Books By Diana Palmer

by Palmer, Diana

  It was a challenge. Judd's eyes narrowed. "Maybe I do," he said in the low, quiet tone that made ranch hands go very still.

  Christabel didn't understand what was going on, but she knew it was explosive. She let go of Grier's hand and caught Judd by the sleeve.

  "I want to talk to you for a minute," she said firmly, and started toward the side door that led out onto the patio just as a waltz filled the big room and Harley Fowler led Janie Brewster onto the dance floor.

  Judd was surprised enough by the unfamiliar assertiveness to go along, oblivious to Tippy's black glare as they went outside.

  In the faint light from the long windows, Christabel turned to Judd. "What's the matter with you?" she asked curtly. "We're get­ting an annulment, Judd. I have every right to go out with Cash. I haven't said a word about you and Tippy Moore, have I?"

  No, she hadn't. It had irritated him. For years, she'd been pos­sessive about him, teasing, vamping him, hinting about red neg­ligees. Now she was worlds away, and with Grier, of all the damned men in the world...!

  "Grier eats kids like you for breakfast," he said shortly. "He's lived in the shadows most of his adult life, working for secret government agencies...''

  "How exciting!" she enthused.

  "Listen to me!" he bit off. "He's killed men..."

  Her eyebrows arched. "And your point is?"

  His lips made a thin line and he exhaled shortly. "He's not a cuddly pet you can keep inside and feed up," he continued doggedly. "He's a renegade, a wild card. He's not housebroken."

  She lifted both eyebrows. "And what makes you think I want to keep a man for a pet?" she asked with a pleasant smile. "Now that I am twenty-one, I'm free for the first time since I was six­teen—to date and do what I please." She searched his exasper­ated face with a curious painful pleasure. "I've never been able to experiment. Before," she said huskily, with her hands delib­erately shaping her full hips, her lips parted, her eyes come-hith-erish.

  The one soft word set him off unexpectedly. He caught her around the waist, dragged her into the shadows, and riveted her soft body to his powerful lean one.

  "You damned, irritating little flirt...!" he bit off against her mouth.

  The shock of the kiss was electrifying. He'd rarely ever touched her, and if he had, it had been tenderly, with absent af­fection. The only serious kiss she'd shared with him had been the first time she went out with Grier. This was something else. He was rough with her, as if he wasn't in control at all. One big, lean hand smoothed down to the base of her spine as his mouth devoured hers. He pushed her into the curve of his body and she felt again that hard, insistent pressure against her belly, a pres­sure she'd felt once before, when he was showing her what a pushover she could be with Cash.

  She gasped under his mouth, giving him the opening he wanted. His tongue thrust hard and deep past her open lips. He'd never done that before! Her short nails bit into his upper arms as odd, throbbing pulses shot through her lower body. She'd never felt anything like it. She shivered helplessly as a hot tension pulled her muscles tight and made her feel swollen all over. There was nothing tentative either in his kisses or the hold he had on her body. He meant business. She was too hungry for him to hold anything back. She gave in completely, trembling as she met his experienced passion with fierce enthusiasm.

  He dragged his mouth from hers finally and looked down at her with narrow, cold eyes in a face as hard as stone.

  She could barely see him. Her eyes were misty. She felt dazed, shocked, dizzy. Her hands let go of his arms and pressed into the white of his cotton shirt, smoothing over it helplessly, feel­ing his strength.

  He was off balance, too, and determined not to let it show. He pushed her away with a faint shove and stared down at her ar­rogantly. He was almost vibrating with passion, but he kept it carefully hidden. Except for the quick throb of his pulse, noth­ing showed on the surface.

  "Hell, no, you aren't free to experiment," he told her flatly, his voice deeper than usual, but just as harsh. "I haven't even started proceedings on the annulment yet. You keep that in mind. If you 'experiment' with Grier, you're committing adultery!"

  She put her fingertips to her swollen mouth. Her mind spun crazily. "You said you were going to file for an annulment the day I turned twenty-one!"

  "I haven't yet," he told her icily. "It never occurred to me that you'd be so hot to shack up with one of my friends—especially not a man Grier's age!"

