by Diana Palmer
His face relaxed. “No harm done.” And then he moved. One long, powerful arm slid behind her, bringing his lips within an inch of hers. She almost moaned at the minty warmth of his breath on her mouth. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, curiously tracing every hard line of the thin upper lip and the more chiseled lower one. Her heart throbbed. Her breath seemed to stop altogether, and for one long instant she felt the full weight of his chest against her soft breasts in a contact that was shocking. She looked up at him with wide, stunned eyes.
Then he moved back, the hat he’d been reaching for in one hand, his eyes frankly amused at the look on her face. So she’d never thought of him that way, had she? It irritated him to think that she didn’t feel the new and very unwelcome attraction he was discovering for her. It was just as well that he had a business function tonight; it would keep his overimaginative brain away from Abby.
“Were you expecting something?” he asked coldly. “I just wanted my hat.” He watched a shadow pass across her eyes before she mumbled something and lowered her gaze. He put his Stetson on his thick blonde-streaked hair and tilted it over one eye. “I hired you to work here, not to send out signals, intentional or otherwise, to clients.”
“I hate you,” she said suddenly, sick of his accusations and his hateful remarks.
“Sure you do. What else is new?” He tapped her chin with a long finger. “Get busy.”
While she was still struggling with her composure he opened the door and went out without a backward glance.
Abby hardly got anything done for the next hour. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt so turned around, so confused. She was sure she hated Calhoun, but in an hour he’d be back, smiling, and then she’d forgive him. That was what made her so miserable, the knowledge that he could commit murder and she’d still love him. Damn this hateful attraction!
She took a half-hour break and went to the canteen and had a sandwich that she didn’t taste. She was barely back at her desk when Mr. Myers returned—with Justin instead of Calhoun.
She handed the progress reports to Justin, who herded Mr. Myers into his brother’s office, kept him there a scant ten minutes and then herded him out again. Abby kept her head down and didn’t even say hello. That was just as well, because Mr. Myers didn’t look in her direction.
Justin gave Abby a curious look afterward. “That’s unusual,” he remarked. “Calhoun called me out of a board meeting to have lunch and talk over that contract with Myers. Then he waltzed off and left me there. What’s going on?”
Abby cleared her throat. “Why, Justin, I have no idea,” she said, even managing a smile. Justin lifted an eyebrow, shrugged and went back into Calhoun’s office without another word. Abby stared after him, curious herself about Calhoun’s behavior. Then it occurred to her that maybe he just didn’t like Greg Myers, which led to the unpalatable thought that perhaps they’d fallen out over a woman. Maybe one of Myers’s mistresses…She turned back to her typewriter. She hated even thinking about that side of Calhoun’s life.
Justin was quiet for the rest of the afternoon, but he had plenty to say when Calhoun came in just before quitting time. The door was half-open, and Abby, who was the last of the office group to leave, got an earful as she was straightening up her desk.
“This has got to stop,” Justin was telling his brother. “One of the office girls told me that Myers got friendly with Abby just before you cleared out. It’s gotten to the point that Abby can’t even smile at a man without having you come down on her head like Judgment. She’s almost twenty-one. It isn’t fair to expect her to live like a recluse.”
“I wasn’t,” Calhoun said curtly. “I just warned her off him. My God, you know his reputation!”
“Abby’s no fool,” came the reply. “She’s a levelheaded person.”
“Sure, she’s proved that,” Calhoun said with biting sarcasm. “Going to a strip show—”
“It was not!” Abby called through the open door. “It was a male variety show.”
“My God, she’s standing out there listening!” Calhoun jerked the door all the way open, glaring at her. “Stop eavesdropping! It isn’t polite!”
“Stop talking about me behind my back, then,” she returned, picking up her purse. “I wouldn’t have gone out with a man like Grey Myers even to spite you, Calhoun. I know a line when I hear one.”
Calhoun glared at her. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea, your working here.”
Her eyebrows went up. “Really? Why?”
“The place is full of men,” Calhoun muttered, and Justin had to smother a grin.
