by Diana Palmer
“I don’t know. I tried to sing here a couple of times, and my voice seems to be good enough. No more lapses. But in front of a crowd…” She spread her hands. “I don’t know, Hank.”
“Here.” He handed her three tickets to the benefit. “You think about it. If you can, come on up. Sutton might like the singers even if he doesn’t care for our kind of music.” He studied her. “You haven’t told him, have you?”
She shook her head, smiling wistfully. “Haven’t found the right way yet. If I leave it much longer, it may be too late.”
“The girl’s family sent you a letter,” he said. “Thanking you for what you tried to do. They said you were her heroine…aw, now, Mandy, stop it!”
She collapsed in tears. He held her, rocking her, his face red with mingled embarrassment and guilt.
“Mandy, come on, stop that,” he muttered. “It’s all over and done with. You’ve got to get yourself together. You can’t hide out here in the Tetons for the rest of your life.”
“Can’t I?” she wailed.
“No, you can’t. Hiding isn’t your style. You have to face the stage again, or you’ll never get over it.” He tilted her wet face. “Look, would you want somebody eating her guts out over you if you’d been Wendy that night? It wasn’t your fault, damn it! It wasn’t anybody’s fault; it was an accident, pure and simple.”
“If she hadn’t been at the concert…”
“If, if, if,” he said curtly. “You can’t go back and change things to suit you. It was her time. At the concert, on a plane, in a car, however, it would still have been her time. Are you listening to me, Mandy?”
She dabbed her eyes with the hem of her blouse. “Yes, I’m listening.”
“Come on, girl. Buck up. You can get over this if you set your mind to it. Me and the guys miss you, Mandy. It’s not the same with just the four of us. People are scared of us when you aren’t around.”
That made her smile. “I guess they are. You do look scruffy, Hank,” she murmured.
“You ought to see Johnson.” He sighed. “He’s let his beard go and he looks like a scrub brush. And Deke says he won’t change clothes until you come back.”
“Oh, my God,” Amanda said, shuddering, “tell him I’ll think hard about this concert, okay? You poor guys. Stay upwind of him.”
“We’re trying.” He got up, smiling down at her. “Everything’s okay. You can see the letter when you come to the lodge. It’s real nice. Now stop beating yourself. Nobody else blames you. After all, babe, you risked your life trying to save her. Nobody’s forgotten that, either.”
She leaned against him for a minute, drawing on his strength. “Thanks, Hank.”
“Anytime. Hey, kid, you still want that autograph?” he asked.
Elliot came back into the room with a pad and pen. “Do I!” he said, chuckling.
Hank scribbled his name and Desperado’s curly-Q logo underneath. “There you go.”
“He’s a budding musician,” Amanda said, putting an arm around Elliot. “I’m teaching him the keyboard. One of these days, if we can get around Quinn, we’ll have him playing backup for me.”
“You bet.” Hank chuckled, and ruffled Elliot’s red hair. “Keep at it. Mandy’s the very best. If she teaches you, you’re taught.”
“Thanks, Mr. Shoeman.”
“Just Hank. See you at the concert. So long, Mandy.”
“So long, pal.”
“What concert?” Elliot asked excitedly when Hank had driven away.
Amanda handed him the three tickets. “To a benefit in Jackson Hole. The group’s going to play there. Maybe. If I can get up enough nerve to get back onstage again.”
“What happened, Amanda?” he asked gently.
She searched his face, seeing compassion along with the curiosity, so she told him, fighting tears all the way.
“Gosh, no wonder you came up here to get away,” Elliot said with more than his twelve years worth of wisdom. He shrugged. “But like he said, you have to go back someday. The longer you wait, the harder it’s going to be.”
“I know that,” she groaned. “But Elliot, I…” She took a deep breath and looked down at the floor. “I love your father,” she said, admitting it at last. “I love him very much, and the minute he finds out who I am, my life is over.”
“Maybe not,” he said. “You’ve got another week until the concert. Surely in all that time you can manage to tell him the truth. Can’t you?”
