by Janet Dailey
“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled sleepily near her ear.
“Nowhere—now,” she softly added the last.
“Then come back here.” His hand glided down her stomach and pressed to fit her again to the curve of his lean hips. The casual intimacy was more than her senses could handle. Somehow her awareness was transmitted to Deke. “Something wrong?”
Her muscles were tensing with excitement as his hand lingered familiarly near her legs. “I’m used to sleeping alone,” Angie whispered.
“So I discovered,” Deke murmured and nuzzled the hair along her neck. “Are you sore?”
“A little,” she admitted and tried to ignore the faint tremors within. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.” Now that he was awake, he might leave and Angie was just beginning to enjoy the idea of sleeping with him.
His hand shifted back to her breast and immediately became motionless. Angie didn’t understand the reason for his sudden stillness until his thumb rolled around the hardened point of an aroused nipple. She was left in no doubt of his reaction when Deke stiffened in response.
“You’ve disturbed me ever since the day we met,” he declared with sudden briskness. “That hasn’t changed.” In the very next second, he was rolling her onto her back. He loomed above her. “Damn you for making me want you, Angie.” Then everything was blotted out by the fierce possession of his kiss, demanding that she give all he wanted to take. And Angie had never been able to deny him anything he wanted.
The telephone jangled a second time before the sound penetrated Angie’s exhausted sleep. Only this time when she awakened, she didn’t have to wonder whose arm was around her. She knew it belonged to Deke. Moving as little as possible so she wouldn’t waken him, Angie reached out a hand and picked up the receiver. She glanced at Deke, dark lashes still closed in sleep. His chiseled, male features were relaxed, their innate strength tugging at her heart.
“Hello.” She spoke in a very low voice, thick with sleep.
“Is that you, Angie?” Since she had expected to hear Ted’s voice on the other end of the line, she was surprised to recognize Marissa.
“Yes.” Angie stiffened in sudden apprehension.
“Deke had the name of this motel written down, but the manager kept insisting you weren’t registered. I was practically out of my mind before it hit me that you probably hadn’t used your own name.” She sounded frantic. “I just had to talk to you before Deke comes in.”
“What’s wrong, Marissa? Is it Lindy?” Angie’s first thought was that something had happened to her daughter.
The receiver was taken out of her hand before she heard the answer. Deke was awake and had commandeered the phone, its cord stretching across her. “What is it, Marissa?” he asked while Angie scanned his face anxiously.
“Is Lindy all right?” she whispered and was relieved when Deke nodded, smiling at her briefly.
“What was that? I didn’t quite catch what you said,” he directed his reply to the phone, although he continued to look at Angie. “I guess I’m not awake yet.”
Assured now that Lindy was well, Angie became self-conscious when she realized Deke had admitted he’d spent the night with her. To her, it was still something very private. She wasn’t sure if she was ready for his sister to know, but it was too late. Deke had already intimated as much.
“No, it doesn’t,” Deke said in response to a comment from Marissa. “What time is it?” There was a pause, then his mouth crooked. “That late, huh?” He levered himself onto an elbow, facing Angie. “Tell Lindy I’ll be home around noon. We’ll talk then.” He reached across her to hang up the phone, then stayed partially leaning over her when it was done. There was something hooded about his steady look, something that made his expression unreadable. It made her uneasy, a sensation that didn’t entirely go away, even when his hand stroked her cheek in a light caress.
“Why did Marissa call?” Angie asked when it appeared Deke wasn’t going to tell her.
He caught at a lock of tawny blond hair and watched it slide through his fingers. “She was worried about you,” he replied in an absent tone. When his glance returned to her face, there was a wry lift to one side of his mouth. “She knew I was angry when I came here last night. I suppose she thought I might harm you in some way. Now she knows differently.” “I see,” she murmured inadequately and avoided his gaze, focusing her attention on the brawny width of his bare chest, tanned and muscled.
