by Diana Palmer
“Oh, I intend to,” he said with malicious glee. “I’m not sure I’ve ever made love to a virgin in my life. It was fascinating. You just go right in headfirst, don’t you? There’s not even a sense of self-preservation in you.”
She glared at him. “Having fun?”
“Sure.” He rested his arm over the back of the sofa and his gaze was slow and thorough as it fell to her breasts and watched their soft rise and fall. “Pretty little creature,” he mused. “All pink and dusk.”
“You stop that, J. D. Langley,” she muttered hotly. “It isn’t decent to even talk about it.”
One eyebrow went up. “This is the nineties,” he reminded her.
“Wonderful,” she told him. “Life is liberal. No more rules and codes of behavior. No wonder the world’s a mess.”
He leaned back, chuckling. “As it happens, I agree with you. Rules aren’t a bad thing, when they prevent the kind of insanity that’s gripping the world today. But periodically, people have to find that out for themselves. Ever heard of the Roaring Twenties?” he added.
“Gin flowed like water, women smoked, sexually transmitted diseases ran rampant because everybody was promiscuous…”
“You’re getting the idea. But it’s nothing new. People had cycles when rules were suspended even back in the Roman Empire. There were orgies and every evil known to man thrived. Then society woke up and the cycle started all over again. The only certain thing in life, Miss York, is change.”
“I suppose so. But it’s discouraging.”
“Maybe you haven’t heard, but the majority of people in this country feel exactly the same way you do,” he said. “America is still a very moral place, little one. But it’s what’s different that makes news, not what’s traditional.”
“I see.” She smiled. “That’s encouraging.”
“You come from wealth. Odd that you don’t have an exaggerated sense of morality to go with it.”
“You mean, because I was rich, I should be greedy and pleasure-loving and indifferent to my fellow man?” she teased. “Actually, that’s a stereotype.”
“I get the picture.” He stared at her silently, his eyes growing dark with memory. “I wanted you like hell. But in a way, I’m glad you aren’t on the pill.”
She eyed him curiously. “You didn’t sound glad.”
“Wanting hurts a man when he can’t satisfy it,” he explained matter-of-factly. “But you weren’t on the pill and I didn’t have anything with me to protect you from pregnancy. That’s one risk I’ll never take.”
She smiled at him. “I feel the same way.”
His eyes warmed. “We’d better not create any accidental people,” he said softly. “That’s why I stopped. That,” he added, “and the fact that I’m too old-fashioned to dishonor a chaste woman. Go ahead. Laugh,” he invited. “But it’s how I feel.”
“Oh, Donavan, you and I are throwbacks to another time,” she said heavily. “There’s no place for us on earth.”
“Why, sure there is, honey,” he disagreed. “I’ll carry you to church with me one Sunday and prove to you that we’re not alone in the way we think. Listen, it’s the radicals who are the minority.” He leaned closer. “But the radicals are the ones who make news.”
She laughed. “I guess so. I’d like to go to church with you,” she said shyly. “I haven’t been in a long time. Our housekeeper used to let me go to services with her, but when she quit I had no way to get there. It was before I was old enough to drive.”
“Poor little rich girl,” he said, but he smiled and the words sounded affectionate.
She smiled back. Everything had changed, suddenly. She looked at him and knew without question that she could love him if she was ever given the chance.
He reached out and tapped her cheek. “Let’s go. And from now on, stay out of lonely ranch houses with amorous bachelors. Got that?”
“You were the one who dragged me here,” she exclaimed.
“That’s right, blame it all on me,” he agreed after he’d put the coffee things away and then escorted her out the door. “It’s always the man who leads the sweet, innocent girl into a life of sin.”
She frowned. “Isn’t it the woman who’s supposed to lead the innocent man into it?”
He raised both eyebrows as he locked the door. “There aren’t any innocent men.”
“A likely story. What about priests and monks?”
He sighed. “Well, other than them,” he conceded.
“I like your house,” she said.