Abby lifted her eyebrows and smiled. “Why, so it is,” she gushed. “Lovely, unshaven men who smell of cattle and cow chips. Sooo romantic,” she sighed.
Justin had turned away. Calhoun’s dark eyes were glittering.
“Myers didn’t smell of cow chips,” he reminded her.
She arched her eyebrows at him. “How interesting that you noticed,” she said in a theatrical whisper.
He looked as if he might throw something at her. “Will you cut that out?” he muttered.
She sighed. “Suit yourself. I was just trying to help. God forbid that I should be seduced by some strange, sweet-smelling man.”
“Go home!” Calhoun roared.
“My, my, what a nasty temper we’re in,” she said demurely. She reached for her purse, glancing back at him. “I’ll have Maria make you a nice bowl of razor-blade soup, just to keep your tongue sharp.”
“I won’t be home for supper, thank God,” Calhoun said coldly. “I’ve got a date,” he added, for no other reason than to irritate her. He didn’t like the idea of her knowing how much Myers’s flirting had upset him. He didn’t want her to know that he’d been so violently jealous that he couldn’t even trust himself to have lunch with the man and had had to call Justin to intervene.
But Abby didn’t know that, and she was sure that it was just Calhoun being overprotective as usual. It hurt her to hear about where he was going. Abby felt as if she were being choked to death. If only she were beautiful and blond, if only she could cope! But she managed to hide her emptiness. “That’s great, Calhoun, you just enjoy yourself while I sit home alone. I’ll never get a date as long as you’re two steps behind me.”
“Dream on,” Calhoun told her. “Hell will freeze over before you’d go out with a man like that.”
“There’s a little town called Hell, you know,” Abby told him. “It does snow there….”
“If I were you I’d go home, Abby,” Justin said, eyeing his brother. “It’s Friday night. You might find a nice movie to watch. Come to think of it, I just bought a new war movie. You can watch it with me if you want to.”
She smiled. Justin really was nice. “Thanks. I might do that, since my watchdog doesn’t want me out after dark,” she added with a glare at Calhoun. “I’ll bet Elizabeth the First had a guardian just like you!”
Justin caught Calhoun’s arm in the nick of time, and Abby took off running, her heart in her throat. It was odd how Calhoun, usually so easygoing, had turned explosive lately. She did goad him, of course, but she couldn’t help it. Fighting him was the only way she could stay sane and hide her feelings for him. If she ever started batting her eyelashes and sighing over him, he’d probably shoot her off the place like a bullet.
She started her car and drove home, all the fury dying into misery as she left the feedlot behind. What good was pretending? Her heart was broken, because Calhoun was going out with one of his women and she didn’t qualify for that title. She never would. She’d grow old with Calhoun patting her on the head. Once or twice she’d almost thought he felt something for her, that he’d begun to notice her. But if he had, he certainly wouldn’t be running all over the place with other women. And he wouldn’t ignore Abby unless she started a fight or got into trouble. She was his responsibility, of course. His headache. To him she was anything but a warm, attractive woman whom he might love eventually. That she’d never be.
By the time she got to the house, she felt sick all over, but a plan was beginning to form in her mind. If Calhoun thought she was giving in that easily, he was in for a shock. She could have a good time, too, even if she didn’t have a date. By golly, she’d get out and find herself one!
Chapter Three
Abby ate a solitary meal. Justin was called to the phone shortly after they got home, and he told Maria to put his dinner on a tray so he could eat it while he watched the movie he’d bought. Calhoun had come home to change for his date, and Abby had made a beeline for her room and stayed there until after he’d left. She didn’t even care how it looked; she was sick at the thought of Calhoun with some faceless blonde. That was when she knew she had to break out, even if just for the evening.
She hadn’t started out to rebel. But she couldn’t sit home and watch the movie with Justin. She’d never hear a word of it; she’d just brood about Calhoun.
So she got dressed in slacks and a blouse and brushed her hair. Then she called Misty.
“How do you feel about helping me rebel?” she asked the older girl.
Misty laughed huskily. “You’re lucky my date canceled out. Okay. I’m game. What are we rebelling against?”
