Texas Rich

by Fern Michaels

  An hour later he was shading his eyes from the golden sunshine to get a better look at the pretty young woman standing at the top of the airline’s portable stairway. One hand was holding on to a wide-brimmed picture hat and the other was trying to hold down the hem of her skirt. Good legs. Damn good legs. This wasn’t the same Billie Coleman he had met months ago. Thad sucked in his breath and stared a little harder.

  Billie crossed the tarmac, her hands still keeping her hat and skirt from the clutches of the playful breeze that was whipping about the airfield. Her eyes were anxious as they searched for Moss. The minute she spotted Thad she smiled. Wherever Thad Kingsley was, Moss would be close behind. But there was no sign of him. The smile stayed in place when Thad took her by the arm and escorted her toward the car. “It’s nice to see you again, Billie. Moss had duty and couldn’t be relieved. I’m to take you to wherever you’re staying and he’ll join you around six. I’ve got his gear in the Jeep. We’ll have to wait a few minutes till your luggage gets here. Do you have much?”

  Billie hid her disappointment well. “A trunk and four bags. I don’t think you’re going to get it all in the Jeep if you have Moss’s things, too.” She was a navy wife and had to get used to these wartime changes in plans. Six o’clock was only three hours away.

  “We’ll manage. There’s no way I can commandeer another vehicle today. This one was wheeled and dealed, so don’t ask questions.” Thad grinned. “Where are you staying?”

  Billie withdrew a slip of paper from her purse. “Mr. Coleman said it’s high up in the hills,” she said. “Supposedly there’s a cook and a gardener and it’s very private. I think Mr. Coleman said it was the main house on a macadamia plantation. Do you think you can find it?” she asked anxiously.

  “Didn’t Moss tell you? I have a trace of bloodhound in me. I’ll find it, Billie, and have you all set by the time your husband gets off duty.”

  “How is it you’re off duty and Moss isn’t?” Billie asked as she settled herself in the Jeep. Thad stared at Billie’s legs. He’d always been a leg man and an open admirer of Betty Grable. From now on the long-legged movie star was going to be relegated to the rumble seat.

  Thad waited till one of the ground crew secured Billie’s baggage in the back of the Jeep. “Because Moss is my superior and he gave me the day off. His superior is not as generous as your husband. Moss thought you would be more comfortable with me, since we’ve met before, and he trusted me to explain the situation. I know you’re disappointed but it can’t be helped. This is the navy.”

  Billie smiled, her whole face lighting up. “Six o’clock will give me time to unpack and take a bath. Perhaps it’s best this way. When you get back to the base, tell Moss I’ll be waiting.”

  “I’ll be sure to do that. Now, let’s have another look at that address.” Thad scrutinized the tiny square of paper and then drew a crumpled map from his flight coverall. “Okay, I know where you’re going. May I say, Mrs. Coleman, that your father-in-law has exquisite taste.” He smiled to show there was no jealousy in his statement. Billie thought she had never seen a more spellbinding smile. She liked Thad Kingsley.

  Thad whipped the Jeep through the gates and headed toward the north shore. He drove effortlessly, forsaking the Wahiawa turnoff for a route through Kunia. The road was narrow, running alongside the Waianae Mountains and through endless fields of pineapple and sugarcane.

  Thad expertly guided the car through Haleiwa, but instead of using the bridge to the north he opted to go left, past the harbor, so Billie could see the surf. The Jeep came to a stop. “Take a good look, Mrs. Coleman.”

  Billie’s gasp of pure pleasure was all that Thad needed to hear. He knew he had chosen the right route for Billie’s first look at Hawaii’s famous surf. The waves were breaking clean, eight to ten feet high. Native Hawaiians were scattered all along the shore stretching out nets for fish. Children were gathering shells to sell for a pittance to the military men

  “It’s unbelievable,” Billie said breathlessly. “I’ve only read about Hawaii. Seeing it is something else entirely. It’s gorgeous.”

  “Mrs. Coleman,” Thad teased, “you ain’t seen nothing yet. This is just a teaser.”

  “I didn’t think there was water so blue. It’s like a giant jewel.”

  “That it is. Come along now, I have to get you to your house.”

