Love with a Long, Tall Texan

by Diana Palmer

  “I didn’t do anything except disarm one of the henchmen,” Chris argued.

  “Well, I sure as hell didn’t do anything,” Seth remarked haughtily. “I wouldn’t soil my hands with such filth.”

  Tansy went to Seth, stood on tiptoe and kissed his lean cheek. “Thank you, dear.”

  He kissed her back and smiled warmly. “Come visiting again. But do it in a conventional way this time, hmm?”

  “Behave yourself,” Tansy directed.

  “I’m the soul of discretion,” Seth assured her. He grinned at Della, glanced at Chris, and suddenly caught Della around the waist, bent her back over his arm, and kissed her with exaggerated passion.

  He let her up, breathless and flushed, and grinned wickedly. “You should have met me first,” he repeated. He waved at the others, went to gather his men, and went stealthily out the back door.

  “Damned bounder,” Chris muttered, staring at Della.

  “Don’t you worry,” Della assured him as she smoothed down her hair. “He’s very good—but you’re better.”

  Chris’s expression lightened. “Am I?”

  She grinned. “Much.”

  Tansy burst out laughing. “And that answers that question, doesn’t it, my boy?” she asked her son.

  “Yes,” he agreed with a warm smile. “I suppose it does.”

  They gave the tape recorder and the men over to the police when they arrived and gave statements as well. Tansy was taken to the hospital to be checked over. They kept her overnight and Della stayed in the room with her while Chris wound up the details of their trip, returned the rental car and got Tansy a seat on their flight back to Texas.

  “It’s been a very exciting trip,” Della told the older woman, “although I’m sorry for what you went through.”

  “It was an adventure, and it will improve with every retelling,” Tansy assured her with a wicked chuckle. “You and I are going to get along very well, my dear. I can tell that we’re the same sort of people.”

  “Well, not exactly. But you should meet my grandfather,” she told the older woman. “He was a war correspondent.”

  “War correspondent?” Tansy frowned. “Your last name is Larson? Is your grandfather Herbert Larson of UPI?”

  Della blinked. “Well, yes.”

  “For heaven’s sake!”

  “You couldn’t… You don’t know him?” Della asked.

  “Know him!” Tansy caught her breath and laid back among the pillows. “I’m surprised that he’s still alive, the chances he used to take!”

  “You do know him!” Della exclaimed.

  “About forty years ago,” Tansy said, “he and I were pinned down by Latin American revolutionaries when I was in South America, just after my first husband’s death. Your grandfather got me to the airport and onto a plane bound for home. I never met a man with such grit, such fire. He was…superb.”

  Della smiled. “He still is. He doesn’t get around as well, and his sight isn’t what it should be, but he’s kicking.” She hesitated. “He’s diabetic but he won’t give up sweets. That sounds familiar, too, doesn’t it?” she added.

  Tansy flushed. “Well, well.”

  “He and I live together,” Della continued. She stopped dead and frowned. “Oh, dear.”

  “Oh, dear, what?”

  “I can’t leave him,” she said plaintively, staring at Tansy with huge worried gray eyes. “He’ll die if I’m not there to make him take his medicine and keep him away from the sugar bowl!”

  Tansy reached over and patted her hand where it lay on the coverlet. “You marry Chris,” she said firmly. “And let me worry about Herbert. I think I may have a solution to your problem.”

  Della didn’t believe her. But when they arrived back in the States, and found Herbert Larson sitting in a seat next to the concourse entrance at the Houston airport, she began to understand what Tansy meant.

  The old man, silver haired and dignified, rose as the travelers came out of the airplane down to the concourse in the covered tunnel. He opened his arms and a happy Della ran into them to be hugged firmly and kissed. Tansy came out of the tunnel after her and stopped as the elderly man let go of Della and stood just looking at her. She was holding on to Chris’s arm, but she let it go and moved slowly toward the elderly man.

  They just looked at each other for a long moment. “You’ve got wrinkles,” Herbert said abruptly.

  “You’ve got flat feet,” Tansy shot back.

  “My granddaughter says she’s going to marry your son.”

  “Too bad if you don’t like it,” Tansy said huffily.

  He shrugged. “Looks like a nice boy,” he mused, glancing at Chris with a faint smile. “I like it. Della needs looking after. She’s too soft to be a reporter.”

  “She’s not too soft to be a political featurist,” Tansy said firmly. “It’s what she likes to do best.”

