by Diana Palmer
But she couldn’t help it, and it wasn’t work that worried her. It was Matt. He was marrying her only because he couldn’t have her any other way, because the family was so close-knit. But what would it be like when the newness wore off? Would he go back to Layne? She couldn’t believe he would; Matt always kept his word. But would he be happy with her? The thought tormented her for the rest of the day, leaving her unusually quiet and reserved.
Chapter Eleven
Matt took her to an exclusive Fort Worth jeweler to buy the emerald. Fortunately they arrived during a remounting, so he was able to buy the flawless clear stone and the mounting and have the emerald set at the same time. Not one of the set emeralds in the store would have done for an engagement ring. There was a diamond and emerald wedding band that matched the stone perfectly, so he bought that, too.
Catherine sighed and sighed over the rings, smiling up at Matt with her eyes full of dreams.
“How about a wedding ring for you?” she exclaimed when he paid for hers and said it was time to go.
He smiled indulgently. “If you want me to wear one. As long as it goes on my finger, and not through my nose.”
“I can see me now, leading you around by your nose,” she scoffed.
He ran a lean finger down her pert nose. “Don’t you think you could, honey?” he murmured sensuously.
She averted her eyes. No, she didn’t. Because somewhere in the background was Layne, and that specter hung over her head like a sword.
“What’s wrong?” he asked gently.
“Not a thing,” she murmured, and forced herself to smile.
Matt liked a wide gold band, and since her emeralds and diamonds were set in yellow gold, the two rings matched very well.
“Now it’s official,” he remarked as they drove home. “No more searching looks from the family.”
She leaned her head back against the seat. “It’s all Hal’s fault,” she murmured. “If he hadn’t lied about it…”
“Never mind,” he said pleasantly. “By the time the wedding rolls around, everyone will have forgotten anyway. Do you fancy a short engagement, Kit? I do.”
“You just want to get me into bed,” she grumbled.
His eyes shot to her face. “Is that what you think?” he asked.
“You haven’t made any secret of it, have you?” He drew his gaze back to the road and lit a cigarette. His brows came together as he smoked it. “No, I suppose not,” he said absently. “Maybe I’ll have to change tactics again, Kit.”
That didn’t make sense, but she didn’t question it. She gazed at the long horizon instead, and wondered for the hundredth time if she was doing the right thing.
* * *
Matt’s behavior in the following days didn’t make her any more confident. He suddenly became the friendly companion of the days past, and the tempestuous kisses she’d gotten used to disappeared. Now there was nothing more between them than holding hands and a brush of his lips against her cheek at bedtime. That worried her most of all, that he didn’t seem interested in her physically anymore. Her mind was so occupied with the sale that she’d forgotten the conversation they’d had after they’d bought the rings. Of course, they did talk: about his plans for the ranch; about her own need to be doing something besides collecting dividend checks; about politics and religion and family. She got to know him on a different plane. She got to know him as a person as well as a man, and she loved what she learned. But would he really be interested in her as a person, if all he wanted was her body? It puzzled her, more and more.
* * *
The newspaper ads were out, the invitations accepted and the caterers arrived on schedule with truckloads of food.
Catherine wrung her hands, shooting worried glances in Matt’s direction as the buyers started arriving.
“Stop turning your hair gray,” he chided during a quiet moment. He tugged playfully on a lock of her waving short hair. “Everything’s going great. You’ve done a magnificent job.”
Her wide eyes searched his. “Do you really think so?”
“I really do.” He touched her cheek gently. “After this is over, you and I are going to spend some time together. We have some plans of our own to finalize.”
“It’s been so hectic,” she remarked.
“Yes.” He touched his mouth to her forehead. “Want to come down to the auction?”
She shook her head. “I’ve got too much to do here. See you later.”
He winked. “Save me some barbecue. These cattlemen eat the way they spend money.”
“Don’t you hope.” She laughed.
His dark eyes beheld her radiant face. Her green eyes were like dew-kissed grass, her complexion all peaches and cream in its frame of chestnut hair. She was wearing a floral sundress with a halter top and she looked gorgeous.
“I’ve never seen anything as lovely as you look right now,” he said quietly. “Beautiful little Kit, you’ve done a lot of growing up since you’ve come home.”
She smiled at him. “Aren’t you pleased?” she asked. “I was a thorn in your side for a while there.”
He shook his head. “Never a thorn in my side. In my heart, maybe,” he said enigmatically. “See you, pretty girl.” He turned and strode off toward his buyers, dignified and urbane in his expensive light denim suit and his boots and Stetson, towering over the other men. He looked as Western as a spur, and Catherine’s eyes adored him. With a sigh, she turned away and got back into organizing the tables.
The sale lasted until well after dark, with the last of the barbecue being divided equally among the lingering out-of-town cattlemen. Catherine felt very proud of the outcome. Matt had sold all his purebreds except for one lone heifer, and he wasn’t complaining about that. A Western band played waltzes, and some of the men who’d come with their wives were dancing lazily to the music.
Matt finished off a neat whiskey and smiled down at Catherine. “Feel like dancing?” he asked.
