Sweet Words of Love

by Betty Brooks

  What had put it there? she wondered. Was he afraid of the future, that she would expect more from him than he was willing to give?

  Her pride found that completely unacceptable, so she hurried to correct that notion. "It's pasttime I went home, Thorne. Would you make the arrangements for me?"

  "You want to go home?" It was obvious he was puzzled by her request. "Why, Rainey?" he asked. "You aren't well enough to travel yet."

  She could not dispute the words since she always felt weak as a kitten whenever she left the bed for even short periods of time. ''I will be soon, though,'' she told him. "And I want to leave the moment the doctor says I'm well enough to travel."

  "All right," he agreed. "But we must detour by St. Louis first.I have some unfinished business there . . . with my father. Eugene Lassiter has some fences to mend and I need to make sure he doesn't shirk that duty. He must be made to provide for Lolly's future."

  "You like her, don't you." It was more a statement than a question.

  "Yes. I do. Even though they have different mothers, she is very much like Eloise. And no matter the place where she worked, it is obvious to me that she is of very good character."

  "I am sure of it even though I've never met her." She looked around him, toward the door. "Is she in there, Thorne? In the sitting room?"

  "No. She went out with Tyler. She expressed a wish to visit her grandfather's grave, so he rented a boat to take them to the bayou."

  "Tyler? He's the detective you hired?"

  "Yes." Thorne grimaced ruefully. "Tyler Duncan seems to have appropriated my sister. A bystander would take him for her brother instead of me."

  "Do I detect a note of jealousy there?"

  "Perhaps. But only a little. A new brother would expect to receive some attention . . . at least a passing interest, but Tyler Duncan is always around. From the moment she wakes in the morning until she goes to bed at night. He's even neglecting his business, and the Lord only knows if he can afford to."

  "Things sound serious between them." She looked down and fingered the coverlet. "Do you expect them to marry?"

  “I’m afraid that's what Tyler has in mind," he said grimly."And I intend to speak to that young man soon about his intentions."

  "Why do you sound so grim?" she asked. "Would marriage to Tyler be so bad for your sister?"

  "It's not just marriage to Tyler," he explained."I would find her marriage to anyone just as objectionable."

  "Most women want to marry," she said softly.

  "And they are usually so eager to attain that state that they marry the first man who comes along," he said gruffly. "But I do not intend for that to happen. Eulalie deserves to be happy. And I intend to see that nobody, however likable he is, takes advantage of my sister while she is so vulnerable." Thorne rose to his feet and crossed to the window, staring down into the courtyard below. When he returned to her, his face was set in determined lines. "Rainey," he said gruffly. "We haven't yet talked about what happened."

  "You know what happened," she replied. "Cage Larson pushed me down the stairs."

  "I know what he did, and he's paying for that," he said abruptly. "But that's not what I was talking about. It's the baby, Rainey. Why didn't you tell me there was to be a child?"

  "I didn't-"

  "You did know," Thorne interrupted. "The woman who sold you the infant gown brought it to the hotel."

  Then the gown hadn't been lost after all. She was glad of that. It was the only thing left of her child . . . except its memory. "I wasn't sure about it," she said. "I guessed, thought it might be true, but it was too soon to be certain."

  "You bought the gown," he said again.

  "It was just that . . . it looked so pretty in the store window ... and I thought . . . there was a chance there

  was a baby, and I wanted that dress for it to wear," she finished in a rush.

  "And you were happy about it?"

  Tears moistened her eyes and spilled over. "Yes," she replied. "I was happy about it."

  "There could be other children, Rainey," he said, kneeling beside the bed and cupping her face between his palms, and wiping the tears away with his large thumb. "We could have many children . . . if you'd marry me."

  For a moment Rainey couldn't speak. She wanted to marry him. God, how she wanted it. But he was only proposing because he thought he had to. Thorne had always taken care of her. From the moment he'd arrived on Thunder Mountain, he'd made that his primary duty.

  And he was still doing it.

