Bobby Tom laughed and drew her against him.
Gracie wasn’t a fainthearted person, and she wouldn’t have missed this sight for the world, but bats were bats, and as another came nearer than she would have liked, she automatically ducked into his chest, which only encouraged him to laugh harder.
“I knew you’d like it.” He rubbed her back. “Austin has the biggest bat population of any city in the world. A whole bunch of them roost under that bridge. I don’t know exactly how they figure it, but they say these bats eat something like twenty thousand pounds of bugs a night. Usually they don’t come out until it’s darker, which makes them harder to see, but it’s been dry lately and they’ve been coming out a little earlier so they have enough time to feed, which reminds me that I’m getting hungry. How do you feel about some good Tex-Mex?”
“It sounds wonderful.”
As usual, eating out with Bobby Tom meant that she got to meet lots of new people. They ended up at Hole in the Wall, one of Austin’s traditional night spots, listening to some of the city’s famed local musicians. She wanted to pay for her own meal when it was time to leave, but since he had predictably picked up the tab for a roomful of people, she waited until they were walking to the car to press the bills she’d counted out from her wallet into his pocket.
He drew them back out. “What’s this?”
She braced herself, knowing he wasn’t going to like this. “I’m paying for my own dinner.”
His eyebrows shot up, and he looked as if he were going to explode. “You sure as hell are not!” He jammed the bills back into her purse.
She knew she’d lose a physical struggle with him, so she resolved to add the money to what she owed him. “I’m not going to forget about this, especially now that we’ve slept together. That makes it even more important that I pay my own way. I told you, Bobby Tom. I’m not taking anything from you.”
“We’re on a date!”
“Dutch treat.”
“I don’t do Dutch treat! I don’t ever do Dutch treat, so just put it right out of your mind! And that reminds me . . . I found a wad of cash in my desk drawer yesterday morning. I thought I must have left it there and forgot about it, but now I’m wondering. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”
“That’s money for rent—”
“Rent! You don’t owe me for any rent!”
“. . . and that black cocktail dress you bought me.”
“That dress was a present. Don’t you even think about giving me money for it.”
“I’m not in a position to accept presents from you.”
“We’re engaged!”
“We’re not engaged. I pay my own way, Bobby Tom. I realize this may be a hard thing for you to accept, but it’s very important to me and I want your promise that you’ll respect my wishes, especially now that we’ve slept together.”
He gritted his teeth. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard of. If you believe I’m going to touch a cent of your money, you can think again.”
“What you do with it is up to you, but I pay my debts.”
“They aren’t debts!”
“They are to me. I told you from the beginning. I’m not taking anything from you.”
He stalked away from her, cursing under his breath. As he reached the car, he drew off his hat and smacked it against his leg. She had the distinct impression that he would rather have smacked her.
Their flight back to Telarosa took place in silence. She didn’t like the fact that the good mood of the day had been spoiled, but he needed to understand that she wouldn’t be swayed about this. By the time they got home, he seemed to have settled down a bit. She thanked him for showing her such a wonderful time and headed up the stairs to her apartment, where she shed her clothes and stepped into the shower.
When she came out, she caught her breath to find him sitting on the only chair in her bedroom, naked except for his jeans.
“I locked the door,” she said.
“I’m your landlord, remember? I’ve got a key.”
Her fingers tightened on the white bath towel she’d wrapped herself in. He wasn’t smiling, and she didn’t know what to expect.
“Get on the bed, Gracie.”
“Maybe— Maybe we should talk about this.”
“Do it!”
She got on the bed.
He rose from the chair and lowered his zipper. She dug the fingers of her free hand into the mattress, feeling an uneasy combination of nervousness and excitement. He came toward her.
Her heart thudded so hard in her chest she could feel it resonate in her throat. He reached down and stripped her towel away. “Are you going to pay me back for this, too?”
Before she could answer, he’d grabbed the pillow next to her and shoved it under her hips.
“What—”
“Be quiet.” Bracing his knee on the edge of the bed, he caught her thighs in his hands and pushed them apart. For a moment he gazed at her, then he sat on the edge of the bed and opened her with his thumbs.
Her breath caught in her throat as he lowered his head. She felt the abrasion of his beard on her inner thigh. He took a nip of the soft skin there.
“Now I’m going to please you,” he said.
And then, because he hadn’t been able to exert his mastery over her with the strength of his will, he conquered her another way.
In the end, there had been no other decision for Suzy to make. It had been nearly a month since Way Sawyer had issued his horrible proposition, and she’d been able to think of little else. He’d finally returned to town a week ago, but he hadn’t called her until yesterday. Just the sound of his voice had panicked her, and when he’d announced that he was entertaining some business associates in San Antonio and he wanted her to serve as his hostess, she’d barely been able to respond.
As soon as she’d hung up the telephone, she’d tried to reach Bobby Tom, not to tell him what had happened—she couldn’t do that—but merely to hear the familiar sound of his voice. He hadn’t been at his house, however, and she’d learned when she talked to Gracie this morning that the two of them had been in Austin.
