Regan's Pride

by Diana Palmer

  His anger was intimidating. He was like a summer storm in anger, all flashing fury. But she remembered when she’d thrown the flour at him and he hadn’t retaliated. He could control his temper. Barry had never tried.

  His other hand caught her by the waist, lightly, and held her when she would have pulled back. His gaze was curious now, speculative.

  “Sandy says you’re afraid of me,” he asked bluntly. “Are you?”

  She lowered her eyes to his chest, and she watched its regular rise and fall. “You’re…volatile.”

  “I’ve always been volatile,” he returned. “Hot tempers run in my family. But I’ve told you before that I don’t attack women.”

  “I know that. Not even when you’re drowned in flour,” she added with a faint smile.

  He tilted her face up to his, and she expected to find humor in his eyes. But she didn’t. He was solemn, searching her wan face with intent curiosity.

  “You were telling Sandy that Barry taunted you with me…”

  She pushed at him. “Please, don’t!”

  “No, Coreen, I’m not trying to embarrass you,” he said gently. He stilled her uncoordinated movements. “Listen, he was playing both ends against the middle. He told me that I was the reason you couldn’t bear for him to touch you.”

  “That wasn’t true.” She couldn’t look at him. “I never felt anything with him, physically, except fear and pain. It had nothing to do with you.”

  “It made me feel guilty all the same,” he returned abruptly. “When Barry was young, he was my shadow. He always seemed to look on me as a father figure after his own father died.”

  “He envied you,” she replied. “You were everything he wanted to be, and never could. He…said once that he wanted me because he thought you did. It was like a contest for him, taking something you prized away from you.” She laughed bitterly. “Funny, isn’t it? He married me and then found out that you didn’t want me at all.”

  “And made you pay for it?”

  She shivered. “I don’t want to talk about it, Ted.”

  He drew in an angry breath, staring over her head toward the wall. Her comment about the dog Barry had ordered shot gave him even more unwanted insight into what her married life had been like. He hated what he was seeing.

  “It’s all over now,” she said after a minute. His nearness was disturbing to her. She drew back from him and he let her go, but his eyes still held her, filled with turmoil, with emotions she couldn’t read.

  “Did Sandy ever tell you about our father and mother?” he asked hesitantly.

  She nodded. “Many times.”

  He ran a lean hand through his silver hair. “The age difference between them destroyed their marriage. Eventually he couldn’t keep up with her in the social whirl she liked. She started going out alone, left him behind. It was inevitable that she’d fall in love with someone closer to her own age and leave him, but he couldn’t see it. He grieved all his life for her, and Sandy and I paid for that. He blamed us because she left him. He said that if it hadn’t been for him wanting kids, she’d still be with him.”

  She winced at his tone, and her heart ached for the little boy he once was. It must have hurt him terribly to overhear such things. “Oh, Ted, if it hadn’t been you and Sandy it would have been some other excuse. She couldn’t have loved him enough, don’t you see? If she had, she’d have been home with him, not going to parties! She wouldn’t have wanted to go anywhere without him!”

  He turned and looked at her, his eyes narrow and assessive. “Is that your definition of a happy marriage? Two people who are inseparable?”

  “Two people with common interests,” she corrected, “who love each other but are kind to each other and want the same things from life.” She shrugged helplessly. “Barry wanted bright lights and alcohol and beautiful companions. He liked people with his same sort of intolerance for differences and his pleasure-oriented attitude toward life. I don’t like social occasions at all. I like being outdoors and I love animals.” She folded her arms over her breasts. “He wouldn’t even let me have a goldfish in the house.”

  He felt as if he’d never known one single thing about her as she said that. She liked the outdoors, liked animals…of course she did; she’d spent plenty of time at the ranch before she married Barry. She loved horses and riding and she’d never been one for parties. Why hadn’t he noticed? She even liked skeet shooting, or she had before he’d made it impossible for her to go to the gun club with her father.

  His tormented look puzzled her. She studied him curiously.

  “I never knew you,” he said slowly.