  "He's only four years older than you are!" she accused in a choking tone.

  "If I'm too old for you, he damned sure is," he returned at once. "When the annulment goes through, I'll tell you. Until then," he added in a tone that was curiously possessive, with eyes that ate her slender figure, "you belong to me."

  The way he said it made her knees weak. She hated her in­ability to think up a snappy reply. She couldn't even pretend to be amused. Her mouth was hot and swollen, like her young body. She was aching for something. She was hungry, empty. Her lips carried the taste of him, masculine and spicy and minty, with an undertaste of whiskey. She could smell his aftershave on her face. She was drowning in unfamiliar longings. She wanted to step close to him and feel his body respond to hers as it had when they kissed. She wanted his mouth hard and hun­gry on her lips again. She wanted to feel his skin against hers...

  "On paper," he added when her lack of response to the state­ment made him uncomfortable. "After the annulment becomes final, what you do is no concern of mine. Ever again."

  He turned on his heel and walked back into the hall, leaving Christabel standing alone in the darkness with her heart on the stone floor.

  She'd only started back in when she saw Judd going out the door with Cash. Apparently there was some trouble between Leo Hart and Janie Brewster as well, because they were going out the same side door that Christabel and Judd had just come back in from. She heard later that Janie and Harley Fowler had held the crowd spellbound with an impromptu waltz.

  Grier and Judd came back in, and soon afterward, Judd took Tippy Moore home. She argued, from the look of things, but he was determined. Grier wouldn't tell Christabel what was said between the two men. But he was grinning when they left the hall at midnight.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Things were peaceful around the ranch after the Cattleman's Ball, because Judd and Christabel weren't speaking. The film crew broke late Tuesday so that everyone could spend Thanks­giving at home. Even the famous model apparently had family somewhere back east, because she went, too. Christabel had ex­pected Tippy to stick close to Judd during the holiday.

  Since she and Judd weren't speaking, Christabel assumed that she and Maude would have the house to themselves. Judd did turn up on Thanksgiving morning, though, silent and pre­occupied. Missing Tippy, Christabel thought wickedly. She was polite to him, but that was all. Maude glared at both of them while she and Crissy worked in the kitchen.

  "Some Thanksgiving this is," she scoffed. "With the two of you like wrestlers squaring off and looking for a better hold."

  Judd glared at Christabel. She glared right back.

  Maude threw up her hands and started working on her pump­kin pie.

  They ate in a companionable silence. Judd had halfheartedly watched the Thanksgiving Day parade, but without any real interest. He was still brooding about the murder case and the lack of suspects. He was worried about Christabel as well, especially since Jack Clark had actually come onto the ranch to confront her. He'd confronted Nick, and the man had told him about the cut fences as well. Too late, he believed her about the poisoned bull. He should have listened, and not dismissed her worries as childish fantasy. Now they had two poisoned bulls to deal with, as well as a murdered neighbor.

  He was worried because there weren't enough men around the place to keep a proper eye on things. Their foreman, Nick, was good, but he'd been away from law enforcement for several years and his senses weren't finely honed by day-to-day work situations, as Judd's were. Christabel could shoot a
gun, true, but what if Clark invaded the house in the middle of the night, when she and Maude were asleep?

  "Could you try a little harder to make my Thanksgiving mis­erable?" Maude asked both of them after a particularly long si­lence. "I mean, if you're going to do a job, do it right."

  They looked shamefaced.

  "The turkey is just right," Christabel offered.

  "And the dressing is out of this world," Judd agreed.

  Maude looked vaguely placated as she dug into a second helping of mashed potatoes.

  "Have you had any luck finding Hob Downey's killer?" Christabel asked abruptly.

  Judd glanced at her and shook his head. "Jack Clark was my best suspect. His alibi is ironclad."

  "That's what Cash said."

  He put down his fork, hard. His black eyes blazed. "If you could just manage five minutes without mentioning Grier to me...!"

  She put down her own fork and glared back at him. "He's my friend!"

  "Listen..." Maude began.

