by Diana Palmer
“Yes.” He laughed coldly. “He had an adoring stepfather, didn’t he?” He finished the cigarette and tossed it off the porch. “He and Jerry.”
“You were almost a grown man when your mother remarried,” she began gently.
“Thank God. I didn’t have to endure watching her fawn over him.”
She’d never realized how it must have been for Matt, who worshipped his father. She stared up at him with understanding shining like a beacon in her green eyes. No, Matt had never been loved. But she could love him, if only he’d let her. If he’d just forget Layne.…
The memory moved her eyes down to his unbuttoned shirt, to hair-roughened olive skin that looked even darker against the white cotton fabric. Layne.
“I thought you had to spend several days in Dallas,” she said then.
“I did. I do. But after I spoke to Betty, I flew straight here. I wanted to make sure Hal hadn’t killed you.”
Bitterness in his voice, and anger. Her eyes glanced off his. “Well, he hasn’t. Won’t Layne be lonely?” she added sharply.
“Maybe I’m lonely, too,” he said deeply, and smiled mockingly as her head came up and her wide eyes were caught and held by his. “That shocks you, does it, Catherine?” he continued, watching her.
“You aren’t my idea of a lonely man,” she countered.
“I have the occasional woman,” he agreed blatantly. “But I don’t spend my life in bed, Kit. There’s more to a relationship than just sex.”
Of all the things she might have expected him to say, that was the very last. “What with the variety you keep around you, I could be forgiven for doubting you,” she replied.
“You don’t sleep around,” he murmured softly.
“Maybe I do, and I’m just putting on an act for you,” she returned hotly, hating the vulnerability he was making her feel.
His chiseled lips drew up in a mocking smile. “Are you?” He moved a step closer. “There’s an easy way to find out, Kit,” he said in a voice like velvet. “Suppose I asked you to prove it to me?”
“I won’t sleep with you!” She backed away, glaring.
“I haven’t asked you,” he reminded her. “Nervous, Kit? All shaky with anticipation? I could make you go down on your knees and beg, and you know it.”
“I am not fair game for your misplaced hunting instincts,” she shot at him. “Kindly save your amorous exhibitions for the real estate agent from Laredo!”
“Amorous exhibitions?” he mimicked, his eyebrows arching. “My, my, aren’t we verbose tonight. Are you sure it was your wrist you sprained and not your tongue, honey?”
“There is nothing wrong with my tongue,” she returned.
“Not when you put it in the right place,” he agreed in a voice that melted her knees and brought back vivid memories of his own tongue tangling with hers.
“I want to go to bed,” she blurted out.
“So do I, baby,” he murmured, his dark eyes wandering hungrily over her body. “Eager little thing, aren’t you, Kit?”
“Damn it, Matt!”
“There, there, you’ll blow a fuse,” he teased. She started to turn, but catching her by the waist, he moved her right up against his warm, muscular body. He smelled of cologne and soap, and the smell drugged her, making her vulnerable. His steely fingers bit into her waist, holding her. “How’s it going at work?” he asked, his lips close to her forehead.
“Everything’s…fine.”
“Good. I have to fly back to Dallas tonight, and I won’t be home again for three days or so. Stay out of Hal’s way until I come back,” he added firmly. “No more adventures.”
She wasn’t going off with Hal again anyway, but she didn’t like his commanding tone. “I’m an adult now. I can do what I please.”
“Now, where have I heard that before?” he asked dryly.
“Matt…!”
His hand tangled in her hair and held her face up to his. “When I get back,” he whispered with his mouth poised over hers, “I’m going to make wild, passionate love to you, Kit. I’m going to throw you down on a bed and strip you to the waist and teach you how to make soft, sweet little noises in my ear.”
Her heart went crazy. She stared up at him, heart lodged in her throat, eyes hungry, body feverish.
