by Diana Palmer
“Then what do you think is her real background?” Cane asked curtly.
“Think about it,” Mallory replied. “A woman who wanted to insinuate herself into a rich household, without drawing attention to her background, would pretend to know nothing about wealthy people. But underneath, she’d be clued in about how they lived, what they did. She’d know their habits and their tastes. She’d have to, to play up to them. Then she’d bring out those talents, a little at a time, to deepen the mystery and make herself acceptable.”
“You’re reaching,” Tank said shortly. “Gelly’s poisoned you against Morie.”
“I was already headed in that direction,” Mal-lory replied. “She isn’t telling us the truth about her background. I’m sure of it.”
“That doesn’t mean it’s a shady background,” Cane replied. “Vanessa poisoned all of us against women for a while. It’s why we hired Mavie, who isn’t young or beautiful or interested in us. But Morie might be the genuine article.”
“And she might not be,” Mallory said grimly. “I just think we need to keep an eye on her and not trust her too far. Just like any other new hire.”
They had to agree. They’d gone in headfirst, because she seemed sweet and helpful and kind. But it could be an act. They knew from experience how gullible all three of them could be.
“I guess you’re right,” Cane said solemnly.
“I’m always right,” Mallory said, tongue-in-cheek. “I’m the eldest.”
Tank glared at him. “Only by two years. Don’t get conceited.”
Mallory chuckled. “Better get back to work.”
MORIE WAS DISCONCERTED by the argument. She was preoccupied when she went to the tack room to get her bridle and saddle to ride fence. There was a lot of fence on the ranch. She’d never seen so many acres, except on her father’s spread. This was a huge tract of land that made up the ranch property, and it was cross-fenced for miles and miles and miles.
Darby glanced at her as she came out. “Trouble?” he asked gently.
She hesitated. She nodded.
“Mallory again?”
“I started a fight. I didn’t mean to. I was just playing the piano.”
His eyebrows arched. “That was you?” he exclaimed. “I thought it was a record they’d put on!”
She looked down shyly. “I took piano for almost ten years,” she said. “I love to play. Tank, I mean Mr. Kirk, had the score from that movie, August Rush, and when he knew I could play, he asked me to show him. So I did. But then the brothers said I shouldn’t be risking my hands doing manual labor and Mallory, I mean Mr. Kirk, got mad and said I was hired to do ranch work… .”
“I see where this is going,” Darby replied quietly. “It must have been difficult.”
She nodded again and drew in a long breath. “I didn’t mean to start trouble. It was so wonderful to have a piano to play on.” She smiled. “I’ve loved music all my life. I can play classical guitar, too, and I used to carry a guitar with me wherever I went. But you can’t pack a piano around, so I sort of got out of the habit of playing.” She closed her eyes. “I can hear sonatas in my mind, when I go to bed. I never met a classical score that I didn’t love. Especially Debussy…”
“Am I paying you for musical commentary now?” Mallory asked coldly from the doorway.
She started, and almost dropped the saddle. “Sorry, boss. Sorry.” She rushed out the door with the saddle over her shoulder, almost tripped and fell down the steps in her rush.
Darby put out a hand and pulled Mallory around. His blue eyes were blazing. “Lay off,” he said in a menacing tone. “The girl’s had enough for one day.”
Mallory shook off the hand and glared at his foreman. “Don’t push me.”
“Then don’t push her,” Darby said. “Look at her, for God’s sake!”
He didn’t want to, but he did. She was fumbling with the saddle. Her hands were shaking. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. Mallory felt it through his heart, like a knife. He grimaced.
“If I was her, I’d quit right now,” Darby said shortly. “And when she comes back tonight, that’s what I’m going to advise her to do. I know a couple of ranchers who need help… .”
“You’ll keep your mouth shut, or you’ll be the one leaving,” Mallory told him angrily. “Don’t interfere.”