  "He's a black ops survivor with the staying power of a jackrabbit! He'll never be able to settle in a small town!"

  "...if we could just get along..." Maude continued.

  "What do you know about settling anywhere?" Christabel demanded fiercely. "And just how long do you think your high-society redheaded companion would last here? Or can you re­ally see her pushing a grocery cart around the local supermar­ket?" she added.

  "Stop it!" Maude interrupted. "Stop it, stop it! I am not ref-ereeing a prize fight over my perfectly cooked turkey!"

  They stopped in midsentence and stared at her. She was stand­ing now, with her arms folded and her mouth making a straight line.

  They glanced at each other and picked up their forks with res­ignation.

  Maude sat down.

  "Why should I expect her to settle down here in the first place?" Judd muttered, half under his breath.

  Christabel chewed a small piece of turkey. "Because she's wearing that diamond and emerald ring you bought her on her engagement finger, and she says our business is now her busi­ness, too," she told Judd through her teeth. "So, when's the wed­ding?" she added sarcastically.

  Judd didn't say anything. Maude was looking at him as if he'd grown horns. Christabel was still chewing. She didn't look up. Pity. His face was a classic study in guilt.

  He put his fork down and got up, wiping his mouth on his nap­kin before he put it gently on the table. "I have to get back up to Victoria. Happy Thanksgiving." His voice was as subdued as the regretful look he sent over Christabel's bowed head. She still didn't look up. Grimacing, he glanced at Maude, who was still glaring, and walked out the door, without dessert.

  It wasn't until the SUV was moving away that Crissy sipped coffee and looked at Maude.

  "I didn't know about it being an engagement ring," Maude muttered.

  "She didn't tell you because it wouldn't hurt you," Crissy said coldly.

  "He didn't think you knew about the ring, did he?" Maude

  guessed.

  "Well, he does now," she said coldly. She got up and started arranging empty dishes and aluminum foil on the counter. "Cash refused my invitation to join us for Thanksgiving so I'm taking supper to him later."

  Maude wanted to say something, but she wasn't sure what would be appropriate. Crissy was hurting. Probably Judd was, too. She didn't know why he'd bought the model that expen­sive ring, but she was sure that he regretted it, and that he hadn't wanted Crissy to know. Perhaps he hadn't expected Tippy to tell her. Men were like that, Maude thought wistfully, so blind to the real nature of women when they had a perceived rival.

  "If he doesn't file for an annulment soon, I'm going to," Crissy added as she filled a plate. "Let him marry her. He'll find out pretty quick that she won't sit around for five years waiting for him to notice her!"

  Maude winced. "Baby, Grier is a lobo wolf. He isn't marriage material."

  She looked at the older woman curiously. "Marriage material? Cash is my friend. I really like him. But I wouldn't want to marry him or anything."

  "Judd thinks you would." She sighed. "And Grier hopes you would."

  Crissy's eyes widened. "You're kidding."

  Maude shook her head. "You haven't seen the way he looks at you. Judd has. It's why he's suddenly started being hostile to a man he used to consider a friend. He's jealous, Crissy."

  She felt her cheeks go hot, but she turned back to her chore. "Sure he is. That's why he bought her an engagement ring and took her out for the evening on my birthday and didn't even get me a card, much less a present!"

  Maude wished she had a good excuse for that. She didn't.

  Neither did the man driving hell for leather back to Victoria. Judd felt sick at his stomach. He hadn't realized that Tippy would broadcast the fact that he'd raided his meager savings to buy her that expensive bauble. Certainly he hadn't wanted Christabel to know. She'd gone without luxuries for so long, just to keep the ranch working. She'd sacrificed even her youth for it. He'd repaid her by buying expensive presents for a woman he barely knew, and forgetting Christabel's most special of birth­days. She was bitter and hurt, and he couldn't blame her. Look­ing back, his own actions shocked him. No wonder she was turning to Grier. Damn the man, he had everything going for him when it came to attracting women. He could do intricate Latin dances, and he was cultured. He was in a league of his own as a womanizer, something Christabel didn't know. Or did she?