“Does it bother you that my sister knows we slept together last night?” Deke guessed at the reason for her reticence.
“A little,” Angie admitted, because she didn’t know what it meant. No commitment had been made. Was it something that had happened because of their past affair? Had it merely been an act of gratifying sexual urges? Or did the cause run deeper? Angie was reluctant to ask Deke—just as she was reluctant to delve into her own heart. Whatever was in it was too fragile at the moment to endure a cold examination.
“It isn’t as if we never knew each other before last night,” Deke mocked her lightly.
“I know,” she murmured and pushed aside the covers to climb out of bed. Deke didn’t try to keep her there.
But he questioned, “Are you getting up now?” By implication, he was suggesting there was another activity they could pursue.
Without looking at him, she ignored his subtle invitation to return to the bed and his arms. “It’s late.” She was much too self-conscious with him—too vividly aware of his eyes on her. She was worried that he might guess a secret that she herself didn’t know. In the center of the room, Angie paused to pick up her robe from the floor and slip it on before continuing to the bathroom.
When Angie left the bed, Deke leaned back on the pillow and cradled his head with his hands. He watched her walk away, a graceful nude—slim and shapely—female beauty in its natural form and he wanted to possess her, but he restrained that hot desire.
If Marissa hadn’t called, he might have been tempted—but she had phoned. Deke had known his sister would call if she had the opportunity. He had known it last night. Angie hadn’t. She hadn’t even guessed. There was no sense of triumph—no satisfaction in successfully intercepting the call. Deke stopped pretending it was the reason he’d stayed all night, instead of leaving after he’d made love to Angie the first time.
His blood was stirred by the sight of Angie’s softly rounded hips and the jutting angle of her firm breasts. When she disappeared inside the bathroom, Deke faced the bitter truth at last. He hadn’t gotten her out of his system. He was still hooked on her and he despised himself for being so weak.
Swinging his feet out of bed, he sat up on the edge and reached for the jockey shorts and Levis on the floor. His mind was already working on the plan that had been taking shape all night long. Deke didn’t attempt to justify the Tightness of it or the fairness—not even to himself.
Leaning over the sink, Angie cupped her hands under the running tap water and splashed it on her face to rinse off the soap. She repeated the process twice more and turned off the water. As she reached for the towel to dry her face, she thought she heard a knock at the motel room door. She heard the door open and guessed that Deke had answered it.
An instant later, he called for her. “Angie! It’s for you.”
With the towel in hand, Angie opened the bathroom door and stepped into the room. Her questioning glance ran first to Deke, clad only in his Levis. He was barefoot, standing by the door. Amusement glittered dryly in his gray eyes.
“There she is.” He half-turned to address the man in the doorway. “Without even a scratch or a bruise.” Then Deke was once again looking at Angie, but she was staring at Ted’s grim expression. “Mr. Sullivan insisted on seeing for himself that you were unharmed.”
In silent accusation, Ted looked from Angle’s semi-decently clad figure to the bed that showed obvious signs of being slept in by two people. The glance he turned on Deke was filled with bitter loathing. Anyone with half an eye
could see that Deke had just gotten up. His dark hair was rumpled from sleep and there was the shadow of a night’s growth on his lean cheeks. Angie’s face was warm with self-consciousness at the knowledge that burned in Ted’s eyes.
“Hello, Ted.” She moved hesitantly toward the door, aware that Deke seemed to be absently amused by her discomfort.
“I tried to call, but your line was busy.” His look seemed to imply they’d taken the phone off the hook.
Before Angie could respond, Deke moved away from the door and paused when he reached her. “If you’re through in the bathroom, honey, I’ll get cleaned up.” He said it so casually, as if they’d lived together for years, when in actuality they never had. Her heart did a funny little somersault at the easy endearment.
“You can use it,” she said, even though she still had to put her makeup on and brush her hair.
