To Love and Cherish

by Diana Palmer

  She couldn’t sleep that night. Her nerves were all on edge, raw. It was because of King, because of the way he affected her. She’d always been aware of his physical attractions, but she’d managed to keep her feelings carefully camouflaged before. Now it was getting harder by the day not to let them show. She caved in when she was around him. The air show yesterday, the unexpected bonus of spending a morning with him today, had left her with a glow she never expected. He made her pulses run wild just by looking at her. But she felt, ironically, incredibly safe with him. Secure. Protected. She rolled over with a sigh. Why did she have to feel like this about King, anyway? Why couldn’t she have felt that way about Danny instead?

  King didn’t want any part of her, that was for sure. All he wanted was for Shelby to get out of his brother’s life so that there’d be room for Mary Kate in it. Mary Kate with her cattle and oil that would give King and his father an even bigger empire and the hope of an heir to leave it to.

  She pounded the pillow in its cool, crisp pillowcase and tossed restlessly onto her side. Why hadn’t she been born a country girl? Maybe then King would at least tolerate her. But she was a “city lady” and he wasn’t going to forget that.

  With a moan of frustration, she swung her feet to the floor and pulled on her burgundy dressing gown. She flicked on the small light by her bed and yawned. She just wasn’t sleepy, and there was no forcing it. Maybe if she had a book to read…

  She went downstairs carefully, only able to see by the muted light of the wall lamps along the staircase, and into the den. Her bare feet didn’t make any noise at all on the thick pile of the carpet. She was careful to leave the door slightly ajar, too, so there wouldn’t be any unnecessary noise.

  Her slender hands touched the covers of the fiction books in the soft light that came from the desk lamp, but none of the titles interested her. She moved along to the nonfiction portion of the shelf and discovered a volume on Western history. She tugged it out carefully and leafed through it, her eyes fascinated by actual photographs of such infamous Westerners as John Henry “Doc” Holliday and Cole Younger. She was lost in the book when she felt a sudden prickling sensation at the back of her neck. She turned around and gasped when she saw King standing just inside the door, scowling at her.

  His shirt was unbuttoned, hanging loose from his trousers, baring his bronzed, muscular chest with its heavy wedge of curling dark hair. His hair was mussed, as if he’d been running his fingers through it. He looked alarmingly masculine and vibrant, and more than just a little dangerous.

  “I…I’m not stealing the family silver, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said, hating the breathless note in her voice.

  “Couldn’t you sleep, honey?” he asked quietly.

  She moistened her dry lips. “No,” she admitted. “I thought I might read for a while.”

  He shouldered away from the door and came toward her, his face dark and unsmiling. He stopped just in front of her, his eyes taking in the quick rise and fall of her breasts under the satin robe, the runaway pulse at the base of her throat.

  “I…I’d better get back to bed,” she whispered.

  His eyes traveled down the length of her slender body lingering where the lapels parted over her thin gown.

  “Did you plan on reading yourself to sleep?” he asked.

  Not trusting her voice with him this close, she only nodded.

  He reached out and took the book from her nerveless hands, idly checking the title with a faint smile before he tossed it onto the desk and caught her by the waist.

  “I can think of something that’ll put you to sleep a lot faster than reading a book,” he murmured sensuously. He pulled her against him slowly, gently, watching the staggering effect it had on her when her slender body touched his.

  She caught her breath at the newness of the action, at the feel of his possessive hands on her waist, burning even through the layers of fabric.

  “Please don’t…” she pleaded in a whisper.

  His own breath was coming as quick as hers now. He brushed his open mouth against her forehead. “Run your hands over my chest, Shelby,” he whispered gruffly.

  She flushed like a schoolgirl. Her fingers clenched where they rested against his cool shirt. “No!”

  “You sound like an outraged virgin,” he murmured, “and that’s something we both know you’re not.”

  “You don’t know anything about me,” she choked, pushing helplessly against the rock-hard muscles of his chest.