“Calhoun caught me at the revue last night and dragged me home,” Abby told her. “And today he…Well, never mind, but he set me off again. So tonight I thought I’d like to sample that new dance bar in Jacobsville.”
“Now that is an idea worthy of you, Abby. I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll be ready.”
Abby ran downstairs, giving no thought at all to how Calhoun was going to react to this latest rebellion. Well, he had his woman, damn him. Horrible pictures of his bronzed body in bed with the faceless blonde danced in front of Abby’s eyes. No, she told herself, she wasn’t going to let Calhoun’s actions hurt her like that. She was going to get out and live!
She poked her head into the living room. Cigarette smoke drifted in front of a screen on which men in uniforms were blowing each other up.
“I’m going out with Misty,” she told Justin.
He glanced up from where he was sitting. His long legs were crossed over the coffee table, and he had a snifter of brandy in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “Okay, honey,” he said agreeably. “Stay out of trouble, will you? You and Calhoun are hell on the digestion lately, and he doesn’t seem to need much excuse to go for your throat.”
“I’ll behave. Misty and I are just going to that new dance place. I’ll be good, honest I will. Good night.”
“Good night.”
He went back to the bullets and bombs, and she closed the door with a sigh. Justin was so nice. He never tried to hog-tie her. Now why couldn’t Calhoun be like that? She felt murderous when she considered Calhoun’s possessiveness. She was entitled to a life that didn’t revolve around him. There was just no sense in wearing her heart out on his taciturn indifference. None at all!
Misty came ten minutes later. Thank God, Calhoun didn’t reappear. With a sigh of relief, Abby ran out to Misty’s little sports car, all smiles, her breaking heart carefully concealed from her all-too-perceptive girlfriend.
It was Friday night, and the Jacobsville Dance Palace was booming. It had a live Western band on the weekends, and while it did serve hard liquor, it wasn’t the kind of dive Calhoun had forbidden her to frequent. Not that she cared one whit about his strictures, of course.
Abby glanced apprehensively toward the doorway, across the crowded room where cigar and cigarette smoke made a gray haze under bright lights. The band’s rhythm shook the rafters. Couples danced on the bare wood floor, the men in Western gear, the women in jeans and boots.
“Calhoun won’t know you’re here, I tell you.” Misty laughed softly. “Honestly, it’s ridiculous the way he dogs your footsteps lately.”
“That’s what I keep telling him, but it does no good at all,” Abby replied miserably. “I just want to get out on my own.”
“I’m doing my best,” Misty assured her. “Any day now I’ll have some new apartment prospects for us to look at. I’ve got a real estate agent helping.”
“Good.” Abby sipped her drink, trying not to notice the blatant stare she was getting from the man at the next table. He’d been eyeing her ever since she and Misty had walked in, and he was giving her the willies. He looked about Calhoun’s age, but he lacked Calhoun’s attractive masculinity. This man was dark headed and had a beer belly. He wasn’t much taller than Abby, but what he lacked in height he made up in girth. He had a cowboy hat pulled low over his small eyes, and he was obviously intoxicated.
“He’s staring at me again,” Abby muttered. She lifted her gin and tonic to her lips, wondering at how much better it tasted every time she took a sip. She hated gin, but Misty had convinced her that she couldn’t sit at the table drinking ginger ale.
“Don’t worry,” Misty patted her arm. “He’ll give up and go away. There’s Tyler! Hi, Ty!”
Tyler Jacobs was tall and rangy-looking. He had green eyes and an arrogant smile, and Abby was a little afraid of him. But he didn’t carry his wealth around on his shoulders as some rich men did, and he wasn’t a snob, even though the town of Jacobsville took its name from his grandfather.
“Hello, Misty. Abby.” Tyler pulled out a chair and straddled it. “What are you doing here? Does Calhoun know?” he asked quietly.
Abby shifted restlessly in the chair and raised her glass to her lips again. “I am perfectly capable of drinking a drink if I want to,” she said, enunciating carefully because her tongue suddenly felt thick. “And Calhoun doesn’t own me.”
