The Passionate Lover

by Carole Mortimer

  But if Kyle Whitney didn't like or approve of her he came as something of a shock to her too. She had assumed he would be in his early or mid-twenties, as Kenny was, instead he was in his mid-thirties, hard and cynical, seeming to view everyone and everything through a jaundiced eye. He was also one of the most handsome men she had ever seen, his body lean and muscular in the faded denims and thick shirts he usually wore, his hair almost black although run through with strands of grey, dark brows over piercingly light grey eyes, a hawklike nose, and a mouth that looked as if it should have had a sensual curve to it, but which was habitually set in a thin straight line of disapproval.

  It was set that way now as he continued to look into the fire, and after the way he had verbally attacked her after forcefully entering the cabin she was loath to remind him of her presence, the door bearing evidence of having been repaired, something he would have had little patience with.

  But as if becoming aware of being watched he suddenly turned in her direction, his eyes narrowing in steely acknowledgement as he saw her looking at him in return. He stood up slowly, moving with the natural grace she had come to associate with him. 'Coffee?' he questioned with the minimum of effort she had also learnt was usual for him.

  She sat up, forgetting any idea she might have had of pretending she was still asleep. 'Please,' she nodded acceptance, moving to sit in one of the two chairs placed either side of the fireplace as he handed her a steaming mug of coffee. She drank it thirstily, needing its warmth despite the heat that now permeated the room from the roaring fire.

  Kyle still stood over her, dark and threatening. 'Perhaps now you wouldn't mind answering the question I asked you a short time ago, namely why I had to break my way in here?' he drawled with disdain.

  Shelby couldn't prevent the hot colour that flooded her cheeks, mumbling into her coffee mug.

  'What did you say?' he bit out impatiently.

  She looked up at him with blazing green eyes, her reddish-gold hair falling just below her shoulders in silky waves as she bent her head back. 'I thought you were an animal of some kind,' she repeated resentfully.

  His mouth twisted. 'What kind?'

  She sighed. 'A wolf, or a—a bear. I just didn't know!' she added irritably as he began to smile, a smile full of that contemptuous amusement he viewed her with.

  'We don't have either in this part of Montana,' he told her dryly.

  'Well I wasn't to know that!' she snapped.

  'Lady, you're a walking disaster,' he lowered his long length into the chair opposite her. 'You wandered off to God knows where thinking you could be eaten alive! What are you, stupid, or just plain dumb?'

  'Neither!' she flashed at his derogatory attitude. 'I didn't let you in, did I?'

  'No,' he acknowledged ruefully. 'But if I had been a bear, perhaps a hungry grizzly, maybe I would have found you delectable enough a morsel to stick a paw through the window and drag you outside.'

  Shelby repressed the shiver of revulsion and fear as he put into words what had been going through her mind only minutes earlier, knowing he wanted to frighten her. 'I just forgot to put the shutters up—'

  'They wouldn't have stopped a hungry grizzly.'

  'Then why bother to have them?' she snapped, noticing they were shut now.

  'To keep the warmth in and the cold out,' he mocked her stupidity.

  So that was the reason for the added warmth in the room. She had a feeling this man was always right, that he was never made to feel the fool that she was now. 'How did you find me?'

  'With extreme difficulty!' he rasped grimly.

  Too late she realised her change of subject was even more inflammatory than the original one. Damn the man, couldn't he see she had had a scare? Kenny would have been comforting her by now instead of berating her in this way. 'I'm sorry,' she muttered, resentful of his coldness.

  Kyle looked unimpressed with her apology. 'I've had a dozen men out looking for you ever since Kenny came back to the house and told us what had happened,' he bit out. 'I hope to God they've all had sense enough to go back home!'

  She could see that he had a right to be angry with her, although she hadn't deliberately set out to get lost. She couldn't help wishing it had been one of the other dozen men who had been the one to find her! 'I didn't need you to come looking for me,' she told him quietly. 'I could have found my way once the blizzard calmed down.'

  Contemptuous grey eyes raked over her mercilessly. 'Could you really?'

