Books By Diana Palmer

by Palmer, Diana

"Did he call you?"

  "No, he didn't," she said flatly. "Not that it matters."

  Of course it mattered. She couldn't hide her disappointment. He started the big black truck. "We're going to have a great time," he told her. "They're doing The Firebird tonight. I got good seats, even at the late date, too."

  "The Firebird?"

  "Stavinsky," he said, "one of the modern composers. This is a ballet set to the music. Want me to fill you in on the way to Houston?"

  "Would you?" she asked, genuinely curious.

  He chuckled. "I'd love to."

  The topic took them all the way to the theater where the event was held, and into the parking lot.

  There were people dressed in everything from evening gowns to jeans and tank tops, so Crissy felt comfortable in her dress. She and Grier had seats right down front, and the beauty of the production held her breathless, like the sensuous score provided by the orchestra.

  She caught Grier watching her once and grinned at him. He grinned back, pleased that she was enjoying the ballet.

  She watched the ballerinas in their exquisite costumes flying

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  across the stage to the music, into high lifts and pirouettes on their toes, in the changing colored lights. It was awesome. She'd never seen anything quite so glorious. It was, as she told Crier later, like watching a Degas painting come to life.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The lights were all on in the ranch house when they drove up, and Maude came out on the porch to meet them.

  "It's your night off!" Crissy exclaimed.

  Maude looked worried. "Yes, it was, but you weren't here and the phone wasn't working. When Judd couldn't get in touch with you, he called me and asked if I'd run over and check on you. I only just got here..."

  She wondered vaguely why the phone wasn't working. "Cash took me to the ballet in Houston to celebrate my twenty-first birthday," Crissy explained, clinging to his arm with a grin. "We had champagne and supper at a four-star restaurant. I had beef Wellington, Maude!"

  Maude chuckled. "Well, well. That was nice of you, Mr. Grier."

  "Nice is my middle name. Ask Crissy," he added, teasing.

  Maude smiled. "I'll just check the phone again before I go back to my sister's. Crissy, you can leave the porch light on for me when you come in," she added with a wicked grin. "No rush!"

  Crissy's heart lifted. At least Judd was worried for her, even if he hadn't been worried enough to come himself. How could he disappoint Tippy, after all, she thought irritably, and leave the gorgeous model standing so that he could rush down to Jacobs-ville to see about his soon-to-be-ex-wife?

  "Don't brood," Grier chided, tapping her on the cheek with his forefinger. "You know he cares about you. If he hadn't, he wouldn't even have bothered to call."

  "It's habit. He'll get over it very soon, when we're annulled." She sighed and looked up at him with a speculative smile. "I'll be a free woman in no time. Going to kiss me good-night?"

  He pursed his firm lips. "I've been thinking about that. I'm not sure it would be a good idea. I mean, what if I turn out to be addictive?"

  Her eyes shone like rain-wet chestnuts in her radiant face. "I love taking chances. Come on. Be daring."

  He knew almost certainly that Judd had kissed her. But un­less it was the alcohol talking, she seemed to think of kissing as a game. He looked at her mouth and weighed the advantages and disadvantages. But the fact that she was still married to Judd made him hesitate.

  He drew her to him, gently, and bent and touched his hard mouth to hers without passion. His heart raced. She tasted like heady wine. But he could feel her lack of response. For her, sparks didn't fly. There was no music. He felt vaguely disap­pointed as he lifted his head and saw the reality of her response in her smile. She wasn't even shaken.

  "Thanks for making my birthday special, Cash," she said softly.

  He recovered quickly. "What are friends for?" he teased. "Sleep well. If you need me, you know how to call me, right?"

  "Right."

  He searched her eyes and smiled. "I had a good time. I'm glad you did. Good night."

  "Good night." She stood on the porch and watched him drive away before she went inside and locked the door and turned out the porch light.

  Maude came into the dining room, somber and quiet. "Judd should have taken you out, on such a special occasion. Your twenty-first birthday!"

  "Judd didn't even phone to wish me a happy birthday, Maude," Crissy told her bluntly.

