He hadn't realized that. He stared down at their hands, hers so pale against his deeply tanned one. "I got burned once, didn't your aunt tel you?"
"I got burned once, too," she replied, "and I don't want to—"
"Again," he finished for her, looking up unexpectedly. "Neither do I."
"Then why don't you let go of my hand?" she asked breathles ly.
He drew it relentles ly to his hard mouth and brushed at it with soft, moist strokes that made her go hot al over. "Why don't you stop me?" he countered. He pried open her palm and touched his tongue to it, and she caught her breath and gasped.
He looked up, his eyes suddenly hotly green and acquisitive, and she felt the first tug of that steely hand on hers with a sense of fantasy. Her eyes were locked into his pos es ive gaze, her body throbbed with new longings, new curiosities.
"I'm going to teach you a few things you haven't learned," he said, his voice like velvet as he drew her relentles ly down toward him. "And I think it's going to be an explosive les on for both of us. I feel like a volcano when I touch you. ."
Her hps parted as her eyes dropped to his hard, hungry mouth. She could almost see it, feel it, the explosive desire that was going to go up like fireworks when he put his hard mouth on hers and began to touch her.
She almost cried out, the hunger was so formidable. Silence closed in on them. She could hear his breathing, she could feel her heartbeat shaking her. In slow motion she felt his hard thighs ripple as she was tugged down onto them, she felt the power and strength of his hands, smel ed the rich fragrance of his cologne, stared into eyes that wanted her. She parted her lips in breathles anticipation, aching for him. Just as his hand went to her shoulder, to draw her head down, the front door opened with a loud bang.
Chapter Five
Good morning," a pleasant auburn-haired young man was saying before Mari was completely composed again. He seemed to notice nothing, equal y oblivious to Mari's flushed face and Ward's uneven breathing.
"Good morning, David," Ward said in what he hoped was a normal voice. From the neck down he had an ache that made speech difficult. "Have some coffee before we start to work."
"No, thank you, sir," the young man said politely. "Actual y, I came to ask for a lit le time off," he added with a sheepish grin. "You see. .I've gotten married." Ward gaped at him. His young secretary had always seemed such a levelheaded boy, with a head full of figures. As it turned out, the figures weren't always the numerical kind.
"Married?" Ward croaked.
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"Wel , sir, it was kind of a hurried-up thing," David said with a grin. "We eloped. She's such a sweet girl. I was afraid somebody else would snap her up. And I wondered, wel , if I could just have a couple of weeks. If you could do without me? If you have to replace me, I'l understand," he added hesitantly.
"Go ahead," Ward muttered. "I'l manage." He shifted in the chair. "What would you like for a wedding present?" David brightened immediately. "Two weeks off," came the amused reply.
"Al right, you've got it. I'l hold your job for the time being. Now get out of here. You know weddings give me indigestion," he added for good measure and then spoiled the whole thing by smiling.
David shook his hand with almost pathetic eagernes . "Thank you, sir!"
"My pleasure. See you in two weeks."
"Yes, sir!" David grinned at Mari, to whom he hadn't even been introduced, and beat a path out the door before he could be cal ed back. He knew his boss pret y wel .
"That tears it," Ward grumbled. "What in hel wil I do about the mail?"
She stared at him, stunned by his lack of feeling. "He just got married."
"So what?" he demanded. "Surely the only time he real y needs to be with her is after dark."
"You male chauvinist!"
"What are you so keyed up about, honey?" he taunted irritably. "Frustrated because I couldn't finish what I started before he walked in on us?"
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What good would it do to argue? she asked herself as she noisily loaded up the dirty plates and utensils and took them out to the kitchen without a single word. He followed her a few minutes later, looking half out of humor and a lit le guilty.
Standing in the doorway he fil ed it with his big, tal frame. His hair looked rakish, fal ing over his broad forehead, and he was so handsome that she had to fight to keep from staring at him al over again.