  She couldn't allow him to ruin his life by making that ultimate sacrifice, even though he seemed bent on doing just that. And when Thorne made a decision, there was no swaying him. But she had to, just had to make him see what he was doing to both of them. She loved him desperately, but if she married him without his love, then their marriage was doomed before it even began.

  "I can 't," she said softly, even though it was like tearing out her heart to say the words. She sought a way to sway him, to make him see it would not work. "I really ought to say yes, though," she told him. "It would serve you right if I did."

  "Serve me right?" He studied her intently. "What do you mean, Rainey? Why can't you marry me?"

  "You ought to know why, Thorne," she said sharply. "Marriage is for people who love each other in a certain way. If one of them only loves the other-like a brother loves a sister-then the marriage would never work."

  She swallowed around her pain, and felt a tear roll slowly down her cheek.

  He wiped it away gently, and the grim look slowly left his face. "You're right," he said sadly. "A marriage like that would never work. We would wind up hating each other, and I don't want that, Rainey. I couldn't stand the thought of you ever hating me."

  "I won 't ever do that, Thorne," she said, leaning her cheek against his, taking comfort from his nearness. "No matter what happens I would never hate you."

  He sighed and rose to his feet. His gaze never left her face. "Rainey. Is it Robert Golden? Is that why you can't . . . love me?"

  "Robert Golden?" For a moment Rainey had trouble remembering who Robert Golden was. Then suddenly it came to her. He was the teacher she had been so fascinated with. She opened her mouth to deny any feeling for the man, then realized she'd been given an out. Thorne would believe she was in love with Robert Golden, and they would both have their pride left to them. "Yes," she said, dropping her eyes to evade his probing gaze. "It's h-him."

  "I see." He straightened abruptly, lifting his head at a sharp angle. "I should've known, I guess. But somehow, I thought you'd forgotten him."

  I did, her heart cried. I had forgotten, Thorne. My heart remembered no one but you, dear heart. But she couldn't say the words aloud. She dared not do so. Thorne must never, never know how she felt.

  Twenty Three

  "Look, Lolly!" Rainey exclaimed, leaning forward in the carriage and pointing toward the Lassiter house. "That house up ahead . . . the big one, is where your father and your sister live."

  Lolly frowned and studied the large house they were approaching. She'd known her father had money but had had no idea just how wealthy he was. The house was larger even than Madam Louise 's house of pleasure. She leaned closer to Tyler and he covered her hand with his own. She couldn't help but notice that Thorne had seen the gesture and that it was most likely what caused the frown on his face. For some reason he objected to Tyler's attention to her.

  All too soon they were at the front door. It was opened abruptly, even before they could knock, making it apparent someone had been watching for them. The

  young woman who faced them was so like Thorne in appearance that it was obvious they were related, even before she spoke.

  "Eulalie." The woman said with a smile. "Come inside and let me look at you."

  Eloise was everything Lolly had dreamed of. She welcomed her long-lost sister so enthusiastically that it made up for Eugene Lassiter's cool reception. It was obvious from the first time they met that he'd rather keep her identit
y hidden from St. Louis society.

  But Thorne would not allow that.

  The next day Eloise and Lolly and Rainey went on a shopping spree to end all shopping sprees. Each one of them tried on so many gowns that they were totally exhausted by the time they returned home. But they enjoyed those trips of theirs, each woman having taken to the other instantly as though they'd known one another all their lives.

  And when they'd decided enough clothing had been purchased to launch both Eulalie and Rainey into society, Thorne and Tyler escorted them to the opera.

  They'd only barely arrived at the opera house when they bumped into Mary Burton, an elderly matron who was considered the head of St. Louis society. The woman was wearing a pale-rose gown made of heavy velvet. It was obvious she was suffering from the heat, because she fanned herself continually while they spoke together.

  "Gossip has it that you brought a long-lost sister home with you," Mary Burton said, her gaze flitting between Rainey and Eulalie. "I suspect one of these young women is that same sister?"