He opened the car door and put her inside. “I like it, too.” He got in and started the engine, pausing to glance her way. “We may be heading for a fall, but I’m game if you are.”
“Game?” she asked blankly.
He slid a lean hand under her nape and brought her face under his, very gently. He bent to kiss her, with tenderness and respect. “In the old days,” he whispered, “they called it courting.”
She felt a wave of heat rush over her. Wide-eyed, she stared helplessly up at him.
He nodded, his face solemn. “That’s right, I said I didn’t believe in marriage. But there’s always the one woman who can make a man change his mind.” His eyes dropped to her mouth. “I want Jeff. If I’m married I have a good chance of getting him. But you and I could give each other a lot, too. If you’re willing, we’ll start spending time together and see where it leads.”
“I’m rich,” she began hesitantly.
“Don’t worry. I won’t hold it against you,” he whispered, smiling as he kissed her again. What he didn’t mention was that he had his own suspicions about her future. He didn’t think she was going to inherit anything at all, and that would put her right in his league. She’d be lost and alone, except for him, when the boom fell. She was sweet and biddable and he wanted her. Jeff needed a stable environment. It wouldn’t hurt his chances with the new president of Mesa Blanco to be a settled family man, either, but that was only a minor consideration. Jeff came first. He’d worry about the complications later. Right now, he was going to get in over his head for once without looking too closely at his motives.
Chapter 5
It was all Fay could do to work the next day. She was so lighthearted that she wondered how she managed to keep both feet on the floor.
Her dreams of being with Donavan honestly hadn’t included marriage because he’d said that he didn’t believe in it. In fact, he’d given her hell for chasing him. How ironic that she’d landed in his orbit at all.
Probably, she had to admit, he needed a wife so that he could gain custody of his nephew, and to help him get ahead in his job. He didn’t want a rich wife.
But why, then, was he paying her any attention at all? She’d been honest with him. She’d told him that in a couple of weeks she stood to inherit a fortune. Hadn’t he believed her?
Work piled up and she realized that she was paying more attention to her own thoughts than she was to her job, so she settled down to the job-related problems.
“How’s everything going?” Abby asked when she came by to meet Calhoun for lunch.
“Great!”
Abby lifted a curious eyebrow. “Really?”
She glanced around her and leaned forward. “Donavan’s taking me out.”
“J.D.?”
“Don’t look so horrified,” Fay laughed. “He’s serious. He was the perfect gentleman last night and he actually talked about a commitment.”
“J.D.?”
Fay nodded. “J.D. Did you know he had a nephew and there’s a custody suit in the offing?”
“Yes,” Abby said, sobering at once. “The poor little boy’s had a hard time. I don’t like J.D. a lot, but I’ll give him credit for caring about Jeff. He really does.” She frowned. “Is that why he’s talking seriously?”
“Probably,” Fay said, then she smiled. “I don’t have any illusions that he’s suddenly discovered undying love for me. But he might learn to love me one day. Love takes time.”
&
nbsp; “Yes,” Abby said, remembering. “But you’re still rich.”
“He said it wouldn’t matter.”
Abby didn’t say another word, until she was alone with Calhoun. “I’m afraid Fay’s heading for a bad fall,” she told him when they were sharing a quick lunch. “J.D. doesn’t seem to mind about her inheritance, but you know how he is about rich women.”
“I think he’s got some suspicions that her uncle Henry isn’t telling her everything. I have some of my own,” he added. “I wonder if Fay has anything left to inherit.”
“I had the same feeling. Poor Fay. J.D. doesn’t love her, I know he doesn’t. He’s too much of a womanizer to feel anything deep for a woman.”
Calhoun lifted an eyebrow and pursed his lips. “He may be a reforming womanizer.” He covered her hand with his and clasped it affectionately. “We all meet our Waterloo eventually. God, I’m glad I met mine with you!”
“Oh, so am I, my darling,” she said softly. She leaned forward and kissed him tenderly, despite the amused looks from other diners. “You and the boys are my whole life.”