  Thad drove steadily for forty-five minutes. When he took a second quick look at his rumpled map he was relieved to see he hadn’t missed the entrance. Lush hibiscus and a monstrous banyan tree, like a giant umbrella, shrouded the time-worn iron gates at the entrance to Ester Kamali’s estate, where Billie was to stay. The snakelike drive eventually widened and became circular, edged on both sides by regal palms standing sentinel. Billie’s eyes widened. The house was long, low, and sprawling, with the sparkling Pacific below as a backdrop. Thad felt his breath hiss between his teeth. It was probably the most beautiful house he had ever seen.

  “Are we allowed to walk on the grass?” Billie whispered. “It looks like a velvet carpet. Doesn’t it, Thad?”

  “It looks like soft green fur to me,” Thad whispered back.

  “Why are we whispering?” Billie asked. Thad shrugged.

  Banks and mounds of scarlet hibiscus blinded Billie as they tripped across the emerald meadow. “What’s that smell?” Billie demanded, wrinkling her nose.

  “Plumeria. That’s what the island girls make the leis with. Sometimes they use orchids, but mainly plumeria because of its strong scent. It lasts forever, or so it seems. The maids in the local hotels hang strands of it in the bathroom showers for the guests.”

  “What a charming custom.” Billie sighed. “This has got to be the closest thing to paradise I’ve ever seen. Of course,” she said, laughing, “I’m not a world traveler. I only have Philadelphia and Texas to compare this with.”

  “I’m sure you and Moss are going to be very happy here. You have the Pacific at your back door and this gorgeous garden at your front. The house is a work of art. You go ahead and ring the bell. I’ll bring the luggage and then I have to hightail it back to the base.”

  A tiny woman attired in a bright red muumuu opened the door. Her smile was warm, welcoming. Her eyes sparkled like black stars in the small round face. “You dat same wahine Missy Kamali say is here?” At Billie’s perplexed look the little woman frowned. “You haole lady from far, I t’ink.” At a loss, Billie smiled and motioned behind her for Thad to hurry. The luggage should convince the housekeeper she had a right to be here. “No pilikia, no pilikia,” the little woman muttered, her face wreathed in a wide smile.

  Thad grinned. “She’s saying there’s no trouble. Pilikia means trouble. That’s one of the first words you learn over here.”

  “Ass awri,” the woman said, motioning them inside.

  “She’s telling us it’s okay. In other words, she’s been expecting you. I hate to leave you like this but you’ll manage. I’ve got to get back to the base. You do want your husband here on time, right?” Billie nodded.

  Thad pointed to the luggage and made a motion asking where it should be taken.

  “Dat humbug question? What’sa matah you. Phillip carry for wahine.”

  “That settles it.” Thad grinned and smacked his hands together. “I think you’re in good care. Give my regards to Phillip, whoever he may be. Welcome to Hawaii, Billie,” Thad said, and bent to kiss her cheek.

  “Thanks for everything, Thad. Don’t worry. I’ll manage here. Hurry—I don’t want you to be late or get in trouble because of me.”

  Thad’s step was jaunty as he sprinted across the velvety lawn. At the last second before leaping into the Jeep, he picked a lush hibiscus bloom and stuck it between his teeth. He drove at breakneck speed down the winding road with the colorful flower in his mouth. A native trudging along the road turned to stare in amazement. Thad laid the red bloom on the seat and started to whistle. Billie Coleman was one hell of a looker. Moss might be wise to keep her here in thi
s lush island hideaway.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  The hilltop house opened its arms to Billie. It was low, sprawling, yet not overlarge, and it gave her a cozy feeling of coolness and light, so different from Sunbridge, with its heavy leather furniture and somber colors. In this house, the first she would share alone with Moss, every room opened to the outside. The French doors leading to the patio were sheltered from sun and rain by the sloping overhang of the tiled roof. Beautiful gardens were part of every view and seemed to come indoors to blend with the light bamboo furniture and the vivid greens and whites of the walls. Graceful paddle fans were centered on every ceiling, creating a pleasant breeze. And the tang of the sea far below seemed to fill each room.

