His Daughter's Laughter (Silhouette Special Edition)

by Hudson, Janis Reams

  His harsh whisper filled the darkness in his room. Ter- rific. Now she had him talking to himself.

  The next morning he realized he might as well talk to himself, because she sure wasn’t going to let him talk to her. She frustrated his every attempt at apologizing, by the simple method of sticking so close to his dad’s side during breakfast, Tyler would have sworn the two were joined at the hip.

  No. Don’t think about her hips.

  With a frustrated oath, Tyler slammed his hat on his head and left the house. This was shaping up to be the perfect day to repair the gate Prancer had kicked apart yesterday. Tyler was definitely in the mood to pound nails.

  Mostly he was still angry with himself. What he felt regarding Carly’s behavior wasn’t anger, it was fear. Fear that she was withdrawing from him completely. After the way she gave herself to him the night before, he wouldn’t be able to stand the cruel reality of never feeling her sweet warmth again.

  By the time the sun was halfway across the sky, Tyler had repaired the corral gate plus four stalls in the stallion barn. He was shoeing his second horse of the day when a shadow loomed beside him.

  “You headin’ in for lunch?” his dad asked.

  Eat lunch with Carly and his dad? A repeat of breakfast, with her refusing to meet his gaze? Not very damn likely. “Go on without me. I’ll get something later.”

  Worn boots shuffled in the dirt beside him.

  Finally Tyler looked up. “Something besides lunch on your mind?”

  Arthur worked a toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other without benefit of hands. “Funny. I was just getting ready to ask you the same thing.”

  Tyler bent over the hoof he held clamped between his knees. “Meaning?”

  “Oh, I guess I was just wondering if there was anything you wanted to tell me. About last night maybe.”

  Tyler felt his cheeks sting. Dammit all to hell and back in a little red wagon. He couldn’t remember the last time his dad had made him blush. This time, however, embar- rassment was only partly responsible. Most of the flush was due to anger.

  “Oh,” he said imitating his dad’s drawl, “I don’t know. I can’t recall anything I did last night that could even re- motely be considered any of your business.”

  Tyler heard a snort. He wasn’t exactly sure if it had come from Mooser, who’d never cared for having his hooves picked at and hammered on, or if the sound had come from Arthur.

  “Guess that pretty much answers my question,” the old man grumbled.

  “If you say so,” Tyler muttered back.

  “Let’s be blunt.”

  Carly nearly strangled on a mouthful of macaroni and cheese. She’d never liked conversations that started with words like those. Most especially when they came from a man like Arthur Barnett, too shrewd for her peace of mind, and not particularly happy with her presence in his home.

  She didn’t need this. Her nerves were shot, her stomach was churning and she kept playing over and over in her mind the way she’d panicked last night at the thought of Arthur finding Tyler in her bed. The way she’d turned away from Tyler. His parting shot as he’d left.

  He had tried to talk to her at breakfast, but she’d avoided him. She didn’t have much experience with mornings after. Certainly not mornings after a night like she’d spent in his arms. And not after the way they had parted.

  She finished swallowing, then carefully placed her fork on the edge of her plate before looking up to meet Arthur’s piercing gaze. She was tired of his snide comments, tired of him telling her she had to stay one minute, then making her feel like a pariah the next. So, he wanted to be blunt, did he?

  “Go ahead,” she told him. “You usually are.”

  His eyes widened in surprise. “Well, so the kitten has claws, huh? Fine. That’s good. Because I want to know what you’re planning.”

  “About what?”

  “You know about what.”

  “Arthur, I would never presume to even guess what runs through your mind. I’m afraid you’re going to have to spell it out”

  “All right. I want to know how long you’re planning on staying here.”

  “I wish you’d make up your mind. I almost left two weeks ago the day of the picnic, but you stopped me. Now you ask how long I’m staying like you can’t wait to see the last of me. What do you want from me?” she cried, her composure slipping.

  He took a sip of coffee without relinquishing the hold his steady gaze had on her. “I want my granddaughter to be able to talk, and I want my son left alone.”