He’d taken off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, and he looked as wickedly male as a movie star. Catherine went into his arms without a word, loving the feel of his hard, strong body against her. She slid both her hands around his waist and up his back to let them flatten on his shoulder blades.
“Was it a success?” she asked tiredly.
“Very much a success,” he agreed. “Have you seen anything of the family?”
“Mother’s around somewhere with Barrie and Jerry. Mother was hostessing while I ate. Hal and Angel were here for a while, but I think they’ve gone.”
“The band will go soon,” he murmured. “And I’ve already said my goodbyes. So suppose,” he added under his breath, drawing her closer, “you and I find a nice dark spot and make love until we can’t stand it anymore?”
Her body tingled. “Could we?” she whispered.
He went rigid for a minute. “I thought you were tired of all that,” he said, lifting his head. “You seemed to have the idea that it was the only thing on my mind.”
“We are engaged,” she murmured, dropping her eyes. “And you haven’t touched me for days.…”
Suddenly he caught her hand and led her off, away from the crowd, into the study by way of the patio. He left her standing by the open window, and without turning on a light, he went and locked the door.
“What are you doing?” she asked as he came back to her, stripping off his shirt on the way.
“Striking a blow for male domination,” he said under his breath. He caught her to him, and before she realized what he intended, he had stripped the halter of her dress down to the waist and pulled her against his hard, warm chest.
“Matt!” she gasped.
“God, that’s good,” he breathed. He moved her against him, letting her feel the crisp hair on his chest, rough against her taut breasts. “Lift up.”
She slid her arms hesitantly around his neck and went on tiptoe, throbbing with hunger. He half lifted her, so that she was against him, breast to breast, hip to hip, thig
h to thigh.
“Now,” he whispered, holding her there so that it felt as if an electric current joined them. “Now, we dance.”
But it was more like making love. She clung, feeling the roughness of his skin against her own, loving the intimate contact of their bodies. Her breath caught in her throat as she moved lazily to the beat with him, loving the feel of his lean, callused hands against her bare back, the sound of his voice whispering in her ear.
“I love touching you, Kit,” he said softly. “I love the way my body throbs when it feels yours this way.”
“I never dreamed anything would be so sweet,” she confessed, pressing soft kisses against his collarbone, his bare shoulder.
“Do it here, honey,” he whispered, shifting so that he could press her face against a hard male nipple.
She looked up at him, questioning.
“Men like it, too,” he said, smiling as he coaxed her mouth down to him.
She remembered how he’d done it with his whole mouth, his teeth, his tongue and that was how she did it. He stiffened and caught the back of her head, forcing her closer. She drew him into her mouth, and he groaned roughly and shuddered.
“Matt,” she whispered. Her hands adored him as she moved to the other side of his chest and repeated the seductive touch. Her lips learned him slowly, sweetly, from his collarbone to the thick muscles at his narrow waist, and he trembled.
“Oh, can’t we lie down?” she whispered achingly, looking up at him with eyes that smoldered.
“If we do, I’ll take you,” he said unsteadily. “Can’t you feel what’s happening to me?”
She could, and she delighted in the knowledge that she could rouse him so easily.
“You said you wanted babies,” she reminded him in a husky, aching tone.
“I do,” he said, his voice rough with passion. “I want you, too. But not like this.”
He caught her waist and moved her gently away from him, letting his eyes feast on her bareness. “So pretty,” he whispered, touching the hard tips of her breasts with reverent hands, then rubbing them with his thumbs so that she gasped. “Mauve and cream. Kit…”
He bent and opening his mouth on them, tasted them in a silence that blazed with helpless longing.
“Please,” she whispered, eyes closed, body yielding. “Please.”
He scooped her up in his arms, looked down at her with dark, frightening passion in his eyes, his face. His arms trembled; his eyes ate her. “It won’t be perfect this time,” he said in an uneven tone. “I may hurt you.”
“I don’t care,” she moaned, reaching up to find his mouth and tease it with hers. “I want to belong to you all the way.”
She shuddered. His mouth opened on hers. “I want it, too,” he whispered. “I want to show you how bodies join, lock together like two living puzzles. I want that intimacy with you. Only with you. Kit, Kit, I haven’t had a woman in so long.…” He moaned against her hungry mouth.
The kiss was endless, and during it he began to move toward the sofa. At first it only registered vaguely, what he’d said about its being so long. But surely he’d had Layne? Her dizzy mind went under in a blaze of fire so hot that her skin felt inflamed by it; her arms trembled as they held him. And somewhere in the distance, someone was calling his name.…
He stopped at the sofa, shuddering still. He listened, frowning. “Hal,” he bit off.
Her fingers touched his face. “Don’t answer him,” she whispered urgently, shamelessly. She wanted him so much it was almost a pain.
“I have to,” he said huskily, “or he might walk in on us.”
He put her down gently, his hands reluctant as they left her. With a muffled curse, he lifted his head. “What is it, Hal?” he yelled.
There was a pause. “Mr. Murdock needs to confirm something!”
Matt consigned Mr. Murdock to the fiery reaches, but even as he muttered, he was buttoning his shirt and tucking it back into his slacks. “I’m coming!” he yelled.