“I hope so,” she said with a sad smile. “You don’t mind who I am, do you?” she asked worriedly.
“Don’t be silly.” He hugged her warmly. “I think you’re super, keyboard or not.”
She laughed and hugged him back. “Well, that’s half the battle.”
“Just out of curiosity,” Harry asked from the doorway, “who was the bearded giant?”
“That was Hank Shoeman,” Elliot told him. “He’s the drummer for Desperado. It’s a rock group. And Amanda—”
“—plays backup for him,” she volunteered, afraid to give too much away to Harry.
“Well, I’ll be. He’s a musician?” Harry shook his head. “Would have took him for a bank robber,” he mumbled.
“Most people do, and you should see the rest of the group.” She grinned. “Don’t give me away, Harry, okay? I promise I’ll tell Quinn, but I’ve got to do it the right way.”
“I can see that,” he agreed easily. “Be something of a shock to him to meet your friend after dark, I imagine.”
“I imagine so,” she said, chuckling. “Thanks, Harry.”
“My pleasure. Desperado, huh? Suits it, if the rest of the group looks like he does.”
“Worse,” she said, and shuddered.
“Strains the mind, don’t it?” Harry went off into the kitchen and Amanda got up after a minute to help him get lunch.
Quinn wasn’t back until late that afternoon. Nobody mentioned Hank’s visit, but Amanda was nervous and her manner was strained as she tried not to show her fears.
“What’s wrong with you?” he asked gently during a lull in the evening while Elliot did homework and Harry washed up. “You don’t seem like yourself tonight.”
She moved close to him, her fingers idly touching the sleeve of his red flannel shirt. “It’s thawing outside,” she said, watching her fingers move on the fabric. “It won’t be long before I’ll be gone.”
He sighed heavily. His fingers captured hers and held them. “I’ve been thinking about that. Do you really have to get back?”
She felt her heart jump. Whatever he was offering, she wanted to say yes and let the future take care of itself. But she couldn’t. She grimaced. “Yes, I have to get back,” she said miserably. “I have commitments to people. Things I promised to do.” Her fingers clenched his. “Quinn, I have to meet some people at Larry’s Lodge in Jackson Hole next Friday night.” She looked up. “It’s at a concert and I have tickets. I know you don’t like rock, but there’s going to be all kinds of music.” Her eyes searched his. “Would you go with me? Elliot can come, too. I…want you to see what I do for a living.”
“You and your keyboard?” he mused gently.
“Sort of,” she agreed, hoping she could find the nerve to tell him everything before next Friday night.
“Okay,” he replied. “A friend of mine works there—I used to be with the Ski Patrol there, too. Sure, I’ll go with you.” The smile vanished, and his eyes glittered down at her. “I’ll go damned near anywhere with you.”
Amanda slid her arms around him and pressed close, shutting her eyes as she held on for dear life. “That goes double for me, mountain man,” she said half under her breath.
He bent his head, searching for her soft mouth. She gave it to him without a protest, without a thought for the future, gave it to him with interest, with devotion, with ardor. Her lips opened invitingly, and she felt his hands on her hips with a sense of sweet inevitability, lifting her into intimate contact with the aroused contours of his body.
“Frightened?” he whispered unsteadily just over her mouth when he felt her stiffen involuntarily.
“Of you?” she whispered back. “Don’t be absurd. Hold me any way you want. I adore you…!”
He actually groaned as his mouth pressed down hard on hers. His arms contracted hungrily and he gave in to the pleasure of possession for one long moment.
Her eyes opened and she watched him, feeding on the slight contortion of his features, his heavy brows drawn over his crooked nose, his long, thick lashes on his cheek as he kissed her. She did adore him, she thought dizzily. Adored him, loved him, worshiped him. If only she could stay with him forever like this.
Quinn lifted his head and paused as he saw her watching him. He frowned slightly, then bent again. This time his eyes stayed open, too, and she went under as he deepened the kiss. Her eyes closed in self-defense and she moaned, letting him see the same vulnerability she’d seen in him. It was breathlessly sweet.