  “You never wanted to,” she replied flatly. She sighed and turned away. “And what does it matter now, anyway, Ted?”

  She had her hand on the doorknob when he spoke.

  “If Barney’s company means that much to you, I’ll withdraw the job offer,” he said bitterly.

  She didn’t look back. “No, it’s…he’s very happy, his father said. He was just being friendly, Ted, that’s all. You and Sandy have been very kind to me. It’s just that…” How could she tell him that she was alone too much, that she needed someone to talk to? Sandy had to work and so did he. Besides, it would sound as if she was begging him to keep her company. “Never mind.”

  “Are you lonely, Coreen?” he asked softly.

  Her hand tightened on the doorknob. She drew in a slow breath. “Aren’t most people?” she asked in a haunted tone. She opened the door and went out.

  Coreen was surprised to find Ted at the table the next morning when she went to eat breakfast. Sandy had said that she’d have to leave very early for an appointment in Houston, and Coreen had given herself the luxury of sleeping late. It was after ten when she dressed in jeans and a floppy knit blouse and went in search of toast and coffee.

  She stopped in the doorway, staring at Ted.

  “Sleepyhead,” he chided kindly. “Sit down and eat.”

  “It’s after ten,” she commented.

  “Oh, I had something to do this morning,” he said mysteriously. He poured her a cup of coffee and put it at her place, pushing the milk and sugar toward her. “Nibble on something and then I’ve got a surprise for you.”

  Her eyes widened. “For me?”

  He nodded. His pale eyes twinkled. “No, I’m not going to tell you yet. Eat up.”

  She hadn’t had many pleasant surprises. She ate a piece of toast and drank her coffee, all the while watching Ted intently for any giveaway expression. It wasn’t like him to give presents, except to Sandy.

  “Through?” he commented when she dabbed at her unvarnished lips. “Okay. Come on.”

  He led her through the kitchen, calling a greeting to Mrs. Bird on the way through. They went out to the stable and she looked up at him curiously as he stopped at the first stall and opened it to let her in.

  Curled up on a soft cloth in the stall was a baby collie. Coreen could hardly breathe as she looked at it.

  She went down on her knees beside the little thing. It opened its eyes and made tiny whimpering sounds. She gathered it up in her arms and cuddled it, laughing when it licked her chin. Tears of joy and gratitude and surprise rolled soundlessly down her cheeks.

  Ted knelt beside her. “He’s a beaut, isn’t he? He’s already been to the vet for his shots and checkup. He’s purebred, too, you’ll have to name him… Corrie!” he exclaimed when he saw the tears, shocked speechless.

  “Thank you.” She choked out the words, smiling up at him. “Oh, thank you, Ted, he’s the most beautiful…thing…!” Impulsively she reached up to pull his face down and she kissed him enthusiastically on his hard mouth.

  Then, embarrassed, she pulled back at once and turned her attention to the puppy. “I’ll call him Shep,” she whispered huskily. “Isn’t he gorgeous?”

  Ted was silent. His pale eyes were riveted to her bent head and he was scowling. He wondered if she even realized what she’d done. The impulse that had led him in search of th
e puppy made him feel good. It was the first spark of pleasure he’d seen her betray since she’d been here.

  “Well, I can see that I won’t get another sensible word out of you today. I’ve got to go to work.” He got up.

  Coreen stood up, too, clutching her puppy. “Why?” she asked breathlessly.

  He touched her mouth with his forefinger. “Maybe I like seeing you happy.”

  “Thank you. I’ll take ever such good care of him.”

  He smiled. “Sure you will.” He withdrew his hand and left her to it.

  Sandy was fascinated by the puppy. She was more fascinated by the fact that Ted had bought it for Coreen.

  “He’s never wanted animals around, except for the horses and the cattle dogs he uses on the beef property,” Sandy explained. “He’d have let me have pets, if I’d wanted to, but he’s never been much of an animal lover—well, except for the horses,” she repeated. She frowned. “Curious, isn’t it, that he’d buy you a dog.”