Catherine stood helplessly as he turned and looked down at her. He lifted the bodice back into place and fastened it behind her neck.
“I’m sorry,” he said gently. “It’s just as bad for me as it is for you, maybe worse.”
“Want a whiskey?” she asked softly.
He laughed. “You didn’t knock me completely off balance—not so far, anyway,” he murmured. “I’ll survive. But I could use that whiskey.”
She turned on the light and fetched him a shot glass full. Handing it to him, she looked up at his tousled dark hair and swollen mouth. She looked as disheveled herself. He took the glass and downed the amber liquid.
“Thanks.” He handed it back, loving her with his dark eyes. “One day it will happen,” he said then. “One day, I won’t be able to draw back. If Hal hadn’t called me just now, we’d already be in too deep to stop.”
“I know,” she whispered, looking up with her regret clear in her eyes. “It was never that bad before.”
“It gets worse, honey,” he replied. His face was solemn now, serious. “It’s now or never, Catherine. We have to get married soon.”
She frowned, uncertain. “Matt…what about Layne?” she asked gently.
“Matt!” Hal yelled again.
Matt sighed impatiently. “We’ll talk about it later,” he said, bending to kiss her, very softly. “Wait up for me.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” she replied, touching his mouth with her fingers.
“Well, you may have a point,” he agreed ruefully. “We’ll talk tomorrow, then.”
She nodded. “Good night.”
“Good night, little one.” He smiled at her, turned and went out. Catherine stared after him for a long, long time before she could get her legs to take her upstairs.
So now there was no more time. She either married him or ran. She went to sleep wondering which was the more sensible.
Chapter Twelve
The bright sun streamed into the dining room, and Catherine found herself eating breakfast alone. Betty was still sound asleep. Hal and Matt had gone to work. It was curious that Matt hadn’t waited for her, she thought, especially after last night. She could feel her cheeks burn at just the memory of how it had been, how close they’d come. And if she’d been stupid enough to let it happen, how would she be feeling now? Matt would have no choice but to marry her. Did he really want that kind of commitment? Or did he just have a hunger for her that was so strong that he wasn’t rational anymore?
The more she thought about it, the more worried she became. She got up and paced, hating her inactivity. She’d gotten used to going into the office every morning, but now the sale was over and she’d worked herself out of a job. Dressed in jeans and a yellow tank top, she wandered around the house like a lost soul. Soon it would be autumn, and how much would her life have changed by then?
Should she marry Matt and take a chance? Or should she go on to New York? She was at the point of tossing a coin. So much was at stake. She loved him, now more than ever. She wasn’t sure anymore that she had enough willpower to walk away from him. At least he still wanted her. Wasn’t that enough to start with?
The sudden opening of the front door startled her. She whirled around in the hall, wide-eyed, to find Matt standing just inside the screen door.
“Good morning,” she said hesitantly. She felt shy with him all of a sudden, girlish.
“Good morning,” he replied. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes.”
He held out his hand. “Come for a ride, Catherine.”
She took the outstretched fingers, letting him lock them with hers, and followed him out into the warm sunshine.
“Where are we going?” she asked when he’d put her into the front seat of the Lincoln and climbed in behind the wheel.
“To the Comanche Flats airstrip. From there we fly to the Dallas-Fort Worth airport.”
“And from there?” she persisted.
“We aren’t going anywhere. We’re going to meet some
body there.”
“Oh.” She felt vaguely disappointed. She liked shooting off into the sky with Matt, but this short hop seemed less than thrilling. She fingered the leather upholstery. “Did you arrange for all those shipments?” she murmured.
“From the sale?” He nodded. He lit a cigarette, glancing at her curiously with his black, black eyes. He took a draw on the cigarette and stared ahead at the long highway. “Catherine, about last night…”
And here it comes, she told herself, stiffening. He was going to apologize for what had happened. Or admit that he’d suddenly realized he couldn’t go through with the wedding. Or…
“I didn’t sleep much,” he continued quietly. “I’ve been thinking about us. About the way this engagement happened.”
“If you want to call it off…” she began hesitantly.
He glanced at her. “Is that what you want, honey?” he asked gently. “What you really want? Have I pushed you into a corner?”
She studied his hard face. Yes, here it is. Her chance to escape. To be free. She gnawed on her lower lip. Why was it so hard to say the words?
“You don’t have to say it,” he said then. “I think I understand how you feel. I haven’t really given you a chance to make up your own mind, to sort out how you feel about me. Catherine, if you’d rather not marry me, I’ll let you go—to New York, if that’s what you want.”
He looked strange this morning. Hard-eyed and stiff and unapproachable. “How do you feel about it?” she asked.
He laughed curtly and took another draw on the cigarette. “We’re not discussing me.”
“No, we never do,” she said abruptly, glaring at him. “I never know how you feel or what you think. You’re a stranger half the time.”
“How can I be anything else at this point?” he asked, glancing at her pointedly. “You’re as much a clam as I am.”
She started to speak but closed her mouth on a heavy sigh. She didn’t know what he wanted, but she had a cold feeling that he’d had second thoughts.
“If I asked you to let me break the engagement?” she probed.
“I would,” he replied.