“Then you stop treating her like the black plague” came the short reply. “Honest to God, what’s wrong with you? I’ve never seen you treat a kid like that!”
“She’s no kid,” Mallory said angrily. “She’s a woman.” He knew it far better than Darby.
“Well, maybe so,” he conceded. “Still, she’s twice the woman that blond headache you take around with you is,” he told the boss. “You’re letting her warp your idea of Morie. She’s making you suspicious. Now you’re picking holes in everything Morie does. All because you and your brothers were taken in by Vanessa Wilkes. It’s your pride, hurting and making you suspect everybody. Even poor old Harry. He never stole that drill. Your girlfriend was in the bunkhouse just before she told you she’d seen him take it. She framed him, and you let her.”
“That’s enough,” Mallory said. He looked dangerous. “He was guilty.”
“He wasn’t, but he knew he’d never convince you as long as Gelly was around. Now she’s trying to do the same to Morie, to make you run her off.” He straightened. “I’ve seen good people and I’ve seen bad people. I warned you about Vanessa and you wouldn’t listen. Now I’m telling you, Morie isn’t like that. She’s pure gold. If you aren’t careful, you’ll ruin her life. Maybe your own, too.”
“She’s not what she seems,” Mallory said.
“Who is?” Darby smiled gently. “But she’s not devious. She’s running from something. I don’t know what. But she had no idea how to do ranch work, I’ll tell you that.”
“What!”
“She was desperate for a job,” Darby said. “So I taught her how to do the chores, how to dip cattle, how to help brand, how to stack hay and ride fence and pull calves. You have to admit, she’s turned into one of the best hires we’ve ever had. Works all hours, never complains about anything.” His eyes narrowed and the smile thinned. “And you think someone like that could be dishonest? Wouldn’t she be complaining at every turn and trying to get out of hard work?”
“I don’t know,” Mallory confessed. “Vanessa made me question my judgment. I’m not certain about anyone anymore.”
“If you want to distrust somebody, you take a hard look at that Bruner woman,” Darby said. “Something’s not right there. I’d bet money on it.”
“She’s just a friend,” Mallory muttered.
“She doesn’t think that. She wants you. And she’ll find a way to get rid of Morie, you mark my words. She’s not going to let her stay here.”
“It’s my ranch. I hire and fire.”
“Think so? We’ll see. Meanwhile, how about easing up on Morie?” he added. “God knows what that child’s been through in her life to make her end up here, doing a job she was never intended to do. Hurts me to see that deep scratch on her face. Flawless complexion. She could have been a model.”
Mallory frowned. He hadn’t considered her complexion or her background. He’d only been concerned that she might be a con artist. He’d have to take a better look at her. On the one hand, he was suspicious. On the other, he trusted Darby’s judgment when he couldn’t trust his own.
He patted the old man on the shoulder. “Never could take back talk from anybody but you, you old pirate.”
Darby grinned. “You’ll always get the truth from me. Even if you don’t want to hear it.”
Mallory sighed. He was looking after Morie. She’d gone galloping off, still crying. He felt like a villain. “Think I’ll take a ride.”
Darby smiled. “Good idea. You do that.”
MORIE STOPPED AT THE CREEK and got off the horse. She bathed her face in the clean water and used her only handkerchief to mop up her tears. Ridiculous, l
etting that awful man make her cry. She should have kicked him and told him what he could do with his job. That’s what her father would have done. He’d never have gone off crying. She tried to picture that and it made her smile.
She heard a horse coming up and turned, expecting Darby. But it was the boss. He looked oddly contrite, watching her with one arm crossed over the pommel, his dark eyes keen on her tearstained face.
“Maybe I could have chosen my words better,” he said stiffly.
She shrugged and looked away. “I work here. You’re the boss.”
“Yes, but…” He drew in an angry breath. “Why didn’t you fight back? Why did you run?”
She glared at him. “I’ve caused enough trouble for one day,” she said flatly. She drew in a long breath. “Listen, I should quit… .”
“No!”