  'Yes!' Her eyes flashed again.

  He gave her a look that spoke volumes. 'And just when do you expect the blizzard to stop?'

  'I don't know,' she shrugged. 'But I'm sure I could have managed until it did—'

  'You didn't even know where the water supply was!' 'I—'

  'Did you?' he rasped forcefully.

  She had been wondering where he got the water to make the coffee, but she was too proud now to tell him so. 'I can melt snow as easily as you did—'

  'Always supposing you got up enough courage to open the door,' he cut in again with cold derision. 'And I didn't melt the snow. There's a sink over there—'

  'But no taps,' she said hastily. 'I've already looked.'

  'There's a lever just above it,' he told her in a calm voice. 'It will give you all the water you need. It's pumped up from an underground stream.'

  'You seem to know this cabin very well,' Shelby snapped her resentment of his contempt.

  'I should do,' he drawled. 'It's on Double K land.'

  She should have realised that! She had got lost on Double K land, so it stood to reason, with the thousands of acres they owned, that she hadn't wandered off it. She felt even more foolish than ever. 'What is this place?'

  'My men use it during branding, it saves time if they don't have to ride out each day,' he explained with barely concealed impatience for her naiveté.

  She resented his use of the word 'my' men, knew that he and Kenny were joint owners of the ranch. Although Kenny didn't seem to mind that his cousin gave most of the orders, had probably learnt from experience that Kyle was a man who simply didn't take or obey orders from anyone.

  'When can we get out of here?' she asked abruptly.

  He shrugged, very relaxed as he leant back in his chair. 'Your guess is as good as mine.'

  Shelby gave him a sharp look. 'What do you mean?'

  He tilted his head towards the door. 'Hear that?' he quirked dark brows.

  'The wind?' she frowned.

  'The wind,' he nodded mockingly. 'The weather report forecast it will continue all night, possibly during tomorrow too.' He gave her a meaningful look. 'And while the wind keeps howling we keep sitting here.'

  Shelby had gone very pale, swallowing hard. 'You mean we could be—be snowed in here?'

  'I mean we already are snowed in here. Even if another drop of snow doesn't fall we're still stuck.'

  'There's no need to be sarcastic—'

  'There's every need, damn you!' Suddenly the relaxed pose had gone, to be replaced by a man full of fury, a fury that made his eyes glitter dangerously. 'I don't have the time to spare to come chasing after a stupid idiot like you, let alone spend days out here baby-sitting!'

  'Baby-sitting!'

  'You heard me,' he rasped. 'You have no idea how to fend for yourself—'

  'It isn't exactly a wilderness!'

  'No?' He stood up, pulling her roughly to her feet, his calloused hand digging painfully into her nape as he dragged her over to the window to throw back the shutters. 'Look out there,' he ordered through gritted teeth. 'And tell me what it is if it isn't a wilderness.'

  She wanted to protest that he had no right to treat her this way, that even if he didn't like her he could at least treat her with a little respect. But the sight that met her eyes silenced any protests she might have made over his rough handling. Although the wind still raged the snow had stopped falling, and every way that she looked a deep white blanket stretched into the distance, no familiar landmarks in sight, j
ust snow and more snow wherever she looked.

  'I had no idea…' she breathed softly, in awe of the terrifying beauty outside.

  'Of course you didn't,' he scorned, releasing her to resecure the shutters. 'Like I said, you're a complete novice when it comes to surviving in conditions like this.'

  Once again his contempt angered her. 'And I suppose you're an old hand at it?' she challenged recklessly.

  Kyle folded muscled arms across his broad chest. 'Let's put it this way,' he drawled. 'Which one of us, do you think, has the most chance of surviving out here alone?'

  She flushed at his taunt. 'That's an unfair question, you were born here—'

  'Exactly,' he nodded grimly. 'So why don't you just bow to the inevitable and let me make the decisions from now on?'

  'That's something you're good at, isn't it?' she was stung into retorting, not used to being treated as if she had less intelligence than a child. 'Kyle Whitney gives the orders and everyone jumps to obey.'