  "He didn't remember that it was your birthday. I didn't have the heart to remind him when he called me. He was very upset when he couldn't reach you on your cell phone. I called and told him you were okay a few minutes ago." She smiled. "He wasn't pleased to hear you'd been out with Grier again," she added with a satisfied look.

  "Like I care. At least I had somebody to celebrate my birth­day with!" she replied, her eyes clouded with anger. "Like my dress?" she indicated it, twirling around. "I bought it to wear to go out with Judd tonight."

  "My poor baby." Maude stared at her with compassion.

  Crissy's chin lifted proudly. "I'm no baby. Not now. I'm a grown woman, and I'm going to start acting like it. No more mooning over a man who'll never want me. Especially when there's one who does!"

  Maude didn't comment. She only smiled, sadly.

  The next morning, Christabel was feeding a foal in the barn when she heard a vehicle pull up outside in the dirt road. She glanced toward the entrance when a door slammed, just in time to see Judd coming toward her.

  Her heart jumped into her chest and started racing. He was so good to look at. She couldn't remember a time in years when that long-legged, easy stride of his hadn't triggered excitement. He was wearing his Ranger uniform, including the star and the .45 automatic in its hand-tooled holster. Atop his dark hair, the creamy Stetson was tilted at a rakish angle across his black eyes. All that was immediately visible of his lean face was his straight nose and thin mouth and square jaw.

  She was immediately aware that she was wearing ripped jeans, mucky boots and a faded green checked blouse with a but­ton missing. Her hair was part in and part out of her neat braid and she didn't even have lipstick on. Trust Judd to show up the minute she looked her frumpiest, even if she shouldn't care. The hurt was still fresh that he'd forgotten her birthday and instead had gone on a date with another woman.

  Her face closed up when he was near enough to see it. She turned her attention back to the foal.

  "Out chasing crooks, Mr. Texas Ranger?" she asked.

  He shoved his hat back on his head, his black eyes glittering down at her.

  "What's this about you going to Houston with Grier?"

  She lifted both eyebrows and stared at him as if he'd gone crazy. "I've been going places with Cash for weeks, didn't you notice?"

  "Just around town, not on elegant dates to Houston," he said flatly. He hesitated, uncertain of his ground. "Maude told me about the ballet," he said flatly. His thin lips made a flat line across his tanned face. "Then Grier mentioned it to me when I stopped by his office this morning."

  "I like him," she said, dark eyes flashing.

  It was a declaration of war, and he took it like one. "Grier's thirty-eight," he pointed out. "He has a mysterious past. He's too worldly for a sprout like you."

  "I said, I like him," she repeated calmly. She finished giving the bottle to the foal, patted him, and went out into the aisle, clos­ing the gate behind her.

  "You heard me."

  She didn't look up at him. It would have been fatal, and she had to keep her resolve. "You've spent five years taking care of me. I appreciate all you've done for me. I know it was a sacri­fice, in a lot of ways," she continued, as she cleaned the bottle at the rusty sink and put it on the shelf. "But I'm almost through school and even you have to admit that I know what I'm doing around here. I can keep books as well as you can. I can buy and sell stock. I can hire men." She turned and forced her eyes up. It was an effo
rt. "It's time I took on full responsibility for my half of the outfit. I have to start standing on my own two feet, and you have to let me."

  "When you're twenty-one," he began doggedly.

  She took off the signet ring he'd put on her finger five years before, caught his big, lean hand in hers, and tucked the ring into his palm, closing his fingers around it. "I won't need this any­more. I turned twenty-one yesterday," she said with as much dignity as she could muster.

  His expression was priceless. "What?"

  "I was twenty-one yesterday," she repeated, her eyes flashing fire at him. "While you were showing off Miss Supermodel at your party in Victoria, I was being wined and dined by the man who's too worldly for me! He bought me a beautiful supper, with champagne to toast my coming of age, and took me to see The Firebird in Houston!"

  His face was like stone. He winced. "Christabel..." he said softly. "I'm sorry!"

  She shrugged and averted her eyes, pretending that her heart wasn't breaking. "Don't sweat it. I had a wonderful birthday. But you can go ahead and get the annulment anytime you please. Just don't expect me to sit home and wait for it." Her eyes flashed up to his. "If you can date while we're still married, then there's no reason at all that I can't!"