  For an instant, Carly wondered frantically if Tyler could have put Arthur up to this. Then she dismissed the idea as absurd. Tyler fought his own battles. If he wanted nothing more to do with her, he would tell her. That, she feared, was what he’d been trying to tell her all morning. But he would abhor his father’s interference.

  She steadied herself with a deep breath. “In answer to your question, my agreement with Tyler was that I stay six months, or until Amanda regains her speech, whichever comes first. That’s what he’s paying me for.”

  “Is it?”

  At his cutting remark, sickness churned in her stomach. “Now I know why he offered me so much money to come here. He must have known I’d be subjected to this kind of abuse.”

  She scooted her chair back across the floor, stood and threw down her napkin. “Excuse me, but I believe I’ve lost my appetite.” At the door to the living room she stopped and glared at him over her shoulder. “Be glad I care too much about Amanda to leave before my job is done. As much as Tyler is paying me, it’s not nearly enough to put up with you.”

  Like a coward, Carly hid in her room until she heard Arthur leave the house. She waited another ten minutes for good measure, then started down the stairs. Halfway down, she heard the pickup roar to life, followed by the sound of tires crunching gravel.

  She dashed to the back door in time to see Arthur driving off toward town. She nearly slumped in relief. For a moment she’d feared Tyler had gone to pick up Amanda and left Carly alone with his father.

  Instead Arthur had gone, leaving her alone on the ranch with his son. The rest of the men wouldn’t be back from wherever they’d spent the night until late that evening. Nothing to be relieved about, after all, she realized.

  But Tyler was busy somewhere outside, so she felt rel- atively safe. She set aside a plate of food for him should he want it later, and was halfway through loading the lunch dishes into the dishwasher when the back door creaked open.

  Her nerves screamed in protest. She wasn’t ready to face Tyler yet. She didn’t have any idea what to say to the man who had turned her world inside out with a kiss, the man she wanted to make love with again so badly she ached.

  He crossed the room, spurs jingling, boots thudding on the floor, until he stood just on the other side of the open dishwasher door. “Are you shutting me out?”

  Slowly and with great effort, Carly forced herself to meet Tyler’s gaze. His expression was hard and closed, his eyes fierce. So much pride, she thought. And she’d shoved it in his face last night, all because of the sound of a pickup door slamming.

  With the toe of his boot he nudged the dishwasher door closed and moved closer, placing his hands on her shoul- ders. “I won’t let you shut me out,” he told her. “Not after last night, Carly. I can’t.”

  Carly squeezed her eyes in relief. He didn’t hate her for the way she’d turned him away. “I’m sorry,” she whis- pered, emotion making her voice break. “I didn’t mean to act that way last night. I heard your dad coming and I got scared. I…got stupid. I didn’t mean…”

  “Hush.” His hands flexed on her shoulders. “No more.”

  “I didn’t mean to send you away like that.”

  “I didn’t mean to leave you the way I did, either. I…ah, damn.” He pulled her to his chest and claimed her lips. “I’ll never get enough of you. Never.”

  He was sweaty and gritty and his clothes smelled like horse. Carly di
dn’t care. She wrapped her arms around him and held on, letting herself sink into, his kiss.

  He trailed his mouth along her jaw and down her throat. She arched her neck, offering herself to him. “Your dad,” she said with a gasp as he nipped slightly with his teeth. “Where… when—”

  His lips fastened to her throat, Tyler cupped one breast in his palm and gently squeezed. “He went to town to get Amanda.” He nudged his hips against hers, letting her feel how ready he was to take things well beyond a kiss. “It’ll take him at least an hour.”

  His free hand swept up beneath the back of her T-shirt, sending shivers along her spine. “Then we have time to…go upstairs?”

  When he raised his head, his eyes were practically glow- ing. “How shy are you?” he asked with a sudden grin.

  His thumb flicking across her nipple made her gasp. “Less and less shy by the minute.”

  “Good.” He kissed her eyelids, then traveled down one cheek to her mouth. “Because I don’t think I can make it up the stairs in the shape you’ve got me in.”

