Forever Yours

by Francis Ray

* * *

  “Wasn’t she a beautiful baby? She’s so special.”

  Kane looked at the black and white picture of the thin child who had her thumb in her mouth while holding the hem of her mother’s flared skirt in the same hand. “I don’t think we came in here to talk about Tory’s childhood.”

  “Perceptive of you, young man,” Henry said, looking over the wire rim of his glasses.

  “Do you think a lesser man would have our Victoria in a dither?” Clair asked her husband.

  “What did you say?” Kane asked.

  “Don’t go dumb on us now.” Clair closed the oversized photo album. “What we’d like to know is why, since you and Victoria obviously care about each other, you had her so upset earlier today. If it’s because you need money—”

  Kane came to his feet. “I think I’d better go.”

  “Do sit down, Kane, and stop glowering at me, or Henry will have to take you to task,” Clair said.

  Kane glanced at Henry, who remained unmoved in his leather easy chair, his legs stretched out in front of him on a hassock, his hands folded across his lap.

  “Please do as she asks or I’ll have to defend her, and I don’t relish any of my bones being broken, especially at my age,” Henry said mildly.

  “If we thought all you wanted was money, we’d never let you through the door. We learned our mistake with Stephen,” Clair said with heat.

  “You should have protected her from that pile of—” Kane flushed and took his seat. “Sorry.”

  Clair patted Kane’s hand. “I don’t like to speak ill of others, but in Stephen’s case, it’s justified. It occurred to Henry and me that cattle ranching is a very unsteady business and you might be a little hesitant in asking for a woman’s hand.”

  Kane almost relaxed at the antiquated term of asking a woman to marry you. “The ranch is solvent.”

  “Then there is no reason why you can’t ask Victoria to marry you.”

  “That, Mrs. Benson, is between me and Tory.”

  “Did you know you’re the only person she allows to call her anything besides Victoria?” Clair persisted. “There has to be a special reason.”

  “No, I didn’t. As for a reason, I stopped trying to figure out why women did things before I got out of high school.” He rose. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to join the others.”

  Clair smiled indulgently. “I do believe you’re as stubborn as I am.”

  “No,” Kane said. “That dubious honor goes to Tory.”

  Chapter 7

  The alarm clock’s strident buzz woke Victoria. A groping hand shut off the intrusive noise. For the first time in days, worry hadn’t prodded her from sleep and driven her from her bed long before the alarm sounded. It was all because of her engagement to Kane. He had given her back Lavender and Lace. In his giving, he had taken as well.

  He had taken away her ability to group him with other men. He was Kane. Rugged, aggressive, yet so tender with her that she felt better just being around him. Rolling from her side, she lay back in bed staring at the gathered peach moire half-canopy overhead. What was there about Kane that slipped past her defenses, making her want to take the frown from his face? Whatever it was, she was going to remember they had a business arrangement and nothing else.

  Throwing back the comforter, she got out of bed. Kane was picking her up around twelve to go get their marriage license, then they were going for lunch. Today he’d see a poised Victoria, not someone who shivered at his slightest touch. Today she would not spend her time wondering about a man who could be as rugged as a mountain or as gentle as the stream that wound through it.

  However, once at Lavender and Lace, she continued to think about Kane. He clearly puzzled her. No one in the past had put her needs above theirs. Her parents had loved her, but she had understood from an early age that they had social and professional obligations to meet.

  By forcing her into marriage in hopes of continuing the Chandler line, her grandmother put her own wishes above Victoria’s.

  Only Kane had put her first. He hadn’t taken advantage of her moments of weakness in his arms or of her need for a husband. She paused in hanging up a slinky black chemise.

  A man as giving as Kane deserved a woman who would cherish him as much as he would cherish the woman he loved. She would have to do a delicate balancing act of giving him a make-believe wife while not becoming too emotionally involved. Perhaps she should have said no kisses.

  “I hope I’m not the cause of that frown?”

  She pivoted. “Kane! What are you doing here so early?”