  “I know what I do to you.” His hands moved caressingly against her waist and back through the robe. “I can feel it, just as I felt it yesterday afternoon; this morning. I make you uneasy as hell, don’t I, honey?”

  Her head bowed and her heart raced. “Don’t,” she breathed.

  He laughed softly. “What are you afraid of—betraying Danny? He wasn’t concerned about betraying you when he went off with Mary Kate two days in a row, was he?”

  “It’s just friendship…” she protested weakly.

  “The hell it is.” He tipped her chin up and brushed his hard mouth across her closed eyes. “But if you don’t want Danny to know, we won’t tell him.” His hands came up to cup her flushed young face. He bent and she felt, helplessly, the warm, tobacco-scented breath on her lips. “I’ll make it good for you, Shelby,” he whispered sensuously.

  His mouth broke against hers, taking it softly, slowly, so that she could feel each slow, deliberate movement of his hard, warm lips, his tongue as it traced the inner line of her mouth. She trembled, and he felt that, too; the soft movement of his lips told her so.

  He was no boy. He knew exactly the moves to make that would check her tentative struggles. He was slow and tender and expertly demanding, and Shelby thought that there had never been such a kiss as this, that drained her of will, that made her weak and yielding, that brought her heart trembling into her throat. Her slender hands moved softly across his hard chest and she moaned unconsciously.

  King’s cool, rough hands left her face and slid down her back to her hips to hold her even closer and, instinctively, she stiffened and tried to pull away from the intimate contact.

  He drew back, the question in his dark, scowling expression. He looked down at her as if he’d been stung. He bent again, forcing her mouth open this time, penetrating it roughly, and, again, she flinched away from him, frightened. His lean hand came up to hover over the soft singing line of her breast and she strained away from it, with her heart trying to jump out of her body at the new intimacy of a relationship she’d tried desperately not to let happen between them.

  Her apprehensive eyes met his and he blinked, moving his hands into her thick, short hair to hold her face up to his. His eyes were dark and strange, his face like stone, giving nothing away as he studied her.

  “Shelby,” he whispered breathlessly. His eyes dropped to her soft, tremulous mouth. His thumbs edged out toward her flushed cheeks caressingly. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, little girl,” he said finally, gently. “I won’t force you.”

  Her stunned eyes asked the question for her.

  “Oh, yes, I know,” he answered, and he searched her face with a shattering intensity. “I’ve had too many women not to know. You’re very innocent, little one. As lovely as you are, I’m surprised there hasn’t been a string of men behind you. But you’ve never even been held intimately until now, with me.”

  Her eyes dropped to his bronzed, hair-covered chest between the open edges of the shirt. And never wanted to be held intimately, until now, she could have told him. She wanted to run her fingers over that broad chest and taste his mouth the way he’d been tasting hers. She wanted things of him and with him that she’d never wanted with anyone else, and she was just beginning to realize it.

  “I tried to tell you…” she faltered.

  “Actions speak louder than words,” he reminded her. He reached down and brought her cool, nervous hands against the blazing warmth of his bare skin, moving the
m into the nest of thick hair. “This is how I like to be touched by a woman,” he said against her forehead.

  Her hands trembled under his insistent fingers and she was afraid of what he might ask of her in this lonely, dimly lit room; afraid of what she might say or do.

  “King,” she pleaded breathless, with one last rush of sanity, “I’m engaged….”

  “If he cares so damned much, why did he spend the day with Mary Kate?” he asked roughly. “Why did you spend the morning with me? Stop talking, Shelby. I want to make love to you.”

  She raised her face to protest and his mouth went down against her parted lips, easing them even farther apart under the coaxing, deepening pressure, drawing gently back when she stiffened, increasing the intensity again when she relaxed. Her hands spread out on his chest, loving the masculine feel of him against her, loving the sensations he was causing in the warm, pulsating silence. She should stop him, she should go back to bed, she told herself. But she was with King, and she wanted the taste and touch of him to last forever.