He was out of the saddle in a heartbeat and standing over her the next. He took her by the shoulders. In the silence of the woods, she could hear her own heart beating as he looked into her eyes and didn’t look away for so long that her heart ran wild. She had to part her full lips to breathe. Her heartbeat was strangling her.
He saw that helpless reaction and it touched him. She couldn’t have faked her attraction to him. It was far too visible.
His hands relaxed and became caressing. They ran up and down her arms in the long-sleeved cotton T-shirt. “You puzzle me,” he said, his voice deep and slow, like velvet. “I don’t like it.”
Her hands pressed against the soft cotton of his shirt. Underneath it she felt cushy, thick hair and hard muscle. She smelled the woodsy cologne and the masculine soap that clung to his skin. He made her tingle all over, just by standing close to her. She looked up at his wide, sensuous mouth and remembered how it felt to kiss him. She wanted him to kiss her. She wanted it, so much!
“Damn it,” he ground out, because he knew. He could sense her hunger, even before her rapt gaze on his lips proved it to him.
Before she could question the sudden curse, his mouth went down on hers. He kissed her hungrily. His arms lifted her into the instantly hard contours of his powerful body and pulled her into him. His hand went to the base of her spine, insistent as he demonstrated the force of his desire for her.
She tried to protest, but her own body betrayed her. She moaned and pressed close against him, her mouth twisting under his, provoking, pleading, begging for more.
She felt him move, felt the ground suddenly under her back and the weight and warmth of his body melting down into hers. She felt his long leg parting both of hers as his hips moved down between them.
“Dear…God!” he bit off reverently as he felt the pleasure wash over him.
His hands were under her shirt, under her bra. He felt the softness of her small, firm breasts with their hard tips first against his fingers, and then, as he pushed the shirt up out of his way, under his mouth.
He suckled her, hard, feeling her arch under him and cry out. He thought he was hurting her in his ardor and started to lift his head, but her hands pulled, pleaded, dragged his mouth back down.
She tasted like honey. He was drowning in need. He pressed against her in a slow, sensuous rhythm that grew more insistent by the minute. His hand lifted her hips, pulled them against the hardness of him.
He worked feverishly at the buttons of his shirt and opened it so that he could feel her breasts under the crush of his bare chest. His mouth invaded hers. He was desperate to have her. He couldn’t bear to stop, not now!
Neither could she. It was the most passionate interlude of her young life. She wasn’t able to protest. She wanted to know him, as a man, as a lover. She wanted to feel him deep inside her, feel him taking her, possessing her. She wanted…a child…!
She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until he suddenly dragged himself away from her, rolled over in an agonized state of denial and groaned as if all the devils in purgatory were pummeling him.
She lay shocked, gasping, as she realized how far they’d gone. She jackknifed, quickly righting her clothing, shivering with denied pleasure. She got to her feet, shaking, and looked away while she fought to get her breath. She was horrified at her own lack of control. It had been so close!
She swallowed, hard, and then swallowed again. She couldn’t force herself to look at him, although she heard him get to his feet, heard his own rasping breath as he worked to regain the control he’d lost.
After a minute, she heard a rough curse break from his throat as he looked at her stiff back.
“So that’s your game, is it?” he asked coldly. “You’d like a child, would you? I don’t suppose you’re taking any sort of preventative. You seduce the boss, there’s a child and you’re set for life. That how it works?”
She turned, shocked. She stared at him with stark embarrassment and averted her eyes. She was flushed and sick at heart. “I…wasn’t thinking at all.”
“Obviously you were,” he said coldly. He smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile. “Good try. But I’m no novice with your sex, and I’m no easy mark.”
“It wasn’t like that.” She faltered, flushing even more.
He gave her a long and very insulting look. “Sure.” He picked up his hat from where he’d tossed it, dusted it off, slanted it over his eyes and went to find his horse, which had wandered off to eat green grass. He mounted and turned the horse. He stared at her, but she didn’t look at him, or answer him. She went to get back on her own mount and rode away without another word.
