by Diana Palmer
There were a lot of nights, like this one, when she paced and paced and wondered if he thought of her at all, if he regretted what had happened. Somehow, she doubted it. Everett had a wall like steel around him. He wouldn’t let anyone inside it. Especially not a city woman with an income that could top his.
She laughed bitterly. It was unfortunate that she had fallen in love for the first time with such a cynical man. It had warped the way she looked at the world. She felt as if she, too, were impregnable now. Her emotions were carefully wrapped away, where they couldn’t be touched. Nobody could reach her now. She felt safe in her warm cocoon. Of course, she was as incapable of caring now as he’d been. And in a way, that was a blessing. Because she couldn’t be hurt anymore. She could laugh and carry on with Drew, and it didn’t mean a thing. There was no risk in dating these days. Her heart was safely tucked away.
With a last uncaring look at the skyline, she turned off the lights and went to bed. Just as she drifted off, she wondered who the new client was going to be, and grinned at the memory of Sally’s remark about his sexy voice.
She overslept the next morning for the first time in months. With a shriek as she saw the time, she dressed hastily in a silky beige dress and high heels. She moaned over her unruly hair that would curl and feather all around her shoulders instead of going into a neat bun. She touched up her face, stepped into her shoes, and rushed out into the chill autumn morning without a jacket or a sweater. Oh, well, maybe she wouldn’t freeze, she told herself as she jumped into the cab she’d called and headed for the office.
“So there you are,” Drew said with mock anger as she rushed breathlessly in the door, her cheeks flushed, her eyes sparkling, her hair disheveled and sexy around her face. “I ought to fire you.”
“Go ahead. I dare you.” She laughed up at him. “And I’ll tell Sally all about that last expense voucher you faked.”
“Blackmailer!” he growled. He reached out and lifted her up in the air, laughing at her.
“Put me down, you male chauvinist.” She laughed gaily. Her face was a study in beauty, her body lusciously displayed in the pose, her hands on his shoulders, her hair swirling gracefully as she looked down at him. “Come on, put me down,” she coaxed. “Put me down, Drew, and I’ll take you to lunch.”
“In that case,” he murmured dryly.
“Jennifer! Drew!” Sally exclaimed, entering the room with a nervous laugh. “Stop clowning. We’ve got business to discuss, and you’re making a horrible first impression.”
“Oops,” Drew murmured. He turned his head just as Jennifer turned hers, and all the laughter and brightness drained out of her like air out of a balloon. She stared down at the newcomer with strained features and eyes that went from shock to extreme anger.
Drew set her down on her feet and turned, hand extended, grinning. “Sorry about that. Just chastising the staff for tardiness.” He chuckled. “I’m Andrew Peterson, resident architect. This is my associate, Jennifer King.”
“I know her name,” Everett Culhane said quietly. His dark eyes held no offer of peace, no hint of truce. They were angry and cold, and he smiled mockingly as his eyes went from Jennifer to Drew. “We’ve met.”
Sally looked poleaxed. It had just dawned on her who Everett was, when she got a look at Jennifer’s white face.
“Uh, Mr. Culhane is our new client,” Sally said hesitantly. Jennifer looked as if she might faint. “You remember, Jenny, I mentioned yesterday that he’d called.”
“You didn’t mention his name,” Jennifer said in a cool voice that shook with rage. “Excuse me, I have a phone call to make.”
“Not so fast,” Everett said quietly. “First we talk.”
Her eyes glittered at him, her body trembled with suppressed tension. “I have nothing to say to you, Mr. Culhane,” she managed. “And you have nothing to say to me that I care to hear.”
“Jennifer...” Sally began nervously.
“If my job depends on working for Mr. Culhane, you can have my resignation on the spot,” Jennifer said unsteadily. “I will not speak to him, much less work with him. I’m sorry.”
She turned and went on wobbly legs to her office, closing the door behind her. She couldn’t even sit down. She was shaking like a leaf all over and tears were burning her eyes. She heard voices outside, but ignored them. She stared at an abstract painting on the wall until she thought she’d go blind.
The sound of the door opening barely registered. Then it closed with a firm snap, and she glanced over her shoulder to find Everett inside.
It was only then that she noticed he was wearing a suit. A very expensive gray one that made his darkness even more formidable; his powerful body was streamlined and elegant in its new garments. He was holding a silverbelly Stetson in one lean hand and staring at her quietly, calculatingly.
“Please go away,” she said with as much conviction as she could muster.
“Why?” he asked carelessly, tossing his hat onto her desk. He dropped into an armchair and crossed one long leg over the other. He lit a cigarette and pulled the ashtray on her desk closer, but his eyes never left her ravaged face.
“If you want your house redone, there are other firms,” she told him, turning bravely, although her legs were still trembling.
He saw that, and his eyes narrowed, his jaw tautened. “Are you afraid of me?” he asked quietly.
