She stared at the receiver, stunned by the sound of Willard’s voice. “Why are you calling me here? I don’t want to talk with you.”
“But you have to face the fact that no matter what man does, God has his laws, and what he put together, man is not supposed to tamper with.”
“You came all the way here to...where are you right now, Willard?”
“The Ridges River Walk Hotel. I want to see you this evening, and I’ll be at your hotel around six.”
She laughed because Willard hated for anyone to laugh at him. “If you come here, I’ll have you arrested for harassment. My passport says I’m divorced, and I’ll report you to the U.S. Consulate and to the local police. I’ll do the same if you call me again. You’re here to ruin my chances of winning, but you can forget that. All you are is a nuisance. I don’t need you.”
“I’d like to know where you got that mouth. You’re with some man, I’ll bet, but I’ll put a stop to that.”
“You don’t worry me, Willard, because I now realize that you’re a coward, and I no longer respect you or fear you. Hang up before I call the police.” He didn’t hang up, so she placed the phone in its cradle, pulled off her clothes and went to the shower.
She breezed through the first four matches, slaying her opponents as if they were of no consequence.
“You can beat Sharapova,” Sloan told her before her semifinal match. “You’re faster. Give it all you’ve got. You know I’ll be rooting for you.”
She didn’t tell him that Willard had annoyed her. “I mean to give it my best shot. She’s great, and I have over ten years on her, but I’m intending to win.”
* * *
She lost the first set in a tie and won the second one. How good it was to have the crowd behind her, to hear the screams of “Come on, Lynne. You can do it, babe. Go, Lynne.”
“Sure I can do it,” she told herself. “If I won that second set, when she played like a demon, I can beat her.” But in the end, she lost the match in a long and hard-fought tiebreaker. The Russian champion didn’t give up a point on her serve, and Lynne couldn’t help but admire the woman’s level of play. At the net, she told her, “You’re as good as they get.”
“Thanks, but the way you played today, I don’t know.”
“You can beat anybody playing today,” Gary told her. “She was lucky that that ball fell back on your side of the net.”
“I’m disappointed, but I played my best, and pretty soon, I’ll be holding up one of those trophies.”
“You outplayed her until you choked during the last game. You’re on your way,” Sloan told her that night. “I was sitting on the edge of my chair. You played a terrific match. I’m proud of you.”
* * *
The plane landed, but it seemed to him that years passed before the passengers walked into the waiting room. His gaze captured each one as he sought the face of the woman so dear to him. The anxiety, the groundless fear that she wouldn’t be on the plane evaporated when she walked through the door, saw him and hurried toward him with a happy welcoming smile. He rushed to her, picked her up and twirled her around, before setting her on her feet and pressing his lips, firmly but fleetingly, to hers.
“I think it’s been years since I last saw you,” he said. “You’re a shade darker and twice as beautiful. Let’s go.” He took her bag in one hand and grasped the other one as he walked with her through the terminal and out to the parking lot. “Did you miss me?”
“Did the sun shine in Australia? Every minute.”
“Let’s stop by my place and get Caesar. He’s been rather antsy these past few days. I think he decided it was time you came home.” Full grown now, Caesar greeted her with such eagerness that she had to calm him before he jumped on her.
As they drove to her house, he told her about the new service center. “I’ve had to hire another man, and Ben thinks we ought to stay open all day Saturday and close at six-thirty rather than at five-thirty. I’m willing to try it for a couple of weeks, and if I think it’s profitable, I’ll set a new time schedule. It will mean either overtime pay or shuffling working hours for the men. I’ll see which they prefer.”
“I’m glad business is good,” she said. “It seems you located in the right place. I hope you’re as fortunate with the next one.”
“Thanks, but I don’t depend on luck. I believe in market research, and I’ll work at that for the next eighteen months.”
He parked in front of her house, let her out of the car and then took Caesar’s leash. “He’s so excited that I don’t trust him to walk alone to that front door,” he said.
“Are you coming in?” she asked him.
“Long enough to get my kiss. Woman, I’ve been badly neglected these past three and a half weeks.”
She stepped inside and put her arms around his waist. “You poor baby. Kiss me.”
He hadn’t intended to launch a heavy petting scene, but the feel of her soft and pliable in his arms and with her luscious lips turned up for his kiss, he gripped her to him and plunged his tongue into her waiting mouth. All that he felt for her and all that he longed to experience with her dropped down on him with the force of a wrecking ball. “Oh, Lynne. What have you done to me? I need you so.”
She stepped back and looked at him as if better to assess the import and meaning of his words. “I don’t mean merely the physical,” he said. “I need you period.”
Her pleading expression nearly caused him to lose his composure. “Please be patient a little longer,” she said. “There’s no one else, and there won’t be. Only you.”
He brushed his lips over hers as she stroked his cheek. “It isn’t easy, but I know it’s the best thing for us. May I see you tomorrow night?”
“I’d like that. Call me tomorrow morning, and let’s plan something simple.”
“Right. Meanwhile, I’ll tell Thelma you’re back, but I’ll discourage a visit, because you were traveling almost twenty-four hours.” Lord, I’d better get out of here before I do something stupid. She’s got to be tired after that long flight from Australia, getting to the airport and maneuvering once she got there.
