by Janet Dailey
Youthful blue eyes studied her sharply from an ageing face before the subject was set aside and they stacked the plates and cutlery in the dishwasher. Flo switched it on and then briskly set about explaining the routine of the house.
Wiping the already immaculate dinette table that stood in the middle of the kitchen, Flo concluded, “I’ve already had most of my things moved to the cottage after Colter telephoned me yesterday. I’ll stay at the house tonight to help you with the evening meal and fix breakfast in the morning. After that you’re on your own.”
Disapproval of their hasty marriage was visible in the rigid lines of the woman’s slightly stooped shoulders as she walked to the stove to wipe the top off. Her thick fingers halted their circular movement and she turned to Natalie.
“I know why Colter married you,” Flo Donaldsen stated grimly. “When it suits him, he can be very persuasive. I didn’t see any love or pretence of love in your eyes when you looked at him. What did you marry him for? Was it his money?”
The blurted questions caught Natalie by surprise. She hadn’t expected the older woman to speak so boldly what was on her mind. She stared at her fingers for a moment, studying the plain gold band while the other’s sharp gaze watched her in awkward silence.
Tossing her head back proudly, Natalie met the look. “It was a matter of convenience. He needed someone to look after his home and daughter, and Ricky and I needed a home. It wasn’t his money nearly as much as it was the promise of some measure of security.”
Flo Donaldsen stared at her for more long moments before she breathed in deeply and turned away. “I raised him from a boy. I blamed his father for always reminding him that he was a Langston and different from other people, but I think Colter was naturally born different. He’s cold and heartless. You’ll live to regret the day you married him.”
A chill raced over Natalie’s skin as she apprehensively noted the lack of qualification in the woman’s statement. There were no “maybes” or “mights”. It was a flatly spoken prophecy that held a ring of truth to make it doubly disquieting.
Small fingers tugged impatiently at her hand, demanding her attention. Thrusting aside the woman’s pronouncement, Natalie glanced at the boy standing at her side. A smile appeared immediately at the face brimming with happiness.
Colter’s approval or affection didn’t matter to her. She would be his housekeeper and look after his daughter. Her reward would be in the shining contentment of knowing Ricky would have all the things she wanted to give him — a home, security and a future.
“What is it, Ricky?” Natalie asked patiently.
“Come and look at the swimming pool!” he exclaimed. “There’s one in the backyard!”
“I’ll be there in a minute. I have to help Mrs. Donaldsen first.”
“Run along,” the woman spoke up. “I’ll be starting dinner around five. You can come and help me then.”
“Please, you have to see it,” Ricky insisted.
“All right.” Natalie gave in laughingly, unable to deny the entreaty of those sparkling brown eyes.
The front of the house had only hinted at the beauty to be found in the rear gardens. Honeysuckle vines covered the rock walls, their sweet fragrance mingling with other heady scents. The scarlet pinks of oleander blossoms coated their bush home while the more delicate dusty pink of the mimosa tree dotted its branches. At the end of the walled enclosure was a swimming pool, its smooth waters reflecting the vivid blue of the sky.
A slatted bench swing was firmly suspended from the thick branch of an oak. Natalie couldn’t resist its lure and Ricky scrambled up to sit beside her, soon joined by Missy. Listening with half an ear to Ricky’s chatter, Natalie drank in the tropical serenity of the garden, inwardly laughing at the thought of ever regretting the events that brought her here.
The relative inactivity of the swing soon palled for Ricky, and Missy obligingly produced a large beach ball for a lively game of catch while Natalie looked on. Relaxed, her worries gone, she didn’t notice the increasing length of the shadows until she accidentally glanced at her watch and saw the hands pointing to half past four.
With a start of surprise at the quick flight of time, Natalie slipped out of the swing, calling to Missy and Ricky that she was going into the house to help Mrs. Donaldsen prepare dinner. As she stepped through the French doors into the living room, she heard the sound of a car speeding into the driveway. Immediately there was the strident blare of the horn. Curiosity impelled Natalie across the room to the windows looking out to the front entrance.
