Books By Diana Palmer

by Palmer, Diana

  "Too much TV," Donavan said. "We'll have to take a plug out of the set."

  Fay's head was whirling. "But, Donavan, I can't cook. That is, I can," she faltered, wiping at her eyes. "But only omelets and bacon."

  "No problem," he said as he started the car. "I like breakfast. Don't you, Jeff?"

  "Sure!"

  She gave up. In the scant minutes it took them to get to the ranch, she'd dried her tears and managed to gather her composure. She still didn't understand what had prompted Donavan to come after her, de­spite the way she'd insulted him, but she wasn't go­ing to question a kindly fate.

  Jeff was in a flaming rush to get to the living room for one of his favorite TV programs, leaving Dona­van to escort a worn Fay into the kitchen.

  "Mind Bee," he murmured, stepping around the kitten as she rushed toward them.

  "I'll take care of her, Uncle Don," Jeff inter­rupted. He scooped up the kitten, popped back into the living room and closed the door behind him. The blare of the television could be heard even through it.

  "The noise takes a little getting used to," Dona­van said slowly. He studied Fay, whose hair was straggly as it came loose from its neat chignon. "Why do you wear it like that, anyway?" he asked gently, moving far too close to her. His lean hands deftly separated hairpins from upswept strands, loos­ening the dark cloud of her hair around her shoulders. "That's better," he whispered. "Now you look like my Fay again."

  A tiny sob broke from her lips at the tenderness. Somehow she'd never associated it with him until now.

  "I said such terrible things to you," she whispered back, her eyes eloquent.

  "I said such terrible things back," he murmured, smiling. "We had a lovers' quarrel. Nothing to lose sleep over. Everything's all right now."

  "We aren't lovers," she protested.

  His eyes searched hers. "We're going to be, though."

  She flushed. "I'm not like that."

  He bent and drew his lips with aching tenderness over her own, gently parting them. His hands went to her hips and brought them firmly into the cradle of his, so that she could feel every vibrant muscle and tendon of him close, close against her softness.

  "Come on, baby," he breathed into her open mouth. "Don't make me fight for it...."

  She lost the will to protest the second she felt his tongue going past her lips, into the darkness beyond.

  A white-hot flash of sensation rippled her body in his arms, stiffened her. She caught her breath and then released it in a long, shuddering sigh that he could feel and taste.

  "Yes," he said huskily. "That's it. That's it!"

  He lifted her by the waist, turning her deftly to the wall. He pinned her there with his body, his long legs pushing between her thighs as he penetrated her mouth with quick, hard thrusts that simulated a kind of joining she'd never experienced.

  When he finally lifted his head, she couldn't see anything except his swollen mouth. Her body was throbbing, like the tiny breaths that pulsed out of her, like her heart in her throat.

  He leaned closer and bit her lower lip, not hard enough to hurt, but quite hard enough to make her aware of the violence of his passion.

  She couldn't move. He had her pelvis completely under his, her legs supported by his, her breasts pinned beneath the heavy pressure of his chest. Be­hind her, the wall was cold and hard, not warm and alive like the man who had her helpless.

  "I think you'd better marry me, Fay," he said hus­kily. "I don't know how much longer I can protect you."

  "Protect me from what?" she asked, dazed by passion.

  "Do you really need to ask?" he murmured against her bruised mouth.

  "Marriage is a big step," she said weakly.

  "Sure it is. But you and I are getting more explo­sive by the day. I want you like hell, honey, but not in the back seat of my car or some out-of-the-way motel when time permits. You're a virgin. That puts you right off limits."

  "I'm poor," she said. "No, don't look like that," she pleaded, touching his thick eyebrows where they clashed to smooth away the scowl. "I mean, I'd be a burden on you. I'll work, but I can't make much..."

  "How do you think other couples manage?" he asked. "For God's sake, I don't care if you're poor! So am I, in a lot of ways. You're much more desir­able to me without money than you were with it, and I think you know why."

  "Yes. I shouldn't have said what I did. I was so afraid that you wouldn't want me anymore."

  He lifted an eyebrow. "Does it feel like I don't want you?" he asked pleasantly.