Suddenly he bent her backward—her hair reached toward the floor—and with a wicked, mischievous laugh, made her wait for the slow, lazy descent of his mouth. Held in that off-balance position, she was all too aware of his strength, of his masculinity. His mouth opened her lips, felt them tremble and part; he felt her body go soft, her arms go around him. And he laughed deep in his throat and teased her lips until she moaned.
Then he straightened, bringing her with him, and let her try to reach him, let her stand on tiptoe, trying to find his mouth.
“Oh, no,” he whispered with a soft laugh. “Not tonight.” He held her arms down by her sides and brushed a lazy kiss against her cheek. “Go to bed, Kit, and dream of me.”
“I won’t!” she whispered huskily, her eyes accusing as she drew away from him, frustrated and embarrassed.
“You will.” He pulled another cigarette from his pocket. “Maybe I’ll dream about you, too.”
“With Layne in tow? Fat chance!” She whirled and started inside.
“Kit.”
She turned and glared at him, her face red. “What?”
“I might be as vulnerable as you are—did you ever consider that?” he asked quietly.
She tried to speak, failed, and quickly went into the house before she could be frightened by the implications of what he was saying. He was just playing, she reminded herself. Just killing time, amusing himself. And afterward he’d go running back to Layne, who was older and sophisticated and fit into his world. And if she had any sense at all, she’d remember that.
Chapter Seven
Matt left later that evening. Hal didn’t say another word to his brother. He went to bed early and didn’t show his face the whole of the next day.
“He worries me.” Betty sighed the following day as she finished her lunch and poured a second cup of coffee for Catherine, who was taking her lunch hour at home instead of going out with the office girls.
“Who?”
“Hal,” her mother replied. “He isn’t himself lately.”
“He’s just miserable, that’s all,” Catherine told her. “He isn’t happy with what Matt’s making him do.”
“Poor Hal. I’m sorry for him, but nobody wins against Matt. I just hope Hal doesn’t go back to his old ways and start trying to get back at Matt. He used to pull some of the most horrible tricks. Oh, well, maybe I’m worrying for nothing.” She smiled at Catherine. “How’s it going at the office?”
“Very well,” the younger woman replied, smiling back. “I’ve just gotten the programs compiled. I let Angel check them to make sure I hadn’t done anything unforgivable. Now I’m going to get some ads ready for the newspapers, and some radio spots, and I’m going to compose a letter to send to selected buyers. Then I have to organize a barbecue.…”
“It sounds so complicated!” Betty said.
“It is. But it will prove to Matt that I’m capable of making my own way,” she replied. “That’s something Hal and I have in common, I suppose. We’re both trapped here by Matt.”
“For vastly different reasons, I imagine,” Betty said enigmatically.
“I doubt that.” Catherine put down her coffee cup. “I hate to, but I have to get back to work. I want to take a minute and call the public realations agency in New York to see if they’ll wait another month for me. It will take at least that long to get this show on the road.”
“Do you think they’ll wait to fill the vacancy?” Betty asked.
Catherine shrugged. “I don’t know. I hope so,” she said wistfully. “But you know how Matt is when he digs in his heels. I have to prove myself to him.”
“Maybe he’s just trying to make sure you know what you’re doing. He doesn’t
think you’d be happy in New York.”
“Well, I’ll never find out from here, will I?” came the exasperated reply. “Honestly, sometimes I think Matt just has an overdeveloped sense of responsibility. But he’s got to let go sometime!”
“Yes. I suppose so.” But Betty didn’t sound enthusiastic herself.
“I’ll write you,” her daughter coaxed. “And phone you. I’ll come home on holidays.”
“It won’t be the same. And who’ll make Matt smile? He never does except for you. When you’re away, he’s a different man.”
That puzzled Catherine. She’d wondered for a long time about the stranger who appeared from time to time, the hard-faced man with the cold eyes. That wasn’t her Matt.
“Have to run, darling,” she told her mother. “My computer awaits without.”
“Without what?” Hal asked from the doorway, all eyes.
“Without a program, that’s without what,” Catherine teased. “Feeling better?”