  His eyes narrowed to steely slits. 'And that bothers you?'

  'No, it doesn't bother me,' she flushed. 'I just don't intend being another of the yes-men you surround yourself with—'

  'Or women,' he drawled mockingly.

  'Or women,' she snapped irritably. 'You chose to come looking for me, I didn't ask you to.'

  'Your sort never asks for anything, Mrs O'Neal,' he bit out contemptuously. 'But they take readily enough when something is offered to them.'

  Shelby stiffened at his intended insult. 'What are you implying I've "taken"?'

  'Kenny sent you the airline ticket to come out here, didn't he?' Kyle reminded scathingly.

  The plane ticket had been in Kenny's letter immediately after he had received her letter telling him she would go out for a visit. It hadn't been something she had asked for or needed, well able to pay her own airfare. But she had seen it as a gesture of Kenny's love. She certainly hadn't thought anyone would view her as a money-grasping mercenary because of it. Kyle Whitney didn't know how wrong he was!

  'You're wrong about me, Mr Whitney—'

  'Am I?' he derided harshly. 'I don't think so. You're a young and attractive widow, and you came out here thinking Kenny would be a gullible meal-ticket.'

  'No—' .

  'Oh yes,' he insisted coldly, his mouth turned back in a sneer. 'When Kenny came back from England extolling the virtues of a beautiful widow I had some misgivings. When he dropped the girl he had been dating since high school because of you I knew I was right to be worried. But I thought time and distance would dull his memory of you, that he would soon get over the infatuation. But you didn't intend for him to do that, did you. Oh no, you wrote to him almost every day—'

  'Twice a week,' she defended indignantly.

  The coldness of his gaze scorned her. 'Whatever. It was enough to ensure that he didn't forget you, and that's the point I'm trying to make.'

  Shelby had never been subjected to such injustice in her life before. Kyle Whitney didn't know the first thing about her, and yet he presumed to be her judge and jury on the insubstantial evidence he had picked up here and there about her. 'Kenny is hardly a child that you need to—'

  'He's two years younger than you are.'

  She hadn't forgotten that fact; it had been one of the reasons she had been reluctant to become involved with him in the first place. But he had easily over-ruled that objection, and once she got to know him she hadn't really thought the two years mattered either. But as far as Kyle Whitney was concerned it was just another black mark against her. And his condemnation was unfair. Kenny had finished with his childhood sweetheart before leaving for London the previous year, and if his cousin didn't know that then it wasn't her fault, Kenny certainly didn't have to tell the older man everything. And she may have written to Kenny twice a week, but he had written much more than that, more like the every day Kyle Whitney had accused her of doing.

  '—although thank God he seems to have gotten over that now,' Kyle rasped.

  Shelby suddenly realised she had been so deep in thought she had missed this last scathing comment. 'Sorry?' she prompted with a frown.

  'You might well look concerned.' The ghost of a smile creased the hard face.

  He was a man who smiled little, she had learnt that over the last few weeks. The only time he seemed to relax was when he was out working with the men on the ranch. 'Could you explain what you just said?' She still frowned, puzzled by what he was trying to tell her.

  He shrugged his broad shoulders. 'Doesn't the fact that Kenny isn't one of the people out looking for you speak for itself?' he drawled.

  Shelby felt her heart give an uncomfortable lurch, watching Kyle with disbelieving eyes as he poured himself another mug of the strong coffee, almost as if he hadn't just dealt her a terrible blow emotionally. 'Is he hurt in some way?' she demanded, concerned.

  Even white teeth gleamed against the mahogany skin as Kyle gave another brief, humourless smile. 'I guess after the way he's been running around after you since you got here it must be pretty difficult for you to accept or understand that he just didn't want to look for you.'

  'Why?' she asked through stiff lips, knowing that no matter how much this man may dislike her, he wouldn't lie to get her out of Kenny's life. But if what he was saying was true…!