“Oh, my God,” Tyler sighed. He gave Misty a rueful glance. “Your doing, I gather?”
Misty blinked her long false lashes at Tyler, and her blue eyes twinkled. “I provided transportation, that’s all. Abby is my friend. I’m helping her to rebel.”
“You’ll help get her killed if you aren’t careful. Where’s Calhoun?” he asked Abby.
“Out with one of his harem,” she said with a mocking smile. “Not that I mind, as long as he’s out of my hair for the evening,” she added carelessly.
“He dragged her out of line at the male revue last night at the Jacobsville theater,” Misty explained. “We’re getting even.”
Tyler’s eyes widened. “You tried to see a male strip show? Abby!”
Abby glared at him. “Where else do you expect me to get educated? Calhoun wants me to wear diapers for the rest of my life. He doesn’t think I’m old enough to go on dates or walk across the street alone.”
“You’re like a kid sister to him,” Tyler said, defending his friend. “He doesn’t want you to get hurt.”
“I can get hurt if I like,” Abby grumbled. Her eyes closed. She was feeling worse by the second, but she couldn’t let on. Tyler was as bad as the Ballenger brothers. He’d have her out of here like a shot if he thought she was sick.
“What are you drinking?” Tyler asked, staring at her glass.
“Gin and tonic,” she replied, opening her eyes. “Want some?”
“I don’t drink, honey,” Tyler reminded her with a slow smile. “Well, I’ve got to pick up Shelby at the office. She had to work late tonight. Watch out for Abby, Misty.”
“Of course I will. Sure you won’t stay and dance with me?” Misty asked.
Tyler got up, his eyes worried as they trailed over Abby’s wan face. “Sorry. I don’t usually have to get Shelby, but her car was in the shop today and they didn’t finish with it.”
“Lucky Shelby, to have a brother like you,” Abby mumbled. “I’ll bet you don’t have a kamikaze pilot fly behind her when she goes to work, or a gang of prizefighters to walk her home after dark, or a whole crew of off-duty policemen to fend off her suitors….”
“Oh, boy,” Tyler sighed.
“Don’t worry,” Misty told him. “She’s fine. She’s just miffed at Calhoun, that’s all. Although how anybody could get upset at a dishy man like that be
ing so protective—”
“Dishy isn’t a word I’d use to describe Calhoun if he finds Abby like that and thinks you’re responsible for it,” Tyler cautioned. “Have you ever seen him get angry?”
Misty pushed back her curly hair uncomfortably. “Justin’s temper is worse,” she reminded him.
Tyler lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t be so sure. They’re cut from the same cloth.” He touched Abby’s shoulder. “Don’t drink any more of that.” He gestured toward her drink.
“Whatever you say, Ty,” Abby said, smiling. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
He waved and left them there.
“I wonder what he was doing here,” Misty said, puzzled. “Since he doesn’t drink.”
“He may have been looking for somebody,” Abby murmured. “I guess a lot of cattlemen congregate around here on the weekends. This stuff is pretty good, Misty,” she added, taking another sip.
“You promised you wouldn’t,” she was reminded.
“I hate men,” Abby said. “I hate all men. But especially I hate Calhoun.”
Misty chewed her lower lip worriedly. Abby was starting to tie one on, and that wasn’t at all what Misty had had in mind. “I’ll be back in a minute, honey,” she promised, and got up to go after Ty. She had a feeling she was going to need his help to get Abby to the car, and now was the time to do it.
The minute she left, the burly, intoxicated man who’d been watching Abby for the past hour seized his opportunity. He sat down next to her, his small, pale eyes running hungrily over her.
“Alone at last,” he drawled. “My gosh, you’re a pretty thing. I’m Tom. I live alone and I’m looking for a woman who can cook and clean and make love. How about coming home with me?”
Abby gaped at him. “I don’t think I heard you?”
“If you’re here with a girlfriend, you’ve got to be out looking for it, honey.” He laughed drunkenly. “And I can sure give it to you. So how about it?” He put his pudgy-fingered hand on her arm and began to caress it. “Nice. Come here and give old Tom a kiss….”