She was going to have to leave. She knew it certainly. Mallory had made his opinion of her quite clear. What was unclear was why he’d suddenly started kissing her like that. She hadn’t asked for it. Or had she? Her obvious attraction to him was going to be disastrous. He was already suspicious of her, thanks to his girlfriend. She’d blurted out that embarrassing comment and now he was surely going to think she was some gold digger.
Her subconscious must be working overtime, she decided, because she had no conscious thought of starting a family. But to have a child, with a man like Mallory, who was so masculine and attractive…
And bullheaded and suspicious-minded and unkind, she added hotly to herself. Of course she wanted a child from a man like that!
Actually, in her young life, she’d never known passion or such hunger; she’d never thought of marrying and having children. She’d thought herself in love with the persistent accountant until she found out his true motives for courting her. But now she knew there had been nothing at all to that relationship. And he’d pressed her to sleep with him. He’d even said they had no need for birth control, because he wanted children with her. Somehow, she’d had the sense to deny him.
Mallory was thinking the exact same thing about her that she’d thought about her would-be lover. The accountant, she still couldn’t bring herself to say his name even silently, had wanted to trap her into marriage. Mallory thought Morie was up to the same underhanded game. It was humiliating.
She should have had more control of herself. It was just that he was heaven to kiss. And kissing had so quickly not been enough to satisfy either of them. If she hadn’t opened her mouth to say something so shocking, if he hadn’t pulled back in time…
She flushed, remembering how sweet it had been. She couldn’t allow that to happen again. Not that she’d be around long enough. She’d started trouble with the brothers, innocently, setting one against the other. Her presence here was causing problems. She should leave. Now. Today.
Yes. She should. She got back on her horse and started to turn him toward the ranch. But at the last minute, she couldn’t force herself to do it. Just a little longer, she promised herself. Just a few more days to look at Mallory from a distance and talk to him and dream of him. What would it hurt?
She started back to the fence line.
SEVERAL DAYS PASSED with no other incidents. Mal-lory, however, said hardly two words to Morie. He relayed instructions through Darby, who seemed uncomfortable for some reason.
Cane fou
nd Morie at the line cabin, where she was spending the day watching for calves to drop. He got off his horse with some little effort and walked up on the porch. Morie was drinking coffee from her thermos and eating a cold, buttered biscuit.
“Hi,” she greeted cheerily. “Want to share lunch?” She held out the half-eaten biscuit.
He shook his head. “No, thanks. I just had a thick roast-beef sandwich with homemade French fries.”
She groaned and looked at the biscuit. “I knew I wasn’t living right.”
He smiled. He pushed his wide-brimmed hat back on his head and his dark eyes narrowed. “What’s going on between you and Mal?” he asked unexpectedly.
She fumbled and spilled coffee on her jeans. Well, they were dirty anyway. “What…what do you mean?” She faltered, and ruined her poise by flushing.
He pursed his lips. “I see.”
“No, you don’t,” she shot back. “You don’t see. There’s nothing. Nothing at all!”
“Why, because he’s the boss and you’re the hired help?” he asked, leaning back against a post. “We aren’t royalty.”
“You might as well be,” she said flatly. “He thinks I’m after his money.”
His eyebrows arched. “He does?”
She lowered her eyes to the splash of coffee on her knee. She sipped more coffee. “I’m not,” she said with quiet pride, “but it’s what he thinks.” She looked up. “I’m fairly certain his girlfriend is helping him to think it. She really hates my guts.”
“I noticed.”
She looked up at him solemnly. “You watch her,” she said with sudden passion. “She’s pretending to be something she’s not.”
His eyebrows arched. “And you know this, how…?”
“For one thing, she’s wearing last year’s colors. For another, the shoes she favors are far out of style. Her jewelry is just as dated, and the purse she carries is couture, but it’s not a new one.”
