by Diana Palmer
And with that surprising statement, he turned and walked off. Nicole stared after him with eyes that brimmed with unshed tears. He was very protective of her, and she wondered if he realized it. He wasn’t saying what he felt, but she knew instinctively that he shared some of the warm feeling that was growing inside her. But whether he’d ever give in to it was anyone’s guess. As for Nicole, it had shocked her to realize that she had none of her usual defenses when he was near her. And that realization kept her quiet all through supper and beyond bedtime. What an unexpectedly complicated thing this vacation of her boss’s had become. She hoped that she was going to be able to cope with the new and disturbing feelings that Winthrop had unearthed in her.
Life sailed into a pleasant routine after that. She and Gerald settled down to work, and Nicole spent her free time exploring outdoors or watching Mary in the kitchen. Winthrop was pleasant enough, but he kept things cool, although from time to time she found those dark, quiet eyes watching her in a way that excited her beyond bearing.
Two days later, she heard cattle bawling and excited male voices, and she succumbed to the need to see Winthrop. The cattle were massed at a makeshift corral just away from the barn and the stables, and Winthrop was on his horse, helping to drive cattle into a holding pen where they were apparently being vetted and vaccinated and examined and treated for diseases or infestation by grubs.
That weak leg didn’t seem to bother the big man one bit on horseback. He could cut and rope with the best of them, and the wilder the horse, the better he seemed to enjoy himself. He laughed deeply and with obvious pleasure the whole time. She imagined that when he was in the saddle he could forget how ungraceful he was on the ground.
Not that a limp made him any less a man. He bristled with masculine sensuality. She could see quite easily how he’d gained a reputation in his youth as a playboy. He was devastating physically, and he had a voice that even in memory could make her flush with pleasure. Her heart hadn’t been the same since that unexpected embrace on the porch. She could close her eyes and hear his voice all over again, as it had been that evening, and she could almost imagine it in a dark room, coaxing, deliberately seductive….
Warmth coursed through her and she forced herself to watch the men and the cattle. Winthrop had climbed off the horse to help catch a calf, apparently one that needed doctoring. He looped his rope and undid it, lazily coiling it while one of the other cowboys threw the calf and began to do something to it. Winthrop was rubbing his leg, and the limp was even more pronounced when he turned, leading his horse by the reins.
He saw Nicole at the fence, and he stood very still for an instant. She could feel his anger even at the distance, and made a discreet and quick withdrawal. He was headed in her direction, so she changed it and walked quickly into the forest that encircled the house.
Why she should have been embarrassed, she didn’t know. But she knew he was angry, even before he caught up with her minutes later.
She stopped, catching her breath. He was right behind her, still leading the horse. As he walked, he favored that right leg.
“Running away?” he taunted. “Why?”
She stared at him. It was silly to be so ill at ease with him, but his expression wasn’t at all welcoming. “I don’t know,” she said quietly. She was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved yellow sweater. He had on a shirt the same shade of yellow and brown as his jeans, and she thought illogically how well they matched.
He lifted his dark head. “Don’t you? What are you doing—spying? Did you want to see if the cripple could still throw a calf?”
She went forward without thinking and put her soft hand over his mouth. “Don’t,” she said softly. “Don’t do that to yourself. You’re not a cripple. You’re a man with a limp.”
The feel of her fingers shocked him. The gesture was unexpected and it threw him off balance. He caught her smooth hand, holding it near his cheek as if he couldn’t quite decide what to do with it.
He stood over her, breathing roughly, his eyes dark with pain and anger as they searched hers. His fingers contracted absently around hers, bruising a little, but she didn’t protest.
“I don’t want you here,” he said quietly, his eyes narrow, piercing.
“Yes, I know.” She moved her fingers experimentally, and he let them go. She touched his cheek, tracing the long scar down his jaw, into the dimple in his chin. It was incredible how secure she felt with him, and not the least bit afraid. She sensed something in him, something vulnerable and tender, and she wanted to reach it. She needed to reach it, although she didn’t understand why. “You don’t talk about it, do you? Not ever.”