  Shown to the larger of the two bedrooms, Billie was welcomed by the scented sea breeze that billowed the sheer curtains hanging in the patio doorway. The carpet underfoot was eggshell white, bringing into relief the dark tones of native mahogany furnishings. The bed, headboard, and upholstered chairs were covered with fabric of pale blue flowers scattered over a deeper blue background. Here, too, a paddle fan beat the air in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. The pudgy dark-skinned housekeeper moved unhurriedly as she unpacked Billie’s bags, fingering the garments admiringly before hanging them in the louver-doored closet or laying them in sachet-scented drawers. Unwilling to break the spell this house was casting upon her, Billie silently crossed the room to find a tiled bath complete with tub, shower, and expanses of mirrors. Towels and accessories of palest blue complemented the eggshell fixtures and ceramic. This was indeed the loveliest house she’d ever seen and she was already wishing she could spend the rest of her life here with Moss.

  After partaking of a light meal of fruit, cheese, coarse bread, and a cool, exotic fruit punch, Billie occupied herself by taking a shower and washing her hair. She primped for Moss’s arrival, dabbing perfume between her breasts and behind her ears. From her closet she chose the intriguing Chinese dressing gown Moss had given her for Christmas. It was difficult to believe that the front edges once had barely met over her stomach. Now it fit perfectly and the tight sash accentuated her tiny waist. Nurse Jenkins’s firming exercises had worked wonders.

  Time was heavy on her hands. She walked the perimeter of the grounds surrounding the house. She arranged her toiletries in the bathroom and on the dressing table. She waited for Moss.

  She explored the efficient and surprisingly modern kitchen and waited for Moss.

  The minute hand on her slim gold watch hardly seemed to be moving. Again and again she shook her wrist, but she knew it was keeping perfect time. At last, weary from her trip, she fell across the bed and promised herself she would only close her eyes for a minute while she waited for Moss.

  Driving up the steep hill road, Moss cursed the time. Captain Davis was a man without a heart. It was already almost nine o’clock and twilight was deepening to that purple shade peculiar to Hawaii. And half an hour ago he’d taken the wrong turn and had had to double back. Pulling into the drive, he was greeted by dim lights shining through the patio doors. Billie was in there, waiting. His pulses beat a rapid tattoo and his blood was heated in anticipation. When he’d asked Thad how she was, his friend had merely winked and smiled slyly. “Moss, you’ve got one hell of a surprise waiting for you!” Now what the hell did that mean? And was he going to like it?

  Pulling the keys out of the ignition and stuffing them in his pocket, he carried his ditty bag to the front door. He decided to try the knob rather than clang the cowbells that hung from the eave. The door was open and the house was quiet. Not even a radio was playing. He followed the lights through the living room and into the bedroom. There, on the bed, lay Billie, one arm thrown over her head, knees bent, lovely face serene and composed in sleep. His eyes traveled the length of her from her slim ankles up her coltish legs to the width of her hips and the fullness of her breasts. Her waist was nipped, her belly flat. This was the Billie he’d married. Or was it? On closer examination, there was a new, angular quality to her face, the limbs seemed more elegant, slimmer, graceful. Had she done something to her hair? It was lighter, paler, sun-streaked, blonder than he remembered. And it had grown since Christmas, falling lustrously against her cheek. So this was the surprise Thad had hinted at. Billie was all grown up into a beautiful woman, riper, lusher. A slow smile grew on his face as he undid his tie and worked the buttons of his shirt.

  Billie thought she was dreaming. She felt herself taken into strong, warm arms, felt herself nestled against a broad deep chest. She didn’t want to awaken from this dream, so vivid, so languorously delicious. She felt his eyes upon her, heard him inhale her fragrance as he curled her beneath him. Her arms enfolded him, stroking his back, falling lower to his naked haunches where her palms smoothed over the curve of his buttocks. She heard her name.

  “Moss!” she murmured, pulling herself from her dream and deeper into his embrace. “Oh, Moss! I’ve missed you so.” She heard her voice, deep and throaty with desire. For months now she’d wanted him this way, dreaming about this moment every night, waking in a sheen of sweat, emptiness at her center. Now he was here, truly here, and she was in his arms and he was loving her.

