by Diana Palmer
“No,” she replied. “Why?”
“Apparently Nina said some harsh things to her on my behalf,” he replied heavily. “I didn’t put her up to it, but Anna won’t know that.”
“It’s just as well, Evan,” Polly said seriously. “You and I both know that there’s no future in Anna wearing out her heart on you. She’ll get over you and marry Randall. It will be the best thing all around.”
“Randall is a playboy,” he said shortly.
“If Anna loves him, it won’t matter,” she said, refusing to admit that it might. “If he loves her, he’ll stop chasing other women.”
“Men like that don’t stop, ever,” he said with narrow eyes. “And you know it.”
She smiled sadly. “Randall wouldn’t be my first choice, either, Evan, but it’s Anna’s life. I have no right to interfere.”
He leaned back again and scowled, his expression preoccupied.
“What did you decide about the prospectus?” she asked again, hoping to change the subject.
“We’re going to invest,” he said absently. He named a figure and abandoned his fears about Anna’s future temporarily to finish discussing business.
But what she’d done bothered him. When he left Polly’s office, he found himself heading straight for Taylor’s Gallery.
Brand had gone to Houston for a show, leaving a nervous Anna in charge. She’d done well so far, and she was enjoying her work. But it was nerve-racking to have complete charge of the gallery by herself.
She looked lovely, Evan thought, watching her through the plate-glass window front before he entered the store. She was wearing a beige silk suit with a delicately embroidered white blouse, and her hair was in a neat French plait behind her head. She wore high heels that emphasized the graceful curve of her ankles and calves, and the fit of her suit made it apparent in the nicest of ways that she had an exquisite figure.
He opened the door and walked in, setting the bell tinkling.
Anna turned, a smile on her face that abruptly vanished when she saw him.
He felt a terrible emptiness at her expression. Always before, her eyes had brightened with gladness when she looked at him. Now it was more dread than delight that was mirrored in her blue eyes.
“Can I help you, Evan?” she asked with formal courtesy.
He moved into the gallery, glancing approvingly at the huge No Smoking sign on the wall. He stuffed his big hands into the pockets of his gray slacks and stared at her through narrowed dark eyes.
“Was it necessary to leave your mother shorthanded to avoid me?” he asked with blatant sarcasm, because her new attitude hurt him.
She lifted her delicately rounded chin to stare at him. “Since I didn’t do much there in the first place except wait for you to walk in, I’d hardly call her ‘left shorthanded.’”
He smiled faintly. “Is that why you’re here? You don’t think I have any interest in art?”
She finished dusting the frame she was holding and returned it to its position against the wall. “I don’t know what your interests are aside from making money, Evan,” she replied. “Did you want something?”
“I wanted to make sure Nina hadn’t hurt you.”
She turned, her eyebrows arching. “What difference would that make?” she asked.
He drew in a slow breath. “I didn’t send her to you with any messages,” he said.
“It would have served me right if you had, I guess,” she confessed quietly, dropping her gaze to the floor. “I’ve given you a hard time.”
The way she spoke made him uncomfortable. He moved closer, so that he could look down on her bright head. His hands came out of his pockets and gently framed her face to lift it to his. God, she was pretty, he thought reluctantly. Eyes like a September sky. Peaches and cream complexion. Bow lips, very pink and full and moist. Helplessly, his eyes traced them with such intensity that they parted abruptly.
“Anna,” he whispered gruffly.
Her eyes widened at his tone. She’d never heard him speak that way. His gaze was hot and glittery on her mouth, and his big, warm hands had contracted around her face, tilting it up to his. With awe, she watched his head bend and his mouth come within a whisper of her lips.
“Come close,” he said, his voice deep and rough. He could hear her breathing change, and all his caution vanished in a fierce rush of need. His thumbs forced her chin up as years of helpless longing knocked him off balance. “Damn it, come here!”