“This is an education,” he said, laughing huskily, when he drew slightly away from her.
“Isn’t it, though?” she murmured, moving his hands from her hips up to her waist and moving back a step from the blatant urgency of his body. “Elliot and Harry might come in,” she whispered.
“I wouldn’t mind,” he said unexpectedly, searching her flushed face. “I’m not ashamed of what I feel for you, or embarrassed by it.”
“This from a confirmed woman hater?” she asked with twinkling eyes.
“Well, not exactly confirmed anymore,” he confessed. He lifted her by the waist and searched her eyes at point-blank range until she trembled from the intensity of the look. “I couldn’t hate you if I tried, Amanda,” he said quietly.
“Oh, I hope not,” she said fervently, thinking ahead to when she would have to tell him the truth about herself.
He brushed a lazy kiss across her lips. “I think I’m getting the hang of this,” he murmured.
“I think you are, too,” she whispered. She slid her arms around his neck and put her warm mouth hungrily against his, sighing when he caught fire and answered the kiss with feverish abandon.
A slight, deliberate cough brought them apart, both staring blankly at the small redheaded intruder.
“Not that I mind,” Elliot said, grinning, “but you’re blocking the pan of brownies Harry made.”
“You can think of brownies at a time like this?” Amanda groaned. “Elliot!”
“Listen, he can think of brownies with a fever of a hundred and two,” Quinn told her, still holding her on a level with his eyes. “I’ve seen him get out of a sickbed to pinch a brownie from the kitchen.”
“I like brownies, too,” Amanda confessed with a warm smile, delighted that Quinn didn’t seem to mind at all that Elliot had seen them in a compromising position. That made her feel lighter than air.
“Do you?” Quinn smiled and brushed his mouth gently against hers, mindless of Elliot’s blatant interest, before he put her back on her feet. “Harry makes his from scratch, with real baker’s chocolate. They’re something special.”
“I’ll bet they are. Here. I’ll get the saucers,” she volunteered, still catching her breath.
Elliot looked like the cat with the canary as she dished up brownies. It very obviously didn’t bother him that Amanda and his dad were beginning to notice each other.
“Isn’t this cozy?” he remarked as they went back into the living room and Amanda curled up on the sofa beside his dad, who never sat there.
“Cozy, indeed,” Quinn murmured with a warm smile for Amanda.
She smiled back and laid her cheek against Quinn’s broad chest while they watched television and ate brownies. She didn’t move even when Harry joined them. And she knew she’d never been closer to heaven.
That night they were left discreetly alone, and she lay in Quinn’s strong arms on the long leather couch in his office while wood burned with occasional hisses and sparks in the potbellied stove.
“I’ve had a raw deal with this place,” he said eventually between kisses. “But it’s good land, and I’m building a respectable herd of cattle. I can’t offer you wealth or position, and we’ve got a ready-made family. But I can take care of you,” he said solemnly, looking down into her soft eyes. “And you won’t want for any of the essentials.”
Her fingers touched his lean cheek hesitantly. “You don’t know anything about me,” she said. “When you know my background, you may not want me as much as you think you do.” She put her fingers against his mouth. “You have to be sure.”
“Damn it, I’m already sure,” he muttered.
But was he? She was the first woman he’d ever been intimate with. Couldn’t that blind him to her real suitability? What if it was just infatuation or desire? She was afraid to take a chance on his feelings, when she didn’t really know what they were.
“Let’s wait just a little while longer before we make any plans, Quinn. Okay?” she asked softly, turning in his hard arms so that her body was lying against his. “Make love to me,” she whispered, moving her mouth up to his. “Please…”
He gave in with a rough groan, gathering her to him, crushing her against his aroused body. He wanted her beyond rational thought. Maybe she had cold feet, but he didn’t. He knew what he wanted, and Amanda was it.
