by Diana Palmer
Kell was pensive when she got home. In fact, he looked broody. She put down her coat and purse. “What’s the matter with you?” she asked with a grin.
He put his laptop computer aside with deliberation. “I had a call from an assistant district attorney’s office in San Antonio, from the victim support people,” he said quietly. “Frank Bartlett got out of jail today.”
It was the day she’d been dreading. Her heart sank. He’d vowed revenge. He would make her pay, he said, for having him tried and convicted.
“Don’t worry,” he added gently. “We’re among friends here. Frank would have to be crazy to come down here and make trouble. In addition to the jail time, he drew a year’s probation. They’ll check on him. He wouldn’t want to risk having to go back to jail to finish his sentence.”
“You think so?” she wondered. She recalled what a hardheaded man Frank was. He got even with people. She’d heard things from one of her coworkers in San Antonio at the animal clinic, one who was friends with Frank’s sister. She’d said that Frank had run a man off the road who’d reported him for making threats at one of his jobs. The man was badly injured, but he could never prove it had been Frank who’d caused the accident. Cappie was sure, now, that there had probably been other incidents as well. Frank had admitted to her once that he’d spent time in juvenile hall as a youngster. He’d never said what for.
“He won’t be able to get to you at home,” Kell continued, “because I keep firearms and I know how to use them,” he added grimly. “At work, I don’t think he’d dare approach you. Dr. Rydel would likely propel him headfirst out the front door,” he chuckled.
Cappie was reminded that Dr. Rydel had actually done that. Dr. King told her about it. A man had come in with a badly injured dog, one with multiple fractures, claiming that the animal had fallen down some steps. After examining the dog, Dr. Rydel knew better. He’d accused the man of abusing the dog, and the man had thrown a punch at him. Dr. Rydel had picked him up and literally thrown him out onto the front porch, while fascinated pet owners watched. Then he’d called the police and had the man arrested. There had been a conviction, too.
Cappie, remembering that, smiled. “Dr. Rydel gets very upset when people abuse animals,” she told her brother.
“Obviously.” He pursed his lips. “I wonder why he decided to become a veterinarian?”
“I’ll have to ask him that.”
“Yes, you will. I made macaroni and cheese for supper,” he said, “when you called to say you’d be late.”
She made a face before she could stop herself.
Kell just grinned. “It’s frozen,” he said. “I heated it up in the oven.”
She sighed with relief. “Sorry. It’s just that I’ve had my carbon for today.”
He laughed. “I know I can’t cook. One day, though, I’ll learn how. Then watch out.”
“Some men are born to be chefs. You aren’t one of them. I’ll make a salad to go with the macaroni.”
“I did that already. It’s in the fridge.”
She went to kiss his cheek, bending over him in the wheelchair. “You’re the nicest brother in the whole world.”
“I could return the compliment.” He ruffled her hair. “Listen, kid, if the surly vet proposes, you take him up on it. I can take care of myself.”
“You can’t cook,” she wailed.
“I can buy nice frozen things to heat up,” he returned.
She sighed. “As if Dr. Rydel would ever propose,” she laughed. “He likes me, but that doesn’t mean he’ll want to marry me one day.”
“You need to invite him over again and make that shrimp and pasta dish you do so well. I have it from a spy that Dr. Rydel is partial to shrimp.”
“Really? Who knows that?”
“Cy Parks told me.”
She gave him a suspicious look. “Did you try to pump Cy Parks for inside information?”
Kell gave her his best angelic look. “I would never do such a sneaky thing.”
“Sure you would,” she retorted.
“Well, Dr. Rydel knew why Cy was asking him, anyway. He just laughed and asked if there was any other inside information that Cy would like to have for us.”
She flushed. “Oh, my.”
“Cy said the good doctor talked more about you than he did about the heifer he was helping to deliver,” Kell added. “It’s well-known that Dr. Rydel can’t abide women. People get curious when a notorious woman hater suddenly starts seeing a local woman.”