Trembling, her legs obeyed him even against her will, so that her slender body could feel the strength and heat of him. His suit jacket was open. His cologne drifted in to her nostrils even as she felt his chest quite suddenly against the thrust of her breasts. Contact with him was violently arousing, even through all the layers of cloth.
Her fingers pushed nervously into the soft folds of his cotton shirt and touched hard muscles. Her eyes saw nothing except the wide, hard curve of his mouth as it poised just over hers, his coffee-scented breath mingling with her own.
“Do you know how to kiss, Anna?” he asked, his head spinning with this new experience of her, his reason abruptly gone in the heat of his need for her mouth.
“Y-yes,” she breathed.
“Show me.”
The words went into her parted lips as his mouth suddenly crushed down over hers and took possession.
She tasted him in the sudden silence of the gallery, her body tensing, her breath stilling in her throat as she felt his hard mouth on hers for the very first time and almost fainted from the shock of pleasure its warm, expert touch gave her. He was breathing roughly. The sigh of his breath brushed her cheek. Against her breasts, his heartbeat was irregular and very hard.
Her fingers curled into his chest as she moved closer.
“Anna,” he moaned hungrily.
His arms slid around her and brought her breasts crushing against him. He was very strong, and the embrace was bruising. But Anna hardly noticed in the fever he was kindling along her veins.
She lifted closer, her arms sliding under his, under the jacket, to lie against his long back. He was warm, so warm, and the feel of his powerful body was narcotic. She fed on his mouth, moaning softly as its hard crush became more insistent. She pushed upward, opening her mouth for him. When she felt his tongue accept the blatant invitation, a rush of heat made her shudder in his arms.
Evan couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. This was Anna, he thought dazedly. Anna, who was too young for him. He’d pushed her away, and now he was encouraging her in the most blatant way. But he couldn’t fight his own hunger. His tongue thrust fiercely into her mouth, and with each intimate thrust he imagined her body under his in bed, accepting him with this same headlong passion, her femininity yielding its secrets to him as he initiated her into lovemaking.
With a harsh groan, he lifted her against him, building the kiss into a frenzy that he almost couldn’t stop in time.
Ages later he let her down again, and slowly, slowly lifted his head to look down into wide, dazed blue eyes below which her red, crushed mouth still trembled from his hot possession.
She could barely stand. He held her lightly around the waist to keep her from falling, and all the time his heartbeat sounded like a bass drum in his chest.
“You kissed me,” she managed unsteadily.
“You kissed me back,” he returned. His jaw clenched. He let his eyes run down her body to the opened jacket to her silk suit. Ruthlessly he moved one big hand forward to pull it aside, revealing the thrust of her breast and something more—the hard, taut nipple that signaled her arousal.
“Did you need to see…that I wanted you?” she asked tearfully. “Couldn’t you tell without looking?”
“Yes, I could tell.” He caught her by the waist and his hands contracted while he fought to get himself back under control. “You’re nineteen,” he began.
“And you’re thirty-four,” she said, swallowing as she managed to breathe properly again. “You don’t need to explain
anything to me, Evan, I know how you feel. You want me, but I’m not in the running.”
His eyes darkened. “Anna…”
“Nina’s more your style,” she said bitterly, pushing at his chest. “She’s experienced and sophisticated. I’ll bet she knows as much as you do!”
She was assuming that he was sleeping with Nina. He let her keep her illusions. It wouldn’t do to start making confessions now. He’d just done enough damage.
“Have you had a man yet?” he asked huskily.
She lowered her eyes, but he thrust a huge fist under her chin and made her look at him. “I said,” he repeated curtly, “have you had a man?”
His eyes were a little frightening. “Don’t you know?” she asked in a whisper.
She was trembling. His fist opened and he drew the backs of his fingers slowly down her arched throat and onto her soft breast, lingering while she tensed and stared at him.
“You haven’t,” he said with certainty. His eyes fell to his knuckles. He teased around the hard nipple, watching her body shiver and then slowly, helplessly, try to lift toward him.