  She started out the door of the barn, blond hair straggly, back arrow-straight.

  Judd watched her with regret eating him alive. How could he have forgotten such an important date in their lives? He looked down at the signet ring that she'd worn so faithfully for the past five years, and he felt guilty. He'd always taken her someplace on her birthday, given her little presents.

  He remembered that ring that Tippy had talked him into buy­ing her, and he felt sick. At least Christabel didn't know about that, he consoled himself.

  He slid the signet ring back onto his little finger and stared at it blankly. She'd said that he could go ahead and get the annul­ment anytime he liked. Was it because her relationship with Cash Grier was heating up? His eyes narrowed angrily. Well, she could wait for that annulment until he was ready. And he wasn't. Not yet.

  The guys in Victoria knew he was acquainted with Tippy Moore and they'd asked him as a special favor to bring her to the retirement party. He'd done it, without thinking. Tippy liked him and hung on him all the time. He was flattered that a woman that beautiful, and that famous, found him attractive. But there was a curious thing about her. She touched him, from time to time, but she didn't like being touched. She was ice cold to men who flirted with her, men who showed their enthusiasm for her face and figure. She adored lawmen and always made time to speak to them, whatever the reason. Judd had noticed that she was actually uncomfortable around other men, and she kept close to him when they were together for any length of time— like on location in town, and especially when that assistant di­rector, Gary Mays, came close to her.

  She was a puzzle. He found her pleasant company, and she stroked his ego. But he hadn't considered how it would look to Christabel, who was legally his wife, whether or not anyone knew. By taking Tippy around with him, he was encouraging Christabel to do the same thing with Grier.

  He'd opened a door that he could no longer close, and it made him uneasy. He hated the thought of Christabel with Cash Grier, whose past was, at best, ten degrees off normal. The man was dangerous, lawman or not, and just by being with him, Christa­bel was taking chances. He had enemies.

  On the other hand, she was in danger herself. Grier had read him the riot act this very morning about leaving Christabel alone at the ranch after her confrontation with Jack Clark, and the threats he'd made. He'd been negligent, on all counts, even by buying Tippy that expensive ring that he couldn't really afford.

  She was used to rich men giving her anything she admired. He wasn't one.

  He looked at the signet ring with sad eyes. He'd hurt Christa-bel, who'd spent the whole of their married life looking out for him and taking care of ranch business when he couldn't. He'd repaid that loyalty by making her feel insecure and valueless. Now she wanted an annulment, when he was just beginning to feel...

  He clamped down hard on the thought. There was no future for him with her. He had to think ahead, to an annulment. Im­mediately after came the thought that Cash Grier was trying to settle down and that he was very interested in Christabel. If he was thinking in terms of marriage, he could think again. That annulment could wait. It could wait a long time.

  Tippy Moore came back to work the next Monday, and her first words to Crissy were about the great time she had with Judd in Victoria at the party.

  "I'm-so glad," Crissy returned easily, and with a big smile, "because I went to the ballet in Houston with Cash, and we had dinner and champagne in a five-star restaurant. It was a night to remember."

  Tippy's triumph fell flat. That was her sort of routine evening. She hadn't known that Cash Grier was so cultured, or that he had the kind of money that could afford such an expensive outing. Apparently the little country girl there didn't realize how ex­pensive it was, either. Judd's idea of gourmet cuisine was a fast-food hamburger and fries. She was very fond of him, of course, and his job made him a rarity, a collectible, in her world. But she'd learned quickly that he wasn't wealthy. Well, it wasn't his money or lack of it that impressed her, she told herself, it was his profession. She felt safe with him. She was safe with him, safe from other men—men like Cash Grier, who was a real threat.

  "I didn't realize a hick policeman would know what a ballet was," Tippy muttered.

  "Cash has an interesting background," Crissy said. "He was a Texas Ranger, too, and he worked for the government."

  Tippy looked uncomfortable. "Does he know which fork to use?" she asked sarcastically.