"I've got to ride over and see about my rig on Tyson Wade's place," he said quietly. "Can you handle the phone?"
"Sure," she told him, walking over to the wal phone. "This is the receiver," she began, pointing to it, speaking in a monotone. "When it rings, you pick it up and talk right in here—"
"Oh, for God's sake," he burst out. "What I meant was that it rings al day long, with everything from stock options to social invitations to notices of board meetings!" She pushed back her bangs. "I've worked in offices since I was eighteen," she told him.
He cocked his head. "Can you type?"
"How ever do you think I'l manage al the housekeeping and cooking as wel as looking after your appointments and answering mail and waiting on Aunt Lil ian al at once?" she demanded.
His eyebrows arched. "Wel , if you aren't capable of it, I'l hire a cook and a maid and a nurse and a secretary. . " Mari could only imagine how her aunt would react to that. She glared at him. "And break Aunt Lil ian's old heart by importing a lot of strangers to keep us apart?" 60
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He laughed in spite of himself. "I gues it would," he confes ed. His green eyes narrowed, and there was a light in them that disturbed her as he ran his gaze slowly over her slender body. "God forbid anything should keep us apart."
"Don't you have an oil wel to check on?"
"Several, in fact," he agreed. He folded his arms. "But at the moment I'd rather look at you."
"And I'd rather you didn't," she said curtly, averting her eyes to the dishwater.
"I like the way you react to me, Mari," he said softly. "I like the way your body starts to tremble when I come close. If I'd started kis ing you a few minute ago, we'd stil be doing it. I don't even know if I could stop. And that being the case," he added, leveling with her, "I think you'd bet er practice ways to discourage me. Lil ian won't be around much when she comes back until her leg heals. So you and I are going to get a bit of each other's company. I'd just as soon manage your lit le visit without showing you how good I am in bed."
His blatant speech shocked her. She turned, soapy hands poised over the sink, and stared at him. "Are you?" she asked without thinking. He nodded slowly, holding her gaze, his face dead serious. "A man doesn't have to be emotional y involved to make love wel . I've had years of practice. But it's never meant much, except physical y. It never wil . So you keep that in mind, sprout, okay?" "Okay," she replied, al eyes. His eyes narrowed at her expres ion. "Haven't you ever discussed these things with a man?"
"My parents didn't discuss things like that," she replied. "Most of the girls I've known had a distorted view of it because they did it with so many people.
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I. . find the thought of it distasteful, somehow. Sleeping with someone, wel , it's intimate, isn't it? Like using someone's toothbrush, only more so. I couldn't. . just do that, without loving."
She sounded so hopeles ly naive. He searched her face and realized with a start that he'd never made love to a virgin. Not one. Not ever. And the thought of touching her in al the ways that he'd touched other women produced a shocking reaction from his body— one he was grateful that she wouldn't recognize.
"What an unusual at itude," he said involuntarily.
"That isn't the word most people use," she replied, her eyes dull and lackluster. "Men avoid me like the plague, except to do typing and answer phones. I'm what's known as an oddbal ."
"Because you don't sleep around?" he asked, stunned.
"Exactly. Didn't y
ou know that the pil has liberated women?" she explained. "They're al owed the same freedom as men. They can sleep around every night without any consequences. Of course, they sacrifice a few things along the way that the liberals don't mention. Things like that deep-seated guilt that al the permis ive ideals in the world won't change."
He stared at her. "My God, you are a fanatic, aren't you?" he mused.
She smiled slowly. "How would you like marrying a woman and hearing al about her old lovers? Meeting them occasional y and wondering if you measured up? How would you like to have a pregnant wife and wonder if the baby was real y yours? I mean, if she sleeps around before marriage, what's to keep her from doing it afterward? If promiscuity is okay, isn't adultery okay as wel ?"
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Everything she was saying disturbed him. Caroline had slept around. Not only with him, but, as he'd later found out, with at least two of his busines acquaintances. He frowned at the thought. Yes, he'd have wondered. And he'd only just realized it.