Pushing the ivory sheer curtains aside, she saw Colter and Travis McCrea approaching the house through the trees. A dust cloud was just settling over the dark green foreign sports car that had ground to a halt in the drive. A woman with long, shimmering curls of red-gold emerged from the car, scantily clad in an emerald green midriff top and white slacks that rested on her hip-bones.
The thick walls of the house made her words of greeting indistinguishable to Natalie, but she was left in little doubt as to whom they were meant for as the attractive, curvaceous redhead glided over the ground to Colter.
Natalie breathed in sharply in disgust when the woman didn’t stop but continued her slow deliberate movements that first had her hands touch Colter’s chest as her head tilted back to smile. But she didn’t stop there. Her hands twined themselves about his neck while she suggestively and openly pressed her body against Colter’s. His mouth was quirked derisively at the corners before it was pulled down to be claimed in an obviously passion-filled kiss.
Natalie’s blood ran cold at the sight of Colter’s hands resting lightly on the bare flesh of the woman’s waist. His complete lack of resistance kindled a fiery rage that didn’t ease when his head rose slowly from the woman’s kiss. Not until she saw his gaze turn towards the house did Natalie let the curtain fall into place, suddenly aware that if Colter hadn’t seen her at the window, Travis McCrea had.
She trembled with a frustrated kind of fury. If Colter had married her to stop the gossip that would have come if she had merely lived in his home as a housekeeper, then surely she was entitled to some respect from him as his wife!
Then she brought herself up sharply. That hadn’t been his reason for marrying her. He had married her to be certain she wouldn’t be free to leave whenever she chose. There had been no mention that there would be any pretence of a real marriage between them.
Her stomach lurched with sickening swiftness as Natalie realised that whatever women Colter knew, he would go on knowing. His very action at not attempting to forestall the woman’s embrace with Travis looking on proved that he didn’t care if Natalie became an object of ridicule.
It was a jolting discovery, a serpent in the garden of Eden. Her assumption that as his wife she was entitled to an outward show of his respect had been misplaced.
Her self-derisive thoughts were so loud Natalie didn’t hear the car churning out of the gravelled drive. The opening and closing of the front door alerted her to the fact that she was still standing with her back to the window. Too late to move, she lifted her head in proud defiance, preparing to reject the pity that Travis’s brown eyes would offer. But Colter walked into the living room alone, aloof, strikingly handsome, and arrogant, the adjectives that described him so accurately. His gaze flicked from Natalie to the window, then back to her face.
“Deirdre decided against staying.” His mouth moved into a humourless smile as he walked lithely into the room.
The smoothness with which he spoke the name of the girl he had just been kissing sent freezing ripples of anger through Natalie’s veins. Yellow flames blazed in her eyes.
“Deirdre?” Her brow arched in haughty question, determined to show him she was not a doormat to be walked on.
“Deirdre Collins, the daughter of one of the neighbouring ranchers,” Colter elucidated, stopping calmly in front of her.
Unwittingly Natalie’s gaze was drawn to the hard line of his mouth, seeking traces of lip
stick. “More than a neighbour’s daughter, surely,” she mocked.
Her cutting barb seemed only to amuse him. “I believe she considered herself to be,” he agreed.
Again she was sharply reminded of his coldness, his lack of compassion for another human’s feelings. She averted her gaze from the glittering mockery of his.
“Where’s Travis? I thought he was with you,” she said coldly.
“I believe he was under the impression that you might be embarrassed.” Derisive laughter edged his voice.
“Because I saw you kissing that woman?” Her shoulders moved in an uncaring shrug, as if the scene hadn’t concerned her in the least.
“Actually I was being kissed rather than the other way around,” corrected Colter with infuriating evenness.
“You were hardly protesting!” Natalie snapped, and immediately turned away, trembling with rage.
“Does that bother you?”
“Of course not!” she denied, trying to ignore the eyes boring into her rigid shoulders.
“Then why are you angry?”