“I’m outraged,” she replied in a voice that was little more than a whisper. Her hand brushed back a long, unruly strand of hair. “You might as well have taken a bullwhip to me, just before I left the ranch. What do you want now? To show me how prosperous you are? I’ve noticed the cut of your suit. And the fact that you can afford to hire this firm to redo the house does indicate a lot of money.” She smiled unsteadily. “Congratulations. I hope your sudden wealth makes you happy.”
He didn’t speak for a long minute. His eyes wandered over her slowly, without any insult, as if he’d forgotten what she looked like and needed to stare at her, to fill his eyes. “Aren’t you going to ask me how I came by it?” he demanded finally.
“No. Because I don’t care,” she said.
One corner of his mouth twitched a little. He took a draw from the cigarette and flicked an ash into the ashtray. “I sold off the oil rights.”
So much for sticking to your principles, she wanted to say. But she didn’t have the strength. She went behind her desk and sat down carefully.
“No comment?” he asked.
She blanched, remembering with staggering clarity the last time he’d said that. He seemed to remember it, too, because his jaw tautened and he drew in a harsh breath.
“I want my house done,” he said curtly. “I want you to do it. Nobody else. And I want you to stay with me while you work on the place.”
“Hell will freeze over first,” she said quietly.
“I was under the impression that the firm wasn’t operating in the black,” he said with an insolent appraisal of her office. “The commission on this project will be pretty large.”
“I told you once that you couldn’t buy me,” she said on a shuddering breath. “I’d jump off a cliff before I’d stay under the same roof with you!”
His eyes closed. When they opened again, he was staring down at his boot. “Is it that redheaded clown outside?” he asked suddenly, jerking his gaze up to catch hers.
Her lips trembled. “That’s none of your business.”
His eyes wandered slowly over her face. “You looked different with him,” he said deeply. “Alive, vibrant, happy. And then, the minute you spotted me, every bit of life went out of you. It was like watching water drain from a glass.”
“What did you expect, for God’s sake!” she burst out, her eyes wild. “You cut me up!”
He drew in a slow breath. “Yes. I know.”
“
Then why are you here?” she asked wearily. “What do you want from me?”
He stared at the cigarette with eyes that barely saw it. “I told you. I want my house done.” He looked up. “I can afford the best, and that’s what I want. You.”
There was an odd inflection in his voice, but she was too upset to hear it. She blinked her eyes, trying to get herself under control. “I won’t do it. Sally will just have to fire me.”
He got to his feet and loomed over the desk, crushing out the cigarette before he rammed his hands into his pockets and glared at her. “There are less pleasant ways to do this,” he said. “I could make things very difficult for your new employer.” His eyes challenged her. “Call my bluff. See if you can skip town with that on your conscience.”
She couldn’t, and he knew it. Her pride felt lacerated. “What do you think you’ll accomplish by forcing me to come back?” she asked. “I’d put a knife in you if I could. I won’t sleep with you, no matter what you do. So what will you get out of it?”
“My house decorated, of course,” he said lazily. His eyes wandered over her. “I’ve got over the other. Out of sight, out of mind, don’t they say?” He shrugged and turned away with a calculating look on his face. “And one body’s pretty much like another in the dark,” he added, reaching for his Stetson. His eyes caught the flutter of her lashes and he smiled to himself as he reached for the doorknob. “Well, Miss King, which is it? Do you come back to Big Spur with me or do I give Ms. Wade the sad news that you’re leaving her in the lurch?”
Her eyes flashed green sparks at him. What choice was there? But he’d pay for this. Somehow, she’d make him. “I’ll go,” she bit off.
He didn’t say another word. He left her office as though he were doing her a favor by letting her redecorate his house!
Sally came in the door minutes later, looking troubled and apologetic.
“I had no idea,” she told Jennifer. “Honest to God, I had no idea who he was.”
“Now you know,” Jennifer said on a shaky laugh.
“You don’t have to do it,” the older woman said curtly.
“Yes, I’m afraid I do. Everett doesn’t make idle threats,” she said, rising. “You’ve been too good to me, Sally. I can’t let him cause trouble for you on my account. I’ll go with him. After all, it’s just another job.”
“You look like death warmed over. I’ll send Drew with you. We’ll do something to justify him...”
“Everett would eat him alive,” she told Sally with a level stare. “And don’t pretend you don’t know it. Drew’s a nice man but he isn’t up to Everett’s weight or his temper. This is a private war.”
“Unarmed combat?” Sally asked sadly.
“Exactly. He has this thing about city women, and I wasn’t completely honest with him. He wants to get even.”
“I thought revenge went out with the Borgias,” Sally muttered.
“Not quite. Wish me luck. I’m going to need it.”
“If it gets too rough, call for reinforcements,” Sally said. “I’ll pack a bag and move in with you, Everett or no Everett.”
“You’re a pal,” Jennifer said warmly.
“I’m a rat,” came the dry reply. “I wish I hadn’t done this to you. If I’d known who he was, I’d never have told him you worked here.”
* * *
Jennifer had hoped to go down to Big Spur alone, but Everett went back to her apartment with her, his eyes daring her to refuse his company.
He waited in the living room while she packed, and not one corner escaped his scrutiny.
“Looking for dust?” she asked politely, case in hand.
