THE RESTLESS VIRGIN

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THE RESTLESS VIRGIN Page 7

by Peggy Moreland


  A woman like Sam wouldn't stand a chance of attracting a man like Nash Rivers.

  "Hey, y'all! Is the lesson over? I've got fresh-squeezed lemonade for you."

  At Mandy's invitation, Sam, Colby and Nash's heads all turned as if their chins were linked by a single string.

  Colby sang out. "Wow! That sounds good!" She squirreled down from her horse, tossed Sam the reins and ran for the fence.

  Chuckling, Sam followed, leading Whiskey. Nash fell into step beside her. "Your family's being awfully nice about having us here."

  Sam lifted a shoulder as she wrapped Whiskey's reins around the rail, tying him. "It's no hardship."

  "All the same, we appreciate the hospitality."

  In deference to the suit Nash wore, Sam led the way to the gate, instead of scaling the fence as Colby had done. "Six months ago, if you were thirsty, you'd have been drinking from the trough with the livestock."

  He arched a brow in question.

  "Mandy used to run the place," Sam explained. "Now that she's married, she's turned over most of the management to Jesse. Gives her more time in the house. She's getting a kick out of doing the little wife-things, like baking and making lemonade. Personally, I hope the newness doesn't wear off any time soon. We used to share the cooking and cleaning chores. Now she does it all."

  When Sam reached for the gate latch, Nash's hand was there first. She whipped her head around to look at him.

  "Ladies first," he offered, smiling.

  Blushing, Sam stepped through then waited while Nash locked the gate behind them.

  Turning, he placed a hand at the small of her back, the pressure slight as he headed her toward the truck where Mandy was pouring lemonade from an insulated jug. "So all of you live together?" he asked.

  Though only two fingers touched her and a layer of cloth separated those two fingers from her skin, Sam felt as if a wall of fire had hit her back. "Yeah," she breathed, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. "Mandy and Jesse took the wing where the master bedroom is, so they have their privacy."

  "What privacy?" Mandy teased, overhearing their conversation. She offered Nash a glass of iced lemonade. "With our twelve-year-old son underfoot, trying to monopolize his father's attention, there's no such thing as privacy."

  Nash accepted the glass, but couldn't hide his confusion. "But I thought you were newlyweds?"

  Mandy laughed and gave him a pat on the back. "We are. We just had a little bit of a head start on becoming parents." She handed Sam a glass, then winked. "Sam can tell you the gory details." She turned to Colby. "Would you like to see our new litter of kittens?"

  Colby's eyes brightened as she turned to Nash for approval. "Can I, Daddy, please?"

  "Sure, sweetheart."

  Then they were gone and Sam and Nash were alone.

  Nash dusted off a spot on the tailgate and sat down. With a glance at Sam, he patted the space beside him, indicating for her to join him. Since there wasn't any other place to sit, Sam grudgingly took the seat offered, but managed to place a good two feet between them.

  "So what are the gory details?" he prompted.

  Sam propped her glass on the tailgate between them and dug a toe of her boot into the ground. "They aren't gory, really. More like sad. Jesse and Mandy fell in love when they were teenagers, but our dad forbade Mandy to go out with him. You see, there was this ongoing feud between the Banisters and the McClouds, and Daddy couldn't stand the thought of a Barrister marrying one of his daughters.

  "Anyway, they started meeting on the sly, and one night Daddy caught them. He put a bullet in Jesse and dragged Mandy home and locked her in her room."

  Nash's eyes widened in surprise. "Your father shot Jesse?"

  Sam winced, knowing how badly this sounded. "Yeah, but I'd like to believe he only meant to scare him, not hurt him. But whatever his intent, Jesse left town that same night without telling a soul where he was headed. Later, Mandy found out she was pregnant. Of course Jesse didn't know about the baby, and she had no way of locating him to tell him. Nobody heard a word from him until a little over six months ago when he came back to Texas to claim the inheritance Wade Barrister left him."

  "And that's when Jesse found out about his son?"

  Sam chuckled. "Yeah. I think you can imagine his shock."

  "So then they married?"

  "Well, no, not right off. They had some things to settle between them first. But it all worked out in the end."