“We’ve had a good beginning,” he agreed. “And the best is still yet to come. We’re very lucky.”
“Very. I hope Fay fares as well,” she added before she concentrated on her food instead of her sexy husband.
Fay didn’t see Donavan again for a few days. He’d phoned just to say that he was going out of town on business and that he’d call her when he got back. He hadn’t sounded anything like an impatient lover, although he had sounded impatient, as if he hadn’t wanted to call her in the first place. She’d been morose ever since, wondering if he’d had second thoughts. Her joy deflated almost at once.
From the day Donavan left, her life went downhill. Two days later she had to go to see Barry Holman about her inheritance. A nervous Uncle Henry was in the office when she got there, and Mr. Holman didn’t look very happy.
“Sit down, Fay,” Barry said quietly, standing until she was seated.
“It’s bad news, isn’t it?” she asked, looking from one of them to the other with quick, uneasy eyes.
“I’m afraid so,” Barry began, and went on to tell her the bad news. She was penniless.
“I’m sorry, honey,” Uncle Henry said heavily. “I did my best, honest to God I did. I pushed you at Sean because I hoped the two of you might hit it off. Sean’s rich.” His shoulders moved helplessly. “I thought if you married him, you wouldn’t have to give up so much.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked miserably.
“I didn’t know how,” he replied. “Your father was a speculator, but for once, he picked the wrong thing to speculate on. I didn’t know until a few weeks ago myself, when I tried to liquidate the stock. It fell almost overnight. There’s nothing left. Just nothing.” He spread his hands. “Fay, you can always come back and live with me…”
“I have a job,” she said thinly, remembering almost at once that it was only a temporary job and would soon end. She felt like crying.
“You still have the Mercedes,” Barry said surprisingly. “Your father had the foresight to take out insurance that would pay it off if he died. That’s yours, and it has a high resale value. I could handle that for you, if you like. Then you’d have a little ready capital and enough over to buy a smaller car.”
“I’d appreciate that,” she said dully. “I’ll get the papers together and bring them by in the morning, if that’s all right.”
“That will be fine. There are just a few more details, and I’ll need your signature in several places…”
Fay hardly heard anything else that was said. She felt numb. In shock. Just a week ago, she’d been in Donavan’s arms with a whole future to look forward to and an inheritance to fall back on. Now she had nothing at all. Even Donavan had seemed to have second thoughts, because he’d certainly dropped her flat.
What if he’d only wanted her for the money in the first place? she thought with hysteria. Or to help him provide a settled home so that he could get custody of his nephew?
The more she worried it in her mind, the worse it got. Donavan hadn’t wanted her when she was rich, he’d made sure she knew it. Then all at once, about the time he decided to fight for custody of his nephew, he became suddenly interested in her.
It all fit. The only thing that didn’t was his abrupt lack of interest. Had he decided he didn’t need her after all? Well, she wouldn’t do him much good now, she thought wildly. She was just another member of the working class, and what was she going to do when her job folded?
She went through the motions of her job for the rest of the day, white-faced and terrified. Calhoun noticed, but when he asked what was wrong, she only smiled and pretended it was a headache.
That didn’t fool him. He knew too much about women. He picked up the phone and called Barry Holman.
“I know it’s all confidential and you can’t tell me anything,” Calhoun said. “But you can pause in significant places. I only want to help. Fay didn’t get a damned thing did she?”
There was a long pause.
“That’s what I thought,” Calhoun said quietly. “Poor kid.”
“She really needs that job,” Barry replied. “Knowing it’s only temporary is probably eating her up. She’s never had to depend on herself before.”
“No problem there,” Calhoun returned, smiling. “Fay’s got a job here as long as she can type. We’ll find a niche for her. Damn Henry!”
“Not his fault,” Barry said. “A bad investment gone sour, that’s all. The old story, but a tragic one for Fay. All she’s got left is the Mercedes. And you didn’t hear this from me,” he added firmly.
“Of course not! I’ll just sort of mention that she’s working out too well to let go and we want to keep her on.”
