San Antonio, but Clark held her hand and reassured her that they were just regular people like himself.
He recognized a friend of his and introduced Keely to him. The man was Jason Pendleton, who owned a truck farm in Jacobsville. He was usually with his stepsister, Gracie, but tonight he was with a redhead whom he introduced as his fiancée. The woman was brassy and not very polite. She dragged Jason away scant minutes later and led him to a local newspaper owner instead.
“I guess we aren’t quite good enough company,” Clark mused. “Old Peppernell over there does own a newspaper, but our family could buy most everything he owns out of petty cash. Jason will tell her that, at some point, and then she’ll drag him back over here and gush and pretend that Peppernell is a cousin or something whom she had a duty to talk to. His sister, Gracie, isn’t impressed by dollar signs. She has friends who don’t have a penny. But Jason’s fiancée apparently only associates with the ultrarich.”
He was amused. Keely was mortified. “Is that the sort of people you know?” she asked uneasily. “They judge you by dollar signs?”
“Jason doesn’t. His fiancée apparently does.” He frowned. “I wonder where Gracie is? It’s unusual not to see them together.”
“Is it?” she countered, curious. “Brothers and sisters don’t usually partner each other at social events, do they?”
“They’re not related,” he said carelessly. “Gracie’s mother married Jason’s father, and promptly died, leaving Jason to look after her. Gracie’s mother is dead, but Gracie still lives with Jason. Until now, he hasn’t been much for commitment. His fiancée is nice-looking, I guess, but she’s grasping, too.”
Keely had noticed that. She was watching the woman as Jason Pendleton bent his tall form to speak to her. The woman gaped at Clark and Keely and winced.
“She just got the bad news.” Clark chuckled under his breath.
Keely laughed, too, but as she turned her head, her eyes collided with Boone Sinclair’s. She shivered at the unexpected encounter. She averted her eyes at once and turned back to Clark, clinging to his hand. Her heart was racing again. Boone had accused her of chasing him shamelessly. She didn’t want to have to speak to him at all.
Boone was with Misty. He tugged her over to where Keely and Clark were standing.
“Before you start,” Clark told his brother belligerently, “I’ve got Jarrett from the Jacobsville Police Department acting as our bodyguard on the road, and Detective Rick Marquez has the seat on the other side of us at the ballet.” He gave his brother a cold look. He was still smoldering about that private detective’s report on Nellie. “I’ve covered all our bases.”
Boone’s dark eyes narrowed irritably. He looked at Keely until she was forced to meet that riveting stare, but she immediately turned her attention away from him. She couldn’t forget what he’d said about her to his girlfriend.
“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” Boone said shortly.
“Boone, why don’t we just enjoy our evening and let your brother and his…friend…enjoy theirs?” Misty asked haughtily. “He’s over the age of consent, you know.”
Boone gave Misty a look. He turned back to Clark. “Don’t put her at risk,” he said solemnly.
“I would never do that,” Clark replied shortly. “And you know it.”
Boone gave Keely a long look that she ignored. He was scowling when he escorted Misty to their seats.
“You invited Marquez?” Keely asked, for something to say.
“Yes. He loves the ballet, and he’s our lookout inside, just in case your father and his friend decide to mount an attack in the audience,” he added with pure sarcasm.
Keely laughed. “I don’t think that’s likely to happen.”
“Neither do I. Boone’s getting strange lately. He was giving Hayes Carson hell on his cell phone last night, God knows for what. Hayes is his best friend, but they’re falling out.”
“Are they?” she asked absently, still reeling from Boone’s intense interest and not really hearing what Clark said. “Shouldn’t we go in?”
“We probably…”
“Oh, there you are,” Jason Pendleton’s fiancée rushed up. “I’m so sorry we rushed away, but we had to speak to that friend of Jason’s!”
Clark glanced at Keely and had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing.
Jason was giving his fiancée an odd sort of look, as if he hadn’t noticed this social climbing penchant of hers. He wasn’t conventionally handsome, but Keely could see why he drew women; and it wasn’t because of his money.
She gave the couple a shy smile as Clark led her into the auditorium.
Detective Marquez grinned at them as they sat down.