  He hit the steering wheel with the palm of his hand, furious at his own inability to interpret his turbulent feelings. Taking Tippy around flattered his ego. He'd attracted a woman that any bach­elor would die to escort. But it was taking a toll on his private life, and his professional one. He knew that she wasn't the sort of woman who could live with his job and his lifestyle, even if she'd been physically attracted to him—which she definitely wasn't. She was used to luxury and life in the fast lane. Funny that she hated Cash Grier, when he was exactly the sort of man she needed.

  But Grier wanted Christabel. He could see it every time the older man looked at her. He was smitten. He'd marry her in a heart­beat if she was free. She didn't seem to know, but Judd did. His lips made a thin line as he considered the possibilities once he put his signature on a legal paper. Her conscience wouldn't slow her down when she wasn't committed to their paper marriage.

  He could already picture Cash Grier down on his knees bran­dishing a wedding ring. Well, Christabel could go whistle for her annulment! It wasn't going to happen. Not yet, at least. After the new year, they could reassess their positions, when tempers cooled.

  Right now, he still had two murders to solve around the area, and no viable suspects. But he knew the murder of the Victoria woman and the brutal death of Hob Downey were connected. It would make things easier if he wasn't also worried about the poi­soning of the cattle he co-owned with Christabel, and her dis­covery of poor old Hob Downey's body. He knew the Clarks had been linked with cattle poisonings before. So despite their iron­clad alibis, he couldn't dismiss the Clarks as his prime suspects. But he knew better than most people how dangerous circum­stantial evidence could be. He was angry at Jack Clark for the confrontation with Christabel. At least, that's what any impar­tial outsider would make of any accusation coming from him. If only there was just one shred of physical evidence that would lead them to either of the brothers. But, to date, there wasn't any. He thought back to Thanksgiving Dinner and felt miserable that he'd let himself fly at Christabel like that. It was the men­tion of Grier. She couldn't have a single conversation without dragging the man's name into it. If only there were some way to get Grier out of Jacobsville for good! But he hadn't a clue how to accomplish it. Nor did he realize, then, why he even wanted to do it.

  Crissy had Thanksgiving supper with Grier and then went home and phoned the Harts. Leo wasn't home, so she tried Rey Hart. She was curious about the Harts' Japanese connections, and their interest in overseas markets. Rey was marketing vice president, and nobody knew
more than he did about opening up new avenues of profit.

  "I wondered if you and Judd might be interested in this op­portunity," Rey replied when she asked about the visiting dig­nitaries. "Cy Parks was, too, but he's already contracted his cattle for the next year, and so have the Tremaynes. Your steers would be perfect, if you're interested. You're like us, you raise organic beef. That's just what our contacts want for their restau­rant chain in Osaka and Tokyo."

  Her heart skipped. "Does the market pay well?"

  He chuckled. "It pays very well indeed," he said. "Especially now. Japan suffered some losses in its own beef resources last year. Now it's starting again. They're looking for stud cattle as well as prime organic beef. This is the best time to form al­liances." He quoted her a price and she had to sit down.

  "Oh, that's just extraordinary," she said heavily. "We've been selling at a loss for so long now...!"

  "Tell me about it," Rey replied. "Interested?"

  "Yes! So will Judd be, when he hears about it."

  "Suppose the two of you come over here tomorrow about one and meet with our guests? They're staying with Corrigan and Dorie."

  "Could we possibly do it Saturday? I'm off from school to­morrow for holidays, but Judd has to work."

  "Sorry, I forgot. Sure. Saturday at one. That suit you?"

  "Yes! Oh, Rey, you don't know how grateful we are," she began.

  "Everybody's having a hard time right now," he interposed. "Why do you think we're looking so fondly at overseas markets? We'll all be helping each other out. Which is what cattlemen— and cattlewomen—do, isn't it?"

  She smiled. "It is. I wish we could do something for you."

  "Well, you could..."

  "What?" she asked eagerly.

  "Bring Cash Grier with you. He's fluent in Japanese, as we aren't, and I'd like to have someone from our side translate as well as someone from their side, just to make sure we don't mis­understand anything."