His broad chest rose and fell. He was very close. Too close. She could feel the muscles ripple when he moved, feel him breathing, feel the warmth of him in the chill air.
His fingers slid into her hair, hesitantly, feeling the curls as he moved his hands to her nape and turned her head up with firm gentleness.
“It’s been one hell of a long time since I kissed a woman,” he said half under his breath, looking down at her coldly. “Don’t you realize that you’ve been inviting that for days? I’m not a boy, and I’ve gone hungry in recent years. I can’t play games, I even told you so. You could start something that would ruin both our lives.”
She let him pull her head back. She looked up at him unafraid, her eyes soft with understanding and compassion. “I’m not afraid of you,” she said softly.
“I could make you afraid, Nicole.”
His voice was velvety soft and deep. Her lips parted, because it was as sensuous as she’d imagined it would be. She liked being close to him. She wanted his mouth and her lips parted in subtle invitation. She might have imagined herself in love with Chase James, but never in her life had she felt anything as sweet as this.
He looked down at her soft mouth, seeing it open, and something in him snapped. He bent quickly, covering it with his hard lips. He wanted to hurt her. She was a child, playing at sensuality, and he wanted to make it so rough that she’d stop tormenting him with emotions he never wanted to feel again….
She yielded completely, no thought of fighting him. His mouth was hard, warm and tasted of tobacco and it was only then that she realized how expert he really was. He made no allowances for her youth, and despite her small experience with Chase, this was her first real taste of passion. It was devastating, this helpless feeling he caused in her. She sighed hungrily, letting him draw her completely against the powerful hard length of his body, letting him crush her against it. Her mouth yielded eagerly to his insistent lips, tasting the tobacco tartness of his tongue as it pushed into her mouth, penetrating her in a silence that blazed with kindling sensations.
Her hands grasped his shirtsleeves, holding on, because her knees were getting weak. His arm at her back arched her, the hand at her nape tangled in her curly hair. He made a sound deep in his throat and lifted his head, his eyes black and blazing as they probed her dazed ones.
“Aren’t you going to fight me?” he taunted with a faint, mocking smile as his mouth poised over hers.
“No.” She reached up, sliding her arms around his neck. Her mouth was soft, parted and waiting, tempting his. “Oh, no, I want it, too!”
“Nicky …”
It was a groan, her name on his lips. He bent, half lifting her up to him. But this time, he didn’t try to hurt her. This time, he was achingly gentle. His hard mouth slowed and softened on hers, and he kissed her with a subdued passion that aroused all her protective instincts. Poor, tormented man, she thought. So much love in him, all wasted on the wrong woman. And now he was driven to hurt back, out of fear that it was going to happen again. But it wasn’t, she thought, her heart blazing with compassion. It wasn’t, because she’d never hurt him.
She closed her arms tight around his neck and opened her mouth for him, drawing it over his as she was learning he liked it. Her tongue teased at his full lower lip and he made a sound that corresponded with the tautening of his bod
y.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered against his lips. “I don’t … know much about this. I’m sorry if I did it wrong.”
He lifted his head again. He was breathing roughly, and his eyes had a haunted look. The hand in her hair caressed gently. “You really are a virgin, aren’t you?” he murmured with a tenderness he wasn’t aware of.
“I guess it shows,” she whispered dryly. She looked down at his shirt, missing the sudden shocked delight in his eyes. “I haven’t had a lot to do with men in the past few years.”
He brushed the curly hair away from her face, touching her with pure wonder. Yes, this was what he’d been uneasy about, this vulnerable side of her that attracted him. He’d tried so hard to avoid this confrontation. Ridiculous, really, when it was inevitable that he was going to feel her warmth in his arms, savor the soft nectar of her mouth. He’d known she was nearby, back at the corral. He’d sensed her somehow. “Why were you watching me?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I needed to.” She shifted, burying her face against his broad shoulder. “You disturb me,” she whispered shakily. “It frightens me.”