  He hadn't moved, but what he felt was rather bla­tant and she blushed.

  He laughed softly as he let her slide down against him until her feet touched the floor. He loomed over her as he searched her flushed face with indulgent amusement.

  "You're priceless," he murmured. "Will you faint on our wedding night, or hide in the bathroom? I'll wager you've never seen a naked man, much less an aroused one."

  "I guess I'll get used to it," she replied gamely.

  He chuckled. "I guess you'll have to. Yes or no?"

  She took a deep breath. "Yes, then," she said, refusing to worry about his motives or even her own.

  She wanted him and he wanted her. She'd worry about the rest of the problems later.

  He didn't speak for so long that she was frankly worried that he was regretting the proposal. Then he lifted her hands to his mouth and kissed them with breathless tenderness, and the look in his silver eyes made her feel humble. Whatever he felt right now, it wasn't reluctance. Her heart lifted and flew.

  Jeff was called in minutes later and told the news. He literally jumped for joy. "When?" he asked them. Fay hesitated. Donavan didn't. "Next week," he said, his eyes daring Fay to challenge him.

  "Then," Jeff said, as if he was reluctant to put it into words, "can I stay for the wedding?"

  Donavan studied him in a silence that became more tense by the second. "As far as I'm concerned, you can stay until you're of legal age."

  "That goes for me, too," Fay said without prompting.

  Jeff looked embarrassed. He colored and averted his eyes. Like his uncle, very little showed in his face unless he wanted it to. But his uneasiness was a dead giveaway.

  "I'd like that," Jeff said. "But wouldn't I be in the way?"

  "No," Donavan said tersely. "We won't have time for a honeymoon right away, and you'll need to be registered in school here, even though it's almost the end of the school year."

  Jeffs eyes widened. "You mean I won't have to go back to military school?"

  "Not unless you want to," Donavan told him. "I've already started custody proceedings for you."

  "Gosh, Uncle Don," Jeff said enthusiastically. "I don't even know what to say!"

  "Say okay and go back and watch television with Bee," Donavan mused, glancing warmly at Fay. "I haven't finished kissing Fay yet."

  "Oh. That mushy stuff," Jeff said with a sly grin.

  "That mushy stuff," Donavan agreed, smiling at Fay's wild-rose blush. "You'll understand in a few years."

  "Don't bet on it," the boy murmured. He reached down to retrieve Bee, who was tangling his shoe­laces. "I'd like to stay here," he said without looking at them. "I'd like it a lot. But my stepdad won't ever agree."

  "Let me worry about that," Donavan told him. "We'll call you when supper's ready."

  "Okay. I won't hold my breath or anything, though," he added dryly, and closed the door behind him.

  Fay stared up at Donavan and felt as if every dream she'd ever had was about to come true. She had nothing. But if she.had Donavan, she had the world.

  She said so. He looked briefly uncomfortable. She didn't know that he was unsure of his own reasons for wanting to marry her. He wanted to keep Jeff. He felt a furious physical longing to make love to Fay. But beyond that, he was afraid to speculate. He'd done without love all his life. He wasn't sure he knew what it was.

  "I haven't embarrassed you?" she asked wor­riedly.

  He moved forward and dre
w her slowly into his arms. "No," he said. His eyes searched hers. "It's going to be hard for you getting used to my life-style. I like my own way. I budget like a madman. There's no provision for pretty dresses and expensive cos­metics and a trip to the hairdresser once a week..."

  Daringly, she put her fingers against his hard mouth. "I won't miss those things." She traced his lean cheek and his firm mouth and chin, loving the way he tolerated her exploration. "Oh, glory," she said on an unsteady breath. "I'll get to sleep with you every night."

  He stiffened at the way she said it, as if being in his arms would lift her right up to heaven. He brought her closer and bent to kiss her with slow, expert thoroughness.

  She reached up to hold him back, giving in with exquisite delight pulsing through her body, loving him as she'd never dreamed she could love someone.

  He lifted his head feverish seconds later and clasped her shoulders firmly while he looked down at her. "I hope I'm going to be man enough to satisfy you in bed," he said on a husky laugh. "You are one wild little creature, Fay."

