by Susan Fox
Caitlin was lost that very moment and her hands slid up the sleeves of his suit jacket to his shoulders. Emotion flooded up, love and longing surged through her as she returned his kiss.
Suddenly Reno shifted and he swept her into his arms. His lips parted hers and his tongue pressed inside for a long unhurried taste before it retreated, sending a jolt of sensuality through her that made her weak. And then he was walking through the darkened house.
She was floating on an ocean of warm sensation. She was dimly aware that Reno had started up the staircase. Startled, she tore her mouth from his and pressed it against his hard shoulder. Reno continued effortlessly up the stairs and the steady rhythm of his boots on the upstairs hall made her shiver with anticipation.
Sanity was a distant concept. What could it hurt now if they became intimate? She’d already lost her heart to Reno. There’d never really been a question. She loved him now because she’d always loved him. The sad truth was that she always would.
By the time Reno carried her into her room, the inevitability of what would happen between them impacted her, distracting her from her fears. By next week, next month, or next year, she’d be alone, and she and Reno would again be estranged. That lingering fear, that terrible certainty, went too deep for her to ignore or discount.
But what would it really hurt to have this one time with Reno, and maybe another, then another? As terrified as she was to let him that close, something broken and lost in her suddenly needed to survive, needed to make that deep physical and emotional connection to another human being, to Reno. The need was clamoring too loudly and too insistently for her to silence it.
Reno strode across the floor to her bed. He braced a knee on the mattress and laid her across the bedspread. His big body followed her down and his mouth found hers again for a long, feverish kiss.
The hot pulse in her throat was choking her, stifling the last of her fears, the last of her resistance. The pulse spread through her blood, heating it and sending it faster and faster through her veins.
Reno’s fingers swiftly dispatched the buttons of her blouse and slipped inside. He encountered the lace of her bra and groaned with masculine frustration before he expertly unhooked it. And then his big hand covered her breast. His tongue pressed past her lips and Caitlin could only cling to him and return what his mouth did to hers.
She was drowning in sensation and love. It was at just the moment Caitlin thought she would faint that Reno dragged his hand from her breast and braced it beside her. His mouth increased its demand those next seconds, until he began to ease its pressure.
What followed were several drugging moments as his lips lavished hers with unhurried passion. Eventually, his mouth left hers and he slid down until his lips found her breast. Caitlin speared her fingers greedily into his thick hair and gasped raggedly at the new intimacy.
Too soon, Reno turned his head and rested his rough cheek against her hot skin. They were both shaking with the force of desire, but Reno established his dominance by reclaiming control of them both. He recovered far more quickly than she could, and lifted his head to loom over her in the darkness.
“You belong to me, Caitlin Bodine. You belong with me.” He lowered his head to place a soft, lingering kiss on her lips. “And if I don’t leave this bed right now, we’re gonna find more proof.” He stopped teasing her lips with his to add, “Unless you need more proof.”
Caitlin knew what he was asking. The need to go the whole way, the compulsion to connect as deeply and completely with Reno as it was possible for a man and a woman to be connected was overwhelming in those next wild heartbeats of time.
But if they made love now, Caitlin truly would belong to Reno. Completely. If they made love now, she’d lose her last choice and would commit herself to him so deeply she would never be the same.
The awful truth was that she was still terrified to give herself to him. If he hadn’t stopped just now... Suddenly, she wasn’t ready to find out how quickly his lust would cool once he could have her, or how quickly what he felt for her would ebb.
He’d only used the word “want,” had only said she “belonged” to him, belonged with him. He hadn’t used the word love, hadn’t made any emotional declarations or pledged any permanent vows. He’d only used possessive terms and, if she was smart, she’d not read anything too significant or lasting into them.
Her whispered “I don’t need more proof,” was devastatingly true. But she wasn’t only talking about belonging to him, she was also talking about the painful lessons she’d learned long before this.
It hurt when he eventually stopped his long, slow kisses. It hurt even more when he eased himself off her, then off the bed.
Caitlin lay limply, feeling the chill that gusted over her without the heat of his body against hers. He left the room then, closing the door softly on his way out.
The next morning, Caitlin woke at sunrise, but stayed in her room until she was certain Reno had finished breakfast and left the house for the morning. He would naturally think that the day before had been tiring for her, and that their late night was something she needed to rest up from.
Every insecurity she’d ever had was making itself felt, every fear, every worry, every doubt had been stirred up. Her heart was heavy, and the sadness she felt was the worst of her life.
If it was this bad now, what would it have been like if she’d made love with Reno last night? The question pounded at her. And how much worse would it be if they’d made love, and she was sitting here now, believing that the countdown to Reno’s fading interest had begun?
The treachery of her own heart made her feel ill. She’d been so close to giving herself to Reno last night, her heart had all but talked her into it. The moment she was in his arms and he was kissing her, she’d not been able to think straight. If Reno hadn’t eased away and taken control...
The feeling that she had to leave the Broken B—to leave Texas—had never been as strong as it was that moment.
She showered and dressed for the day, then went downstairs for breakfast. Her appetite was gone again, and after Mary left the kitchen, she finally gave up and carried her plate and silverware to the sink to rinse them.