“Look, sweetheart, I’d better go. See you tomorrow evening.” Once more, he let himself know the sweetness and the torture of her kiss, turned and streaked down the walkway to his car. If he so much as glanced back, he’d make a fool of himself.
* * *
Lynne awoke early the next morning, refreshed and eager for the day. While still in bed, she telephoned Sloan. “Hi. It’s such a pretty morning, and the breeze blowing through here is so refreshing, that I had to share it. Where are you?”
“Hi. I’m sitting out on my deck drinking coffee. You’re right, this is great weather, and the breeze makes me feel as if I could run for miles and miles. It’s a great morning. You’re still in bed, aren’t you?”
She hadn’t intended to be suggestive. “Uh, yes, but I’m getting up after we talk.”
“Yeah? If I didn’t have to go to work, I’d be there before you had time to dress, and if I think about it, I’ll do it anyhow.”
“I’m getting up as we speak,” she told him. “I don’t ever want to get between you and your goals.”
“Look, baby. I told you—you are my goal.”
“I definitely did not forget. See you this evening. Bye, love.”
“Bye, sweetheart.”
After working in her garden all morning, she put together a light lunch of lettuce, tomato and a thin slice of ham on whole wheat bread, made a cup of tea and took it out on her deck. She was falling more and more in love with the garden, the thicket of tall oak and cedar trees beyond it and the bluebonnets that grew wild all around her. But she had to mark time while she waited for the end of the tennis season. She had to contend with the possibility that Texas might not become her permanent home.
Caesar sprang up and growled. “What is it?” she asked the dog, as if he could answer. He growled again and scratched at the back screen door. Warily she got up, opened the door and followed him to the front door.
“Who is it?” she asked, and hooked the leash on the dog’s collar. “I said, who is it?” She watched Caesar, for although he didn’t growl, his tail was straight out, and that meant he was especially alert.
She stepped to the side, peered through the plate-glass insert and stepped back, stunned. What was Willard Marsh doing at her front door? She unhooked the chain, unlocked the door and opened it.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to repair my relationship with my wife. God is not pleased with what you’re doing.”
“Be careful,” she said. “My dog doesn’t like you, and if you make one false move, he’ll rip you apart.”
When Willard stared down at Caesar, the dog growled. “Come in,” she said to Willard, “provided you’re willing to risk it.”
He walked in, but he didn’t take his gaze off the dog. “You’re fooling around with a criminal, and I’m surprised at you. I know all about the fellow you’re consorting with. But let me tell you, you’d better be careful.”
When both of her hands went to her hips, Caesar growled. “What the devil are you talking about, and who are you talking about?”
“You know who I’m talking about. It’s that tall fellow who works at a garage in San Antonio. He was indicted for ripping off an old woman who took her Lexus Sedan to him, and when she got it back, he’d substituted Ford parts. That’s against the law.”
“You’re lying, and you know it.”
“I’m what?” He gasped the words. “Have you forgotten who you’re talking to?”
“Oh, I know who you are. You’re a liar, that’s who you are.” Feeling as if she would explode, she went into the kitchen, knowing that Willard wouldn’t move for fear of exciting Caesar, and used the wall phone to call Sloan. “Since he’s assassinating your character, I thought you might like the opportunity to straighten him out.”
“I’ll be right there, and don’t let him out of the house, not even if you have to keep him there with Caesar’s help.”
She didn’t believe Sloan was guilty of that or of any other crime, but she had suddenly realized that Willard was a coward, that he would attempt to intimidate a woman—he did that to a church full of women every Sunday morning, keeping them so scared that they always remembered to pay their tithes—but would probably not confront a man.
Caesar’s bark alerted her to the fact that Sloan’s car was in front of her house, but when the doorbell ran, the dog didn’t run to greet Sloan but stood his ground, watching his prey. She opened the door, kissed Sloan and took his hand.
“Sloan, this is Reverend Willard Marsh from whom I’ve been divorced one year and two weeks. Thank the Lord.”
She looked at Willard. “Willard, this is Sloan McNeil. I suggest you besmirch his character to his face instead of attempting to harass me. Have a seat.” It didn’t escape her that Caesar did not sit beside her as usual, but sat in the foyer. One could get out of the front door only with Caesar’s permission.
“What possessed you to tell Lynne a lie about me?” Sloan asked Willard, cutting to the chase. “You know nothing about me. I do not work at a service station. I own the service station, plus another one. Furthermore, my reputation as a service provider is spotless. If you can’t show me a legal document that says I was indicted for anything, anywhere at any time in my life, I’ll sue you for all you’re worth.”
Willard seemed to shrink in size. “I was told—”
Sloan didn’t let him finish. “You made it up, but you’re playing with the wrong man. I detest unscrupulous people, but to find a preacher guilty of it is sickening. Your problem is that your wife woke up to her rights and to your incompetence and meanness and divorced you. You want her back. Well, buddy, you can forget that. Lynne Thurston is mine. She belongs to me, and neither you nor any other man is going to do anything to change that. You had six years, and you blew every damned one of them. Continue to harass her, and you’re going to jail. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get your ass out of here and stay as far from San Antonio as you can get.”