Barry chuckled. “She’ll appreciate that.”
“We appreciate her. For a debutante, she’s a hell of a hard worker.” His eyes narrowed. “See you,” he said, and hung up. He had another call to make.
He dialed J. D. Langley’s number.
“Hello?” came the abrupt reply.
“I thought you were out of town,” Calhoun said curtly.
“I was. I just got in fifteen minutes ago. I was having a cup of coffee. What’s wrong?” he asked. “Something about the cattle?”
“Something about Fay York,” Calhoun said.
There was a deathly hush. “Has anything happened to her?” he asked, feeling as if the ground had been cut out from under him. “Is she all right?”
Calhoun felt relieved. That was genuine concern in the other man’s voice. Of course, and he hated himself for thinking of it, it could be that J.D. was counting on Fay’s money to help him get his nephew. If he was, he was going to do Fay a big favor.
“I’m going to tell you something I’m not supposed to know,” he said. “You aren’t supposed to know it, either, so don’t let on.”
“What?”
“Fay didn’t get a penny. Her father lost everything. All she inherits is the Mercedes.”
J.D. didn’t say anything, and Calhoun felt sorry for Fay. Until the sound of soft laughter came over the line and eased his mind.
“So she’s busted,” Donavan said warmly. “I had a feeling it would work out like that. I’m sorry for her, but I’m damned glad in a way. I wouldn’t want people to think another Langley was taking the easy way out with a rich wife.”
“You’re really serious about her?” Calhoun asked, surprised.
“Why is that so hard to believe? You must have noticed that she’s got a heart as big as all outdoors,” he replied. Then he spoiled it all by adding, “She’s just the kind of foster mother Jeff needs.”
“You aren’t going to marry her over a custody suit?”
“Whatever it is, is none of your business, Ballenger,” J.D. said with icy politeness. “If Fay wants to marry me, that’s her affair.”
“And if she loves you, what then?”
“She isn’t old enoug
h to love anyone yet,” Donavan said carelessly. “She’s infatuated with me, and she needs a little security. I can give her enough to make her happy.”
Calhoun called him a name he wouldn’t have wanted Abby to hear. “You’re lower than I gave you credit for,” he added coldly.
“And it’s still none of your damned business. I’ll be in to check on the Mesa Blanco stock in the morning.” He hung up, leaving Calhoun furious.
After hanging up on Calhoun, Donavan sipped his coffee without really tasting it. He was fond of Fay, and physically she appealed to him as no other woman had. She was innocent, and that alone excited him. He could make her happy.
But the thing was to get Jeff, to rescue the boy who was his sister’s only child from the hell he was living in. It had taken all his powers of persuasion and a lot of tongue-biting to get his venomous brother-in-law to let Jeff come up here just for the spring holidays. Possession was nine-tenths of the law. He had Jeff and he was going to keep him. He’d already talked to the lawyer he shared with Mesa Blanco about filing for custody, so the wheels were turning.
“Are you sure you won’t mind having me around, Uncle Don?” Jeff asked from his sprawled position in the armchair. With his crewcut and husky physique, he looked the very picture of a boy who was all boy.
“No, sport, I won’t,” Donavan said. “We get along pretty good most of the time.”
Jeff smiled. “Sure we do. Can we go riding tomorrow?”
“Maybe. First we have to go to the feedlot and check up on the feeder cattle. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Fay, right?” he asked, smiling again at his uncle’s surprise. “She was all you talked about on the plane,” he added.
Donavan lit a cigar and didn’t look at the boy. He hadn’t realized that he’d been so transparent. He’d missed Fay, but he didn’t like admitting it even to himself. He’d been footloose all his life. Even if he married Fay for Jeff’s sake, he didn’t intend giving up his freedom.
“Aren’t you going to call her?” Jeff asked.
“No,” Donavan said, frowning. He did want to, but he wasn’t going to give in to his impulse. Better to start the way he meant to go on, and acting like a boy with a crush wasn’t going to keep him in control of his life.