"But I'm just a prude," she announced dryly. "So don't mind me. I'l grow into happy spinsterhood and die with the reputation that Elizabeth I had."
"Unles you marry," he said involuntarily.
She laughed ruefully. "Men don't marry women they haven't slept with. Not these days." She turned back to the dishes, oblivious to the brief flash of pain that crossed the face of the man behind her. "I'm not into self-pity, but I do face facts," she continued calmly. "I'm not pret y, I'm just pas able. I'm too thin, and I don't know how to flirt. And, as you yourself said, I'm a greenhorn when it comes to intimacy. Al that adds up to happy spinsterhood." She gazed thoughtfully out the window over the sink. "I'l grow prize roses," she mused aloud. "Yes, that's what I'l do. And zinnias and crape myrtle and petunias and lantana and hibiscus." He wasn't listening anymore. He was staring at the back of her head. Her hair was very dark and sleek, and he wished she'd left it long, the way it was in the photograph he'd seen. She wasn't a beauty, that was true. But she had a pret y good sense of humor, and she didn't take herself or anyone else too seriously. She had guts and she told the truth. Damn her.
He didn't like his at raction to her. He didn't like how she could make him tremble al over like a boy when he started to kis her. He didn't want her knowing it, either. The whole point of this exercise was to exorcise. He had to get rid of this lunatic obses ion he felt.
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"I'm going," he said shortly, shouldering himself away from the doorjamb. "I'l be back by three-thirty to go to the hospital with you." "I'l phone meanwhile," she said. "Do what you please." He stormed off, leaving her curious and speechles . What an odd man. What a dangerous man. She spent the rest of the day working herself into exhaustion so that she wouldn't dwel on what had happened at breakfast. When they got to the hospital, Lil ian was sit ing on the side of her bed, dres ed.
"It's about time," she began hotly. "Get me out of here! They've put on a cast and decided it was infected sinuses that made me fal . They've given me some tablets they say wil lower my blood pres ure, and if you don't spring me, I'l jump out a window!"
"With that?" Ward asked, nodding toward the heavy plaster walking cast on one of her legs.
"With that," she as ured him. "Tel him I'm serious about this, Mari," she added.
Mari was trying not to laugh. "You look pret y serious."
"I can see that. Where's the doctor?"
"He'l be here any minute," Lil ian began.
"I'l go find him," Ward returned, walking quickly out into the hal , moving lightly for a man his size.
"How's it going?" Lil ian asked, al eyes.
"How's what going?" Mari asked with as umed innocence.
"You were alone al last night!" she his ed. "Did he try anything?"
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Mari lifted her eyebrows and pursed her lips. "Wel , he did try to cal somebody on the phone, but he couldn't get them." Lil ian looked pained. "I mean, did he make a pas at you?"
"No," Mari lied. It was only a white lie, just enough to throw the bloodhound off the scent.
The older woman looked miserable. It didn't bode wel that Ward was so irritable, either. Maybe her matched pair had been arguing. Lil ian had to get out of here and do a lit le stage-managing before it was too late and her whole plan went down the tube!
Ward was back minutes later, looking as unapproachable as he had since he'd driven up to the house at three-thirty with a face like a thunderhead.
"I found him. He says you're okay, no stroke," he told Lil ian. "You can leave. I've signed you out. Let's go."
"But we need a wheelchair.. " Mari began.
He handed her Lil ian's purse, lifted the elderly woman easily in his arms and carried her out the door, his set features daring anyone to question or stop him. Back at Three Forks Lil ian's room was on the ground floor, and despite al the protests she immediately returned to the kitchen and started supper.
"Do you want to go back to the hospital?" Ward demanded, hands on hips, glaring. "Get into bed!"
"I can cook with a broken leg," she returned hotly. "It isn't my hands that don't work, and I've never yet used my toes!" He sighed angrily. "Mari can do that."