As the chauffeured Lincoln drew away from her house for the trip to San Antonio, a bubble of hysteria rose inside her. She felt like a menopausal Joan of Arc about to sacrifice herself for the good of the people. But she wasn’t foolish enough to expect the people to be grateful. When her relationship with Way became public, she would be universally condemned for consorting with the enemy.
Way lived on the top two floors of a beautiful old white limestone residential building that overlooked San Antonio’s famous Riverwalk. She was admitted by a maid, who took her overnight bag from the chauffeur and informed her that Mr. Sawyer would be arriving shortly.
The duplex had an airy, tropical feel. Vanilla walls with chalk white trim set off the comfortable furniture upholstered in bright yellow and geranium red. The bottom halves of the tall, narrow windows were covered with black iron grillwork, and lush greenery filled the corners, giving the room a soothing atmosphere that was at odds with her pitching stomach. The maid directed her to a small bedroom on the same floor, where she could change into her evening clothes. The room was obviously set aside for guests, but Suzy had no idea whether the maid had put her there of her own accord, or whether Way had ordered it. She clung to the hope that she would sleep here alone tonight.
She changed for dinner into a peacock blue silk dress with a row of domed mirrored buttons running across one shoulder. As she slipped into a pair of gray pumps, she heard voices from the living room and knew that Way had returned. She took as long as she could with her makeup, trying to compose herself with the familiar female rituals of mascara and lipstick, then stared blindly at a magazine that had been left on the nightstand. When she could avoid it no longer, she forced herself to make her way to the living room.
Way stood at the windows looking down on the Riverwalk. He wore formal evening dress and turn
ed slowly as she walked in. “You look lovely, Suzy. But you’ve always been the most beautiful woman in Telarosa.”
She wouldn’t pretend this was a normal social encounter by thanking him for his compliment, and she remained silent.
He took a step toward her. “There are three couples dining with us tonight. Are you good with names?”
“Not really.”
Ignoring the chilly tone of her response, he smiled. “I’ll give you a head start, then.” She found herself listening out of habit as he proceeded to list the guests and tell her something about each one. Just as he finished, the elevator delivered the first couple to the door.
By the time the gathering had moved to the dining room, Suzy realized that she was actually enjoying herself. She had been afraid that Way would publicly humiliate her by making certain everyone understood she was his mistress, but he referred to her only as a longtime friend and did not insinuate anything more.
He was a considerate host, and she noticed how skillfully he managed to draw the wives into the conversation. She thought of the number of gatherings she had attended where the women sat like mutes while their husbands went on and on about business. This was also the first social occasion she could remember attending in years where she hadn’t been introduced as Bobby Tom Denton’s mother. Instead, Way mentioned only her work with the Board of Education, and she found herself addressing the challenges of running a small public school system instead of answering questions about her famous son.
When the guests began to leave, however, her anxiety returned. So far, she had refused to torture herself with mental images of the two of them alone in a bedroom, but as the time approached, she found it increasingly difficult to keep those thoughts at bay. She remembered Hoyt’s hearty laughter, his lusty appetites, and open display of emotion. In contrast, Way was cool and remote. She couldn’t imagine anything ruffling him, anything making him laugh hard or cry or give in to the normal range of human emotions.
Way shut the door after the last of the guests and turned just in time to see her shudder. “Are you cold?”
“No. No, I’m fine.” She used to dread the end of her own dinner parties when she was faced with a kitchen full of dirty dishes. Now she would have given anything for that cleanup job, but a pair of efficient servants had already taken care of it.
He clasped her arm lightly and drew her back into the living room. “How’s your golf game?”
Golf was the farthest thing from her mind, and the question startled her. “The last time Bobby Tom and I played, I beat him by a stroke.”
“Congratulations. What did you shoot?” Releasing her, he sat down at one end of the couch and unfastened his bowtie.
“Eighty-five.”
“Not bad. I’m surprised you can beat your son. He’s a fine athlete.”
“He hits a long ball, but he gets himself into a lot of trouble.”
“You’ve played all your life, haven’t you?”
She walked over toward the windows and looked down on the strings of tiny white lights dangling over the Riverwalk from the cypress trees. “Yes. My father was a golfer.”
“I remember. I tried to get a job caddying at his country club when I was a kid, but they told me I had to cut my hair first.” He smiled. “I wasn’t willing to give up my D.A., so I pumped gas instead.”
She had a mental image of him leaning against a locker and running a black plastic comb through his slicked-back hair. Hoyt had worn a crew cut.
He pulled his bow tie free and undid his collar button. “I made a seven-thirty tee time for the two of us tomorrow morning at my club. We can beat some of the heat.”
“I don’t have my clubs or my shoes.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Don’t you have to work?”
“I’m my own boss, Suzy.”
“I—I really need to be back by noon.”
“Do you have another commitment?”
She didn’t, and she realized she was being foolish. If she had to spend time with him, what better place than on a golf course? “I have some errands to run, but I can do them later. Golf will be fine.”
“Good.” He stood, slipped off his jacket, and tossed it down on the couch. “Would you like to see the terrace?”
“I’d enjoy that.” Anything to postpone what was to come.