Lynne had never seen Sloan so angry and, although she believed he could control it, she wasn’t satisfied that Willard wouldn’t do or say something reckless. She got up. “I’d like you to leave, Willard. This minute.”
Willard pursed his lips, and his face had all the serenity of a thundercloud. “You’ll be—”
Again, Sloan interrupted Willard. “Don’t tell her she’ll be sorry. That’s a threat, and I won’t sit here and listen to you threaten her. Do you understand?”
She hadn’t ever seen Sloan so edgy, seemingly ready to pounce—although he spoke in a calm, modulated voice—but she knew that a powerful anger surged within him. “If you’re smart, Willard,” she said, “you’ll leave while you can go under your own steam.”
True to his arrogant nature, he stared at her, but this time, she had the trump card and didn’t hide her glee when she said, “You’ll either catch it in here or at the door where Caesar is waiting.”
Sloan took his time unfolding himself from the lounge chair in which he sat. “And let this be the last time you say anything to Lynne Thurston.”
Willard started toward the front door, stopped and looked back at her, opened his mouth and closed it without speaking. She smothered a laugh, and went and stood beside the dog who reclined in the foyer.
“Let yourself out, Willard.”
The door closed behind Willard Marsh, and she hoped it had closed for all time. Without Caesar and then Sloan, he would have attempted to intimidate and abuse her as he had during their marriage. Good riddance! Nonetheless, she was neither engaged nor married to Sloan McNeil and, therefore, she hadn’t given him the right to tell anybody that she belonged to him. “We’re nipping this in the bud right now,” she said to herself and headed back to the living room to let him know he’d overstepped his bounds.
“Where’d that Joe get the nerve to come here acting as if you’re his wife?” Sloan asked her.
“Willard is stupid, but you are not. I want to know who gave you the right to announce that I belong to you? I certainly didn’t.”
He stared at her with a puzzled expression on his face. “I remember telling you twice that you belonged to me, and you didn’t dispute it. In fact, you informed me that, in that case, I belonged to you. That gave me the right to tell that jerk to stay away from my woman, that you belong to me. What I didn’t tell him was the consequence he could suffer if he didn’t leave you alone.”
Her anger had begun to dissipate, but she wouldn’t give in. “That didn’t mean you should broadcast it—that was between you and me. Anyhow, I’m my own woman.”
“You’re mine. If you don’t believe it, come here.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” she huffed, but he spread his legs, leaned back in the chair and gazed at her. All she could see was his masculinity, his strength and his tenderness. She tried to shift her gaze from his, but his eyes darkened to obsidian, and she could feel the man in him jumping out to her, heating her, and the longer he did, the hotter she got.
He leaned forward slightly and extended his arms. “Come here, baby.”
She didn’t remember moving, but within seconds, she was in his lap, on her knees facing him, and his arms were locked around her. She opened her mouth for his tongue and he thrust into her. In the back of her mind, she thought, I haven’t finished my lunch. But then, his erection bulged against her pelvis and she undulated helplessly against him.
“Do you want me? Do you?”
“Yes. Yes.”
He stood and carried her up the stairs to her bedroom. She thought
he’d taught her everything there was to learn about the feelings a woman can have with a man, but his lips seared every centimeter of her, front, back and sides, and then he claimed her with his tongue, before thrusting into her and bringing her to orgasm again and again. When, at last, he spent himself with a shout of surrender, he looked into her face.
“I’m deeply in love with you. Does any man other than me have the right to say that you belong to him?”
With barely the energy to answer, she said, “There’s no one, and I have never loved any man but you.”
“Do you belong to me?”
“In my heart, yes, but not legally.”
“After the US Open, I hope to change that. For now, can we each agree not to see other people? I asked you this before, but now, I’m asking for a commitment.”
“All right. I agree.”
He smiled so beautifully and so sweetly that she tightened her arms around him, closed her eyes and whispered, “You’re so sweet.”
Within seconds, she felt him harden inside of her, and when her eyes widened, he grinned, kissed her and, within a few minutes, they flew to the sun.
“I’d like to go with you to Paris for the French Open,” he said. “I haven’t been there since I finished college.”
“You’ve been to Paris? I’ve never been there. I’d love for you to come. That will be a tough tournament, though, because clay is definitely not my best surface. Give me a hard court and after that, I’ll take grass.”
After Sloan left with the agreement that they would see a movie together that evening, she pondered her agreement to allow Sloan to accompany her to Paris. Brad would certainly know about it and, if she knew her brother, he’d show her, and perhaps Sloan, his worst side. Well, her commitment was to Sloan, not Brad. She’d deal with it as it came.
Chapter 11
During the weeks that followed, Sloan trained new workers and began grooming Jasper for the responsibility of managing the third service center when and if he opened it.
“Whenever I’m not here,” he told his employees at the San Antonio service center, “Jasper is in charge.” To Jasper, he said, “Whenever you need me and can’t reach me, check with Ben. I’m expecting you to manage my next service center. That probably won’t happen for the next eighteen months to two years, but it will happen.”
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