  “She’ll enjoy having kids and raising them more,” Herbert Larson said. “She’s a homebody, like my late wife was. No traipsing around the world getting into scrapes for Martha, no, sir!”

  “Well, let’s hear it for Saint Martha!” Tansy said through her teeth.

  Herbert raised an eyebrow and studied her closely. “Still jealous after forty years, hmm?” he taunted.

  “Della says you won’t give up sugar,” Tansy remarked, ignoring his question.

  “She says the same thing about you. Trying to die?” he accused bluntly.

  Tansy went scarlet. “I could ask you the same question!”

  He shrugged thin shoulders. “I thought about it. Not anymore, though.” His eyes narrowed. “I’ve just found a new lease on life. You like nightclubs?”

  She nodded jerkily.

  “Dancing?”

  She nodded again.

  He pursed his lips. “Maybe I’ll give you a whirl, if you play your cards right. You never could do a tango.”

  “And you can?”

  “I taught Valentino how,” he bragged.

  “You were in short pants when Valentino died,” she accused.

  “If I’d been old enough, I’d have taught him how,” he said with a grin. He went forward and took her arm. “Come on, Grandma. I’ll help you out to the car.”

  “You can drive?” she asked mockingly.

  “No, but I hired a man who could. Nothing’s too good for my granddaughter.”

  They walked ahead of the others, still arguing. Chris drew Della close to his side as they walked, pulling luggage on wheels behind them.

  “I think some of our problems are about to be solved. Apparently, they know each other.”

  Della nodded. “And fairly well, from the look of things. Miracles never cease.”

  “I hope they won’t kill each other before we get married.”

  She chuckled. “Oh, I don’t think there’s much danger of that.” She slid her hand into his and looked up at him with her whole heart in her soft gray eyes. “I can’t wait to marry you,” she added in a breathless whisper.

  He squeezed her hand, hard. His dark eyes were expressive on her face. “Neither can I.” He hesitated. “You really don’t mind the scars?”

  She smiled and pressed close against his side. “Don’t be silly.”

  His eyes closed briefly and his arm went around her, contracting almost painfully. It was like having every single dream of happiness he’d ever had come true. He could hardly contain the feeling it gave him to know she loved him.

  “I love you, Della,” he said tautly.

  She looked up into eyes that adored her. “I love you, too.” She smiled impishly. “How soon can we get married?”

  He searched her soft features warmly. “As soon as I can get a license. You’re not about to get away from me!”

  They were married by a justice of the peace exactly three days later, with Tansy and Herbert for witnesses. The elderly couple were holding hands, apparently having decided that fighting was less fun than exploring each others’ personalities. In a relatively s
hort time, they’d rediscovered the feelings they had for each other years ago, and they were inseparable.

  Chris and Della drove them back to Herbert’s apartment before they drove to the airport to catch their plane to Spain. They were going to Malaga, on the southern shores of Spain, along the Costa del Sol, for an extended honeymoon. Della, who’d traveled little in her life, was exuberant about the adventure of it. She couldn’t wait to get there.

  When they arrived and passed through customs, they took a cab to their hotel overlooking the blistering white beach and blue sea. The hotel was white stucco with gardens full of blossoming flowers. It was a dream of a place, with wrought-iron balconies and the smell of the sea air fresh and clean.

  “The Rock of Gibraltar is very close by,” Chris told her when they were installed in their suite, “and so is Morocco. We might take a day trip over there and explore the souq—the marketplace.”

  She turned from the window that led out to the balcony and stared at him hungrily, drinking in the sight of his long, lean body in white slacks and a red designer knit shirt. She was wearing a loose, comfortable crinkly cotton dress with tiny shoulder bows and little beneath it, because of the heat.

  “Alone at last,” she said with a soft smile. Her hands went to the shoulder bows and slowly undid them, letting the dress fall to the floor. Under it, she wore a white lace teddy that emphasized every sweet curve of her young body.

  Chris caught his breath. He went to her, his hands slow and caressing on her shoulders. “You don’t want supper first?” he asked quietly.

  She shook her head. Her arms went up and around his neck. “I want you first,” she whispered, and drew his mouth down on hers.

  The passion was explosive. She’d dreamed of being in his arms without fabric between them, and here it was happening, so naturally that she never thought to feel embarrassed. He eased her out of her clothing between soft, brief kisses that traveled the length of her body, each one more sensual and arousing than the one before.

  She knew that he was experienced, but until now she had no knowledge of the reality of intimacy. He aroused her expertly, slowly, taking his time, soothing all her secret fears until she was dazed and shivering with the pleasure he gave her.