To her alarm, he headed for the staircase. She had assumed the terrace was off this level of the duplex, but now she realized it must lie off the master bedroom upstairs. He had reached the bottom step before he sensed that she wasn’t following him. He turned and regarded her evenly. “You don’t have to take your clothes off to see the view.”
“Please don’t be flippant about this.”
“Then stop looking at me as if I’m going to rape you. I’m not, you know.” Turning his back on her, he stalked up the stairs.
She followed slowly behind.
17
Suzy approached the railing where Way was standing, with his hands in his pockets, looking out over the San Antonio skyline. Keeping a careful distance between them, she came up next to him.
“Everything dries out quickly up here,” he said, without looking at her. “Irrigation is a real challenge.”
She glanced around at the terra-cotta tubs that held ornamental trees and the planters that displayed colorful blooming annuals. A hibiscus bearing bright yellow flowers brushed the side of her skirt. She would rather talk about gardens than what loomed ahead.
“I have the same problem with some of my hanging baskets. They’re under the eaves, so they don’t get any rainwater.”
“Why don’t you move them?”
“I love looking at them from my bedroom window.”
She immediately regretted mentioning the bedroom and looked away from him.
“For a mature woman, you’re as skittish as a teenager.” His voice was soft and vaguely husky. She stiffened as he turned to her and cupped her upper arms in the palms of his hands. The warmth of his body penetrated the thin silk of her dress. He dipped his head.
Her lips parted in protest as his mouth covered her own. She stood rigidly and braced herself for some terrible assault, but his kiss was surprisingly gentle. He brushed his lips over hers—she had not expected them to feel so soft and warm. Her eyes drifted closed.
He shifted his weight and lightly pressed his hips to hers. She tensed as she felt his arousal. He slowly drew away from her, and, as she regarded him, she was unable to hide her confusion. Had she actually given in to him for a few seconds? Surely not. Surely it was revulsion she was feeling. Regardless of his power and his money, this was still Way Sawyer, the biggest hoodlum at Telarosa High.
He brushed a lock of hair back from her cheek. “You look like a kid who just got her first kiss.”
His comment flustered her nearly as much as his kiss. “I don’t have much experience with this.”
“You were married for thirty years.”
“That’s not what I meant. I meant— With anybody else.”
“You’ve never been with anybody but Hoyt, have you?”
“I guess I seem like a real country mouse to you, don’t I?”
“He’s been dead four years.”
She ducked her head and heard the night breeze carry her whispered words. “So have I.”
The silence stretched between them, and when he spoke, she heard something almost like uncertainty in his voice. “I think we need a little time to get to know each other better before this goes farther, don’t you?”
Hope sprang inside her, and her eyes widened as she gazed up at him. “You’re not going to— You won’t press me?”
The mouth that had kissed her only moments before grew hard. “Do you want me to?”
Her hope faded, replaced by a terrible anger. “You’re playing games with me again. How can you be so cruel?”
She spun away from him and rushed back through the terrace doors. He caught her by the shoulders on the landing, just outside t
he doors to the master bedroom, and she shrank back from the bleakness in his eyes.
“You don’t know what cruelty is,” he said. “You were sheltered from the moment you were born.”
“That’s not true!”
“Isn’t it? Do you know what it’s like to go to bed hungry? Do you know what it’s like to watch your mother die a slow death of shame?”
She could not endure his baiting for another moment. Turning abruptly toward the bedroom doors, she twisted the knob in her hands. “Let’s get this over with.”
As she entered the room, she heard him curse softly beneath his breath. Feeling like a condemned prisoner, she gazed around at the deep red lacquered walls. A massive mahogany bed, covered with dark paisley throw pillows, sat in a recessed cove behind her. Trembling, she turned to him.
“I don’t want the lights on.”
Once again, he seemed hesitant. “Suzy—”
She cut him off. “I won’t do it with the lights on.”
“Do you want to pretend I’m Hoyt?” he said angrily.
“I could never confuse you with Hoyt Denton.”
He spoke as coldly as she had. “I’m taking you downstairs. You can sleep in the guest room.”
“No!” Her hands balled into fists at her sides. “I’m not going to let you do this to me. You’re not going to play any more mind games with me! Both of us know that I’m bought and paid for. But, then, I guess you understand exactly how that works. You must have learned it from your mother.” She spun away, turning toward the bathroom, and then winced as her words came back to her. Regardless of the circumstances, she should never have said such a hateful thing.
“Fill the tub while you’re in there.”
She shivered at the deadly calm in his voice. “I don’t want to do that.”
“I do.” He spoke with no emotion at all. “Leave the lights off if that’s your preference, but fill the tub.”
With a hiss of dismay, she fled into the bathroom and shut the door. Leaning against it, she felt her heart thudding, and tears stung her eyes against the ugliness of the scene. She’d thought she could simply climb beneath the covers in his darkened bedroom, open her legs, and let him do what he had to, quickly and efficiently, while she lost herself in a blessed numbness. She didn’t want to bathe with him or play sexual games. She wanted this first time done with, and she wanted to emerge as unaffected as possible.
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