“Not really, but it’s stifling up there alone. What’s to eat?”
“Egg salad, dear,” Betty said, offering him the plate of sandwiches.
“My favorite.” He glanced at Catherine in her neat blue suit. “Who are you dressed up for?”
“The other girls,” she offered. “They all dress this way. Sort of office custom.”
“Yes, I’ve seen Angel.” He sighed. “Nice-looking lady.”
Her eyes sharpened. “Do you think so?”
“Don’t get ideas,” he said curtly. “I just like the way she looks, that’s all.”
“I didn’t say a word!”
Betty excused herself to get some coffee, and Hal put his sandwich on his plate and looked at Catherine.
“Does Matt make a habit of kissing you like he did night before last?” he asked abruptly, then nodded at her shocked expression. “Yes, I saw. I was on my way back out to make a stand and got the wind knocked out of my sails. Is he trying to put the make on you, Catherine?”
She had to fight for the right words. “He was only teasing.”
“It didn’t look like teasing to me.”
“Well, it was. So don’t start any duels on my behalf. And don’t worry Mama with it, either!” she continued, nervous now because of the way he was watching her.
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” he agreed.
He looked smug all at once, and she stared at him curiously.
“Isn’t it a beautiful day?” he asked merrily. “I feel much better already. Hadn’t you better get to work?”
“Yes, I suppose so,” she said absently. “Goodbye, Mama!” she called.
“Goodbye, dear,” Betty said with a smile as she rejoined Hal. “Have a nice day.”
“Of course,” Catherine answered, but there was something about Hal’s attitude that made the words into a lie. She didn’t like having Hal know that Matt had kissed her. He might find a way to turn the knowledge into a weapon in his unending war with his older brother. She wasn’t sure what he might do or say, and she went back to the office with butterflies in her stomach.
She called the Bryant Agency in New York to check on the job, and found that she didn’t have to worry. There wasn’t really a job to lose. They were creating one just for her on the basis of her degree, her résumé and the glowing description given them by her college friend, whose father was one of the agency executives. She came away feeling much better. Except that she knew for a fact that Matt was going to be stubborn about it; she knew, and she wasn’t looking forward to the battle.
There was a chance that Matt would relent when he saw how capable she was. But she had to get through the next month, and she was expecting that Matt would use every weapon he had to get his own way—including the teasing, ardent manner he’d adopted with her lately. That was the most frightening of all because she had no resistance. And how could she survive living with him, watching him with women like Layne, always aware of the fact that she herself was only a passing fancy?
She’d have given anything for Matt’s love, to have him care about her as she cared about him. But he was too much older, too sophisticated to give his wary heart to a little country mouse like Catherine. That hurt most of all—knowing that she hadn’t a chance. It made her even more determined to get away from him.
* * *
Matt was back the next day, and Hal had been disturbingly attentive to Catherine during Matt’s absence. She didn’t like the look in Matt’s eyes. It spelled trouble.
They were watching a recently released movie on the VCR when Matt came home that evening, wearing a khaki leisure suit with cream-colored boots and Stetson. He had the jacket slung over a shoulder, and he was smiling as he stood at the doorway and surveyed the three of them, Catherine, Betty and Hal.
“How cozy,” he remarked dryly. “Just like the old days. No date, Hal?”
“Who needs a date?” Hal returned, glancing at Catherine. “The scenery’s just great right here.”
Catherine was watching Matt’s face, and she saw it go hard when he heard the innuendo. Even Betty’s enthusiastic greeting didn’t bring a smile to his rigid features.
“Did you get your property?” Betty asked.
“I got it,” he returned. He tossed his jacket onto a nearby chair and sat down between Hal and Catherine on the sofa, then crossed his long legs as he carelessly lit a cigarette. “How’s my sale going?” he asked Catherine, sliding a casual arm behind her head.
“Very well,” she said in a subdued tone, aware of Hal’s probing stare beyond Matt’s broad chest. She was jittery, and her voice showed it. “I, uh, just took the program to the printer’s today.”
