Books By Diana Palmer

by Palmer, Diana

  He threw himself onto the bed beside her, on his belly. He couldn't stop shaking. He gasped at a jerky breath and clutched the sheet beside his head as he fought for control.

  "Mr. Hart!" the voice came again.

  He suddenly remembered that he hadn't locked the bed­room door, and the cowboy didn't know that he wasn't alone. Even as he thought it, he heard the doorknob turn. "Open that door...and you're fired!" he shouted hoarsely. Beside him, Janie actually gasped as she belatedly realized what was about to happen.

  The doorknob was released at once. "Sorry, sir, but I need you to come out here and look at this bull. I think there's something wrong with him, Mr. Hart! We got him loaded into one of the trailers and put him in the barn, but..."

  "Call the vet!" he shouted. "I'll be there directly!"

  "Yes, sir!"

  Footsteps went back down the carpeted hall. Leo lifted his head. Beside him, Janie looked as shattered as he felt. Tears were swimming in her eyes.

  He groaned softly, and pulled her to him, gently. "It's all right," he whispered, kissing her eyelids shut "Don't cry, baby. Nothing happened."

  "Nothing!" she choked.

  His hands smoothed down the long line of her back. "Almost nothing," he murmured dryly.

  She was horrified, not only at her own behavior, but at what had almost happened. "If he hadn't called to you," she began in a high-pitched whisper.

  His hands tangled in her long hair and he brought her mouth under his, tenderly. He nibbled her upper lip. "Yes, I know," he replied gently. "But he did." He pulled away from her and got to his feet, stretching hugely, facing her. He watched her try not to look at him with amused indul­gence. But eventually, she couldn't resist it. Her eyes were huge, shocked...delighted.

  "Now, when we compare notes, you'll have ammuni­tion," he teased.

  She flushed and averted her eyes, belatedly noticing that she wasn't wearing clothes, either. She tugged the sheet up over her breasts, but it was difficult to feel regrets when she looked at him.

  He was smiling. His eyes were soft, tender. He looked down at what he could see of her body above the sheet with pride, loving the faint love marks on her breasts that his mouth had made.

  "Greenhorn," he chided at her scarlet blush. "Well, you know a lot more about men now than you did this morning, don't you?"

  She swallowed hard. Her eyes slid down him. She didn't look away, but she was very flushed, and not only because of what she was seeing. Her body throbbed in the most delicious way.

  "I think I'd better take you home. Now," he added with a rueful chuckle. "From this point on, it only gets worse."

  He was still passionately aroused. He wondered if she realized what it meant. He chuckled at her lack of compre­hension. "I could have you three times and I'd still be like this," he said huskily. "I'm not easily satisfied."

  She shivered as she looked at him, her body yielded, submissive.

  "You want to, don't you?" he asked quietly, reading her expression. "So do I. More than you know. But we're not going that far together tonight. You've had enough trauma for a Friday night."

  He caught her hand and pulled her up, free of the sheet and open to his eyes as he lead her back into the bathroom. He turned on the shower and climbed in with her, bathing both of them quickly and efficiently, to her raging embar­rassment.

  He dried her and then himself before he put his shorts back on and left her to get her things. He'd washed them while she was in the shower the first time and put them in the dryer. They were clean and sweet-smelling, and the bloodstains were gone.

  But when she went to take them from him, he shook his head. "One of the perks," he said softly. "I get to dress you."

  And he did, completely. Then he led her to the dresser, and ran his own brush through her long, soft hair, easing it back from her face. The look in his eyes was new, fas­cinating, incomprehensible. She looked back at him with awe.

  "Now you know something about what sex feels like, even though you're still very much a virgin," he said mat-ter-of-factly. "And you won't be afraid of the real thing anymore, when it happens, will you?"

  She shook her head, dazed.

  He put the brush down and framed her face in his big, lean hands. He wasn't smiling. "You belong to me now," he said huskily. "I belong to you. Don't agonize over what you let me do to you tonight. It's as natural as breathing.

  Don't lie awake feeling shame or embarrassment. You saw me as helpless as I saw you. There won't be any jokes about it, any gossiping about it. I'll never tell another living soul what you let me do."