  “You’re soft,” he whispered against her trembling mouth, “and warm, and I love the feel of you under my hands, the silky taste of your lips under my mouth. I love the touch of you against my skin. Oh, God, I want you, Shelby!”

  Her forehead dropped against the dampness of his chest while she tried to catch her breath, feeling the swollen throb of her mouth with a sense of awe. “I…I can’t,” she whispered shakily.

  “Why not?” he murmured. “It has to start somewhere. Why not with me? You’re too passionate to remain so innocent for long. Just like your mother, no man’s ever going to satisfy you completely, but I might come close….”

  She tore out of his arms and backed away, her eyes full of the sudden mockery in his level gaze, the faint lines of contempt deepening around the mouth she’d kissed so hungrily.

  “You needn’t look so shocked,” he said in a strange tone. “It isn’t the first time I’ve invited you into my bed.”

  “No,” she agreed, hurting, “but it’s going to be the last. I’m going home, and this time I won’t come back!”

  “And what’s Danny going to say about that?” he asked contemptuously. He threw a faint smile at her while he lit a cigarette, and she watched him silently, noticing the mussed hair her fingers had tousled, the swell of his lower lip where hers had clung. It embarrassed her a little to remember how completely she’d responded to his rough ardor.

  “I don’t care what he says,” she managed.

  “I do.” His eyes darkened menacingly. “You walk out that door again like you did the last time, and I’ll make your life hell, Shelby. You’re not running out on Danny. You’re going to tell him the truth. Or I will.”

  “And what is the truth?”

  “That you want me,” he said bluntly. “That I could have you any time I wanted you.”

  “That isn’t true!” she cried, horrified.

  “The hell it isn’t.” His gaze dropped to her mouth and an unreadable expression flickered for an instant in his eyes. “If it wasn’t for the respect I have for my brother, you’d be in my bed right now, and you damned well know it!”

  Her eyes closed under a wave of anguish, because she did know it. Her small hands clenched at her sides and she felt a wave of shame washing over her in the silence that throbbed between them. She could feel King’s eyes on her downcast face.

  “You think of some way out of this farce of an engagement, Shelby,” he told her, “and you do it before you and Danny leave the ranch. You know by now that I don’t make threats. If you don’t break the engagement, I’ll tell him the truth. And you won’t like what comes next.”

  Mutinously, her big dark eyes met his with a rare flash of spirit. “And what’s that?” she asked bravely.

  “I’ll finish what we started here tonight,” he replied with deadly confidence. “And I promise you he won’t want what I leave of you.”

  Her face went beet red. “You brute!” she whispered brokenly.

  “Even when you fight back, you’re lukewarm,” he scoffed. “Is that the most insulting thing you can think of to call me?”

  “No!” she replied.

  He smiled unpleasantly. He crushed out his cigarette in the ashtray on his desk. “I may make a woman out of you yet,” he laughed softly. “Come on, Shelby, bed. I’m tired even if you aren’t, and I’ve got a hard day ahead of me.”

  She flushed. “I won’t!”

  “Why, Miss Kane,” he said with mock surprise, “what did you think I was suggesting?”

  Flushing, she whirled and ran out of the room and back up the stairs, hating him as she’d never hated anyone before.

  Five

  Shelby didn’t see King all the next morning. Danny remarked casually that his big brother had flown to Austin on business and wouldn’t be back for at least a couple of days.

  Shelby breathed a sigh of relief. After last night, it was going to take some time for her to even be able to look King in the face again. How could she have yielded to him so eagerly? Surely she could have held out against his charm if she’d tried…

  Who was she kidding? She fell into step beside Danny as they walked through the rose garden behind the house, heading toward the river. She wanted King in a way she’d never be able to want another man, and he knew it. Even now she could feel the hard, warm crush of his mouth, the strength of his arms, and she felt as if she’d been torn in half, missing him already. Was it going to be like this from now on when he was out of her sight? Why did she feel this way? It was almost as if she was in love…

  In love. A torrent of emotion raged through her as she savored the words. In love. With King? With a man who’d been nothing but an enemy from the day they’d met, who’d hurt her at every turn, who’d admitted that he’d do anything to keep her from marrying his brother. Last night had just been part of his overall plan to tear her away from Danny. He’d admitted as much. So why did she feel this aching hunger to be in his arms again?