  “I don’t understand it, either,” Coreen confessed. “But isn’t he a beautiful dog?”

  “Indeed he is. My, my, isn’t my brother a mass of contradictions.” She sighed.

  Coreen and the puppy were inseparable after that. He followed her on her walks and laid in the corner while she helped Mrs. Bird in the kitchen. She bathed him and combed him, careful not to hurt him where he’d had his shots from the vet. She doted on him, and vice versa.

  When she went to ask Ted about some paperwork Sandy had mentioned he needed help with, Shep came trotting along at her heels.

  “My God, the terrible twins,” Ted drawled when they walked into his study, but he was smiling when he said it.

  “Isn’t he cute?” She chuckled. The puppy had already made a world of difference in her. His vulnerability brought out all her protective instincts, as Sandy had already related.

  “I hear you’re fighting his battles already,” he mentioned.

  She flushed. “Well, it was a vicious big dog. I couldn’t let him hurt Shep.”

  “What was it you threw at him?” he asked. “A handful of eggs, wasn’t it?”

  She flushed even more and then glared at him. “Well, they scared him off, didn’t they?”

  “And I didn’t get my chocolate cake for dessert because they were the last eggs Mrs. Bird had, and she didn’t have a way to get to the store to buy more,” he added.

  “Oh, Ted, I’m sorry! I didn’t know!”

  He laughed at her expression. “I can live without chocolate cake for one more day. You threw flour at me and eggs at the invading dog—I guess it’ll be milk cartons you’ll be heaving next.” He pursed his lips. “Talk about mixing up cake the hard way…!”

  “Stop making nasty remarks about me or I’ll sic Shep on you,” she threatened.

  The puppy waddled over to him and began licking his outstretched hand. He gave her a speaking glance.

  She glared harder. “Traitor,” she told Shep.

  “Little things like me,” he commented, and his face softened as he looked at the dog.

  “Haven’t you ever wanted children?” she asked without thinking.

  His eyes came up and met hers and then suddenly dropped to her waistline and lingered there for so long that she felt hot all over. Her lips parted. Her body responded to that look in ways she hadn’t dreamed it could. She stared at him breathlessly while his hot gaze levered back up to her mouth and then to her shocked eyes.

  “Are you reading my mind already?” he asked tautly when he saw her expression.

  She couldn’t find an answer that wouldn’t incriminate her. He got up from the chair, slowly, holding her gaze as he walked carefully around the puppy and stopped just in front of her, so close that she could feel the heat of his body and the soft whip of his breath on her temple.

  “I’ve never let myself want a child,” he said roughly. “Do you know why?”

  She barely had the strength to shake her head.

  “Because people would mistake me for its grandfather. I’m feeling my years a bit, Corrie. I wouldn’t be able to do all the things children like doing with their parents. By the time a child of mine was ready for college, I’d be almost ready for Social Security.”

  Her blue eyes sought his and searched his lean, dark face. “You’re so handsome,” she said involuntarily. “It would…be a pity not to have a child of your own.”

  His heartbeat went wild. He’d never felt such desire for a woman. He reached out and touched her throat, where a pulse shuddered just under the skin.

  “Thinking about children excites you,” he commented roughly. “Did you want one of your own?”

  “Not with him,” she said, her voice unsteady. “I made sure that I couldn’t.”

  His hand stilled at her throat. “What do you mean, you made sure?” he demanded.

  There was a note to his voice, an urgency, that was disturbing. She searched his worried eyes. “I mean, I took something to prevent a child,” she said.

  He let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he was holding. “You didn’t have surgery?”

  “Oh, no,” she said. His eyes disturbed her. “Why would it bother you to think that I couldn’t have a child?” she blurted out, and then stood still with horror at what she’d asked so blatantly.

  If she’d shocked herself, it seemed that she’d shocked him even more. He stared at her blankly for a moment. Then he scowled and searched her eyes until she flushed.

  “I don’t know,” he said honestly. He moved closer, bringing his hands up to frame her oval face. They were faintly callused hands, warm and strong against her skin.