  She relaxed. She hadn't really known what to expect. But he sounded more solemn than he'd ever been. He was looking at her with a strange expression.

  "Are you sorry?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

  "No," he replied quietly. "It was unavoidable. I was afraid for you tonight. I couldn't stop Clark. Neither could Harley. Until Grier walked in, I thought you'd had it. What happened in here was a symptom of the fear, that's all. I wanted to hold you, make you part of me." He drew in a shaky breath and actually shivered. "I wanted to go right inside you, Janie," he whispered bluntly. "But we'll save that pleasure for the right time and place. This isn't it."

  She colored and averted her eyes.

  He turned her face back to his. "Meanwhile," he said slowly, searching her eyes, "we'll have no more secrets, of any kind, between us."

  She stood quietly against him, watching his face. "No­body's seen me without my clothes since I was a little kid," she whispered, as if it was a fearful secret.

  "Not that many women have seen me without mine," he replied unexpectedly. He smiled tenderly.

  Her eyebrows arched.

  "Shocked?" he mused, moving away to pull clothes out of his closet and socks out of his drawers. He sat down to pull on the socks, glancing at her wryly. "I'm not a play­boy. I'm not without experience, but there was always a limit I wouldn't cross with women I only knew slightly. It gives people power over you when they know intimate things about you."

  "Yes," she said, moving to sit beside him on the bed, with her hands folded in her lap. "Thanks."

  "For what?"

  She smiled. “For making it feel all right. That I... let you touch me that way, I mean."

  He finished pulling on his socks and tilted her face up to his. He kissed her softly. "I won't ever touch another woman like that," he whispered into her mouth. "It would be like committing adultery, after what we did on this bed."

  Her heart flew up into the clouds. Her wide, fascinated eyes searched his. "Really?"

  He chuckled. "Are you anxious to rush out and experi­ment with another man?"

  She shook her head.

  "Why?"

  She smiled shyly. "It would be like committing adul­tery," she repeated what he'd said.

  He stood up and looked down at her with possession. "It was a near thing," he murmured. "I don't know whether to punch that cowboy or give him a raise for in­terrupting us. I lost it, in those last few seconds. I couldn't have stopped."

  "Neither could I." She lifted her mouth for his soft kiss. She searched his eyes, remembering what he'd told her. "But the books say a man can only do it once," she blurted out, "and then he has to rest."

  He laughed softly. "I know. But a handful of men can go all night. I'm one of them."

  "Oh!"

  He pulled up his slacks and fastened them before he shouldered into a knit shirt. He turned back to her, smooth­ing his disheveled hair. "I was contemplating even much more explosive pleasures when someone started shouting my name."

  This was interesting. "More explosive pleasures?" she prompted.

  He drew her up against him and held her close. "What we did and what we didn't do, is the difference between licking an ice-cream cone and eating a banana split," he teased. "What you had was only a small taste of what we can have together."

  "Wow," she said softly.

  "Wow," he echoed, bending to kiss her hungrily. He sighed i
nto her mouth. "I was almost willing to risk getting you pregnant, I was so far gone." He lifted his head and looked at her. "How do you feel about kids, Janie?"

  "I love children," she said honestly. "How about you?"

  "Me too. I'm beginning to rethink my position on having them." His lean hand touched her belly. "You've got nice wide hips," he commented, testing them.

  She felt odd. Her body seemed to contract. She searched his eyes because she didn't understand what was happening to her.

  "You can tell Shea's you're through," he said abruptly. "I'm not risking you again. If we can't keep Clark in jail for the foreseeable future, we have to make plans to keep you safe."

  Her lips parted. She'd all but forgotten her horrible ex­perience. She touched her throat and felt again the prick of the knife. "You said he was vindictive."

  "He'll have to get through me," he said. "And with a gun, I'm every bit his equal," he added.

  She reached up and touched his hard mouth. "I don't want you to get hurt."

  "I don't want you to get hurt," he seconded. His face twisted. "Baby, you are the very breath in my body," he whispered, and reached for her.

  She felt boneless as he kissed her with such passion and fire that she trembled.

  "I wish I didn't have to take you home," he groaned at her lips. "I want to make love to you completely. I want to lie against you and over you, and inside you!"