  Thoughtfully, Nash took a sip of his lemonade. "What did Jesse's stepmother think of all this?"

  "Margo?" Sam sputtered a laugh. "She did all she could to keep them apart. That old feud worked both ways. The Barristers didn't care for the McClouds any more than the McClouds cared for the Barristers. Margo was determined to own the Circle Bar and she figured if she could turn Jesse against Mandy, he'd leave town again and she could gain control."

  "She's a shrewd businesswoman."

  "She's a conniving witch, if you ask me," Sam muttered disagreeably. "She hates Jesse almost as much as she hates the McClouds. She resents the fact that her husband left Jesse the ranch, and she only got the house. She wants the whole kit and caboodle and she'll do anything to get it.

  "Personally, I don't understand why she wants it. None of the wranglers on the Circle Bar like her, and would quit if they had to take their orders from her. And she refuses to even acknowledge her neighbors. Considers them beneath her." She cocked her head to peer at him. "How do you know her, anyway?"

  "She's one of the investors in the Rivers Ranch development."

  Though Nash could tell Sam didn't approve of his association with Margo, she offered no comment. She merely lifted a shoulder. "I guess all money is green, no matter what the source."

  Nash set his glass aside and cupped his hands around the rim of the tailgate. He turned his head and looked at Sam. "I appreciate what you're doing for Colby."

  Embarrassed, Sam ducked her head and dug her toe a little deeper into the dirt she'd already loosened. "It's nothing."

  He leaned closer, his voice softening. "I think Colby would disagree. I know I do." He laid a hand on hers, curling his fingers around hers … and Sam's gaze locked on those fingers, feeling the heat and strength in them. Desperately she tried to focus on what he was saying and not on the heat crawling up her arm.

  "I know you won't take money for the lessons. You've already made that clear. But I'd like to do something to show my appreciation. How about dinner? Do you like Italian? There's a great place on Sixth Street

  in Austin. Sfuzzi's. Have you been there?"

  Her eyes still riveted on the hand that covered hers, marveling at the contrast in size, the variation in skin-tone, Sam fought back the panic. Dinner? A date! As much as she'd dreamed of being alone with Nash, she had no experience with dates. "N-no," she stammered. "I've never eaten there."

  "Good! How about Friday night?"

  "What about Friday night?" Colby asked, skipping up to join them.

  Nash and Sam both looked up. Not far behind Colby came Mandy, one arm looped through Jesse's, the other through her son Jaime's. Nash smiled at Colby. "I was just inviting Sam to dinner on Friday night."

  A slow grin built on Colby's face as she looked from Nash to Sam, then back again to her dad. "Really? Cool."

  Sam tore her hand from beneath Nash's and hopped down from the tailgate. "I didn't say I'd go," she mumbled, stuffing her hands into her pockets.

  "Go where?" Mandy asked, joining them.

  "Daddy's taking Sam to dinner Friday night," Colby told her.

  Mandy raised a brow, looking at Sam, her surprise obvious. "Really?"

  "I—"

  But before Sam could deny her acceptance of the invitation, Nash was levering himself from the tailgate, interrupting her. "About seven, then," he said, and turned to Colby. "Well, I guess we better get out of here before we wear out our welcome. Let's go unsaddle Whiskey and put him back in his stall."

  Sam stood, staring afte
r them, her heart pounding a hole in her chest. Dinner? Oh, God! How could she have let this happen? Her blood ran cold as another thought formed. What if Nash was like those men she'd read about, who assumed that by buying a woman dinner they were entitled to a roll in her bed? Dreaming about making love with him was one thing, but doing it was something else! She wasn't ready for this! She didn't know if she'd ever be ready for this! Oh, Lord, what was she going to do now?

  Colby sat on the bathroom counter, watching Nash put the finishing touches on a Windsor knot in his tie. "You look handsome, Daddy."

  Nash smiled at his daughter's reflection in the bathroom mirror. "Thanks, sweetheart."

  Colby scooted along the counter and reached for the knot, fussing with it. "Are you going to kiss her?"

  Nash dropped his chin and stared … then laughed. "This isn't a date, Colby."

  "Well, what is it then?"

  "It's just—well," he stammered, "it's—it's just a way of showing Sam how much we appreciate her giving you lessons."