  Her fascinated eyes fell to his mouth and she remembered how it had felt the morning he gave her Shep, when she’d kissed him so uninhibitedly.

  His hands tilted her head just a little, and one thumb eased up to her lower lip, teasing it to part from her top one.

  “Keep your eyes open while I kiss you,” he said huskily, bending slowly toward her. “I want you to know who I am, every minute!”

  As if she could forget, she thought with faint hysteria. His hard mouth parted against hers, his lips easing down on hers with a slow, sensuous pressure.

  She stiffened and her hands went to his shirt, but he didn’t stop.

  His hand came up to stroke her cheek, toy with her mouth while his lips explored it. And all the while he watched her watching him, seeing her pupils begin to dilate when his body shifted against her, dragging her breasts against his broad chest.

  His free hand slid down her back to the base of her spine and gathered her sinuously against him, so that she felt his jean-clad thigh push between her own legs in an intimacy that was new and exciting.

  He lifted his head to look at her. His breathing was as unsteady as her own, and there was nothing calm in his eyes now. He traced her cheek and the outline of her mouth. At the same time, his muscular leg moved farther between hers and his hand pressed her closer in a new and disturbing intimacy. She could feel the insistent pressure of him against the inside of her thigh. It was the first time since she’d first met him that he’d ever allowed her to feel his body in complete arousal.

  She started to pull back instinctively, but he moved so that he was perched against the edge of his desk. He drew her in between his legs and held her there by both hips, deliberately moving her to make her aware of what he was feeling.

  She blushed and her eyes couldn’t get higher than his chin.

  “Look at me, Corrie,” he said huskily.

  She had to drag her eyes up, and they were shy, apprehensive, excited all at once.

  His lips parted on a slowly released breath, and his hands lifted her slightly into an even more intimate position. He caught his breath sharply at the sensations it brought and his teeth clenched. He held her there firmly, groaning softly with pleasure at her involuntary movement.

  “Ted…!” she protested in a feverish whisper.

  “I’d like to make you feel the kind of pleasure it gives
me to hold you like this, Corrie,” he said, staring into her eyes. He smiled gently. “Embarrassed?”

  “I’ve never done this with you,” she faltered.

  “No,” he agreed. His eyes fell to her soft knit blouse and lingered where her nipples pressed visibly against the cloth.

  She knew what he was looking for. Her own body was her worst enemy, but she couldn’t hide it from him.

  One long leg came around her legs at the knee, holding her, while his hand slid under the knit top. He caught her eyes and slowly lifted his hand under the hem until it reached the thin garment that was no barrier to his touch. He traced the nipple with his forefinger and thumb and felt her whole body jerk.

  “Is this where he cut you?” he asked very quietly.

  She swallowed. “No. It’s…the other one,” she whispered.

  “I’ll be very careful with you,” he promised softly. “Don’t be frightened.”

  He reached around behind her and unfastened the catch. Seconds later, his hand pressed tenderly against her bareness and she gasped at the sensations he drew from her body so effortlessly.

  His hands slid up her rib cage, taking the fabric with them, and when she caught them, he only shook his head and kept going.

  The impact of his eyes on her bare flesh made her very still. He studied the long, thin scar with the tracks of removed stitches still visible, and his jaw tautened. Then his attention turned to her other breast and lingered there for a long moment on the perfection of it, the firm, creamy softness with its hard, dusky tip.

  When she saw his head bend, she was too hypnotized to register what it meant. Then his mouth opened on her unblemished breast and began to suckle her. She stiffened and clutched at him, making a tiny cry in her throat.

  He drew back at once to see whether passion or fear had produced that choked sound.

  “Am I hurting you?” he asked softly.

  She bit her lower lip, hesitating as she tried to decide between the truth and a lie.

  But he knew. A warm light darkened his pale eyes. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he said softly. “I’m enjoying it, too. You’re so soft, Corrie. It’s like rubbing my lips over a rose petal.”