“You’re alone?” Clark asked, surprised.
“I can’t get girls.” Marquez shrugged. “Once they see the gun—” he indicated his shoulder holster “—and they realize that I carry it all the time, they usually leave skid marks getting out of my life. But it’s okay,” he said pleasantly. “I always wanted to spend my whole life alone with no kids or grandkids.”
Clark and Keely burst out laughing.
He just grinned.
All through the ballet, which was beautiful and riveting, Keely was aware of Boone’s dark eyes watching her. She hated the feelings she couldn’t help, because she knew what he really thought of her. It was humiliating that she couldn’t wish them away.
When the performance was over, Boone stopped Clark, Keely and the bodyguard at the front door.
“We’re stopping by Chaco’s Bar and Grill for a nightcap. Why don’t you join us? Your bodyguard is welcome to come in, too.”
“I don’t drink on the job,” Jarrett said unapologetically. “But thanks.”
“We should probably start toward home,” Clark began, knowing Keely’s reluctance to be around Boone.
“Just a nightcap,” Boone said, and he had that expression that meant he was going to get his own way come hell or high water.
“Well, all right,” Clark gave in, as he always did. He grimaced, because he’d had a glimpse of Keely’s face when he agreed.
“We won’t stay long,” Boone promised.
He and Misty started toward his sports car. It was parked next to Clark’s. Misty was complaining loudly about the intrusion on their privacy. Keely felt like doing the same. She didn’t want a nightcap, especially with Boone.
But they ended up at the bar anyway. Keely ordered a soft drink. Misty glared at her while she ordered a whiskey sour with a smirk, as if she thought Keely was putting on some sort of Puritan act.
“Marquez would approve,” Clark said gently when Keely was served. “You’re not legal, yet.”
“What?” Misty asked.
“You have to be twenty-one to have a drink in a bar,” Clark said carelessly.
She frowned. “You’re not even twenty-one?” she asked Keely.
“I’ll be twenty on Christmas Eve, in four months,” Keely said without looking at her.
Misty was irritable, and it showed. She sipped her drink and ignored Keely.
Boone didn’t. He seemed restless. When Misty excused herself to go to the ladies’ room—with obvious reluctance—and Clark decided to go, too, Keely was left alone with Boone.
She couldn’t force herself to look at him. She sipped her soda with both hands wrapped around the glass and stared toward the bar.
“You haven’t said a word to me all night,” he said unexpectedly. “And you haven’t looked at me once.�
�
Keely did, then, and her eyes were blazing. “I didn’t want it to seem as if I were chasing you,” she told him coldly. “I understand that I threw myself at you at the charity dance and it offended you.”
His jaw tautened. He looked away, as if the comment embarrassed him. “There are things going on that you don’t know about. You shouldn’t be wandering around the state with Clark.”
“I’m as safe with him as I would be at home,” she said. “Clark is a wonderful man. I’m very lucky that your private detective turned him off Nellie. Apparently,” she added with a meaningful smile, “I’m more to his taste than she is.”
His scowl was intimidating. But before he could speak, Misty was back. She swept into her chair and leaned against Boone’s shoulder to distract him. Clark and Keely were stiff and uncomfortable, and they barely managed to remain civil for the time it took them to finish their drinks.
Misty made a point of getting Keely momentarily alone on their way out to the cars.
“He’s talked about nothing except you all night, God knows why! Well, you won’t get him,” she said icily. “I’m going to fix you!”
Keely didn’t get a chance to ask her what she meant. Misty ran to Boone and almost tripped getting to their car. Misty was apparently jealous that Boone had mentioned Keely. She couldn’t imagine why, but it thrilled her to think he might be regretting his bad behavior.
“What the hell is wrong with Boone?” Clark asked on the way home. “I’ve never seen him so grim.”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” Keely said.
“I gave him the devil about that detective’s report. He swore he hadn’t put the man up to lying.” He glanced at Keely. “It’s hard for me to stay mad at him. But I’m sorry I couldn’t get us out of that drink.”
“It’s okay, Clark,” she replied. “He’s a bulldozer. It’s hard for anyone to say no to him.”