“It shouldn’t.” He held her, rocked her. His mouth touched her forehead in a kiss as gentle as the arms that held her. “I won’t hurt you again.”
She nuzzled her face against him. “It’s very exciting, being kissed like that,” she whispered shyly.
He smiled. “Is it?” He tilted her chin up and searched her eyes. “Then let’s do it again,” he whispered into her open mouth.
It was wilder this time, hotter, more unbearably sweet. She gave him her mouth and melted into the hard contours of his body with a soft moan. It wasn’t until she felt the tautening, felt the sudden urgency in the mouth devouring hers, that she realized things were getting out of control.
She put her hands against his wildly thudding chest and pulled her lips away from his. “No,” she said shakily.
He bit at her lower lip, his head spinning. “No?”
“You’re a man … and experienced,” she whispered. “I’ve never … and I can’t. I’m sorry.”
He was breathing roughly, but he didn’t seem to be angry. He brushed his mouth over her eyes, closing her eyelids. “Do you want to?” he whispered, smiling.
“What a ridiculous question. I expect you know the answer,” she said dazedly.
“I suppose I do, at that.” He sighed, wrapping her up against him. “Hold tight. They say it passes, eventually. I can’t vouch for it, of course. I’m not in the habit of drawing back at this point.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she moaned.
“I won’t die.” He nuzzled his cheek against hers, rocking her. His arms had a faint tremor, but his breathing was calmer now and his heartbeat had stopped shaking them both. “What a potent little package you are. I didn’t plan this. I meant to … hell, I don’t know what I meant to do. Scare you, maybe.”
“You did.”
He laughed. “Like hell I did, you were with me every step of the way. I could have laid you down in the grass and—”
“Hush!”
He drew back then and looked down at her, frowning, his eyes wary and searching. She was flushed, and her eyes had an unnatural brightness, as if she were holding back tears.
“What are you so afraid of?” he asked quietly, touching her eyelid gently to release a long, silver tear. “It was passionate, but still just a kiss. I didn’t even try to touch you in any way that would have offended you.”
“It isn’t fear,” she whispered. She lowered her eyes. How could she explain to him the intensity of her feelings, the aching tenderness she was beginning to feel for him?
“Are you afraid of intimacy?” he asked very quietly.
She lowered her eyes to his chest and closed them. “I’m afraid of getting involved. Just as afraid as you are,” she added. And it was true. She’d given her heart to Chase—she’d almost given her body to him. And he’d betrayed her trust. How could she risk it again?
“Why?”
She looked up at him. “Why are you?” she countered, searching his quiet eyes.
He bent and touched her forehead with lips that were breathlessly gentle. “I loved her,” he whispered, “in my way. It was the first time I’d ever felt more than a physical hunger for a woman. When she walked away from me, I wanted to die. I swore I’d get over it, but I don’t know that I really have. The scars go deep.”
She touched his face gently, running her fingers slowly along his hard cheek. Amazing, how exquisite it was to be near him.
“I got thrown over by my fiancé,” she confessed. “He decided he wanted a rich girl, and I wasn’t …” She almost added “anymore” but she caught the word in time.
He searched her soft green eyes. “You didn’t sleep with him,” he said, gazing at her intently.
“That’s hard to explain.” She stared at his top shirt button. It was undone, and thick dark hair peeked out against his tanned skin. “I wanted the first time to mean something. What hurts the most is that I never felt that way about him. I thought I loved him, but I never thought about sleeping with him.”
That was the truth. Seeing how fast living had ruled her parents’ lives had soured her on that part of life. Intimacy had become to them as careless as handshakes, and Nicole had determined that it would be treated more reverently in her own life. Perhaps, in retrospect, that was one of the reasons Chase had left her. He’d pushed her toward intimacy more and more after their engagement, but she’d resisted stubbornly. And now, standing close in Winthrop’s arms, she was savagely glad she’d resisted.