  The Chinese silk robe fell open under his commanding fingers and when he captured her breast, its pink nipple rose to greet him and bring him delight. Slowly he teased her ear with his tongue, following the pulse points to her neck and throat. He wanted her, urgently, but he would take her slowly, deepening their pleasure. His hands traced the contours of her body, following its curves, caressing its hollows. He explored the recesses of her mouth and the silkiness of her thighs. This was his Billie, his wife, as familiar to him as the back of his own hand and yet, somehow, new territory to be charted.

  Her emotions were charged, more finely tuned than he remembered, and when she closed her hand over the proof of his desire she communicated her own demands.

  She hurried him with her kisses, excited him with soft mewlings and murmurs, undulated beneath his caresses. She wanted him now, desperately. She felt she would erupt with a wildness too long contained. There would be time later for luxuriating in his arms, to have his hands soothe this fever, to have his lips take possession of her inch by inch. But now she needed completion.

  Her thighs opened, her back arched, and he became a part’ of her. In the white heat of her passion she entrapped him, feeling him stroke within her, locking her legs behind his to take him deeply inside her where the warmth was building.

  For the next week and a half, Billie thought she’d died and gone to heaven. Long evenings with Moss, lying in his arms. Midnight swims in the little cove at the bottom of the hill. Quiet dinners on the lanai, looking up at the stars. Two nights ago Moss had invited Thad for supper and she’d repressed her giggles when her enthusiastic husband had thrown broad hints that it was time for his friend to leave. Moss liked to be alone with her, to have her to himself. It seemed he couldn’t get enough of her and this pleased her, because it was exactly how she felt about him. Hawaii was the the first time they’d been alone since their marriage. No Agnes, no Seth or Jessica, no one, just the two of them.

  On the last morning before he had to leave for his weekend duty, she lay beside Moss, hearing his light breathing and feeling his warmth. Her lazy gaze drifted over to the miniature traveling clock stitched with Sunbridge cowhide. The time was five-ten. She had to wake Moss in another five minutes if he was to make the long drive back to the base. She stored the memory of how Moss looked the way a squirrel stores nuts for the winter. How dear, how beautiful, how wonderful he looked! There was a certain boyish charm in his dark tousled hair, but the rest of this exciting person was all man. Her man. She relished the peacefulness a moment longer before she rolled to his side of the bed. At the precise moment the minute hand on the clock reached three, Billie smacked Moss on the rump, let out a war whoop, and leaped from under the sheets.

  “What the hell!” Moss bellowed as he fought with the covers. “A goddamn air raid at this time
of the morning!” Seeing Billie laughing, he fell back against the covers. “If you ever do that again, I’ll turn you over my knee.”

  “Is that a threat or a promise?”

  “All you have to do is test me, Mrs. Coleman.”

  “Some other time, Mr. Coleman. Right now you have to hit the shower. You’d better hurry or you’ll be late. Oh, Moss, I wish you didn’t have to go. It’s such a long time till you get back.”

  “Come here, Billie.”

  Billie practically ran to the bed and threw herself in Moss’s arms. “Oh, Moss, I love you so. This is all so perfect. This place, this house, everything is just so wonderful. I want to share every minute with you. The hours we have together are so few. I’m not complaining. It sounds like I am but I’m not. I understand. There are so many couples who don’t have what we do. I love you so. I guess that’s the reason.”

  “I know you do, you little vixen. What do you think? Do we have time for a quickie?”

  “Depends on what your definition of ‘quick’ is.” Billie giggled and tugged on Moss’s chest hairs. “Why don’t we take a shower together? I’ll wash your back and you wash mine. . . .”

  “And I’ll tickle your fancy and you’ll tickle mine.” Moss laughed, finding her suggestion exciting. He loved her skin when it was wet and slick with soap, yielding beneath the exploring press of his fingers, each curve and swell of her exquisite figure offering itself to him. He lifted the pale curtain of hair that fell across her face to kiss her. Her eyes shone with expectation and pleasure, her mouth was soft, her lips parted to allow him entrance. His arms closed around her, pulling her close, her nearness already affecting his desires. “Billie,” he murmured, “if you don’t go in and turn on the shower, we’ll never get there at all.”