  He stepped closer. Her body heated. “I needed something.”

  “W-what?”

  A long, tapered finger traced her quivering lower lip. “Guess?”

  Her throat dried. What must she have been thinking to agree to a public display of affection? Kane was too good at making a woman feel special and needed. “I can’t leave the store now.”

  His black Stetson jerked in a clerk’s direction. “Can’t she take care of things?”

  “Melody is very competent, but I usually help and it’s almost time for her lunch break.” Victoria stepped around him and away from temptation. This time when they talked, she was going to be sensible. No more kissing. “Melody,” she said, going behind the solid oak counter. “You can go to lunch now.”

  Melody, petite, pretty, and a redhead for the past three days, glanced at Kane who leaned against the eighteenth century armoire, his arms folded as if he lounged daily in the midst of a lingerie shop. He tipped his hat, his dark gaze returning to a fidgeting Victoria.

  “Is he yours?” Melody inquired.

  Used to the young co-ed’s direct way of speaking, Victoria simply gave her the answer she sought. “Yes.”

  “Does he have a brother?” Melody persisted, her voice carrying as she gave Kane a thorough once over.

  Kane grinned. “One, and he’s a lot harder to catch.”

  “Melody, you’re wasting your lunch time.” Victoria reminded her, then grimaced as she heard the irritation in her voice.

  “Sorry, but it isn’t often you see a man so well built. He’s got some killer eyes, too. I’ll just get my purse and leave.” Retrieving her purse from the back, she did just that.

  Kane pushed away from the armoire, his steps slow and predatory as he came to Victoria. Reaching over the counter top, he lifted her chin with finger and thumb. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For pretending to be a little jealous.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she informed him, turning away.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Kane said, his incredibly gentle hands palmed her face. “I’ve seen compassion and desire in your eyes. Jealously, even pretending, is something I never hoped for, and you’re not going to deny it.”

  “We are engaged,” Victoria said, thankful he didn’t realize she hadn’t been acting. What had happened to her earlier plans to keep things on a business level?

  “That we are.” A rough-tipped thumb stroked the smooth line of her jaw. Her stomach somersaulted.

  Her hands closed over his. “Kane, you can stop now. No one is in the shop.”

  “Yes there is.” He inclined his head toward the front door.

  Victoria snatched her hand away and quickly skirted the counter. She hadn’t heard the bell. Thankfully, the young woman was a repeat customer and knew what she wanted. As soon as Victoria finished the sale, she returned to Kane.

  “I think we sh—”

  “How do you buy those things?” he interrupted.

  Following his pointing finger, Victoria saw a reclining mannequin wearing a black lace merry-widow with plunging underwire cups. Garter straps hung down over a black G-string bikini and attached to lace-trimmed black stockings. “By sizes.”

  Kane looked at her, his eyes hovered briefly on the rise and fall of her breasts beneath her yellow silk blouse, and he asked, “Sizes of what?”

  Heat climbed fro
m her breasts to her face. The twinkle in his eyes gave him away. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

  “Didn’t you know that when a man takes a wife he has no shame?” he asked softly.

  “I-I’m beginning to.”

  “Finally, I’m getting somewhere. Now, wrap everything up,” he ordered.

  “You’re serious?”

  “I am.” He leaned closer. “Maybe if I get lucky, I’ll get to see my wife wearing them.”

  Excitement and uncertainty vied for her attention. Uncertainty won. “Kane, you shouldn’t have to get lucky to see your wife wearing lingerie.”

  “Considering we’re only pretending, I do,” he teased. “But I am looking forward to sharing other things with you, like watching the sunset, having breakfast, going on a picnic.”

  “I haven’t gone on a picnic since I was a little girl,” Victoria said wistfully. “I bought a basket a while ago but I never got around to using it.”

  “You will now. I know the perfect spot.” His fingertips gently touched her cheek. “You’re going to knock the guys’ socks off when we go to Prairie View for my college reunion. Now, let’s see what else there is.”