"Mari's answering your let ers," he was pointedly reminded. "She can't do everything. And with David gone. ."
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"Damn David," he muttered darkly. "What a hel of a time to get married!''
Lil ian glared at him until he muttered something rough under his breath and strode off toward his den.
Mari was inside the paneled room, working away at the computer. She was trying to erase a mistake and was going crazy deciphering the language of the computer he'd shown her. The word proces ing program was one of the most expensive and the most complicated. She couldn't even get it to backspace.
"I can't do anything with your aunt," he grumbled, slamming the door. "She's sit ing on a stool making a pie."
"No wonder you can't do anything with her," she commented innocently. "Your stomach won't let you." He glared at her. "How's it going?"
She sighed. "Don't you have a typewriter?"
"What year do you think this is?" he demanded. "What kind of equipment have you got at that garage where you work?"
"A manual typewriter," she said.
His head bent forward. "A what?"
"A manual type—"
"That's what I thought you said. My God!"
"Wel , until they hired me, one of the men was doing al the office work. They thought the manual typewriter was the latest thing. It did beat handwriting al the work orders," she added sweetly.
"I work with modern equipment," he told her, gesturing toward the computer. "That's faster than even an electronic typewriter, and you can save what you do. I thought you knew how to use it."
"I know how to turn it on," she agreed brightly.
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He moved behind her and peered over her shoulder. "Is that al you've done so far?"
"I've only been in here an hour," she reminded him. "It took me that long to discover what to stuff into the big slots."
"Disket es," he said. "Program disket es."
"Whatever. Anyway, this manual explains how to build a nuclear device, not how to use the word proces ing program," she said, pushing the booklet away. "Or it might as wel . I don't understand a word of it. Could you show me how it works?" She looked up at him with eyes the color of a robin's egg. He actual y forgot what he was saying. She had a way of looking at him that made his blood thaw, like the sun beating down on an icy pond. He could imagine how a colt felt on a spring morning with the breeze stirring and juicy gras to eat and a big pasture to run in.
"Could you?" she prompted, lost in his green eyes.
His big hand touched the side of her face tentatively, his thumb moving over her mouth, exploring its soft texture, mussing her lipstick, sensitizing her lips until they parted on a
caught breath.
"Could I what, Mari?" he asked in a tone that curled her toes inside her shoes.
Her head was much too far back. It gave him acces to her mouth. She saw the intent in his narrowing eyes, in his taut stance. Her body ached for his touch. She looked up at him helples ly, his wil ing victim, wanting his mouth on hers with a pas ion that overwhelmed her.
He bent slowly, let ing his gaze fal to her parted lips. She could smel the heady fragrance of his cologne now because he was so close. There was mint and coffee on his breath, and he had strong white teeth; she could see them where his chiseled lips parted in anticipation of posses ion. Her breasts throbbed, and she noticed a tingling, yearning sensation there.
"Your skin is hot," he whispered, tracing her cheek with his fingers as he tilted his face across hers and moved even closer. "I can feel it burning." Her hands were on his arms now. She could feel the powerful muscles through the white shirt that he'd worn with a tie and jacket when they went to pick up Lil ian. But the jacket and tie were gone, and the shirt was partial y unbuttoned, and now the overwhelming sight of him fil ed Mari's world. Her short nails pres ed into his skin, bending against those hard muscles as his lips brushed over hers.
"Bite me," he whispered huskily and then incited her to do it, teasing her mouth, teaching her.
She knew nothing, but she wanted so desperately to please him so that he wouldn't stop. This was magic, and she wanted more. Her mouth opened and she nipped at his firm lower lip, nibbling it, feeling its softnes . He laughed softly deep in his throat, and she felt his hand move from her cheek to her shoulder, down her arm to her waist. While he played with her mouth, his fingers splayed out and then moved up, and the thin fabric of her flowery shirtwaist dres was no barrier at al as he found her rib cage and began to tease it.
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