But Deke didn’t go on by her as she expected him to do. He framed her face with his hands and tilted it. His branding kiss seared her lips as his own, leaving little doubt that he re-guarded her as his possession. It left her shaken, a fact Deke noted when he raised his head.
“Get rid of him, honey.” His voice was low. The affectionate term was all that saved it from being an order. Angie wasn’t sure she liked the confident expression carved in his features. In the next second, Deke had released her and was striding toward the bathroom.
She hesitated briefly, glancing at Ted. He was angry and upset. She walked to the door, trying to think of something to say and coming up blank.
“I guess I don’t have to ask if you’re all right,” Ted declared on an irritated note. “It’s obvious you won’t be needing my help anymore.”
“I don’t know.” Which was the truth. Angie didn’t know what all this meant any more than Ted did.
He appeared to catch the sincerity in her voice and his gaze narrowed to study her. “Angie, did he force you to go to bed with him? I don’t necessarily mean physically.”
In all honesty, she had to admit, “No, he didn’t force me.”
“He strikes me as the type who could be ruthless.” Ted didn’t try to conceal his dislike. “I wouldn’t have put it past him to use your daughter to get you into his bed.”
“Well, that isn’t what happened.” Angie didn’t attempt to deny Ted’s claim because she wasn’t sure how well she knew Deke. Wasn’t he still a stranger? A stranger she knew intimately, but a stranger just the same. Yet, that wasn’t entirely true either. Deke was the father of her child. He had shown honor in marrying her seven years ago, and later, responsibility in assuming the care of their daughter. In addition, Deke possessed an inner strength and a keen intelligence. There were many qualities about him to admire. But this knowledge seemed to confuse her more. It was little wonder that Ted couldn’t understand.
“I guess there’s nothing to keep me here this weekend,” Ted concluded, but waited for her to refute it.
“Thank you . . . for coming,” Angie offered instead.
He sighed heavily in a disgruntled anger. “I thought I was too smart to be made into a fool by a woman.”
“That isn’t true, Ted,” Angie denied. “Don’t feel that way.”
“How am I supposed to feel when I know it could have been me in that bed this morning?” he argued.
His assertion angered her. “If it could have been, you would have been in it before this morning. But you haven’t been, have you?” she challenged, and Ted shifted uncomfortably. Stiffly polite, Angie continued. “I appreciate the help you’ve given me—and I hope you have a safe trip back to Houston.”
Ted hesitated, then mumbled a terse, “Good-bye, Angie ...” and walked away.
Regret mixed with her anger as she closed the door and leaned against it. She had the oddest sensation of being watched and looked up to find Deke studying her from the bathroom doorway, a towel in his hands. She straightened under his measuring look.
“I don’t think he’ll be back,” Deke remarked, and he resumed wiping his hands and arms on the towel.
“No, he’s left for Houston.” Which wasn’t what Deke was talking about, but Angie chose not to agree that she wouldn’t be seeing Ted again.
Wadding the towel into a ball, Deke turned and tossed it inside the bathroom. “Better get dressed.”
“I will.” Angie started toward the closet.
“Then you can pack.”
She stopped, a few feet from him. Without a razor, Deke hadn’t shaved, but his dark hair was combed in a semblance of order. “What did you say?”
“I said you could pack when you’re dressed,” he repeated his statement, his smooth expression showing no variance. Angie could only stare at him, not certain what that portended. There was a lazy curve to the line of his mouth. “You don’t think I’m going to let you stay in this place, do you?”
She couldn’t help being wary and a little suspicious despite their recent closeness. “Deke, if you think I’m going to leave and not see Lindy—”
“Did I say anything about that?” Deke mocked her, but Angie couldn’t see what was in his eyes. Their metallic color shielded his inner thoughts.
“Then where—”
A long, easy stride brought him to her side. His hands settled on her shoulders. “You’ll see,” he assured her and turned her toward the closet, giving her a little push. “Get dressed.”