“Without my approval?”
“Angel looked it over to make sure it was all right,” she said. “We didn’t dare wait, or we’d never get them out on time.”
“Let’s go over to the office,” he said. “I want to check it before it goes to press.”
“All right.”
“How about some company?” Hal asked pointedly, rising.
Matt glared at him. “How about watching your damned movie?” he returned. “This is business.”
“Oh, for sure,” Hal replied mockingly.
Matt scowled, and Betty was openly staring at the three of them, her eyes as puzzled as Matt’s. Only Hal and Catherine understood what was going on, and Catherine was afraid of what Matt’s young brother might say next.
Hal relented all at once, laughing softly as he dropped back down on the sofa. “Okay, but don’t be gone long,” he joked. “I want Catherine home by midnight.”
Matt’s eyes darkened, narrowed, and his very stance spelled trouble. “Are you trying to say something, little brother?” he asked curtly.
“Who, me?” Hal asked innocently. “Heavens, no.”
Betty had turned back to her movie with a sigh, too confused to listen anymore. Catherine felt pale, and her knees were weak, both from Hal’s odd behavior and from the thought of being alone at the office with Matt. Any stolen minute with him was gold, and she’d dreaded the thought that Hal might rob her of those precious seconds.
“Then let’s go,” Matt told Catherine, standing aside to let her leave the room ahead of him.
She didn’t look back, although she heard Hal’s amused laughter as they went out of the room and into the hall. She felt chilly despite her jeans and long-sleeved white T-shirt, and she folded her arms over her breasts as they went out into the cool night air.
“Hal’s in a strange mood,” Matt remarked. He caught her hand as they walked, and locked her fingers into his.
She felt herself melt at the warm, rough pressure of his big hand over her small one, and involuntarily moved closer to his side. “Yes.”
“Do you know why?”
She did, but she was too embarrassed to tell him what Hal had seen. “He’s just being himself,” she hedged.
“He’ll do it once too often,” came the curt reply. He looked down at her, watching her loosened hair catch the night a
ir and blow around her face. “You look very young, Kit.”
“Do I scare you off, old man?” she asked with a laugh, glancing up at him as they reached his Lincoln.
“If you come down to the office with me, it might be the other way around,” he murmured seductively, jerking her by the hand so that she came right up against his warm, hard-muscled body. “I might scare you off, honey.”
Wary of Hal’s keen eyes, perhaps watching, she edged away from him. “Might you?”
Her sudden withdrawal seemed to puzzle him. Anger him. He dropped her hand and opened the door of the Lincoln for her. Without another word or a second glance, he walked around to his side, got in, started the car and headed down to the office.
The building was dark when they arrived. She followed him inside as he turned on the lights and strode into his office. He was ominously silent, until he suddenly whirled on his heel and pierced her with his dark, cool eyes.
“Let’s have it,” he said curtly. “Why the sudden ice-maiden act back there?”
She might have told him the truth if he hadn’t slung his question at her, but his possessive tone, as well as his arrogance, stung. He’d been in Dallas for three days with his precious Layne, and now he was scolding Catherine for not being grateful enough for the crumbs he threw her.
“What did you expect me to do, throw myself into your arms?” she replied, glaring at him. “Isn’t Layne enough, or are you just hell-bent on new conquests?”
He didn’t move. Seconds later, his hands went to light a cigarette. His eyes went from it to Catherine. “I thought you were learning to trust me,” he said then.
“Trust doesn’t have anything to do with it,” she shot back. She folded her arms across her chest. “You expect too much, Matt. I’m not part of your estate.”
“Pity,” he said softly, taking a draw on the cigarette. “You’d be the crowning glory, even in jeans and a T-shirt.”
She flushed. He had charm all right, but she’d be crazy to take him seriously. So she laughed. “Think so?”
He smiled, too, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They seemed dull, lackluster. “Let’s see what you’ve come up with on my cattle.”
