by Francis Ray
“Not a chance.” Both hands settled gently on her waist. Victoria tensed in spite of herself. Kane’s expression didn’t alter. “Look around you, Tory.”
She did. Every woman on the dance floor was being held the same way. She looked back at Kane. He waited with the patience of a mountain, apparently undisturbed that people were looking at them oddly because they were just standing there. It was her call. If she stepped into his arms it would imply more trust in him than she had given any man since her divorce. No matter what, she knew she could trust him. She lifted both hands and laced them around his neck. With incredible slowness, he drew her to him.
Awareness ripped through her. The heat of his body seemed to envelope her. Strangely, this time it comforted her rather than made her nervous. She didn’t try to analyze why. She simply knew she was tired of being on guard around Kane, and he had proven he’d protect her, even from her own foolish emotions if necessary.
She relaxed and her eyelids drifted shut as his arms tightened around her waist. He moved with surprising ease, his steps sure and graceful. Her cheek rested on his chest. A smile curved her lips at the fast tempo of his heartbeat. Her smile faltered as she realized that he probably felt her erratic heartbeat as well. The music ended and she quickly stepped back and glanced up at Kane.
“Don’t look so scared. You’re safe . . . for now,” Kane said, then winked. A devilish smile on his face, he led her back to the booth.
Several new faces waited for them. Someone pulled up a cane-back chair for her. She sat down and Kane stepped behind her, his fingers curled around the top slat of the chair back, his possessiveness obvious.
This time, no one had any difficulty talking. With a firm handshake and a smile, people introduced themselves. The names of their hometowns were as varied as the hues of their skin.
Surprise widened Victoria’s eyes on learning that the short barrel of a man who had the courage to speak first was a “bullfighter.” Ben said he preferred that name over “rodeo clown.” Victoria agreed once Kane explained Ben’s job was to protect bull riders by playing dodge with two-thousand-pound angry animals.
Not to be outdone, the men who were bareback riders, steer wrestlers, and calf ropers were just as vocal. Jason, Oklahoma Slim, and Manuel got into an argument over who had won more belt buckles in previous competitions. Victoria glanced at Kane’s waist and he shook his head.
“This time I bet you’ll win one,” she whispered, then turned her attention to Stony, a muscular young man with a wad of chewing tobacco stored in his cheek.
“I’m going to be the best pickup man in the business.” Stony shifted the tobacco to the other cheek, then continued, “When the eight-second buzzer goes off and a man’s lucky or skilled enough to still be ridin’ a buckin’ bronc and he’s lookin’ for a way off, I’ll be there to lift him off as gently as if he were a baby.”
Victoria saw the determination in the man’s eyes and wished him luck. She soon learned some of the people were in town for the rodeo, others lived nearby. Everyone seemed to respect and defer to Kane. Victoria sensed it had nothing to do with his size. He was genuinely well liked and respected. Somehow she wasn’t surprised.
Someone pushed a beer into her hand. Not wanting to remark that she didn’t like beer, she accepted the foaming mug with a smile. After several minutes had passed and she hadn’t taken a drink, Kane took the glass. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled her thanks, then turned to see everyone staring at her again.
“I’m afraid it didn’t work, Kane.”
His large hand tensed on her shoulder. “What didn’t work?”
“Leaving our jackets in the car. We’re still somewhat of an oddity, the way we’re dressed,” she said with wry amusement.
“No,” a pretty brunette rushed to say. “I’ve been admiring your outfit.” She looked at Kane. “Since I know you won’t punch a woman, I might as well tell Victoria, before she thinks we all have fallen off our horses one time too many.”
“Penny, some things are more dangerous than barrel racing,” Kane answered.
Uncertainty crossed the young woman’s face. Victoria hadn’t seen Penny, an insurance adjuster from Oklahoma, so quiet since they were introduced. The other woman by her side appeared just as unsure of herself. Victoria stood. “Penny, could you and Kisha show me to the ladies room?”
