It took him a long time to calm down. She stroked him and soothed him, and wondered at the force of his passion.
"It had been a long time, hadn't it?" she whispered softly.
He levered himself over her and searched her misty eyes with regret and pain in his own. "I took you," he said jerkily.
"Not exactly," she murmured with a warm smile.
"For God's sake...!"
She arched up and kissed his mouth softly, tenderly, smiling against it.
"Don't..."
Her hips twisted sensuously under his and something that should have been impossible, suddenly wasn't. Deliciously surprised, she closed her eyes and kissed him harder.
"Oh, God," he ground out. And then he stopped talking. She locked her arms behind his neck and held the kiss until the world exploded around them again. Finally, exhausted, they slept in each other's arms.
She awoke before he did, slipping back into her dress while she studied his long, elegant body on the bed. He was beautiful, she decided. Not cultured and citified and well-mannered. But beautiful and sensitive and
he'd make the most marvelous father
Her face burned as she recalled the long night. Well, it was too late for regrets now. He'd marry her. He'd have to. Because if he didn't, she fully intended to move in with him anyway.
She went into the clean, neat new kitchen and found an equally new refrigerator that had been recently filled. She cooked eggs and bacon and thick, fluffy biscuits and made a pot of coffee. When she'd set the table, she went back into the bedroom.
He was sprawled on his back, still sound asleep. She sat down beside him and bent to brush her mouth slowly over his.
"Baby..." he whispered hungrily, and reached up to kiss her lips. Then he stiffened. His eyes opened. He looked up at Mandelyn and his face went white. "Oh, my God. It happened."
"You might sound a little less horrified," she murmured drily. "You seemed to enjoy it enough last night."
His hands went to his eyes and he rubbed them. "I had a bottle of whiskey and then I went to bed. And..." His eyes opened. "You seduced me!"
She sighed. "That's what they all say," she said with mock weariness.
He sat up in bed and stared straight into her eyes. "You seduced me!" he repeated roughly.
"Well, you needn't make such heavy weather of it, Carson, I'm surely not the first woman who ever did," she reminded him reasonably.
“You were a virgin!''
She grinned. "Not anymore."
"Oh, God!"
She got up with a sigh. "I can see that you're just not in the mood to discuss this right now. So why don't you come and have breakfast?"
He threw his legs over the side of the bed and stared at her departing figure. "Why?"
She turned at the doorway, her eyes soft and possessive. "Don't you know?" And she walked out.
He made his way into the room minutes later. He was dressed now, in jeans and a brown patterned shirt and boots. But he looked half out of humor and bitterly regretful. He glared at her as he sat down.
“What a horrible expression," she remarked, handing him the platter of scrambled eggs.
"Aren't you even upset?" he burst out.
"Should I be? I mean, you did drag me into bed with you and..."
"I did not!" he growled. "You did it, you crazy little fool!"
"That's no way to talk to the mother of your children," she said calmly and poured coffee into the thick mug beside his plate.
"Children..." He put his face into his hands. "You knocked me so off balance I couldn't even hold back. What if I got you pregnant?"
"I like children." She smiled softly. "Just think, Carson, if we have a little girl, I can teach her how to be a lady. And if he's a boy, you can teach him the guitar."
He looked up with bloodshot eyes, staring as if he didn't believe what he was hearing. "Mandy?"
Her fingers reached out and brushed over the back of his with an adoring pressure. She searched his eyes and all the amusement went out of hers. "I love you," she whispered. "I love you more than anything else in the world, Carson. And if you'll just let me live with you, I won't even ask you for anything. I'll cook and clean and have babies and you won't know I'm around, I'll be so quiet...!"
"Come here," he said in a voice that shook with emotion. "Oh, God, come here!"
She went around the table, to be dragged down into his arms and kissed to within an inch of her life.
"Love...you," he groaned against her mouth. "So much, for so... long. I was dying...."