“I wonder why he hates women?” she wondered aloud.
“Ask him. But for now, let’s eat. I’m fairly empty.”
“Goodness, yes, it’s two hours past our usual suppertime,” she agreed, moving into the kitchen. “I’m sorry I was late.”
“How’s the dog?” he asked, joining her at the table.
“He’ll be fine, Dr. Rydel said. The poor boy was just devastated. I felt sorry for his dad. He’d just lost his job. You could see he was torn between getting the dog treated and taking care of his family. There’s a new baby. Dr. Rydel didn’t charge him a penny.”
“Heart of gold,” Kell said gently.
“We were going to take up a collection, when Dr. Rydel reminded us that he drove a Land Rover,” she laughed. “He inherited money from his grandmother, Dr. King said, and he makes a good living as a vet.”
“That means he’ll be able to take care of you when you get married.”
She made a face. “Horses before carts, not carts before horses.”
“You wait and see,” he replied. “That’s a man who’s totally hooked. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
She smiled from ear to ear as she started putting food on the table. She’d already pushed her fears about Frank to the back of her mind. Kell was right. He surely wouldn’t risk his freedom by making trouble for Cappie again.
Dr. Rydel took her to a carnival Friday night. She was shocked not only at the invitation, but at the choice of outings.
“You like carnivals?” she’d exclaimed.
“Sure! I love the rides and cotton candy.” He’d smiled with reminiscence. “My grandmother used to save her egg money to take me to any carnival that came through Jacobsville when I was a kid. She’d even go on the rides with me. I get tickled even now when I hear somebody talk about grandmothers who bake cookies and knit and sit in rocking chairs. My grandmother was a newspaper reporter. She was a real firecracker.”
She was remembering the conversation as they walked down the sawdust-covered aisles between booths where carnies were enticing customers to pitch pennies or throw baseballs to win prizes.
“What are you brooding about?” he teased.
She looked up, laughing. “Sorry. I was remembering what you said about your grandmother. Did you spend a lot of time with her?”
His face closed up.
“Sorry,” she said again, flushing. “I shouldn’t have asked something so personal.”
He stopped in the aisle and looked down at her, enjoying the glow of her skin against the pale yellow sweater she was wearing with jeans, her blond hair long and soft around her shoulders.
His big, lean hand went to her hair and toyed with it, sending sweet chills down her spine when he moved a step closer. “She raised me,” he said quietly. “My mother and father never got along. They separated two or three times a year, and then fought about who got to keep me. My mother loved me, but my father only wanted me to spite her.” His face hardened. “When I made him mad, he took it out on my pets. He shot one of my dogs when I talked back to him. He wouldn’t let me take the dog to a veterinarian, and I couldn’t save it. That’s why I decided to become a vet.”
“I did wonder,” she confessed. “You talk about your mother, but never about your father. Or your stepfather.” Her hands went to his shirtfront. She could feel the warm muscle and hair under the soft cotton.
He sighed. His hand covered one of hers, smoothing over her fingernails. “My stepfather thought that be
ing a vet was a sissy profession, and he said so, frequently. He didn’t like animals, either.”
“Some sissy profession,” she scoffed. “I guess he never had to wrestle down a sick steer that weighed several hundred pounds.”
He chuckled. “No, he never did. We got along somewhat. But I don’t miss seeing him. I had hard feelings against him for a long time, for letting my mother get so sick that medical science couldn’t save her. But sometimes we blame people when it’s just fate that bad things happen. Remember the old saying, ‘man proposes and God disposes’? It’s pretty much true.”
“Ah, you advocate being a leaf on the river, grasshopper,” she said in a heavily accented tone.
“You lunatic,” he laughed, but he bent and kissed her nose. “Yes. I do advocate being a leaf on the river. Sometimes you have to trust that things will work out the way they’re meant to, not the way you want them to.”