Smiling sweetly into Kane’s scowling face, Victoria linked arms with the two women. Five minutes later she had discovered that Kane hadn’t brought another woman to the Cuttin’ Inn in over two years, and when he had, they hadn’t danced. The knowledge saddened her. Hadn’t any other woman had the sense to recognize what a good man Kane was?
Penny must have read the expression on Victoria’s face, because she said, “Don’t think it’s because he hasn’t had the opportunity. He has. He’s just particular. Kane’s not the type of man to date just to have a woman on his arm. Unlike his brother, Matt, who changes women faster than he can rope a calf. He was the ’91 champion.”
Victoria frowned. “Kane didn’t mention he had a brother.”
“Kane nor any other man with good sense,” Kisha said, repairing her lipstick. “Matt’s as handsome as sin and he has a smile that could make an angel weep.” She sighed. “His black eyes will make your heart go into overtime, if you’re lucky enough to catch his eye.”
“Catching his eye is not the problem. Keeping it on you is,” Penny said. She and Kisha shared a look.
It was evident that both of the women had tried to interest Matt. Obviously they hadn’t been successful.
Penny glanced at Victoria. “You’re lucky to have a stable man like Kane.”
“You make him sound as dull as week-old dishwater,” Victoria said, aware that she sounded defensive.
The two women laughed. Kisha shook her head. “Kane? Dull? Cross him or do something to one of his friends and see how dull he is. Most men would rather tangle blindfolded with a bear than get on Kane’s bad side. Like Penny said, you’re lucky.”
Victoria followed them out of the ladies’ room, her mind on Kane. What had possessed her to take up for him? He could take care of himself. As for her being lucky . . . her luck had run out six months ago.
“You all right?”
Victoria looked up to see Kane standing near the end of the fifty-foot bar. She saw something she never expected to see in his eyes . . . uncertainty. It touched her as nothing had in years. “You have some very loyal friends. You’re a fortunate man.”
The tension seemed to ease out of his broad shoulders. He took her hand. “Come on. Since you said you never learned the “Cotton-Eyed Joe,” the boys decided to have the band do it in your honor.”
She grinned and held up her full skirt. “Lead on.”
When the line went forward, Victoria went backward. Dancers kicked forward, she kicked backward. Kane never stopped laughing. His warm laughter flowed over her, through her, making it harder to concentrate. Finally, his powerful arm circled her waist and held her against the hard line of his body with an easy strength that fascinated and amazed her.
“Put your arm around my neck, honey,” he grinned.
She did, despite the tingling in her body, despite the people in the line behind her and on her line shouting that she and Kane were cheating. Once or twice she asked Kane to put her down. He did, until she made a misstep and back up she went. When the dance ended, she still had one arm looped around his neck.
People circled around them, applauding. She hadn’t had so much fun in years. With a start, she realized she had also forgotten the reason she was out with Kane. On some deeper level, she didn’t fear or distrust Kane as she did other men. She didn’t know whether to be pleased or not.
Reluctantly, Kane put her on her feet. One possessive arm remained around her waist. “I’m going to get Tory something to drink. She’s probably thirsty from all that dancing,” Kane said, a wide grin on his dark, craggy face.
Catcalls and good-natured jeers followed them to the bar. Victor
ia slid onto a wooden stool. Kane hooked one booted heel over the chrome footrest circling the bar and stood beside her.
“What will you and the lady have, Kane?” the bartender asked, wiping the scarred oak surface of the bar with a dry cloth.
“A diet cola,” Victoria replied.
“A diet cola and a long neck, Jake.”
Nodding, the bearded man turned away. Kane gently brushed the wisps of black hair off her forehead. “You really are having a good time.”
Before she could answer, a tall glass clinking with ice cubes and a bottle of beer were plunked on top of cardboard coasters. She took a sip of cola. “You doubted?”
He rolled the bottle between finger and thumb. “I wasn’t sure. I just wanted to bring you here.”
“Why?”
“These are my friends. I wanted to see if you could be comfortable with them and them with you.”
She tilted her head to one side and stared up at him. “I might have believed that two hours ago, but not now. You respect and like your friends, but you wouldn’t care two hoots and a holler, as Penny would put it, what they thought about the woman in your life.”