  By the time he drew her carefully under him and eased down, she was eager and totally without fear or reserve. She lifted to meet the slow, sensuous downward thrust of his hips and laughed with pure pleasure when the tiny flash of pain was experienced and abruptly replaced by delicious sensations that rippled over her like waves.

  His lean hands moved her, teased her, taught her, while his mouth devoured hers in the stillness of the cool room. There was a rhythm that she hadn’t expected. It built the new sensations she was feeling into torrential spasms of pleasure that overwhelmed her unexpectedly and lifted her against him in a fever of submission.

  She hid her face in his hot throat as the spasms broke against themselves, twisting her under his demanding body as she reached and reached and finally found the exquisite source of the tiny sips of fulfillment she’d only sampled.

  He felt her go rigid, and at once, he drove for his own satisfaction, his mouth hard against her breast as he soared into the heights with her.

  When he collapsed at her side, she was still shivering, and laughing through the little aftershocks of ecstasy that left her moving restlessly on the bed.

  “So it’s like that,” she whispered, awed.

  “It’s like that,” he whispered back. He smiled and rolled over, his face damp with sweat, his eyes blazing with love. “Was I worth waiting for? You certainly were!”

  She chuckled and drew him down, so that she could kiss him with lazy enthusiasm. “Yes, you were,” she murmured. “I’m sleepy.”

  “So am I. We’ll have a nice nap and then we’ll go and find the nearest seafood bar.”

  “I love seafood,” she murmured drowsily.

  “Me, too.”

  He drew her close at his side and pulled the sheet over them, because the room was cooling. His last thought as he slid into oblivion was that a lifetime of Della wasn’t going to be quite enough….

  They called Tansy and Herbert the next morning to enthuse about the sights and sounds of Spain.

  “I’m glad you two are having fun,” Tansy said with laughter in her voice. “When you come home, we’ll have another wedding.”

  “What?” Chris burst out.

  “Herbert proposed,” Tansy said. “And this time, I accepted.”

  He handed the phone to Della. “You aren’t going to believe this,” he told her.

  “What?” she exclaimed when her grandfather told her the news.

  “Haven’t you people ever heard that you can marry more than once?” Herbert asked with disgust. “For heaven’s sake, she’s a dish. No way am I letting her get away from me now!”

  “Well, congratulations, Grandad,” Della said with love in her voice. “I couldn’t be more pleased.”

  “Neither could I,” Chris said loudly.

  “You two enjoy yourselves. Tansy knows this little Japanese place downtown where they have that strange fish. Can’t think what it’s called. Anyway we’re going there for a snack. You kids have fun. Talk to you soon. Bye!”

  He hung up. Della glanced at her husband with a frown. “They’re going to a Japanese place to have a strange fish.”

  Chris went pale. “Not fugu. Please. Tell me it’s not fugu.”

  “What’s a fugu?”

  He grabbed up the receiver and placed a call to Tansy’s apartment. Herbert answered.

  “If you eat a fugu fish, I’ll hire a man to do nothing but follow the two of you around, full-time, I swear it!” Chris said harshly.

  “Fugu? Are you daft, son?” Herbert sighed. “Tansy, what’s the name of that fish?”

  “Sushimi,” she called back.

  Chris went red. “Oh,” he said.

  “Fugu, indeed. He thought we were going to eat fugu fish!” he called to Tansy.

  “He’s on his honeymoon, Herb, what do you expect? Now hang up and come help me get into this dress. We’ll be late for our reservation!”

  Chris laughed until Della was worried about him. When he told her what was going on at the apartment, she only grinned.

  “They’ll be happy together,” she said.

  “Each of them alone is a handful. Can you possibly imagine what it’s going to be like to have two of them conspiring?”

  Della grimaced. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

  “Well, don’t. Not now, anyway.” He picked her up and kissed her gently. “We have six days of our honeymoon left, and we’re not wasting a minute worrying about them.”

  “What are we going to do, then?” she whispered wickedly.

  He chuckled as he turned toward the bed. “I’m glad you asked…”

  So was she.

  ISBN: 978-1-4592-0882-7

  LOVE WITH A LONG, TALL TEXAN

  Copyright © 1999 by Diana Palmer

  GUY

  Copyright © 1999 by Diana Palmer

  LUKE

  Copyright © 1999 by Diana Palmer

  CHRISTOPHER

  Copyright © 1999 by Diana Palmer

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