Reno came into the kitchen from the back door and walked directly to where she stood facing the counter. He pulled off his Stetson and tossed it next to the sink. His hands slid around her from behind and he pressed against her, the combination of his male heat and the heat of his sun-warmed clothes pleasantly scorched her back from her shoulders down. Caitlin’s hands automatically lifted to rest over the backs of his.
Reno’s lips found the side of her neck and nibbled gently. “I need to go to San Antonio for a couple of days,” he said against her skin, then pressed an open kiss there. His hands moved up from her waist and covered her breasts. Caitlin gripped his wrists, her legs suddenly too weak to stand. “Come with me.”
The gruff invitation landed heavily on her confused emotions. As if he sensed something was wrong, Reno lifted his mouth from her neck and nestled his cheek against hers. “You’re shaking, Caitlin. And I bet you’re having second thoughts about last night—” his hands moved from her breasts and he wrapped his arms tightly around her “—and what it all means.”
His perception was a tremendous relief, and she nodded. He made a low growling sound. “Then come to San Antonio with me.” He turned his head and pressed his lips against her flushed cheek. “You’ve only been to my place a couple times. Besides which, something tells me I should keep an eye on you.”
The words made her freeze. “Maybe a few days away from each other would be better.”
“Better than what?” he challenged softly. “Better than facing what you feel and starting to trust me?”
Caitlin shook her head. “I know what I feel.”
“But you can’t trust me.” It was a statement. She heard the hint of impatience behind the words.
“Nothing lasts.” Her voice was a strangled whisper and she bit her lip i
n silent punishment for giving so much away.
Reno’s arms tightened gently. “That’s right, baby, nothing lasts. Nothing that isn’t respected or taken care of or encouraged lasts.”
He gave her a few moments for his words to sink in. When she said nothing, he changed the subject.
“If I leave you here for a couple days, will you promise to be here when I get back?”
He was asking a lot. She started to shake her head, but stopped. “I’m not sure.”
“I need more than that, Caitlin. I don’t plan to lose you, and I damned sure don’t want you to disappear from my life.” He eased away and turned her toward him. “Unless you don’t feel anything for me.”
The grim look he was giving her made it impossible for her to evade him. But she couldn’t tell him she loved him. Not when he only “wanted” her. “I do...feel something for you,” she admitted. Reno’s eyes narrowed on her flushed face.
“But maybe not enough.”
She could barely maintain eye contact with the intense gleam in his eyes. She felt as if he could read her every thought and had guessed her every secret. She shook her head. “It’s not that.”
“Isn’t it?” His thumbs rubbed slow gentle circles on her upper arms. “I reckon I can’t force you to stay. I meant it when I said I was giving everything to you. If I have to hire someone to run it for you because you don’t want to be here, it’ll have to come out of the profits.”
His hands relaxed and fell away. He reached for his Stetson and eased back a step. His expression was utterly blank, but his blue eyes burned with tightly repressed frustration.
“If you’ll provide me with a mailing address, I’ll let you know how the transfer comes out,” he said, his voice flat and all business. “If you’re not interested in the responsibility, everything can be liquidated.”
Caitlin nodded. Reno’s sudden distance caught her by surprise. The granite set of his features reminded her of when he’d hated her. She needed no more than seeing that to realize how quickly he’d given up on her. If what he felt for her had ever had a chance of becoming something special to him or of lasting, he wouldn’t have been so easily turned away. He was too used to making the world bend to his will to suddenly back off.
Instead, it was proof of what she’d feared, that Reno’s interest in her was too shallow and too temporary for her to risk her heart on.
Her quiet “Have a safe trip,” was all she could manage.
Reno’s gaze was steady on her face a few moments more before it slid down over her. “I need a few things from upstairs, then I’ll go.”
Caitlin made herself glance away as he reached for his Stetson. Reno took that opportunity to leave the kitchen for the back hall. She leaned weakly against the counter behind her and listened to his boot steps go down the hall then up the back stairs.
Later, he came down the front staircase and went out the front door to where he’d left his car parked the night before.
Caitlin turned toward the sink and gripped the counter as longing and regret started their inevitable war.
Caitlin passed those next two days at the Broken B. She spent more and more time outdoors. She even resumed riding, though she rode much longer and at a swifter pace than her doctor had given her permission to do.
And she missed Reno. The memory of every moment she’d spent with him since she’d returned to Texas made a circuit through her mind. She weighed his every look, his every word to her, everything he’d done. She eventually came to the conclusion that Reno’s good character was too ingrained and too strong for him to switch loyalty easily.
She’d always believed him to be a man just like her father—stern, remote and unattainable. Yet now she couldn’t pinpoint many qualities the two men had in common. She couldn’t imagine Reno Duvall mistreating a child, whether it was his own or not. And his manhood wasn’t so fragile that he’d crave only sons or resent a child for being born a female.
And Reno was surprisingly perceptive. Her father had never been sensitive enough to the feelings of others to care, much less recognize them or figure them out. The two men didn’t value the same things. Reno valued good morals and responsible behavior; her father had valued daring and a spit-in-your-eye flaunting of the rules he disagreed with.