“You think so?” He took a swig of beer.
“I know so. Now, care to tell me the real reason we’re here?”
For a long moment he stared at the foam disappearing in the brown bottle, then his gaze captured hers. “I wanted to hold you, and the only way I could think of was to take you dancing.”
She felt humbled, special, and in trouble. She searched her mind for something to say and could think of nothing that wouldn’t lead him on or hurt him. Her grateful gaze touched the beer bottle. “Thanks for taking my beer earlier. I can’t stand the taste.”
Kane spluttered, almost choking as he jerked the long-neck bottle out of his mouth. Alarmed, Victoria jumped off the stool to pat him on the back. “Are you all right?”
“Yeah.” The bottle thumped on the bar. “Must have gone down the wrong way.” Pulling out some bills, he laid them beside the discarded beer. “Ready to go back to your place?”
“Yes,” she said, realizing instantly why Kane had stopped drinking his beer. The good-night kiss. Did he plan to kiss her on the mouth tonight? She had certainly acted like they were on a date. Her body tensed. Whether it was in fear or anticipation, she didn’t know, and she wasn’t going to look too deeply for the answer.
They walked back to their table and said their goodbyes. To requests that she come to the rodeo starting in two days, she gave a noncommittal “I’ll see.”
Becoming better acquainted with Kane’s friends wasn’t a a good idea. If Kane agreed to help her, the least she could do was save him the awkward embarrassment of trying to explain what had happened to her after the divorce . . . as she had had to explain about Stephen.
Neither spoke on the way to her apartment. The only sound was the country and western music on the radio. Every song described a broken-hearted woman or man that was cheated on or left behind.
“Aren’t any country and western songs happy?” Victoria asked, the lyrics increasing her nervousness.
“Some are, but I guess most of the time you have to hurt before you know what it is to love.”
She glanced at him as he pulled under the covered driveway. “Have you ever been hurt?”
“Once.”
“What happened?”
“She married someone else,” he said softly.
The sadness in his voice tore at her heart. “I’m sorry.”
“No sorrier than I am.” He switched off the engine. “Come on. I guess it’s time we talked.”
Kane opened his door, feeling the tension back in his body again. In a matter of minutes he’d either lose or win the only woman he wanted for his wife. Victoria had her jacket back on, but her hair was still down. His hands itched to run his fingers through that hair, shimmering in the light, but he knew he couldn’t. Not yet.
His hand gently rode the curve of her waist as they entered the elevator. Feeling her stiffen, he withdrew his hand and stepped back. Maybe he was crazy thinking his plan could work. But what did he have to lose? On the sixteenth floor, the doors slid open and they stepped off.
Inside the living room, Victoria asked, “Can I get you anything?”
“No.” Kane looked around the room. Chic and stylish and feminine. It reflected the woman, with soft colors of peach and ivory and blue. There was nothing soft about him or the life he led, yet he wanted her to share that life.
Victoria sat on the sofa and took a deep breath. “What is your decision?”
Kane rammed his hands in his pockets, then just as quickly ripped them out again. “The decision will be yours, once I tell you what I want.”
Something inside her heart twisted. “You mean you want more money. Is fifteen thousand dollars enough?”
“It isn’t money I want.”
She swallowed. “Then what is it, Kane? What do you want?”
“You, Tory. I want you to be my wife for real.”
Chapter 5
Shock ripped through Victoria, widening her eyes, sending her heartbeat soaring. He reached for her. She shrank back in the chair.
“No. I-I told you I wanted a busi—”
“Forget the business agreement,” Kane said fiercely. “I’m asking you to be my wife.”
Panic-stricken, she rose. Her legs trembled. Blindly, she groped for the back of the couch to steady herself. “Kane, I don’t want this.”
“You think I don’t know that? It’s all I’ve thought about all night. Do you think I’d choose for a wife someone who can’t decide if she wants to run to me or away from me?”