  She moaned at his mouth as it became deep and insistent, devouring her parted lips.

  He was shivering. He had to drag his mouth away from hers. He looked shattered. He touched her long hair with a hand that had a faint tremor. "Amazing," he whispered gruffly. "That I couldn't see it, before it happened."

  "See what?" she asked drowsily.

  His eyes fell to her swollen, parted lips. "Never mind," he whispered. He bent and kissed her with breathless ten­derness. "I'm taking you home. Then I'll see about my bull. Tomorrow morning, I'll come and get you and we'll see about swearing out more warrants against Clark."

  "You don't think Clark will get out on bond?" she asked worriedly.

  "Not if Grier can prevent it." He reached for his truck keys and took her by the arm. "We'll go out the back," he said. "I don't want anyone to know you were here with me tonight. It wouldn't look good, even under the circum­stances."

  "Don't worry, nobody will know," she assured him.

  The next morning, Fred Brewster came into the dining room looking like a thunderstorm.

  "What were you doing in Leo Hart's bedroom last night when you were supposed to be working, Janie?" he asked bluntly.

  She gaped at him with her mouth open. He was furious.

  "How in the world...?" she exclaimed.

  "One of the Harts' cowboys went to get him about a sick bull. He saw Leo sneaking you out the back door!" He scowled and leaned closer. "And what the hell hap­pened to your face? Leo said you had a troublesome cus­tomer and he was bringing you home! What the hell's go­ing on, Janie?"

  She was scrambling for an answer that wouldn't get her in even more trouble when they heard a pickup truck roar up the driveway and stop at the back door. A minute later there was a hard rap, and the door opened by itself.

  Leo came in, wearing dressy boots and slacks, a white shirt with a tie, and a sports coat. His white Stetson had been cleaned and looked as if it had never been introduced to a muddy truck mat. He took off the hat and tossed it onto the counter, moving past Fred to look at Janie's face.

  "Damn!" he muttered, turning her cheek so that the vi­olet bruise was very noticeable. "I didn't realize he hit you that hard, baby!"

  "Hit her?!" Fred burst out. "Who hit her, and what was she doing in your bedroom last night?!"

  Leo turned toward him, his face contemplative, his dark eyes quiet and somber. "Did she tell you?" he asked.

  "I never!" Janie burst out, flushing.

  "One of your cowboys mentioned it to one of my cow­boys," Fred began.

  Leo's eyes flashed fire. "He'll be drawing his pay at the end of the day. Nobody, but nobody, tells tales about Janie!"

  Father and daughter exchanged puzzled glances.

  "Why are you so shocked?" he asked her, when he saw her face. "Do you think I take women to my house, ever?"

  She hadn't considered that. Her lips parted on a shocked breath.

  He glanced at Fred, who was still unconvinced. "All right, you might as well know it all. Jack Clark made a pass at her in Shea's and when she protested, he pulled a knife on her." He waited for that to sink in, and for Fred to sit down, hard, before he continued. "Harley and I got there about the same time and heard yelling. We went in­side to find Janie with a knife at her throat. We rushed Clark, but he put both of us over a table. Janie's co-worker had phoned the sheriff, but none of the deputies were within quick reach, so they radioed Grier and he took Clark down and put him in jail." He grimaced, looking at Janie's face, "She was covered with blood and so upset that she could hardly stand. I couldn't bring myself to take her home in that condition, so I took her home with me and cleaned her up and calmed her down first."

  Fred caught Janie's hand in his and held it hard. "Oh, daughter, I'm sorry!"

  "It's okay. We were trying to spare you, that's all," she faltered.

  Leo pulled a cell phone from his pocket, dialed a num­ber, and got his foreman. "You tell Carl Turley that he's fired. You get him the hell out of there before I get home, or he'll need first aid to get off the ranch. Yes. Yes." His face was frightening. "It was true. Clark's in jail now, on assault charges. Of course nothing was going on, and you can repeat that, with my blessing! Just get Turley out of there! Right."

  He hung up and put the phone away. He was vibrating with suppressed fury, that one of his own men would gossip about him and Janie, under the circumstances. "So much for gossip," he gritted.