“Why do you hate women?”
His eyebrows arched.
“Everybody knows that you do. You even told me so.” She flushed a little as she remembered when he’d told her so; the first time he’d kissed her.
“Remember that, do you?” he teased softly. “You don’t know a lot about kissing,” he added.
She moved restlessly. “I don’t get in much practice.”
“Oh, I think I can help you with that,” he said in a deep, husky tone. “And for the record, I don’t hate you.”
“Thank you very much,” she said demurely, and peered up at him through her lashes.
He bent slowly to her mouth. “You’re very welcome,” he whispered. His lips teased just above hers, coaxing her to lift her chin, so that he had better access to her mouth.
Before he could kiss her, a deep voice mused from behind him, “Lewd behavior in public will get you arrested.”
“Kilraven,” Bentley groaned, turning to face the man. “What are you doing here?”
Kilraven, in full uniform, grinned at the discomfort in their faces as he moved closer and lowered his voice. “I’m investigating possible cotton candy fraud.”
“Excuse me?” Cappie said.
“I’m going to taste the cotton candy, and the candy apples, and make sure they’re not using illegal counterfeit sugar.”
They both stared at him as if he’d gone mad.
He shrugged. “I’m really off duty, I just haven’t gone home to change. I like carnivals,” he added, laughing. “Jon, my brother, and I used to go to them when we were kids. It brings back happy memories.”
“They have a sharpshooting target,” Bentley told him.
“I don’t waste my unbelievable talent on games,” Kilraven scoffed.
“I am in awe of your modesty,” Bentley said.
“Why, thank you,” Kilraven replied. “I consider it one of my best traits, and I do have quite a few of them.” He peered past them. Winnie Sinclair, in jeans and a pretty pink sweater and matching denim jacket, was walking around the penny-pitching booth with her brother, Boone Sinclair, and his wife, Cappie’s coworker, Keely. Kilraven looked decidedly uneasy. “I’ll see you around,” he added.
But instead of going to the cotton candy booth, he turned on his heel and walked right out of the carnival.
“How odd,” Cappie murmured, watching him leave.
“Not so odd,” Bentley replied. His eyes were on Winnie Sinclair, who’d just seen Kilraven glare in her direction and then walk away. She looked devastated. “Winnie Sinclair is sweet on him,” he explained, “and he’s even a worse woman hater than I am.”
Cappie followed his glance. Keely smiled and waved. She waved back. Winnie Sinclair smiled wanly, and turned back to the booth. “Poor thing,” she murmured. “She’s so rich, and so unhappy.”
“Money doesn’t make you happy,” Bentley pointed out.
“Well, the lack of it can make you pretty miserable,” she said absently.
His hand reached down and locked into hers, bringing her surprised eyes back up to meet his.
She was hesitant, because Keely was grinning in their direction.
“I don’t care about public opinion,” Bentley pointed out, “and she wouldn’t dare tease me in my own practice,” he added with a grin.
Cappie laughed. “Okay. I won’t care, either.”
His strong fingers linked with hers, while he held her gaze. “I can’t remember the last time I smiled so much,” he said. “I like being with you, Cappie.”
She smiled. “I like being with you, too.”
They were still smiling at each other when two running children bumped into them and broke the spell.
Bentley drove her home, but he didn’t move to open the door after he cut off the lights and the engine. He unfastened her seat belt, and his own, and pulled her across the seat and into his lap. Before she could speak, his mouth was hard on hers, grinding into it, and his fingers were lazily searching under the soft hem of her sweater.
She wanted to protest. It was too soon. But he found the hooks on her bra and loosened them with one quick motion of his hand. Then he found soft flesh and teased around it with such expertise that she squirmed backward to give him access.
“Too quick?” he whispered against her mouth.
“No,” she bit off, and arched her back.
He smiled as his mouth covered hers once more, and his hand settled directly over the hard little nub that raised against his palm.