Victoria was too stunned by his counteroffer to try and explain the reasons behind her erratic behavior. “I’ll double the money.”
“I don’t want your money. I want a wife.”
She shook her head in bewilderment.
Kane clenched his fists to keep from dragging her into his arms. “Listen, Tory. I’m not some crazed fool who is going to abuse you or take advantage of you. You’re Bonnie’s friend, for goodness’s sake. The first time I saw you at your and Bonnie’s commencement, the other girls wore dresses, you wore a collarless white suit with a single strand of pearls and pearl earrings. Your hair was up. The whole family had come up for Bonnie’s graduation.”
“I don’t remember seeing you.”
“Would it have made any difference if you had?”
Victoria wanted to tell him that she would have smiled, but she knew at eighteen, she had been eager to test her womanhood. Kane had held her and soothed her fears, and she had never thought to seek him out and say thank you. At the time, she had been too busy with a new boyfriend. Stephen had taught her that cruelty worked both ways.
“You trusted me the night of the storm twelve years ago,” Kane said softly. “Trust me again. Marry me, Tory. I’ll make you a good husband.”
She shook her head, her hand clutching her churning stomach. “I told you what I expected from you. I don’t need a good husband. I only need a signature.”
“What about someone to care for you, laugh with, share your dreams with?”
His voice, soft and coaxing, reached out to her. Her spine stiffened. “I don’t need caring. I have my boutiques.”
“Then what about what you feel when I hold you?” he asked gently. If he could get her to stop running from her feelings long enough to face them, they might have a chance.
Her churning stomach worsened. “I admit there’s an unexplained ‘something’ between us, but I don’t plan to give in to it or act on it.”
He studied her for a long moment, his fist tightening. He had lost. He didn’t want a woman whose barriers he had to knock down every moment they were together. Without trust, they had nothing to build on. “I don’t guess you could have made it any plainer.”
“Kane, I need you.”
“What about my needs, Tory? Have you for one moment considered my feelings?”
“I o
ffered you money,” she wailed. Didn’t he understand? Money was the only thing she could give him that wouldn’t put her emotionally at risk.
Black eyes blazed. “I’m not Stephen. I want to give, not take.”
The throbbing sincerity in his voice made her throat sting. “Don’t you understand? I can’t give in return. I don’t know how and, even if I did, I won’t be that vulnerable again.”
Kane’s face softened. “You’re wrong, Tory. You give just by being you. I saw the way you looked at those two women on the elevator, the way you made my friends feel at ease around you. You have so much to give if you’d just let yourself.”
“I’m not so giving that I’m going to jump into bed with you to save my business!”
“Your body is as hungry as mine, Tory. We both know it!” Kane’s voice curled through her.
“Will you stop saying things like that? A few kisses doesn’t prove anything.”
Kane took a step closer, his eyes dark and compellingly sensual. “How many men have you kissed like you kissed me?”
Victoria ran a distracted hand through her hair and looked away from the temptation of Kane’s mouth. “That’s not the point. Anyway, what would you do with a wife while you’re following the circuit?”
“I’m not with the rodeo,” he said softly.
“What?” As if her legs were unable to hold her any longer, she sank into a chair. Her head bowed, her trembling fingers massaged her pounding temples. Kane kept throwing her one curve after the other.
Black cowboy boots came into her line of vision. Her head jerked up. “What is it you do?”
“I have a small place about a forty-five-minute drive from Fort Worth.”
She looked at him with accusing eyes. “You could have told me that instead of letting me think you were a rodeo performer.”
“You seemed to like the idea of my not being around. Besides, it doesn’t matter what I do unless we can come to a compromise.”
She sat up straighter. “What kind of compromise?”
“I still want a wife.” He held up his hand when she opened her mouth to speak. “However, I’m willing to admit that asking you to be my wife for real might have been taking advantage of your situation. But, remembering how you kissed me, I didn’t think you’d fight so hard.” Victoria’s back became straighter. “Therefore, I’m willing to give you your own bedroom. In return, you’ll live with me for the length of our marriage. To the outside world, you’ll be my wife.”