"Darling, darling!" she whispered, clinging, loving, worshipping him with her hands, her mouth.
He couldn't seem to get enough of her soft, eager mouth. He tasted it and touched it and kissed it until it was tender from the rough pressure. His mouth slid down her body, against her breasts.
"It was me," she guessed, closing her eyes as she remembered the pain she'd caused him. "It was me you were being tutored for, because... because you thought I wouldn't want you."
His arms tightened. "Eight years, Man-delyn," he said unsteadily. "Eight years, I worshipped you. And it got to where I couldn't eat or sleep or live for loving you. I wanted to fit into your world, so that I'd have a chance with you."
"And as it turns out, yours suits me very well," she said humbly. "You were right, Carson. Your world is real and honest and the people don't put on airs. I like it better than mine." She clung to him. "Let me live with you."
"Always," he promised. "All my life. All yours. But first," he said curtly, lifting his head, "we get married. Pronto."
Her eyebrows arched. "Why the rush?"
"As if you didn't know, you little witch," he said. His big hand pressed against her stomach and he kissed her roughly. "Whispering that to me last night, when I was doing my damnest to keep my head, to stop myself. Whispering that you wanted my baby. And I went crazy in your arms. You were damned lucky I didn't hurt you."
"I wouldn't have cared," she murmured contentedly. "It was so sweet, so heavenly. Oh, Carson, I loved you and I knew, I thought, I hoped you loved me. And you were so tender, and I wanted to make it perfect for you."
"It was perfect all right. Both times," he added drily. "After we've been married a few years, remind me to tell you that what happened was impossible, will you?"
She grinned. "You said yourself you'd been a long time without a woman.”
"That wasn't why," he said. His eyes held hers. "It was wanting you. Obsessively."
She kissed his closed eyelids. "I felt the same way. I could have died the night we went to the ballet. Those things I said...and when I heard about your driving the car into the pool, I got sick all over. I wanted to go down on my knees and apologize. I missed you and I loved you and I knew I'd die without you."
"I felt the same way," he confessed. He drew her close and held her securely on his lap. "Then yesterday, at the rodeo, you touched me and I wanted you so badly that..." He sighed. "I got the shock of my life when you started crying after I pushed you away. I was terrified that you were going to get in the car and have a wreck. I trampled two people getting to you. And then I knew just how bad I had it—that I was going to waste away without you. I knew you wanted me, then. But I didn't think you loved me." His eyes searched hers. "I thought you came to me last night out of pity."
She shook her head. "It was love."
"I should have realized that you'd never give yourself without it." He sighed.
"You're much too fastidious for love affairs. Even with wild men you desire."
"You're not wild," she murmured. "You're just a maverick. I love you the way you are, Carson. I wouldn't change one single thing about you. Of course, I'll never go with you to another ballet... oh!"
He pinched her and laughed uproariously. "Yes, you will," he murmured. "We'll take the kids. I want them to be polished. Not like their father."
"They'll have a lovely father," she sighed, kissing him again. "Wh
en are we going to get married?"
"Today."
She sat up, and he pulled her back down. "We'll drive down to Mexico," he said gently. His eyes searched hers. "It has to be done right. Making love to you without my ring on your finger doesn't sit well. Does it?"
She lowered her eyes to his broad chest. "No," she confessed.
He tilted up her chin. "But I don't have one single regret about last night. That was the consummation. That was the wedding vows. Now we make it right."
Her fingers touched his mouth. "I adore you," she whispered passionately. Her gray eyes searched his blue ones. ''I want you so much."
His hand touched her stomach, flattened, caressed it. "Tonight," he whispered. "After we're married. It will be better this time. Slower. Sweeter."
She trembled and leaned toward him, but he shook his head with a tender smile. "First you marry me. Then you sleep with me," he said.
"We got it backwards."
"We'll get it right this time," he promised, smiling. "Up you go. I want to call Patty and see if she and Jake will stand up with us."