  "Thanks, Leo," Fred said tersely. "And I'm sorry I jumped to the wrong conclusion. It's just that, normally, a man wouldn't take a woman home with him late at night unless he was...well..."

  "...planning to seduce her?" Leo said for him. He looked at Janie and his eyes darkened.

  She flushed.

  "Yes," Fred admitted uncomfortably.

  Leo's dark eyes began to twinkle as they wandered over Janie like loving hands. "Would this be a bad time to tell you that I have every intention of seducing her at some future time?"

  Chapter Ten

  Fred looked as if he'd swallowed a chicken, whole. He flushed, trying to forget that Leo had loaned him the money to save his ranch, thinking only of his daughter's welfare. "Now, look here, Leo..." he began.

  Leo chuckled. "I was teasing. She's perfectly safe with me, Fred," he replied. He caught Janie's hand and tugged her to her feet. "We have to go see the magistrate about warrants," he said, sobering. "I want him to see these bruises on her face," he added coldly. "I don't think we'll have any problem with assault charges."

  Janie moved closer to Leo. He made her feel safe, pro­tected. He bent toward her, his whole expression one of utter tenderness. Belatedly, Fred began to understand what he was seeing. Leo's face, to him, was an open book. He was shocked. At the same time, he realized that Janie didn't understand what was going on. Probably she thought he was being brotherly.

  "Don't you want breakfast first?" Fred offered, trying to get his bearings again.

  For the first time, Leo seemed to notice the table. His hand, holding Janie's, contracted involuntarily. Bacon, scrambled eggs, and...biscuits? Biscuits! He scowled, let­ting go of Janie's fingers to approach the bread basket. He reached down, expecting a concretelike substance, remem­bering that he and Rey had secretly sailed some of Janie's earlier efforts at biscuit-making over the target range for each other and used them for skeet targets. But these weren't hard. They were flaky, delicate. He opened one. It was soft inside. It smelled delicious.

  He was barely aware of sitting down, dragging Janie's plate under his hands. He buttered a biscuit and put straw­berry jam on it. He bit into it
and sighed with pure ecstasy.

  "I forgot about the biscuits," Janie told her father wor­riedly.

  Fred glanced at their guest and grimaced. "Maybe we should have saved it for a surprise."

  Leo was sighing, his eyes closed as he chewed.

  "We'll never get to the magistrate's now," Janie thought aloud.

  "He'll run out of biscuits in about ten minutes, at that rate," Fred said with a grin.

  "I'll get another plate. We can split the eggs and ba­con," Janie told her father, inwardly beaming with pride at Leo's obvious enjoyment of her efforts. Now, finally, the difficulty of learning to cook seemed worth every minute.

  Leo went right on chewing, oblivious to movement around him.

  The last biscuit was gone with a wistful sigh when he became aware of his two companions again.

  "Who made the biscuits?" Leo asked Janie.

  She grimaced. "I did."

  "But you can't cook, honey," he said gently, trying to soften the accusation.

  "Marilee said you didn't like me because I couldn't make biscuits or cook anything edible," she confessed without looking at him. "So I learned how."

  He caught her fingers tightly in his. "She lied. But those were wonderful biscuits," he said. "Flaky and soft inside, delicately browned. Absolutely delicious."

  She smiled shyly. "I can make them anytime you like."

  He was looking at her with pure possession. "Every morning," he coaxed. "I'll stop by for coffee. If Fred doesn't mind," he added belatedly.

  Fred chuckled. "Fred doesn't mind," he murmured dryly.

  Leo scowled. "You look like a cat with a mouse."

  Fred shrugged. "Just a stray thought. Nothing to worry about."

  Leo held the older man's reluctant gaze and understood the odd statement. He nodded slowly. He smiled sheepishly as he realized that Fred wasn't blind at all.

  Fred got up. "Well, I've got cattle to move. How's your bull, by the way?" he added abruptly, worried.

  "Colic," Leo said with a cool smile. "Easily treated and nothing to get upset over."

  "I'm glad. I had visions of you losing yours to Clark as well."

  "He isn't from the same herd as yours was, Fred," Leo told him. "But even so, I think we'll manage to keep Clark penned up for a while. Which reminds me," he added, glancing at Janie. "We'd better get going."