“I hate you,” she whimpered.
His mouth eased down to brush hers open. “Say my name,” he breathed.
The nearness, the teasing, were impossible to resist, even if she really had hated him, and his hand was driving her crazy. “Evan,” she moaned, lifting.
His lips opened on hers even as his hand suddenly swallowed her breast, roughly caressing her in a silence that magnified her heartbeat and his harsh breathing.
Her nails bit into his shoulders, and he shivered with pleasure. His hand contracted. She moaned into his mouth, and he wrapped one long, powerful leg around her as he moved close enough to let her feel the force of his desire.
She bit him, so aroused that she hardly realized what she was doing until she felt him groan.
Shocked, she drew back, her eyes wide and startled. “I…I didn’t mean to do that,” she whispered brokenly. She tried to move away, but his leg was preventing her. She felt his blatant arousal and sucked her breath in again.
He had to fight to let her go, to unwrap his body from hers. His face was hard and faintly flushed, but his eyes were angry.
“What?” he asked unsteadily.
“I…I bit you.”
“And clawed me,” he murmured quietly. His lips twisted into an odd smile. “You’d rip my back open in bed with those nails.”
She gasped, and he suddenly realized not only what he was saying, but to whom he was saying it.
He shook his head, as if to clear it, and his brows jerked together. “Anna. For God’s sake…!”
“Yes, Anna,” she whispered brokenly, backing away from him. She was disheveled and wide-eyed, and shocked that she could have allowed him such liberties after the way he’d treated her. Not only allowed them, but encouraged and returned them. And in the shop, where anyone could see them! It was fortunate that the shop fronted a side street that wasn’t much traveled at this time of day. It was even more fortunate that a huge painting of a Texas landscape was positioned between them and the window front. “Is Nina starving you, or is this some kind of revenge?” she asked.
He could hardly breathe. She’d been with him all the way, as passionate and fiery as he could have dreamed a woman would be. Whatever he’d kindled in her hadn’t been fear. But she was nineteen, and it should never have happened.
“What do you think, honey?” he asked with faint insolence.
“I think you should go,” she said quietly.
He pulled his Stetson down over his eyes. “So do I. Good luck with your new job. I’ll give Nina your regards.”
She didn’t answer. He was out of sight and gone before she could stop trembling. If he wanted her out of his life, this was hardly the way to go about it, she thought blankly. She touched her mouth and tasted him there, shivering again with the ardor he’d aroused. Imagine being kissed like that in broad daylight, and by Evan, who didn’t want her. She remembered the feel of his big body against her and flushed. Well, so much for that myth.
She went to the back of the shop long enough to fix her makeup and brush her hair, wondering if she’d ever get over what he’d done. Trying to get over him had been difficult without knowing how it felt to be held and kissed by him. From now on, it would be impossible. His body might want her, but it was patently obvious that his mind didn’t. He’d probably just come to say goodbye, she kept telling herself. But why, she wondered for days afterward, had he kissed her?
Chapter 4
All the way back to the ranch Evan’s head was spinning. He’d never felt anything like that in his life, and it had to be with Anna, of all people! He groaned inwardly at the fever of passion he’d kindled in her so effortlessly; at her sweet, headlong response. In bed she would satisfy him so fully that he’d never be able to touch another woman as long as he lived. And that knowledge drove him crazy.
He had to remember the reasons he couldn’t—didn’t dare—let himself become involved with her. She was nineteen and a virgin. He knew instinctively that until today she’d never let a man touch her as he had. If she was really as besotted with him as everyone said she was, she’d probably been saving it all up for him, waiting for him to kiss her, to touch her. He hit the steering wheel with fierce anger at the trick fate had played on him. It was impossible! He was fifteen years her senior and a man to whom innocence was a kind of nightmare. He wanted her until she obsessed him, but he couldn’t have her. He could never have her.