"They way things are going with them, it might be a double wedding," she laughed.
He looked down at her. "I was jealous of Jake."
"I was jealous of Patty. When she kissed you that night, I wanted to mop the floor with her."
He searched her eyes and smiled wickedly. "Yes. I saw that. It was the only glimmer of hope I had."
Her mouth fell open. She started to speak, but he bent and put his lips on hers. And since it felt so good, she gave up protesting and wound her arms around his neck. He might not be the world's most polished man, but he was the only one she would ever love.
They drove down to Mexico, and Mande-lyn and Carson said their vows in muted, solemn voices while Jake and Patty looked on.
Mandelyn looked into his eyes while she spoke the words, and he couldn't seem to look away, even when it was time to slide the ring on her finger. He did it blindly, with amazing accuracy. And then he bent to kiss his wife.
It was a beautiful day, and Mandelyn felt like a fairy princess. She clung to Carson's lean hand, hardly believing all that had happened. When he suggested that the four of them stop by a bar on the other side of the border for a drink, she was too happy to protest.
"Isn't this nice?" Patty sighed as Carson and Jake went to get drinks. "I loved your wedding. Jake must have enjoyed it, too,” she added with a grin, "because he proposed under his breath while you two were sealing the ceremony with that absurdly long kiss."
Mandelyn blushed. "I hope you'll be as happy as we are," she laughed.
"I hope so, too. Didn't it all work out..."
"What the hell do you mean, 'move over, Pop'?" Carson's deep, angry voice came across the room like a cutting whip and Mandelyn opened her mouth to say, "Oh, Carson, don't," when the sound of a hard fist hitting an even harder jaw echoed in the sudden silence.
Mandelyn gritted her teeth. "No," she groaned, watching Carson going at it with a man just his size. "Not on my wedding day. Not just before my wedding night!"
"Carson's tough," Patty promised her. "Quit worrying. It will be all right."
Just as she said that, a man who'd been standing beside Carson's opponent picked up a chair. Mandelyn's mouth flew open. Her temper flared like wildfire. That was her husband that ruffian was about to hit!
"Mandy, no!" Patty called.
But Mandelyn was already bounding over chairs. She picked up a vase from one of the tables and threw water, flowers and all into the face of the man holding the chair.
He sputtered, wiped himself off and glared at her. "Women's libber, huh?" he said curtly. "Okay, honey, put up your dukes."
"Whatever happened to chivalry?" Mandelyn wondered out loud. She brought her high heel down on the man's instep and when he bent over, she brought up her knee. The blow was apparently very painful, because he went sideways onto the floor.
She grinned, heady with success. "Hey, Carson..." she began.
Just about that time, the man who'd been trading blows with Carson took one too many hard rights and careened backwards into Mandelyn. He rammed against her and she fell headfirst into a huge planter full of ferns.
Wet, covered with dirt, she heard the sounds of the brawl escalating all around her as she struggled to get up again. As she raised her head, Carson came flying backwards from an uppercut and landed against her, and in she went again.
Somewhere there was a siren. And minutes later, she was extricated from the planter by a heavyset, blue-uniformed man who looked as if he had absolutely no sense of humor at all.
"We can explain all this," Mandelyn assured him in her most cultured voice.
"I’m sure you can, lady, but I assure you, I've heard it all before. Come along."
"But we just got married," she wailed, watching Carson being led out between two burly deputies.
"Congratulations," the uniformed man said blandly. "I'll show you both to the honeymoon suite."
As they waited to be booked Mandelyn leaned against the wall staring daggers at her new husband. Her hair was thick with dirt and traces of green leaves; her dress was ruined.
Carson cleared his throat and sighed. "Well, honey," he said with a grin, "you have to admit, I've given you a wedding day you'll never forget."
She didn't say anything but her eyes spoke volumes.
He moved closer, oblivious to the noise and confusion around them. "Mad at me?" he murmured.
"Furious, thanks," she replied.