  Before she knew what he was about, he lifted her and sat her on the counter, then nudged his way between her thighs until he nestled close and snug, his hardness against the softness that craved him.

  Once more, his mouth left hers and trailed down her throat. This time he didn’t stop there. With a boldness that made every nerve ending in her body tingle, he kissed his way to her breast. Through T-shirt and bra, he took the tip in his mouth.

  Carly groaned at the exquisite tugging that stretched from his lips through her nipple, straight down some invis- ible wire to her very core. She wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled him closer, wringing a moan from deep in his chest that set her blood on fire.

  Frantic to feel more of him, she yanked his shirttail free of his jeans and ran her hands underneath, up the smooth hardness of his sleek back. His skin was hot and damp beneath her eager fingers.

  With a hand to her hips, Tyler pulled her even closer and ground himself against her. Carly felt her world start to slip. The sensation, the throbbing heat, built to an almost unbearable level. She threw her head back and gasped for breath. “Tyler, I—”

  “Well, my dear, it looks as though we’re interrupting.”

  Carly jerked. Shocked and embarrassed to her soul, she opened her eyes and felt the blood drain from her face.

  Tyler flinched at the intrusion. He felt Carly try to squirm free of his hold, but his brain was too fogged with heat to let go quickly. He’d be damned for all eternity if he’d jerk away as though caught doing something indecent in his own frigging kitchen. It took every last drop of his control to raise his mouth from Carly’s breast. Even then, all he could do was turn his head and rest it on her shoulder while he gasped for breath and stared at his former in-laws stand- ing in the doorway.

  In his arms, Carly trembled violently. The four-letter word that left his lips was graphic and one he didn’t nor- mally use in mixed company, but for Tyler, in that moment, nothing else would do. It rang sharp and clear across the room.

  “Yes,” Howard Tomlinson said with raised brows. “It seems the two of you were about to do just that”.

  Tyler turned his face into Carly’s neck, trying to keep from screaming in outraged frustration and fury. “God, Carly, I’m sorry. Some people obviously don’t have the manners God gave a goat.”

  “Carly?” came Earline’s cool, hard voice. “This is the woman you hired, to take care of our granddaughter? Just what else, might I ask, are you paying her for?”

  “And speaking of our granddaughter,” Howard said coldly, “I do hope she isn’t often exposed to this type of public display of animalistic mating.”

  Tyler ground his teeth and took a slow, deep breath. With measured care, he raised his head from Carly’s shoulder and moved out of the warm cradle of her thighs. The un- timely interruption should have cooled his ardor. Instead he was still so hard he could barely stand up straight.

  One look at Carly’s face told him she’d never been so mortified in her life. Her lips were red and puffy, and the wet spot from his mouth on the front of her T-shirt told its own tale. He ached for the pain of humiliation in her eyes. For a second, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back the rage that threatened to choke him. When he reached up to brush an errant strand of golden chestnut hair from her soft cheek, his hand shook. “In case you haven’t guessed,” he told her with wry tenderness, “this is Howard and Ear- line Tomlinson, Amanda’s grandparents.”

  Carry felt a bubble of hysteria rise to her throat. What the hell was she supposed to say, “Nice to meet you”? Oh, God, oh, God. One instant she’d been anticipating run- ning her hand down inside the front of Tyler’s jeans, and…and the next…oh, God.

  Tyler stepped away, depriving her of his warmth, his protective presence, and turned to face the couple at the door. The sheer fury in his eyes shook her. She’d never seen a person so absolutely livid.

  If nothing else, the very softness of his voice, the precise way he pronounced each word, the careful way he drew in his breath should have told the world he was ready to rip someone apart with his teeth when he said to the Tomlin- sons, “We’ll accept your apology now.”

  While his voice made Carly shiver, both Tomlinsons ap- peared immune.

  “My apology?” Howard Tomlinson obviously thought the words were meant for him alone.

  “For barging into my home unannounced, uninvited. And for your viciously rude crack about Carly.”

  “I do notice,” Tomlinson said, “that you haven’t both- ered to answer the question.”