He turned, cigarette in hand, studying her. “This place must cost you an arm,” he remarked.
“It does,” she said with deliberate sarcasm. “But I can afford it. I make a lot of money, as you reminded me.”
“I said a lot of cruel things, didn’t I, Jenny Wren?” he asked quietly, searching her shocked eyes. “Did I leave deep scars?”
She lifted her chin. “Can we go? The sooner we get there, the sooner I can get the job done and come home.”
“Didn’t you ever think of the ranch as home?” he asked, watching her. “You seemed to love it at first.”
“Things were different then,” she said noncommittally, and started for the door.
He took her case, his fingers brushing hers in the process, and producing electric results.
“Eddie and Bib gave me hell when they found out you’d gone,” he said as he opened the door for her.
“I imagine you were too busy celebrating to notice.”
He laughed shortly. “Celebrating? You damned little fool, I...!” He closed his mouth with a rough sigh. “Never mind. You might have left a nasty note or something.”
“Why, so you’d know where I went?” she demanded. “That was the last thing I wanted.”
“So I noticed,” he agreed. He locked the door, handed her the key, and started down the hall toward the elevator. “Libby told me the name of the firm you’d worked for. It wasn’t hard to guess you’d get a job with them.”
She tossed her hair. “So that was how you found me.”
“We’ve got some unfinished business,” he replied as they waited for the elevator. His dark eyes held hers and she had to clench her fists to keep from kicking him. He had a power over her that all her anger couldn’t stop. Deep beneath the layer of ice was a blazing inferno of hunger and love, but she’d die before she’d show it to him.
“I hate you,” she breathed.
“Yes, I know you do,” he said with an odd satisfaction.
“Mr. Culhane...”
“You used to call me Rett,” he recalled, studying her. “Especially,” he added quietly, “when we made love.”
Her face began to color and she aimed a kick at his shins. He jumped back just as the elevator door opened.
“Pig!” she ground out.
“Now, honey, think of the kids,” he drawled, aiming a glance at the elevator full of fascinated spectators. “If you knock me down, how can I support the ten of you?”
Red-faced, she got in ahead of him and wished with all her heart that the elevator doors would close right dead center on him. They didn’t.
He sighed loudly, glancing down at her. “I begged you not to run off with that salesman,” he said in a sad drawl. “I told you he’d lead you into a life of sin!”
There were murmured exclamations all around and a buzz of conversation. She glared up at him. Two could play that game.
“Well, what did you expect me to do, sit at home and knit while you ran around with that black-eyed hussy?” she drawled back. “And me in my delicate condition...”
“Delicate condition...?” he murmured, shocked at her unexpected remark.
“And it’s your baby, too, you animal,” she said with a mock sob, glaring up at him.
“Darling!” he burst out. “You didn’t tell me!”
And he grabbed her and kissed her hungrily right there in front of the whole crowd while she gasped and counted to ten and tried not to let him see that she was melting into the floor from the delicious contact with his mouth.
The elevator doors opened and he lifted his head as the other occupants filed out. He was breathing unsteadily and his eyes held hers. “No,” he whispered when she tried to move away. His arm caught her and his head bent. “I need you,” he whispered shakily. “Need you so...!”
That brought it all back. Need. He needed her. He just needed a body, that was all, and she knew it! She jerked herself out of his arms and stomped off the elevator.
“You try that again and I’ll vanish!” she threatened, glaring up at him when they were outside the building. Her face was flushed, her breath shuddering. “I mean it! I’ll disappear
and you won’t find me this time!”
He shrugged. “Suit yourself.” He walked alongside her, all the brief humor gone out of his face. She wondered minutes later if it had been there at all.
Chapter Nine
HE HAD a Lincoln now. Not only the car, but a driver to go with it. He handed her bag to the uniformed driver and put Jennifer in the backseat beside him.
“Aren’t we coming up in the world, though?” she asked with cool sarcasm.
“Don’t you like it?” he replied mockingly. He leaned back against the seat facing her and lit a cigarette. “I didn’t think a woman alive could resist flashy money.”
She remembered reluctantly how he’d already been thrown over once for the lack of wealth. Part of her tender heart felt sorry for him. But not any part that was going to show, she told herself.
“You could buy your share now, I imagine,” she said, glancing out the window at the traffic.
He blew out a thin cloud of smoke. The driver climbed in under the wheel and, starting the powerful car, pulled out into the street.
“I imagine so.”
She stared at the purse in her lap. “They really did find oil out there?” she asked.
“Sure did. Barrels and barrels.” He glanced at her over his cigarette. “The whole damned skyline’s cluttered with rigs these days. Metal grasshoppers.” He sighed. “The cattle don’t even seem to mind them. They just graze right on.”
Wouldn’t it be something if a geyser blew out under one of his prize Herefords one day, she mused. She almost told him, and then remembered the animosity between them. It had been a good kind of relationship that they’d had. If only Everett hadn’t ruined it.
“It’s a little late to go into it now,” he said quietly. “But I didn’t mean to hurt you that much. Once I cooled down, I would have apologized.”