  Colby bit back a grin. "Uh-huh," she replied, obviously not believing a word he said.

  "Colby?"

  "In here, Nina," Colby yelled back. She made a face at Nash in the mirror and whispered, "I'll bet you five dollars she says, 'Well, there you are, you little scamp.'"

  Nash tossed back his head and laughed at his daughter's impersonation of her grandmother. "You're on."

  At that moment, Nina appeared in the doorway, her plump face flushed. "There you are, you little scamp. I've been looking all over for you."

  Smiling smugly, Colby stuck out her hand. "Pay up, sucker."

  Chuckling, Nash pulled a money clip from his slacks pocket and peeled off a five-dollar bill.

  "And what is that for?" Nina demanded to know.

  Nash caught Colby under the arms and set her on the floor. "Just paying off a little wager."

  Nina frowned at them both. "You shouldn't encourage her. Gambling's a sin, you know." As if just noticing how Nash was dressed, she arched a brow. "Do you have plans tonight?"

  "Daddy has a date."

  Nina's gaze snapped to Nash, her surprise obvious.

  "It's not a date, exactly," he explained.

  "It's a date," Colby insisted as she skipped for the door. "I think Daddy's sweet on Sam."

  Nina drew herself erect, her displeasure obvious. "I didn't realize you were seeing anyone."

  Nash inhaled deeply, feeling the guilt seep in. "I'm not. Since Sam won't accept money for Colby's riding lessons, I'm taking her out to dinner as thanks for all the time she's spending with us."

  Whether Nina accepted the explanation or not, Nash wasn't sure, but she stepped toward him, reaching to adjust his tie. "Stacy liked that color on you," she said, giving the soft silk a final pat. "She always claimed it brought out the blue in your eyes."

  The reminder of his former wife had the desired effect, for guilt ate its way a little deeper into Nash. He caught Nina's hand in his, gently removing it from his chest. "I remember, Nina," he murmured. "You don't have to remind me."

  * * *

  Four

  « ^ »

  Sam did something she rarely, if ever, did … she stood in front of her dresser mirror and stared at herself. Of course it was Mandy who had shoved her in front of the mirror. Sam would never willingly seek her own reflection.

  Standing behind Sam, Mandy pressed her hands over her lips, blinking back tears. "You look beautiful."

  "I look like a streetwalker," Sam grumbled and gave the bodice of the dress a tug upward, trying to shorten the V at the neckline that dipped down between her breasts.

  "You don't either," Mandy scolded. She fussed around Sam, fluffing her hair, and the thick brown locks she had insisted on curling fell around Sam's slim shoulders in waves. Late-afternoon sunlight from the window behind them reflected the golden highlights in Sam's brown hair and danced on the delicate strips of silver that dangled from her ears.

  To Sam, the woman in the mirror looked like a stranger.

  Unexpected tears welled in her eyes. "I can't do this," she muttered dismally, slumping down onto the foot of the bed.

  Mandy plucked a tissue from her pocket and pressed it into Sam's hand. "You can and you will. And don't you dare cry. You'll ruin your mascara."

  Sam sniffed, swiping the tissue beneath her nose. "You sound like Merideth."

  "I wish she were here and could see you right now. She'd be so proud."

  "I'm glad she's not. If she were, she'd probably be stuffing my bra with toilet paper."

  Mandy laughed. "You're probably right."

  The sound of a car driving up had both women turning their heads to the window. At the sight of Nash's Mercedes, a covey of bats burst into flight in Sam's stomach. "Oh, God," she murmured. "He's here."

  Seconds later, the doorbell rang, confirming his arrival. Mandy caught Sam's hand, pulling her to her feet. "You'll do fine," she promised, draping an arm around Sam's shoulders as she guided her toward the bedroom door. "Just relax and enjoy yourself."

  Sam dug in her heels, slapping her hands against the door frame. "Mandy, I can't do this. Tell him I'm sick or something. Heck, tell him I died!"

  Mandy firmed her lips. "I'll do no such thing." She put a determined shoulder against Sam's back and all but shoved her out into the hall. "Now you behave yourself and act like a lady."

  "It'll be an act all right," Sam muttered miserably. "There isn't a ladylike bone in my body."