Innocence frightened him. Louisa’s face had haunted him for years, white and rigid as he’d turned toward her after shedding his clothes. He’d thought she loved him, but she’d fought him like a tigress, screaming in terror that he was too big, too strong, he was hurting her…
He went into the house with his face like a thundercloud, his eyes blazing at the memory. Louisa had been small and thin, a fragile girl-woman whom Harden had always sworn had only tolerated his ardor because he was rich. He hadn’t believed it. Louisa had loved him, as he’d loved her. Her rejection had damaged him. Although he still had the infrequent lover, now his women were sophisticated and experienced. He’d never dated an innocent since Louisa.
Harden had reminded him that Anna was a big girl, and he had to admit that she was certainly equal to his ardor. He hadn’t hurt her today, and for a few seconds his strength had been unleashed when he’d forced her body into the curve of his. He couldn’t believe he’d done that, gone against all his resolutions and even been oblivious enough to show her graphically how much he wanted her. He laughed bitterly, remembering the shocked look on her face, in her eyes, when he’d let her go. She’d probably never felt a man’s aroused body in her life. Well, now she knew, he thought. He couldn’t really imagine her lukewarm Randall ever doing anything as bold as that. He wondered absently if Randall was even aroused by Anna, because he seemed oddly passive around her, hardly noticing her. Anna must surely know that all Randall was interested in was her mother’s money, but it didn’t seem to matter, because she kept seeing the man.
It was none of his business, he reminded himself. From now on he had to keep out of Anna’s way. He’d made a terrible error in judgment today, letting her see that he found her physically attractive. He’d have to find a way to make her believe it was a fluke, or he’d have her chasing him all over again. He couldn’t afford that. The temptation to let her catch him was much too alluring.
There was a conference in Denver on a new crossbreeding program, and he packed a bag and left his brothers Donald and Harden in charge. The change of scenery might do him good. He might even meet some classy lady in Denver who could take his mind off Anna.
He didn’t know it, but Anna had already decided that he was getting even with her for ignoring him, playing on her weakness for him. She flushed, remembering how quickly his body had responded to hers. It should have shocked her, but she remembered only the delight of knowing she affected him. Could he have faked that? She
knew men could get aroused by thinking about women they desired. What if he’d had the delectable Nina on his mind and had used Anna to assuage his hunger for her?
She was so confused that she didn’t know how to react. She didn’t delude herself for a minute with thoughts that her avoidance of him had triggered those ardent kisses. He’d been so…so hateful, mocking her reactions! Almost as if he was punishing himself and her for his unexpected behavior. If only she knew what had motivated him. If only it had been because he missed her, because he cared. She could have cried at her own stupidity. He hadn’t even treated her as if he respected her. Touching her that way, holding her close enough to be shocked by the vivid response of his body. Surely a man who cared about a woman wouldn’t treat her like…that!
“You’re very quiet lately,” Polly remarked several evenings later when they were sharing a quiet supper. “Want to talk about it?”
“There’s nothing, really,” Anna said, forcing a smile. “I’ve been working very hard. Mr. Taylor said that if I’d like to do a couple of landscapes, he’ll even put them in the shop. He thinks I have a talent worth developing.”
“I’ve always thought that myself,” Polly said encouragingly. She grimaced. “Although Randall didn’t seem too enthusiastic about your sunflowers. He barely even looked at them, and after all the trouble I went to, having them properly matted and framed.”
“Randall isn’t an art lover,” Anna said, defending him wanly. “He isn’t musical, either.”
“And you do love your classics, don’t you, darling?” Polly sighed, frowning. “Anna, I don’t like to interfere, but you’re seeing a lot of Randall lately. Two dates this week. It isn’t because of Evan, is it?”
Anna started, her face coloring. “What do you mean?”
Polly’s eyes narrowed shrewdly on her daughter’s face. “Evan must have hurt you very badly at that party. But don’t let hurt pride send you running to the first man who shows an interest, will you? Randall’s a fine man, but he has an eye to the main chance and he’s something of a playboy.”