Natalie was tempted to tell him that she wasn’t, but she had already made the contrary clear. Tightening her fingers into impotent fists at her side, she turned back to him, subduing her temper to reply in an unruffled tone.
“I hadn’t realised that you intended to broadcast the fact that I was nothing more than a glorified housekeeper and babysitter, undeserving of any degree of respect from you as your wife.”
“Do you mean you want us to pretend that we care for each other?” he jeered, revealing his contempt for the idea. “To display affection for each other to outside eyes?”
“No, I don’t mean that at all!” Natalie denied vigorously. “I simply don’t want to be held up to ridicule in the community where Ricky has to grow up.”
“Legally bearing my name will bring you a great deal of respect,” Colter stated.
Her mouth tightened into a mutinous line. “And make me the subject of a lot of gossip,” she added.
“Do you care what people say?”
“Only if it hurts Ricky.”
“Do you feel neglected and insulted because I haven’t kissed you yet, though I remarked once that you were desirable?” Colter inquired, a disquieting glitter in the eyes that roamed her face.
“I’ve already told you what I expect, and that’s respect. Nothing more.” Her nerves suddenly vibrated at how very close he was standing to her, so virilely masculine, so sinuously strong.
“Do you mean you didn’t expect to be the first woman I kissed after we were married?” His mocking amusement was unmistakable.
His finger touched the heightened colour in her cheek when Natalie flushed at the remembrance that she had expected a duty kiss after the wedding ceremony, a meaningless kiss to keep up appearances. She pressed her lips tightly shut rather than admit that. Glaring at his coldly remote blue-green eyes, she remained immobile under the caressing touch of his finger along her cheek and jaw, determined to show her complete indifference to him, an indifference that was equal to his.
“Perhaps I should correct that deficiency.”
The words were barely spoken and his hand was closing firmly over her chin. Her eyes widened in surprise as her hands came up to his chest to push him away. But the attempt was wasted motion as his arm swept around her to check the movement away from him.
The swiftness of his action was only implied and Natalie was aware of the slow deliberation that controlled Colter. When the hard line of his mouth began its descent to hers, she didn’t attempt to struggle. Impassive submission was the best deterrent for an unwanted kiss.
The touch of his mouth drew an involuntary and tiny gasp of surprise. His coldness, remoteness, his lack of emotion had not prepared her for the warm, mobile pressure of his kiss. Natalie had expected his lovemaking to be forceful, even cruel, but certainly not this seductive mastery that coerced response. An enveloping warmth swept through her body as his hand slipped from her chin to the vulnerable curve of her throat.
His expertise was beyond her experience and she reeled from the shock of it when his head rose from hers. Had she kissed him in return? she wondered dazedly as she blinked at the unchanging mask of his aristocratic face. The betraying shudders within said that she had, although Natalie had no recollection of doing so. The predominantly green light in his eyes seemed to indicate an arrogant satisfaction as Colter examined the parted fullness of her lips, still trembling from the firm imprint of his mouth. The light didn’t vary when it slid to hold her gaze.
“It’s been a long time since you have been kissed, hasn’t it?” he inquired, relaxing his hold on her throat and back so she could move away.
“Yes.”
From somewhere she dredged up the strength to reply, seizing on the thought as the reason that his kiss had inexplicably moved her. She had never been a prude. A man’s kiss had always been pleasurable if not exciting.
“That’s a pity,” Colter drawled lazily. Indifference was again drawn in his starkly handsome face, like a mountain cat tired of its prey after the first taste of blood. “You might be quite good with a little more experience.”
Natalie sputtered indignantly before realising that her temper was wasted on Colter. He had already released her and stepped away, a lit cigarette between the lips that had just awoken her senses to his masculinity.
Spinning abruptly on her heel, she started for the kitchen, tossing over her shoulder, “I’m going to help Mrs. Donaldsen fix dinner.”
“Where’s Missy and the boy?”
“Ricky,” her teeth grated in anger as Natalie emphasised her nephew’s name, “and Missy are playing ball in the back.”