Chapter Eight
While Angie made one last check of the motel room to make certain she hadn’t left anything, Deke carried her belongings outside. A few minutes later, she followed him. In the parking lot, she hesitated when she saw him stowing her things in the trunk of his car.
“Is that everything?” At her nod, he pushed the trunk lid shut and walked around to the driver’s door. He noticed her hovering uncertainly and said, “We’re taking my car.”
“What about mine?” Angie frowned, because Deke still hadn’t told her where they were going. “I can’t leave it here.”
“I’ll have one of my men pick it up,” he replied, and he opened the door on the driver’s side to slide behind the wheel.
After another uneasy glance at her car, Angie walked to the passenger side of his car and climbed in beside him. His gray glance touched her briefly, telling her no secrets. Then he was starting the car and driving away from the motel. It was moments like these when Deke was silent and uncommunicative that made Angie uneasy with him. This was when she doubted that she knew him at all.
With sidelong looks, she studied him. The cut of his profile was strong and forceful—the clean line of his jaw and the forward thrust of his chin. His cheeks were tanned lean and hard, the skin stretching tautly over his cheekbones and grooves etched at the corners of his mouth. A hat covered the virile thickness of his dark hair and shaded those impenetrable gray eyes. Her glance strayed to his mouth, so lacking in softness yet so capable of passion. Like his hands—she thought, and studied the work-roughened hands on the wheel. They were a man’s hands, firm in their grip and always in control whether it was controlling this car at fast speeds or controlling her.
There was no conversation as Deke pointed the car south of Goliad. This was the way he’d been after Angie became pregnant seven years ago and they’d married. He had never talked to her, not about things that mattered. He had never confided his feelings to her, nor asked how she felt. When Angie had tried to express her thoughts to him, Deke had usually brushed them aside with the phrase that had become meaningless from repetition—“We’ll work it out.” That’s when Angie had come up with her own solution for the situation that had become impossible.
Had anything changed?
Sighing inwardly, Angie turned her gaze out the window. The countryside was rough and broken, thick with scrub brush and mesquite and creased with dry washbeds. The autumn grass was tall and pale brown, cured by a Texas sun. Occasionally, Angie had glimpses of cattle lazing in the shade of live oaks.
The closer they got toward the Gulf Coast, the terrain changed into a mixture of
marshy pastures and cotton fields. They passed a smattering of natural gas wells and the grasshopper-headed pumps of an oil well or two. Live oak trees began to dominate the landscape. Every now and then a house yard would have a citrus tree, its branches heavy with yellow or gold fruit.
When Deke turned onto the highway to Rockport, Angie couldn’t contain her curiosity any longer. “Where are we going?” she asked again.
“Wait and see.” Deke refused to enlighten her. “We’ll be there soon enough.”
Within minutes after they’d entered the city limits of Rockport, Deke took the road that slanted away from the highway along the Ski Basin. Angie instantly guessed their destination.
“You’re taking me out on the Key,” she said.
“We aren’t using the summer house,” Deke confirmed her guess that he was taking her to the Spanish-styled home. “It’s just standing empty.”
Her feelings were mixed as they approached the house. There were so many memories attached to the place, but Angie wasn’t sure she wanted to live in the past. The clock couldn’t be turned back, she realized, and everyone lived with memories. But she still wasn’t sure why Deke had brought her here and he wasn’t in the habit of explaining his actions.
Deke parked the car in the driveway and climbed out. He was walking to the front door when Angie stepped out of her side. She didn’t hurry to catch up with him, letting her gaze wander over the white stuccoed walls and the tiled roof. She had always liked the house and fantasized about living there herself. Maybe that was what bothered her more than the memories associated with it.
When she reached the front entrance, Deke had the door unlocked and was waiting for her before going inside. “It’s been shut up since August.” His glance was brief as he pushed the door open and moved to one side to allow Angie to enter first. “It will need to be aired.”