  “Oh, King,” she whispered breathlessly as the pain surged up in her.

  “What?” Danny asked absently.

  “Nothing,” she replied. “Tell me about the flood they had here last year.”

  But before Danny could open his mouth, a familiar honeyed voice called out, “Oh, there you are, Danny! Do you think your fiancee would let me borrow you for a few hours?” Mary Kate Culhane asked with a cold glance in Shelby’s direction. “I need some legal advice.”

  “I really shouldn’t leave the ranch, Mary Kate,” Danny said with a smile. “King’s flying back just for a few hours before he heads back out to that sale in North Georgia, and I need to discuss a few things with him.”

  Shelby felt her heart bounce against her ribs. So King’s few days away weren’t quite started yet. Her pulse ran away and she couldn’t keep up with what Danny and Mary Kate were discussing for worrying about how she was going to face King. It wouldn’t be the same between them ever again. Not after what she’d felt in his arms. And she wasn’t any good at hiding her emotions, she never had been.

  “Danny, I’m going home,” she said suddenly, without preamble, and turned to go back to the house.

  He caught her arm. “Now? But you can’t!”

  “Danny, don’t be that way,” Mary Kate exclaimed with barely contained glee. “Shelby knows what’s she’s doing.”

  “Shut up, Mary Kate,” Danny shot at her, and for an instant he looked just like King in a bad mood. He turned back to Shelby. “You can’t go yet. I…uh, I can’t leave to take you!” he finished smugly.

  “I’ll get a cab. A bus. I’ll walk.”

  “All the way to San Antonio?” he burst out. “Shelby, what’s the matter? Afraid to wait until King gets here?”

  “What makes you say that?” she choked, paling.

  “Brilliant deduction,” he said proudly. “And I’m not going to let you mess up my carefully thought out plans. Plans, Shelby, remember?” he asked with a hasty glance toward Mary
Kate. “Hmmmm?” he persisted.

  “What we thought would work, isn’t,” she said stubbornly, with a glance of her own toward the puzzled blonde.

  “You don’t know how well it’s working,” Danny corrected with a grin. “Be a sport. Two more days, then we’ll both go, okay? Deal?”

  “Now I know what they mean by plea bargaining,” Shelby said wearily, but with a smile. “It’s a synonym for blackmail.”

  “That’s libelous,” he warned.

  “Oh, what are you two talking about?” Mary Kate grumbled.

  “Nothing at all,” Danny lied. “Want to go for a ride, Mary Kate?” he asked with a grin.

  Her small face lit up. “Oh, could we?” Her face fell. “What about your fiancee?” she asked in a subdued tone, and for the first time Shelby saw through those cold green eyes, all the way to a very warm little heart that was hurting terribly. It was staggering. Shelby even understood how she felt, because she was beginning to experience similar feelings every time King came to mind.

  “I…I have some phone calls to make,” Shelby said quickly. “Do go ahead.”

  Mary Kate gaped at her. “You—don’t mind? Really?”

  Shelby smiled. “I don’t mind, really. Have fun.”

  Danny tugged a short lock of straight, silky dark hair. “I hope I can tell you that before long.”

  She turned away. “I wouldn’t bet on it. Why don’t you tell Mary Kate the truth?” she asked over her shoulder. “You aren’t very convincing, anyway.”

  Danny chuckled. “Maybe you’re right.”

  Shelby walked the rest of the way back deep in thought. What was Danny up to? Surely not protection from Mary Kate, from the look of it. But…what?