  She flushed. "I hope that's a compliment."

  "It's a compliment, all right," he replied, fighting for enough breath to talk. She confounded him. For an innocent, which he was almost certain she was, there was no reticence in her when he started kissing her. She made his knees weak. In bed, she was going to be the end of his rainbow.

  She studied him with soft, worried green eyes. "I haven't ever slept with anyone," she began ner­vously.

  He smiled gently. "I know that. But you've got promise, honey. A lot of it." He leaned close and brushed his lips over her nose. "I'm glad it's going to be with me, Fay," he whispered huskily. "Your first time, I mean."

  Her heart ran wild. "So am I."

  His lips probed gently at her mouth, teasing it open. "Do you know what to expect?" he breathed.

  "I...think so."

  His eyes opened at point-blank range, silver fires that burned while she felt his coffee-scented breath on her lips. "I've never been gentle," he whispered. "But I will be. With you."

  "Donavan," she breathed, her eyes closing as she pulled him down to her.

  He didn't know if he was going to survive the soft heat of her body, the clinging temptation of her mouth. He groaned under his breath as the kiss went on and on, burning into his very soul.

  "I can't bear it," he groaned at her lips. "Fay...!"

  The tormented sound gave her the willpower to pull gently out of his arms and move away. Her j knees felt weak, but he looked as if he was having a hard time standing up straight.

  "It's like being thirsty, isn't it?" she asked breath­lessly. "You can't quite get enough to drink."

  "Yes." He turned away from her and lit a cigar with hands that were just faintly unsteady.

  She stared at his long back lovingly, at the body that would one day worship hers. He was going to be her man, her very own. Losing her fortune seemed such a tiny sacrifice to make to have Donavan for the rest of her life.

  She smiled to herself. "If you'll show me where the eggs are, I'll make you and Jeff an omelet," she offered. "I'm sorry I can't cook anything else just yet, but I'll learn."

  "I know that. Don't worry about it," he added with a fairly calm smile, "I can cook."

  "You can teach me," she mused.

  "To cook," he agreed. His eyes fell to the visible tautness of her breasts. "And other things."

  She smiled with barely contained excitement as she followed him to the refrigerator.

  Supper was a gleeful affair, with Jeff laughing and joking with his uncle and Fay as if he'd never had a solemn, sad day in his life. He rode back with them when Donavan eventually drove Fay home and sat in the car while they walked to the door of Fay's apartment house.

  "I can't believe the change in Jeff," he remarked as they paused on the darkened porch. "He's not the same boy who came out here with dead eyes and even deader dreams."

  "Does his stepfather care about him?"

  "Not so anyone would notice," he replied. "He was always jealous of the way my sister got along with Jeff, always resentful of him. He made Jeffs life hell from the very beginning. Since my sister died, it's been much worse."

  "Will he fight you over custody, do you think?"

  "Oh, I'm convinced of it," Donavan said lightly. "That's all right. I don't mind a good fight."

  "That's what I've heard," she murmured dryly.

  He chuckled. "I grew up swinging. Had to. My father made sure of that." His eyes darkened and the smile faded. "You'll have that to live down, too, if you marry me. Some people won't know that you've lost your inheritance. There will be talk."

  "I don't mind," she murmured. "While they're talking about me, they'll be leaving someone else alone."

  "You don't get depressed much, do you?" he asked quizzically.

  "I used to, before you came along." She toyed with a button of his shirt, loving the feel of him close to her, the warm strength of his hands on her shoul­ders. She looked up, her eyes shadowed in the dark­ness of the porch. "I'm much too happy now to be depressed."

  He frowned. "Fay...I've been alone a long time. Jeffs taking some getting used to. A wife...well, I may make things difficult for you at first."

  "Just as long as you don't have women running through the house in towels or anything," she said with an impish smile.

  He chuckled. "No chance of that. I've kept to my­self in recent years." He bent and brushed her mouth lightly with his, refusing to let the kiss ignite this time. "Good night, little one. Jeff and I will pick you up for lunch tomorrow."

  "Cheeseburgers, right?"

  "Right," he murmured. "I wish we were already married, Fay, and that we were completely alone. I'd carry you up those steps and take an hour stripping the clothes off you."