  Kyle sipped the coffee. 'The argument you had must have been really something,' he looked at her admiringly. 'Or maybe he was just too disgusted after the way you walked off like that.'

  'But I—'

  'It was a damn fool thing to do,' he growled, the harshness back. 'Even if you were mad at Kenny.'

  'But—'

  'And when we get out of here I'll give you the hiding you deserve for doing it,' he added grimly. 'You might not have been found until the spring.'

  Shelby gave up all effort of trying to defend herself. 'The spring?' she echoed dazedly.

  He looked at her steadily. 'When the thaw comes.'

  She felt herself blanch as his meaning became clear. Although she was also concerned as to how he had got the impression she and Kenny had argued; it simply wasn't true. And yet he said Kenny hadn't helped look for her. She didn't understand any of this.

  CHAPTER TWO

  'Mr Whitney—'

  'I believe Kenny decided days ago it was to be Kyle,' he rasped dismissively, moving with that minimum of movement that was so natural to him. 'Now are you capable of helping me get us something for dinner? If not perhaps you could find some cutlery to put on the table.' He was already engrossed in the contents of the tins in the cupboards over and under the sink.

  'I can cook, Kyle—' She snapped her resentment at his assumption that she didn't know one end of a kitchen from the other.

  'Thank God for small mercies.' He gave her a look that implied he thought she was good for little else.

  Shelby was well aware of how she must appear to him. A little over five feet in height, with gleaming red-gold hair just past her shoulders, a beautiful face dominated by thickly lashed green eyes, her slender figure shown to perfection in the dark green cashmere sweater and tightly fitting denims, he must be cursing the day she had walked into his life, must wish he hadn't come looking for her either!

  'Kyle, about Kenny—'

  'He was on his way to see Wendy when I last saw him,' he dismissed with cruel honesty.

  Wendy Seymore was Kenny's old childhood sweetheart, Shelby knew that, she had even met the other girl on one occasion, an embarrassingly awkward time when Wendy had made no secret of her dislike of Shelby. In the circumstances she hadn't been able to blame the other girl, but she found it hard to believe that Kenny had left her out in the blizzard while he went to visit the other girl on her father's neighbouring ranch. It didn't sound like the Kenny she knew and loved. There had to be a logical explanation for his behaviour. If only she could think of one!

  'Look at this practically, Shelby.' Surprisingly Kyle's voice had softened a little as he noticed her pained preoccupation. 'You've had a free two-
week holiday in Montana. It's more return than a lot of women get.'

  Her mouth firmed. 'If you're implying what I think you are, Mr Whitney,' the formality seemed perfectly fitting in the circumstances! 'I can assure you that I haven't been paid for services rendered!' Two angry spots of colour darkened her cheeks.

  His calculating gaze moved over her with slow thoroughness, from the tip of her gleaming head to the boots on her feet, his eyes darkening as they encountered the latter. 'You should have taken those off,' he bit out accusingly. 'They're wet through! I bet your denims are too,' he added questioningly. 'It's a little difficult to tell when they already fit so—snugly,' he said derisively.

  She knew the disparaging comment was warranted, but when she had done her shopping for this trip back in London these clothes had seemed ideal for the climate while still remaining feminine. She had only realised the absurdity of them when the denims were too tight for her to sit astride the horse Kenny had persuaded her to ride, the boots too high-heeled for her to walk with any degree of composure over the uneven ground of the Double K yards.

  But Kyle was right about the denims being damp, the snow having been up to her thighs in places. Although what he expected her to do about the situation she didn't know. He must be as wet as she was, and neither of them had a change of clothes available. He soon had an answer to that!

  'I suggest you take off your clothes before you catch pneumonia,' he continued at her silence.

  'Certainly not!'

  'And wrap up in a blanket until they dry,' he added over her outraged comment.

  'There aren't any blankets,' she told him with almost triumphant spite.

  With a pitying glance in her direction he moved to the chests that stood beneath the two lower bunks, pulling them out to display more quilts like the one he had placed over her earlier, and also blankets and sheets, enough for all four of the bunk beds.