"My Charleston lady," he whispered, smiling with such love that her poise fell apart.
"You horrible, horrible man," she murmured, "I love you so much!"
He laughed delightedly. "My poised little lady, right at home in a barroom brawl. My God, you laid that cowboy flat! I've never been so proud of you...." He lifted his head and looked stern. "But never again, honey. I don't want you fighting, even to save me. Especially not now," he added. His gaze went to her waist. "We don't know yet, remember,” he whispered tenderly.
She flushed and looked up into his eyes. She knew exactly what he meant.
He bent and kissed her very gently. She managed a watery smile.
"Oh, I hope I am," she breathed fervently.
His chest rose and fell heavily. "We can make sure, if you want," he replied in a voice hoarse with passion.
"Is it too soon?" she asked.
He shook his head. "Not at our ages. We'll just be spreading love around, that's all." He grinned.
She laughed. "You can sing lullabies," she said. "And I'll sit and listen."
"Remember that song I wrote— Choices?" he asked, searching her eyes. She nodded. "I wrote it for us. That's right," he added when she looked stunned. "I thought someday, if you ever started noticing me, I could sing it to you, and it might tell you something."
She sighed miserably. "And I was too busy being jealous of Patty to listen to the words," she mumbled.
"I'll sing it to you tonight, while we make love," he whispered.
"And here we are in jail," she moaned.
"Patty and Jake will be here any minute to bail us out," he promised. He grinned. "Don't you worry, honey. Everything's going to be fine. Next time, I won't hit, I'll just cuss. Okay?"
She burst out laughing, loving him with all her heart. "Okay. But don't change, will you?" she added seriously, searching his pale, glittering blue eyes. "Darling, I love you just the way you are."
He looked at her for a long time before he spoke. "I'm no gentleman."
"I'm no lady. Remember last night?" she whispered.
He trembled and kissed her quickly again.
Nearby, two slightly intoxicated men were staring at them. Mandelyn thought she recognized them from the brawl.
"Ain't that the blonde who threw the vase at me?" one asked the other, who squinted toward her.
"Yep. Looks like her."
"And kicked me on the foot and knocked me out with her knee?"
"The very same one."
The burly man grinned. "Lucky son of a gun," he slurred.
Carson glanced at him with a slow grin. "You don't know the half of it, pal," he murmured and bent his head again.
Mandelyn smiled, feeling as if she had champagne flowing through her body. "Darling, about that brawl..."
"What about it?" he murmured absently.
She grinned. "Could we do it again sometime?"
And that was the last thing she got to say until Jake and Patty came along to bail them out. Not that she minded. She was already making plans for the night and whispering them to a glowing new husband.
END
Rage of Passion (12-1986)
For my niece
Helen, who sews a fine seam
Chapter One
The telegram crumpled in the slender hand, a scrap of badly used timber that would have served better as the tree it once was. Pale-green eyes stared down at it, hated it.
“Is it bad news, Mama?''
Becky's soft young voice broke through the anguish, brought her back to the reality of the huge empty Victorian house and the plain, withdrawn child.
"What, darling?" Her voice sounded odd. She cleared her throat and helplessly twisted the crumpled telegram in her hand. "Bad news? Well... yes."
Becky sighed. She was so old for six, Maggie sometimes thought. Her life had been disordered from the very beginning. An exclusive boarding school hadn't made her an extrovert; it had only emphasized her painful shyness, made it more obvious.
”Is it Daddy again?" Becky asked quietly. She read the answer in her mother's worried eyes and shrugged. "Well, Auntie Janet is coming today," she said with childlike enthusiasm and smiled. "That should make you feel better."
Margaret Turner smiled back. Her daughter's rare smiles were magic. "So she is, although she isn't really your aunt. She's my godmother. She and your Grandmother Turner were best friends. What a nice surprise for us, meeting her last week. She didn't even know I had you, you lovely little surprise, you."
Books By Diana Palmer Page 12