  "Your suspicions are right, as usual," Thorne said, clasping his fingers around Eulalie's arm and pulling her forward slightly. "Allow me to introduce my sister Eulalie Lassiter. Lolly, this outrageous lady is Mary Burton."

  "Outrageous am I?" Mary smiled widely and, closing her fan with a snap, she slapped Thorne's wrist smartly. "This brother of yours was always a teaser." She looked across at Tyler. ''I don't know this young man. But it's obvious that he's in love with your sister. Is there a wedding in the offing? If there is, it's too bad." Tyler scowled at her. "Yes, young man. Too bad. The young woman has only just met her family and now you plan on taking her away again. Shame on you.''

  Lolly blushed rosily. "No, ma'am," she said quickly. "We've made no plans for such an event."

  "You'd best get to it soon, young man," she said. Then, to Rainey's extreme discomfort, she became the object of Mary Burton's attention. "Who is this young woman, Thorne? And why is she standing here gaping at me?"

  "My name is Rainey Watson, ma'am," Rainey said quickly, revealing her own identity, lest the woman say something outrageous about her association with Thorne. ''And I didn't mean to gape."

  'Tm sure you didn't, but-"

  Thorne's fingers curled around Rainey's forearm. "I'm sorry, Mary, but you must excuse us. We have to find our seats while there's still time."

  They left her then, and when Rainey chanced a quick, backward look, she saw that Mary Burton had already turned her attention to another couple.

  "I swear," Eloise muttered. "That woman's tongue is constantly wagging. Don't pay her any mind, Lolly. She really doesn't mean any harm. But she does have a knack for asking the most embarrassing questions."

  "Yes," Lolly muttered, her face still warm with color. "She does, doesn't she."

  Rainey enjoyed the opera immensely. But her pleasure was dimmed by the knowledge that she must leave soon. To stay longer would surely invite heartache.

  That night, long after the others had retired, Rainey tossed restlessly on her bed, wondering if she was making a mistake in leaving so soon. It was a decision, though, that could be put off no longer.

  Sorely troubled, and knowing that she'd never fall asleep while in such a restless state, she donned her robe. The garment had been a gift from Eloise, a soft, silky, blue thing that clung to her curves in a way that she found slightly embarrassing. But it was late enough that the others should have retired for the night. Or so she thought until she entered the library.

  Thorne lounged beside the fireplace, a glass of amber liquid in his hand.

  "I didn't expect to find anyone here." She pulled at the robe, where it gapped between her breasts. The action only served to draw his gaze.

  "Is something wrong?" His cheeks were flushed and she realized he must have been drinking to excess, something that she'd never known him to do before.

  "What could possibly be wrong?" he inquired, shifting his gaze to his glass. "I just felt like a drink."

  "Several drinks," she corrected.

  "Whatever," he said indifferently. "Why are you here?"

  "I couldn't sleep. I came for a book."

  "Help yourself." He waved toward the wide book­ cases that lined the wall. "I don't suppose you would like a drink?"

  "No, thank you." She crossed the room to study the spines of the books. 'I will just get my book."

  "Couldn't sleep?"

  "No."

  He quickly downed the contents of his glass and went to pour another one. "What's your excuse?"

  She studied him for a long moment, noticing a vulnerability about him that she hadn't seen before. She was reluctant to tell him of her decision to leave, yet knew there would be no better time than the present to do so.

  "Thorne, I've been meaning to talk to you about going home."

  "Where is home, Rainey?"

  Wherever you are, her heart cried, but she spoke no words, just held his gaze over the distance that separated them.

  Appearing to be unaffected by her decision to leave, he reached for a handful of peanuts, which were kept on a nearby table. Then, darting her a quick look, he said, "It's past time I went home, too. I have a good foreman but he's been handling things alone for some time now. Too long. Lolly is settled in, so there is nothing else to keep me here."

  ''You don 't have to come with me," she said.

  "Yes, I do." His voice was gruff. "When do you want to leave?''