Besides which Reno, once he was convinced that he was wrong about her, had enough good character to change his mind and show remorse. He’d changed his mind and changed his behavior. Something Jess Bodine could never have done for anyone, because he’d believed he was never wrong and that everyone else had to change to accommodate him.
The two days Reno meant to spend in San Antonio ended up being a full week, then more. He called her a few times to let her know about the delays—and probably to see if she was still at the Broken B—but their conversations were stilted and awkward. Caitlin was disheartened by them.
Meanwhile, Jess’s lawyer had called the ranch for Reno, but Mary had directed him to call the Duvall Ranch. When Mary told her about the call, Caitlin figured the results of the blood test had come back. She was no more than mildly interested in how it had turned out.
Because Reno stayed away so long, Caitlin’s cast came off and her headaches became only occasional. By the end of Reno’s second week away from the Broken B, Caitlin’s hope reached its lowest point.
CHAPTER TEN
CAITLIN was walking back to the ranch house one afternoon when she saw Madison St. John’s black Cadillac pulling away from the house. Surprise and curiosity made her hurry to the back door. She found Mary in the living room, but her gaze went immediately to the huge flat package wrapped in brown paper that was leaning against the wall.
“Miss St. John’s driver brought this by, Miss Bodine,” Mary told her. “He said it was a portrait that Miss St. John found in the attic.”
Caitlin walked directly to the covered frame. It could only be the portrait of her mother. She glanced toward the wide tall wall over the fireplace, and had a dim memory of long ago when a painting of her mother had hung there. The Civil War era swords that were now crossed over the space had been there since just after her mother’s death.
Caitlin looked back toward the carefully wrapped frame and put out her hands to reverently touch the top of it. A sweet feeling of nostalgia tingled over her and she hooked a finger under the tapes that held the paper and pulled. Taking care with the task, Caitlin unwrapped the portrait, not allowing herself to look at the image until she dragged the last of the heavy paper away and stepped back.
“Why, it’s you, Miss Caitlin.” Mary’s hushed exclamation echoed Caitlin’s own first impression of the woman.
Against the backdrop of a field of bluebonnets and a stormy Texas sky, was a full-length pose of a proud, statuesque woman dressed in a white, long-sleeved blouse, ruffled at the V neckline and cuffs, with a blue-black divided riding skirt that ended midcalf over her black boots. The woman had straight sable hair that she wore long and loose. A few wayward strands appeared to dance in the artist’s suggestion of a light breeze. She carried a black Stetson in one slim hand while she held a few stalks of vivid bluebonnets in the other.
She could have been a woman from any period of Texas history, and her beauty was breathtaking. Her hip-length hair was magnificent, but her face was lovely, with a sweet expression that Caitlin suddenly remembered with poignant clarity. Elaina Chandler Bodine’s eyes were an electric blue, and her gaze was direct, yet oddly melancholy and wise beyond her years.
Caitlin stared into her mother’s eyes and had the peculiar sensation that her mother was staring into hers. For the first time in fifteen years she was seeing her mother’s likeness and it shocked her to realize how closely they resembled each other.
Memories of her mother surged back. Caitlin raised her hands to her lips and pressed hard, as if she could hold back the emotions she felt.
“Should we hang it, Miss Bodine?” Mary’s soft-voiced interruption distracted her, and she nodded, but said, “Would you mind if I...hav
e a few moments?”
Mary understood instantly and left her alone. Caitlin stepped back to a chair and shakily sat down, never taking her eyes from the portrait as she let this first long look take her back to her childhood and the bittersweet memories she had of her mother.
Caitlin and Mary hung Elaina Bodine’s portrait in its old position of honor over the fireplace. The deep, moody colors of the oils lent a dramatic beauty to the room. Caitlin found herself drawn to the portrait, and that first day, she spent nearly all of her time in the living room, staring at her mother’s image, remembering her.
Profoundly touched by her cousin’s response to her request weeks ago for pictures of her mother, she gave Maddie a call the moment the portrait was hung. But Madison wasn’t taking calls, so Caitlin left a message of thanks. She went to the den for paper and penned a more extensive thank-you, but was careful to keep it simple and straightforward. Madison couldn’t have made it clearer that she wanted nothing personal to do with her, and Caitlin couldn’t help the disappointment she felt.
Caitlin was drawn back to the living room and her mother’s portrait. She was so emotional over its return that the unanswered questions about Elaina plagued her.
Had her mother been unfaithful to Jess? In lieu of the blood test results, the only way she could find out was to ask someone who might know. Lucky immediately came to mind. He’d been around all those years ago. He’d told her at the visitation that her father had no reason to doubt Elaina’s fidelity, but how did he know? Perhaps he could tell her something.
She called the bunkhouse just after supper and invited Lucky to the main house. Lucky walked into the living room, hat in hand. His attention went instantly to Elaina’s portrait, and Caitlin saw him abruptly go still. Neither of them spoke as the cowboy stared at the likeness. Caitlin tried to read the expression in the old man’s eyes. Surprise, admiration, sadness...