His hands smoothed the blouse and bra away with growing expertise and he fought out of his shirt so that he could feel her soft skin against his. But it wasn’t enough. He felt her tremble and knew that it was reflected in his own arms and legs. He moved against her with a new kind of sensuousness, lifting his head to hold her eyes while he levered her onto her back and eased over her, his legs between both of hers in their first real intimacy.
She caught her breath, but she didn’t push him to try to get away.
“It’s just that new for you, isn’t it?” he whispered huskily as his hips moved lazily over hers and he groaned. “God, it burns me to…feel you like this.”
“I know.” She arched her back, loving his weight, loving the fierce maleness of his body. Her arms slid closer around him and she felt his mouth open on hers, his tongue softly searching as it slid inside, into an intimacy that made her moan. She began to tremble.
His lean hand slid under her, getting a firm grip, and he brought her suddenly into a shocking, shattering position that made her mindless with sudden need. She clutched him desperately, shuddering, her nails digging into him as the contact racked her like a jolt of raw electricity.
He pulled away from her without a word, shuddering as he lay on his back, trying to get hold of himself.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I didn’t mean to let it go so far with us.”
She was trembling, too, trying to breathe while great hot tears rolled down her cheeks. “Gosh, I wanted you,” she whispered tearfully. “Wanted you so badly, Quinn!”
“As badly as I wanted you, honey,” he said heavily. “We can’t let things get that hot again. It was a close call. Closer than you realize.”
“Oh, Quinn, couldn’t we make love?” she asked softly, rolling over to look down into his tormented face. “Just once…?”
He framed his face in his hands and brought her closed eyes to his lips. “No. I won’t compromise you.”
She hit his big, hair-roughened chest. “Goody Two Shoes…!”
“Thank your lucky stars that I am,” he chuckled. His eyes dropped to her bare breasts and lingered there before he caught the edges of her blouse and tugged them together. “You sex-crazed female, haven’t you ever heard about pregnancy?”
“That condition where I get to have little Quinns?”
“Stop it, you’re making it impossible for me,” he said huskily. “Here, get up before I lose my mind.”
She sat up with a grimace. “Spoilsport.”
“Listen to you,” he muttered, putting her back into her clothes with a wry grin. “I’ll give you ten to one that you’d be yelling your head off if I started taking off your jeans.”
She went red. “My jeans…!”
His eyebrows arched. “Amanda, would you like me to explain that book I read to you? The part about how men and women…”
She cleared her throat. “No, thanks, I think I’ve got the hang of it now,” she murmured evasively.
“We might as well add a word about birth control,” he added with a chuckle when he was buttoning up his own shirt. “You don’t take the pill, I assume?”
She shook her head. The whole thing was getting to be really embarrassing!
“Well, that leaves prevention up to me,” he explained. “And that would mean a trip into town to the drugstore, since I never indulged, I never needed to worry about prevention. Now do you get the picture?”
“Boy, do I get the picture.” She grimaced, avoiding his knowing gaze.
“Good girl. That’s why we aren’t lying down anymore.”
She sighed loudly. “I guess you don’t want children.”
“Sure I do. Elliot would love brothers and sisters, and I’m crazy about kids.” He took her slender hands in his and smoothed them over with his thumbs. “But kids should be born inside marriage, not outside it. Don’t you think so?”
She took a deep breath, and her dark eyes met his. “Yes.”
“Then we’ll spend a lot of time together until you have to meet your friends at this concert,” he said softly. “And afterward, you and I will come in here again and I’ll ask you a question.”
“Oh, Quinn,” she whispered with aching softness.
“Oh, Amanda,” he murmured, smiling as his lips softly touched hers. “But right now, we go to bed. Separately. Quick!”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Sutton.” She got up and let him lead her to the staircase.
“I’ll get the lights,” he said. “You go on up. In the morning after we get Elliot off to school you can come out with me, if you want to.”
“I want to,” she said simply. She could hardly bear to be parted from him even overnight. It was like an addiction, she thought as she went up the staircase. Now if only she could make it last until she had the nerve to tell Quinn the truth….