  "Tomorrow." It had been easy after all. So easy that she could have cried. He seemed to care nothing that when they returned to Thunder Mountain they would go separate ways. He, to his farm; she to her grandfather's cabin.

  Did he care nothing at all? She studied the glass in his hand. Carefully averting her eyes from him, she whispered, "Why do you feel a need for spirits, Thorne?"

  His voice was husky, jerking her gaze back to his. "Because I can't stop thinking of those nights we shared." "Neither can I." Her voice was a shaky whisper, and she could feel the hot color flushing her cheeks, but she refused to look away.

  "What are we going to do about it?" He watched her intently. "We can't just pretend those nights never happened. Can we?"

  His gaze shifted to the fullness of her breasts, and her color deepened, yet she remained silent. After all, what was there to say? She was afraid if she uttered a sound, it would be to beg him to come to her room.

  Would that really be so wrong? a silent voice asked. Why should not I take what he offers? Why can't I be happy for just a little longer?

  She was aware of him watching her silently from across the room, the glass in his hand completely forgotten.

  "I want to be with you desperately, Rainey," he said huskily. "Let me come to your room."

  She looked up apprehensively, helpless in the pull of his silvery eyes. "We can't, Thorne," she whispered.

  Suddenly he was across the room in three long strides, his nearness unsettling as he pulled her into his arms. Bending his head, he brushed his lips over her eyelids, her eyebrows, in a silent caress that made her tingle with incredible sensations. The feather light touch of his mouth against her flesh made her knees weak, and they seemed to be made of nothing more substantial than wet noodles.

  "Why?" he asked softly, drawing back to watch the play of emotions cross her face. "Why can't we?"

  She gazed at him, mesmerized, her eyes darkened with slumberous passion.

  Thorne’s breath rasped harshly as he met her look with one of hunger. Desire burned in his eyes as his hands caressed her face tenderly, his thumbs outlining her lips, seeming to sense her surrender. "You want it as much as I do," he said huskily, persuasively.

  It was true. She wanted the feel of his naked flesh against hers again, its hard strength that took her breath; the touch of his hands on her breast, stroking, caressing. His mouth closed over hers again, tenderly, so sweetly, that she caught her breath at the exquisite sensation. Easing up on her tiptoes, her fingers entwined in his dark hair, she held him close
r, ever closer. "Thorne," she whispered pleadingly, achingly.

  "Yes, Rainey," he exulted, lifting her into his arms. "Yes, darling, yes." He carried her up the stairs, into her bedroom, and laid her down on the bed, joining her swiftly. A tender smile curved Rainey's mouth as she gazed up at him. She didn't care anymore. Tonight she would take what he offered. Tonight she would lie in his arms again.

  Thorne's hand moved to smooth back her hair, his fingers curving gently around her chin. He lifted it to allow his lips access to hers. His tongue and lips tantalized the corner of her mouth, gently stealing her breath away from her.

  Sliding his hand around her waist, Thorne pulled her closer against his hard, lean frame. Her body melted against him then, her silky legs sliding intimately be­ tween his, while her fingers moved up his chest, curving into his shoulders.

  Her mouth savored the slow exploration of his lips and tongue, and with firm pressure, she responded naturally and easily with her own.

  His heart pounded in erratic unison with her own as he dealt quickly with their clothing, and despite the weakness that assailed her, her senses were sharp and alert.

  Rainey felt his hands slide down to curve possessively over her buttocks as he pulled her tightly against his hardened thighs. Desire mounted, and her breath came in short gasps. His body proved to be so well acquainted with hers that he knew the instant she was ready to receive him. He plunged into her, deeper, fuller, so certain of his right to take her.

  Every part of him concentrated on that mysterious haven that was the very essence of Rainey. She felt fully alive for the first time since she'd lost the baby, and she reached heights of loving that went far beyond the physical union.

  The next morning Rainey packed her valise, preparing for the long trip ahead. She'd told Eloise and Lolly of her decision to leave. Although they had protested that decision, they realized they could not sway her, so they accepted the fact that she'd be leaving them.