After a few minutes, kissing was no longer enough. His hand moved in at the base of her spine and half lifted her against him, so that her belly ground against his in the rapt silence of the vehicle, broken only by the force of their audible breaths, and her soft moan. She could feel him wanting her. It had been exciting with Frank, but not like this. She wanted what Bentley wanted. She was on fire for him.
He unfastened the buttons on his shirt and pulled her against him, so that her soft breasts ground against the hair-roughened muscles of his chest. His hand moved her hips against his in a slow, anguished rotation that made her moan louder.
“Oh, God,” he bit off, shivering. “Cappie!”
Her nails were scoring his back as she held on for dear life and began to shudder. “Don’t stop,” she whimpered. “Don’t stop!”
“I’ve…got to!”
He moved abruptly, pushing her back into her seat. He opened the door and got out of the Land Rover, standing with his back to her as he sucked in deep breaths and tried to regain the control he’d almost lost.
Embarrassed, Cappie fumbled her bra closures into place and pulled her sweater down. She was still shaky. It had been a near thing. Thank goodness they were parked in her driveway instead of on some lonely road where there might not have been as much incentive to stop. Despite her passionate response to him, Cappie didn’t move with the times. Did he know that? Was he hoping for some brief fling? She couldn’t. She just couldn’t. Now, she reasoned with something like panic, he wouldn’t want to see her again, not if she said no. And either way, how was it going to affect her job? There was only one veterinary clinic in Jacobs County, and she worked for it. If she lost her job, she couldn’t get another, not in her field.
While she was torturing herself with such thoughts, the door suddenly opened.
“I know,” Bentley said in a strangely calm and amused tone, “you’re kicking yourself mentally for taking advantage of me in a weak moment. But it’s okay. I’m used to women trying to ravish me.”
She stared up at him wide-eyed and speechless. Of all the things she expected he might say, that was the last.
“Come on, come on, you’re not going to get a second shot at me in the same night,” he teased. “I have my reputation to think of!”
Her mind started working again, and she laughed with relief. She picked up her purse and scrambled out the door, her discarded coat over one arm.
“Listen,” he said gently, “don’t start brooding. We got a little too involved, too quickly, but we’ll deal with it.”
She hesitated. “I�
�m not, well, modern,” she blurted out.
“Neither am I, honey,” he said softly.
She could have melted into the ground at the husky endearment. She blushed.
He bent and kissed her with tender respect. “I know what sort of woman you are,” he said gently. “I’m not going to push you into something you don’t want.”
“Thanks.”
“On the other hand, you have to make me a similar promise,” he pointed out. “I’m not going to keep dating you if I have to worry about being ravished every time I bring you home. I’m not that sort of man,’ he added haughtily.
She grinned from ear to ear. “Okay.”
He walked her to the door, smiling complacently. “I’ll see you at work Monday,” he said. He framed her face in his hands and looked at her for a long time. “Just when you think you’re safe,” he mused, “you jump headfirst into the tiger trap.”
“You know, I was just thinking the same thing,” she said facetiously.
He chuckled as he bent to kiss her again. “We’ll take it at a nice, easy pace,” he whispered. “But I know already how it’s going to end up. We’re good together. And I’m tired of living alone.”
Her heart almost burst with joy. “I…I don’t think I could just live with someone,” she blurted out, still a little worried.
He kissed her eyes shut. “Neither could I, Cappie,” he whispered. “We can talk about licenses and rings.” He lifted his head. His eyes were soft with feeling. “But not tonight. We have all the time in the world.”
“Yes,” she whispered. Her eyes were bright with the force of her emotions. “It’s happening so fast.”
He nodded. “Like lightning striking.”
She felt her heart racing. But in the back of her mind, there was a sudden fear, a foreboding. She bit her lower lip. “You don’t really know much about me,” she began. “You see, when I lived in San Antonio, there was this man I dated…”