  Taking her hand, he stopped in front of a red satin teddy. Fingering the lace at the bodice, he looked back at Victoria. His eyes narrowed. For a second his hand tightened on her arm, then loosened. He stepped away.

  The front door bell sounded again. The customer and the one after her needed Victoria’s assistance. Pointing to the front door, Kane mouthed “twelve” and left. Her gaze followed until the matronly lady asked Victoria about bath crystals in a tone that clearly stated she had asked the question before.

  Showing the customer the different fragrances, Victoria glanced back at the closed door. Kane was apparently enjoying their engagement, but she was in deep trouble and sinking further each time he came near her.

  Precisely at twelve, Kane returned. Victoria tilted her head toward the back office. Nodding, Kane walked in that direction. After she finished ringing up a sale, she followed.

  “Business seems good,” Kane said, looking around the room cluttered with several opened boxes.

  Obtaining her purse, Victoria nodded. “This time of year is always busy with vacations and weddings.” Her eyes slid away from Kane’s.

  His large hands spanned her waist, drawing her and her gaze to him. “You won’t be sorry, and you’ll never have to be afraid of saying no.” His head bent, his warm breath flowed over her lips.

  Victoria inhaled sharply and tasted something mint flavored. Instead of stepping back as she had intended, she licked her lips. Kane did the rest. Warm lips brushed against hers so fleetingly that Victoria’s lashes barely settled against her cheek before they lifted again.

  “If I kissed you the way I wanted, we’d miss lunch and I’d get into trouble for overstepping our bargain.” Her hand in his, he started from the room. “Now, let’s get going. We have a lot to do.”

  The phone rang just as they reached the door. Quirking a dark brow, Kane released her hand. “Make it quick or I might have to start nibbling on you.”

  Flushing, Victoria picked up the phone. She wondered if there would ever come a time when her body would be immune to Kane’s teasing. She sincerely hoped so.

  Her voice was breathless when she spoke, “Lavender and Lace.” Pause. “Hi, Bonnie. Yes, he’s here.” She handed Kane the phone. “She wants to talk with you.”

  “Hey, Bonnie, don’t you get tired of bothering us?” Kane spoke jokingly into the receiver. His smile abruptly faded. “Mama?”

  His uncertain gaze flicked to Victoria. “Yes, ma’am, it’s true.”

  A hard knot settled in Victoria’s stomach. Instinctively, she stepped closer to Kane.

  “Don’t cry, Mama. I was going to call you.” He paused. “Yes, I’m with her now. Addie? Sis, don’t tell me you’re on the line too. No, you can’t have a discount, and get off the other phone. Now!” He rubbed his hand across his face. “Sure, Mama, you can talk . . .” He glanced heavenward. “She won’t think you’re strange for crying.” There was another pause. “That sounds fine, Bonnie.” His expression looked anything but fine. “All right, Mama. Goodbye.”

  Hanging up the phone, he leaned against the desk. “Since it’s Friday, my sister came home from college for the weekend. She called Bonnie to thank her for her graduation gift, and Bonnie told Addie one of her brothers was getting married. She yelled out to Mama, who thought it was Matt. Bonnie finally explained that it was me. Then Bonnie hooked us up to a three-way call. I guess you heard the rest.”

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wanted my parents to hear about the wedding from me. Mama was crying and talking about losing her firstborn.”

  “How did you plan to explain to them that a woman is using you to regain control of her business?”

  “I’m a grown man, not some idealistic kid. I don’t have to explain anything to my parents or anyone else,” he said fiercely. “I run my own life and make my own decisions. I meant they deserved to hear about our engagement from me first. I’m getting as much out of this marriage as you are.”

  “I shouldn’t have told Bonnie last night when she called,” Victoria admitted ruefully.

  “It’s all right, but there’s something else.”

  “Why do I have the feeling that I’m not going to be pleased?”

  “The whole family is coming up tomorrow evening at six to meet you. Before they do, I think it’s about time I showed you where I live.”

  Kane was in trouble.