There was more to it than that, he knew, but she wasn’t volunteering any more information. He studied her quietly, thinking how much like him she was. He ran his finger down her cheek. Secretive, too, but he’d get more of an explanation eventually. It was insane to be so pleased that she was still innocent. It excited him, as sophisticated women never had.
“I could eat a moose,” he said conversationally. “Why don’t we rush back to the house and raid the freezer? Can you cook, in case Mary decides to try out for the Rockettes one day?”
She laughed at him. His humor had surprised her. Was this the real man? Had that cold veneer finally melted away? “Yes, of course I can cook. Why would Mary want to try out for the Rockettes?”
He shrugged. “She threatens it once or twice a winter. She saw them on television once and was sure she was just the right height, even though her legs were a bit large. I haven’t taken her seriously in past years, but as I get older, my stomach worries.”
“Don’t you worry, Mr. Christopher, I’ll take care of you,” she murmured and turned toward the house. “Are you walking or riding?”
He sighed and grimaced. “I guess I’m riding,” he muttered. “Damned leg hurts like hell.”
She had a feeling he wouldn’t have admitted that to anyone but her. It was the best kind of compliment. She smiled and shook her head when he offered to let her ride with him after he’d painstakingly mounted the horse and was sitting regally on its back.
“It wouldn’t do your leg much good,” she reminded him. “I’ll just walk alongside and look up at you adoringly, if you don’t mind.”
“That’ll be the day,” he mused.
She looked up. “What happened to your leg?” she asked softly.
“Bone damage and torn ligaments. I was pinned in the car when she wrecked it,” he said simply. “The surgeons repaired it as best they could, but there were complications. I’ll always limp. And when I overdo, I’ll always hurt.” He glanced at her. “I had a choice between limping or giving up the leg. I came in with a matched set and I intend to go out the same way.”
She pursed her lips, feeling mischievous, and almost asked an outrageous question. Then she blushed wildly and turned away.
He guessed the question and burst out laughing. “No,” he murmured. “It doesn’t cramp my style in bed.”
She gasped, glaring at him. “I never—”
/> “You might as well have written it in twelve-inch letters on canvas,” he retorted.
Her mouth opened and then closed while she thought up searing retorts, none of which came to mind. Later, she’d think up hundreds, she was sure. But the thought of him in bed with another woman made her feel jealous and angry. And it showed.
He stopped, fingering the reins in one lean hand and waited for her to look up at him. His dark eyes, shadowy under the wide brim of his hat, watched her. “I’ll qualify that,” he said after a long exchange of eyes. “I don’t think it will cramp my style. I haven’t been with a woman since it happened.”
Her breath caught, but she didn’t look away. It was such an intimate thing to know about him, and she struggled to think of a suitable reply.
“That wasn’t fair, was it?” he asked with a slow smile. “And I can’t tell you for the life of me why I wanted you to know that. But I did. We’d better get home. It’s getting dark.”
She lowered her eyes to the trail that led back to the house. His revelation shouldn’t have mattered to her, but it did. She smiled softly to herself, unaware that he saw the smile, and understood it.
He lit a cigarette and rode along beside her with a carefully hidden smug expression while he smoked it. “How about dinner tomorrow night? I’ll drive you into Butte.”
She felt chills to the tips of her toes and a wild excitement that was new, like the sudden tenderness between herself and Winthrop. “If Gerald doesn’t need me, I’d love to,” she said.
He hesitated. He looked down at her curiously, but he didn’t speak. “Okay.”
She wondered about the reason for his withdrawn expression and the odd silence the rest of the way to the house. That was good, because it kept her from thinking about the way he’d kissed her. She’d never felt more threatened in her life, and the worst of it was that she wasn’t even afraid of what might happen between them.
He glanced at her just once, shocked by the surge of jealousy he felt at her remark about Gerald. It was that, too. Jealousy. He was afraid that there was something between this woman and his brother, and his own sense of honor and family wouldn’t allow him to trespass on Gerald’s territory. He wanted her to be heart-whole. He wanted that desperately. Could she have kissed him that way and still belong to Gerald? Surely not!