  "He taught me," Crissy said. “A lot. It was a nice celebration, for my twenty-first birthday," she added deliberately, and coldly. Crissy felt better, even if Judd's rejection did still hurt.

  Tippy averted her eyes. She hadn't known that. She felt guilty, God knew why. Certainly the other woman had a crush on Judd and would have wanted to be with him on her most special birthday. But it was no concern of hers! She turned slowly and went back to work.

  The annual Cattleman's Ball was held the Saturday before Thanksgiving, and Cash had already invited Christabel to go with him. She was delighted not to have to stay home that night, too, while Judd showed off his fancy model at the ball. She knew Judd wouldn't take her. They were hardly speaking at all now, to Maude's dismay.

  Grier, with his hair down below his collar, dark and faintly waving, freshly shaven and wearing a suit, was striking. Christa­bel was proud to be seen with him. At least, she thought miser­ably, she still had her pretty blue dress to wear, and nobody in Jacobsville had seen it. She didn't feel as dowdy and out of fash­ion as she had only the year before.

  Judd didn't even look her way. He came in late with the redhead, just in time to watch Christabel and Grier on the dance floor. Good thing most people didn't know she and Judd were still married, Christabel thought, because he would have raised eyebrows every­where with Tippy Moore on his arm, even if they hadn't been. She kept her eyes on Grier and smiled as if she hadn't a care in the world.

  He cocked an eyebrow after the band wound down the slow melody they'd been playing and, after Matt Caldwell had a whispered conference with the bandleader, the band broke into a Latin medley.

  "Are you game?" Grier asked her.

  Her eyes widened. "You bet!" she laughed, remembering the fun they'd had doing it at Shea's.

  He chuckled as he drew her onto the dance floor, where Matt and his wife were the only occupants so far.

  "Okay" he murmured, marking the rhythm. "Let's show 'em how!"

  He turned her into the rhythm and the rest was magic. Even Matt Caldwell raised his eyebrows as the couple flew across the floor to the throbbing drums and quick melody.

  Christabel was laughing with pure joy. She'd never had a part­ner who could do these dances until Cash came along. She'd wished and wished that Judd would take her to a dance,
any dance, just once, and let her show off. Well, she was, now. Even if it wasn't with him, she was having the time of her life. Her break­ing heart succumbed to the delicious rhythm of Latin musical fire.

  By the time they wound down, she could hardly breathe. She sagged against Grier, who wasn't even breathing hard, and laughed delightedly to the cheers and applause of the other guests—including the Caldwells.

  "Remind me to take you up to Houston to a Latin dance club I know," Grier told her as he escorted her off the floor. "We'll shame them out the door!"

  She grinned up at him. "You're great!" she exclaimed.

  "Takes a good partner," he replied with a shrug, but his eyes twinkled.

  Judd Dunn was glaring at the two of them for all he was worth. Beside him, Tippy was glaring, too.

  "She likes to show off, doesn't she?" she said cattily. "I guess he does, too."

  He wouldn't have mentioned for the world that he'd never seen Grier dance before. He'd never seen him smile much, ei­ther. It annoyed him that he was doing both with Christabel.

  "Silly to make such a spectacle of herself in front of the whole town," Tippy continued.

  Judd looked down at her darkly. "Can you do Latin dances?"

  She averted her eyes. "What has that got to do with any­thing?"

  He noticed that Christabel was standing very close to Grier at the punch bowl, and then he got a look at the older man's face as he looked down at her bent head. It caused something to ex­plode inside him. Grier was a good law enforcement officer, he was steady and calm in the face of danger, and he was afraid of nothing on earth. But he was also a man, and Christabel was still an innocent. Judd felt protective of her. Possessive of her. He didn't want Grier hitting on her.

  "Excuse me," he told Tippy, and walked over to join Grier and Christabel.

  "Aren't you dancing?" Grier asked him dryly, and he was sud­denly holding Christabel's hand tightly in his big one.

  Judd's black eyes narrowed. He didn't smile. "I thought you had to be in Dallas Monday morning, early."

  "I do. I'm flying out tomorrow afternoon." Grier smiled lazily. "Do you have a problem with that?" he added very softly, and with a visible threat in his eyes.