  "Hi, Nash." Jesse extended a hand in greeting. "Come on in. Sam should be just about ready."

  Nash returned the handshake and stepped across the threshold. "I hope I'm not—" The words "too early" died on his lips as his gaze landed on Sam, who had just made the turn into the entry hall. He had to do a double take to make sure that it was in fact Sam standing there. Hair usually scraped up in a ponytail and covered with a gimme hat now fell in soft curls past her shoulders. And she was wearing a dress! Calf-length, exposing only a short expanse of bare legs, but a dress! And the wheat-colored silk did something to her eyes, panning the gold from those brown depths and making them sparkle.

  Nash wasn't sure what he'd expected, but it certainly wasn't this!

  He took a step toward her, then stopped, unsure how to approach this "new" Sam. He extended the bouquet of fresh wildflowers. "These are for you," he said. "Colby picked them."

  Sam stared at the bouquet as if it was a loaded .45 aimed dead on her chest. No one had ever given her flowers before. Never. And to think that Colby would do such a kind thing for her made a lump rise to her throat.

  A nudge from behind her made Sam stumble forward. She shot a dark look over her shoulder at her sister as she accepted the bouquet. "Thanks," she murmured to Nash.

  Before her fingers had fully closed around the stems, Mandy was snatching the flowers from Sam's hands. "I'll put these in water for you," she offered helpfully. "I'm sure y'all are anxious to be on your way."

  "Well, we do have a seven-thirty reservation," Nash replied gratefully.

  Jesse opened the front door again and gave Sam a wink. "Don't stay out too late, you two."

  "I'll have her home by midnight, I promise." Taking Sam by the elbow, Nash guided her through the doorway. At his car, he reached for the door handle and bumped Sam's hand as she did the same.

  She snatched back her hand.

  "Allow me," he said with a bow and opened the door for her.

  Her cheeks flaming, Sam slid onto the seat and glanced at her wristwatch. It read 7:03. Oh, God, how would she ever survive until midnight?

  "You look lovely tonight, Sam."

  Sam slunk lower in her seat, raising the menu to hide her face. The lights were low—thank goodness—which hopefully would help conceal the blotches of red she was sure stained her neck and cheeks. "Thanks," she mumbled.

  "I've never seen you in a dress before. You should wear them more often."

  "Kind of hard to throw a calf and castrate him while wearing a dress," she re
plied dryly.

  Nash chuckled. "I imagine that's true." He reached across the table, curling a finger over the top of her menu and tipping it down. Her startled gaze met his over candlelight. "Are you going to hide behind that thing all night?"

  "I'm trying to decide what to order."

  "How about if I order for both of us?"

  Reluctantly, Sam laid aside the menu. Since she didn't recognize anything listed, letting him choose was probably best. "All right."

  A waiter appeared. "May I offer you something from the bar?" he asked politely.

  Nash glanced at Sam. "Their Bellini is excellent."

  Though she hadn't a clue what a Bellini was, Sam figured that since it was coming from the bar it was bound to have alcohol in it and she could use a good stiff drink right then. "A Bellini's fine."

  Nash ordered two, then turned his gaze back on Sam … and smiled.

  That smile was almost Sam's undoing. Heavens, but he was handsome! And when he smiled, there was a little dimple on his left cheek that deepened. And that mouth! Merideth would call it kissable, but in Sam's estimation, kissable didn't come close to describing those delectable lips.

  The lower one was a little fuller than the upper and the upper lip almost disappeared as his smile broadened, revealing rows of even white teeth.

  She tried her best to return his smile, but her own lips felt as if they were set in cement. Her shoulders sagged in defeat. "Look," she said miserably. "We don't have to do this."

  Nash looked at her, his smile drifting down into a puzzled frown. "Do what?"

  Sam gestured toward the table. "This dinner thing."

  "Aren't you hungry?"

  "No. In fact, I feel like I'm going to throw up."

  Nash choked back a laugh at her bluntness. "I take it you regret accepting my invitation."

  "I'm not sure that I ever did," she muttered. "Not that I don't appreciate what you're trying to do," she hastened to add. "But it isn't necessary. I like Colby. And I sure as heck don't expect any compensation for giving her a few riding lessons."

 

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