Flo Donaldsen was all briskness and efficiency when Natalie arrived in the kitchen, instructing her first in the arrangement of items in the well-stocked cupboards. While Natalie prepared a fresh pineapple, the older woman started cutting thick portions of ham to be broiled as steaks with the pineapple rings.
If she noticed the glow that was still in Natalie’s cheeks, she didn’t refer to it, her comments on the advisability of their marriage already made. And Natalie was too eager to show Colter’s aunt that she was not a novice in the kitchen to allow her mind to wander back to the disturbing kiss.
As Natalie began collecting the plates and glasses to set the dining room table, Flo Donaldsen said, “I had Juan — he’s the handyman and gardener — take your suitcases up to your rooms. I would have unpacked them for you, but I thought you’d rather do that yourself later tonight.”
“Thank you,” Natalie responded, silently wondering if the woman wasn’t insinuating that she and Ricky would be better off to leave them packed. Shaking away that impression, she chose to add a less personal comment. “The gardens and the house are very beautifully kept.”
“Hummph,” Flo sniffed, lifting the lid of one of the pans on the stove to check the vegetables being steamed. “ ‘Stone walls do not a prison make’.”
Glancing at the older woman apprehensively, Natalie decided to ignore the remark. She could hardly regard herself as a prisoner in this house. Her presence here was the result of her own free will, the decision made with a full understanding of the relative permanency of her position in the home, at least until Ricky was grown.
The first meal in her new home was a successful one, successful from the standpoint that the food was deliciously prepared and the company was pleasant. Travis McCrea dominated the conversation with his easy confident charm, not at all obtrusive, with Ricky occasionally competing for control of the subject matter.
For the most part, Travis kept the conversation channelled to the events of Fiesta week in San Antonio, drawing out Missy’s shy observations on the activities and chuckling at Ricky’s bolder statements. Travis kept the talk away from personal inquiries into Natalie’s life or the way she had met Colter.
Colter did not remain totally silent, but mostly he observed, his comments generally restricted to Ricky’s questions abou
t the ranch. He seemed to be prepared for Ricky’s interest, and Natalie silently wondered how long his apparent patience would last under Ricky’s insatiable curiosity.
When the dinner dishes were cleared and the strawberry dessert placed on the table, Ricky leaned forward to look past Natalie at Colter seated at the head of the table.
“Will you take me to see the cows and horses tomorrow?” he asked, but it was closer to a demand. “Missy wouldn’t take me to see them today. She said we weren’t allowed down there.”
“Ricky!” Natalie said in a shushing tone, certain this time that he had trespassed too far by asking Colter to give him a tour of the ranch. “Mr. —” A sideways glance at the light brown head saw eyebrow-arching mockery at her almost formal reference to the man who was her husband. “Colter,” she corrected quickly, feeling the warmth climbing up her neck, “will be too busy tomorrow to show you around.”
“Will you?” Ricky asked, wanting to hear it from Colter’s lips, ignoring Natalie’s frown to be silent.
“I probably will tomorrow,” Colter agreed, “but maybe the day after. We’ll see.”
“Can I ride a horse?” Satisfied with his half-promise, Ricky pursued another tangent.
There was a trace of exasperation in Natalie’s sigh that brought an amused glance from Travis McCrea’s rugged face seated across the table from her.
“Have you ever ridden a horse before?” Colter asked him, not missing the smiling exchange between his wife and his foreman yet totally unconcerned by it.
“No,” Ricky admitted as if it was of little consequence to his request.
“Have you?” The compelling blue-green gaze was turned to Natalie.
“Some years ago but I’m hardly experienced,” she replied.
“Pick out some suitable mounts for them,” he instructed Travis.
“I think I know just the pair,” the dark-haired man nodded, winking at Ricky, who was beside himself with glee.
“Do you ride, Missy?” Natalie asked, trying to include the young girl so she wouldn’t feel left out of the activities.
A nervous glance was darted at her father, who responded for her. “She used to ride. She was thrown from a horse two years ago and dislocated her hip. She hasn’t been on a horse since then.”