  Tyler’s fists clenched at his sides. “Crap like that doesn’t deserve an answer. What are you doing here?”

  The tall, thin man in the obviously custom-made Euro- pean suit raised his chin, looking for all the world like a disdainful king peering down upon his lowly subjects. A full head of silver hair over a long narrow face with pred- atory eyes only added to the illusion. “We came to see our’ granddaughter. Where is she?”-

  A muscle along Tyler’s jaw bunched; his nostrils flared. “She spent the night in town with her cousins. Dad’s gone to pick her up. You probably passed him on the road.”

  Earline Tomlinson, in her winter white wool slacks and sweater, her neck undoubtedly straining to hold up the heavy weight of a full-half-dozen gold chains, stepped for- ward with a stiff spine. “You let a child with her obvious emotional problems spend the night away from home?”

  Eyes narrowed, Tyler advanced on her. “Where the hell was all this concern about her emotional problems a few months ago, when you insisted on taking her to some damned ear, nose and throat specialist instead of getting her the counseling she needed, Grandma?”

  Carly could tell by the way he said that last word that he’d done it to irritate Mrs. Tomlinson. She could tell by the way the woman’s mouth pinched that he’d hit his mark. The woman was generally referred to as Amanda’s grand- mother, not grandma. To Earline Tomlinson, Carly was sure there was a distinct difference between the two.

  Shivering against the hostility in the air, Carly forced herself to slide off the counter and stand on the floor. The movement drew all eyes to her. She stiffened and took a moment to let her knees steady.

  All she wanted to do was flee. As fast as her legs could carry her. But she couldn’t leave Tyler to face the animosity of his in-laws alone. She moved to stand beside him. His arm came around her waist and gave much-needed support. She felt the tension humming through him.

  Mrs. Tomlinson’s hair was the exact same shining shade of silver as her husband’s. She turned that immaculately groomed head toward Carly with slow deliberation. “This does not concern you. You may go.”

  Against her side, Tyler stiffened. “Don’t—”

  “If it concerns Amanda,” Carly interrupted, “it does concern me.”

  “Not if we have anything to say about it,” Mr. Tomlin- son said, his voice low and threatening.

  “You don’t,” Tyle
r answered bluntly.

  “Please.” Carly licked her lips nervously, her hands shaking, her knees threatening to. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. Would you like to go in the living room and have a seat? I was about to make coffee.”

  “No, my dear, that is most definitely not what you were about to do.” Mrs. Tomlinson’s voice dripped with sar- casm.

  “One more insult, just one more,” Tyler said between clenched teeth, “and I’ll be asking you to leave.”

  “We’re going nowhere without seeing our granddaugh- ter.”

  “Amanda has made incredible progress in the past few weeks,” Carly offered. Damn, she wished her voice would quit quivering. “I’m not sure her seeing you just now is a very good idea.”

  Mr. Tomlinson turned his disdainful gaze on Tyler. “If you do not wish me to insult her, kindly instruct your…employee to remain silent.”

  With a low growl, Tyler surged forward.

  Carly grabbed his arm with both hands. “Tyler, no.”

  Tyler trembled with impotent rage. Never had his lack of sophistication bothered him until that moment. Short of resorting to name-calling, the only method of dealing with the present situation that came to mind was to punch the living daylights out of the bastard before him.

  Carly’s tug on his arm stopped him. Even then, he gave the idea serious thought, but the sound of the old pickup rattling over the rutted road toward the house held him back. That, and the sure knowledge that Carly would prob- ably find some way to blame herself for the situation. Hell, she was probably already doing that. Seething with fury, he kept his gaze locked on Howard.

  Outside, tires ground to a halt, a pickup door slammed, footsteps crunched across the ground. “Don’t recognize the car,” came Arthur’s voice. “Let’s go in and see who’s here. You want me to carry that? Okay, kiddo, suit your- self.”

  As the back door in the mudroom flew open, the Tom- linsons stepped aside and turned toward the kitchen door- way.

  Amanda was the first to enter, with Arthur right behind her.

  “Hey, sweetpea,” Tyler called, hoping his voice sounded welcoming.