  "Hush!" she giggled. "I don't wear that many!"

  "You don't understand, do you?" he whispered. "You will."

  "That first time we went out, you wouldn't even kiss me," she recalled suddenly.

  "I didn't dare. I wanted it too much." He smoothed back her hair. "I figured you'd be addic­tive, Fay. I was right, wasn't I?"

  "I'm glad I am," she said fervently.

  "So am I. Good night, sweet."

  He turned and left her, and he didn't look back, not even when he'd started the car and drove away. Jeff waved, and she waved back. But Donavan hadn't even glanced in the rearview mirror.

  It made her nervous, realizing that he didn't seem to look back. Was it an omen? Was she doing the right thing to marry a man whose only feeling for her was desire?

  She worried it all night, but by morning, the only thing she was certain of was that she couldn't live without Donavan. She went into the office resolute, determined to make the best of the situation.

  "Is it true?" Abby asked the minute she came in the door later that morning, looking and sounding breathless.

  Fay didn't have to ask any questions. She laughed. 'If you mean, am I going to marry J. D. Langley, yes."

  "Fay, you're crazy," Abby said gently. She sat down beside the younger woman. "Listen, he wants custody of Jeff, that's all. I'll absolve him of wanting your money, but if you think he's marrying you for love..."

  Fay shook her head. "No, I'm not that crazy," she assured her friend. "But I care too much to refuse," she added quietly. "He may learn to love me one day. I have to hope that he will."

  "It's not fair," Abby argued worriedly.

  "It's fair to Jeff," Fay reminded her. "He stands to lose so much if he has to go back to live with his stepfather. He's a great boy, Abby. A boy with prom­ise."

  "Yes, I know. I've met him." She sat down on the edge of Fay's desk with a long sigh. "I hope you know what you're doing. I can't see J.D. passionately in love. Calhoun said he was actually cussing you when he left here yesterday."

  "He was," she replied dryly. "And I was giving as good as I got. But we made up later."

  Abby raised an eyebrow at the blush. "So I see."

  "I can't
say no, regardless of his reasons for want­ing to marry me," Fay said urgently. "Abby, I love him."

  The older woman didn't have an argument left She looked at Fay and saw herself several years be­fore, desperately in love with Calhoun and living on dreams. She knew that she'd have done anything Calhoun had asked, right down to living with him.

  She smiled indulgently. "I know how that feels," she said finally. "But I hope you're doing the right thing."

  "Oh, so do I!" Fay said with heartfelt emotion.

  When Donavan came to pick her up for lunch, the office was empty. Calhoun and Abby had their mid­day meal together most of the time, and the office girls took an early lunch so that they could be back during the regular lunch hour.

  "Where's Jeff?" she asked, surprised that the boy wasn't with him.

  "Gone to the movies," Donavan told her, smiling. "He thinks engaged people need some time alone. That being the case," he murmured, tugging her up by one hand, "suppose we buy the ingredients for a picnic lunch and find a secluded spot down by the river where we can make love to each other after we eat?"

  She blushed, smiling at him with her whole heart. "Okay."

  He chuckled as he pulled her along with him, standing aside to let the first of the office crew back in the building before he escorted her out to his car.

  "We're raising eyebrows," he murmured. "Do they know we're engaged?"

  "Everybody seems to," she replied.

  "Small town gossip. Well, it doesn't matter, does it?"

  She shook her head. "Not at all."

  They stopped by a grocery store in a nearby shopping center and bought lunch at the take-out deli, adding soft drinks and ice for a small cooler. It wasn't a fancy or expensive lunch, but Fay felt as if it were sheer elegance.

  "You look like one of those posed pictures of a debutante at a garden party," he remarked, his eyes on the way her gauzy white-and-green patterned dress outlined her body as she lay across from him on a spot of grass.

  "I feel that way, too," she mused, tossing her long hair as she arched her back and sighed. Her eyes closed. "It's so peaceful here."

  "If that's a complaint..."

  The sound of movement brought her eyes open just in time to find Donavan levering his jean-clad body over hers. He was smiling, but there was a kind of heat in the smile that made her body begin to throb.