  He knew it the moment he drove across the cattle guard to his ranch. Victoria’s entire body tensed on seeing the initials K and T on each of the ten-foot black iron gates. Gripping the truck’s steering wheel, Kane continued the mile-long drive on the paved road to his house.

  A winding stream meandered on his left. On his right, red Herefords lolled beneath cedar and oak trees or at the salt block. The white-faced cows’ mooing broke the silence of the countryside. Kane wished something would break the strained tension inside the truck.

  He pulled up in front of his two-story frame house bordered by a bed of dark gold zinnias. Kane grimaced on seeing his quarterhorse, Shadow Walker, run to the corral fence and nicker in greeting.

  Getting out of the truck, he walked around and opened Victoria’s door. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

  Without a word, she complied. Deciding to save the house for last, Kane started toward the outer buildings. Victoria became stiffer as he pointed out the barn, the stable for his registered quarterhorses, the tractor and hay combine under the galvanized shed, the bunk house for the three full-time hired hands.

  Finally they started back. The house, painted white and trimmed in blue with blue shutters, had a wraparound porch. Three large baskets of ferns and a porch swing shifted in the gentle spring breeze. Kane opened the front door and stepped aside for her to enter.

  Gleaming oak hardwood floors stretched from the front room to the staircase and beyond to the glass-enclosed porch. Hundred-year-old oaks shaded the enormous back yard. His worried glance flickered around the large open room filled with overstuffed chairs and antique furniture he had rescued and lovingly restored. It wasn’t classy like her home, but it had a casual comfort that he liked.

  “Grandmother would love this room.”

  Kane let out a sigh of relief. At least she was talking to him. “I’m more concerned with what you think.”

  She swung around. “The two-car garage I saw in back. Would it happen to have a gray Mercedes in it?”

  Kane’s expression turned grim. “Yes.”

  “Is this the reason you didn’t want the girls at The Cuttin’ Inn talking to me alone?” Victoria asked.

  “Partly,” Kane answered truthfully. “You seemed to think money was the determining factor for us getting married. It never was for me. I thought it more important for us to like and trust each other than for you to know I didn’t need your money.”

 
“How many acres does this ‘little place,’ as you put it, have?”

  “Tory—”

  “How many?”

  “Just under a thousand.”

  Her hazel eyes glittered. “You’re rich!”

  “Depends on your definition of rich,” Kane said, trying to lighten the mood. At Victoria’s continued glare, he explained further. “I grew up on a small farm on the outside of Tyler in East Texas. The football coach in high school thought I’d be perfect for the defensive line, but I kept tripping over my feet or someone else’s.”

  “Kane, there is nothing remotely clumsy about you,” Victoria said without thought. “You move with the self-assurance of a man who knows who he is and where he’s going. You must have been going through an adolescent phase of awkwardness.”

  Kane smiled. Even being upset with him, Victoria rushed to his defense. But the resurgence of the glitter in her hazel eyes told him he wasn’t off the hook. “Coach Phillips also happened to be my algebra teacher. He discovered that what I lacked on the football field, I made up for academically. He liked to dabble in the stock market and got me interested. By the time I went to Prairie View on a math scholarship, I was pretty good at it.”

  “What happened to get you from there to here?” Victoria asked, her body no longer rigid.

  “Nothing, for a while. I got my MBA in banking and finance, went to work as a financial consultant for an investment firm, and kept in touch with Coach Phillips.” Kane shrugged his broad shoulders. “While I made some good investments, I quickly learned the only way I was going to stop being nine-to-five was to get in on the ground floor of a company before it went public. I started saving so I’d be ready.”

  Admiration shone on Victoria’s face as she leaned against an overstuffed chair and waited for Kane to finish.

  “The chance came with a phone call from Coach Phillips four years after graduation. A small cosmetic company in Dallas specializing in moderately priced skin care and makeup products for African-American women was going under and looking for backers. I checked it out and quickly discovered the company also needed a strong marketing plan and sound financial management to survive. After getting good feedback from mother and some of her friends who tested the products, I knew my chance had finally come.”