by Diana Palmer
His mouth touched hers softly, and then not so softly. He felt her soft lips part under his, moist and sweet and warm, and he lifted her close while the kiss burned into his mind, his heart. He groaned against her mouth and felt her gasp at the telltale sound that heralded his pleasure.
The slamming of a door startled them, bringing them quickly apart, both looking guilty as Marion came slowly into the kitchen.
She laughed delightedly at the looks on their faces, at the embrace they were obviously just breaking. "And I thought you weren't speaking," she teased.
They both laughed, breaking the tension. Marion beamed as they drew her into conversation. They weren't fooling her. At least here was a marriage that had a chance. It gave her some comfort to know that Cole, at least, wouldn't be alone when she was gone. But what of Ben and Katy? Cole had told Ben, but what about Katy? She wanted to ask, but the lightness of the moment was too precious to be disturbed by stark reality. Later, she promised herself, she'd ask Lacy.
IN CHICAGO, THE LETTER from home lay all alone on the dark hall table. Katy had seen it, and Mama Marlone had told her it was there, but she hadn't opened it. She'd avoided it for days, until Mama Marlone began to chide her about it. Then she took it and placed it on her dresser, in the small cedar jewelry box that Blake Wardell had bought her earlier in the week. She didn't want to open it. That heavy scrawl was Cole's handwriting, and she knew he was angry with her. The past week had been very trying as Danny pushed her into Blake Wardell's company almost every night. Blake wanted her, and he was working some dark magic on her, because she wanted him, too. In her confused state of mind, nothing really made much sense. She was learning how to be gay. That included jolts of bathtub gin that were beginning to make her life bearable.
She finally opened the letter and read it, then burst into tears. Danny was never home. She couldn't depend on him for comfort. But that night she told Blake Wardell, and he pulled her into his arms and held her while she cried. It was the one bright moment since she'd come to Chicago, and when he handed her a glass of gin, she drained it. For a while, it numbed the hurt. She couldn't bear to think she was going to lose her mother.
Later, she begged Danny to let her go home. He flatly refused. He didn't tell her why it was so imperative that she remain in Chicago, but Blake Wardell was just beginning to weaken, to give in to Danny's proposition of a business partnership. He couldn't afford to let Katy go home. Wardell's ardor might lessen in her absence, and Danny could lose his edge.
"Your mother will live for years," Danny said curtly when she cried. "My uncle had dropsy. The docs told him he'd kick off in a month. He lived five years, for God's sake. I can't let you go back home. You're my wife."
"Five years?" Katy asked, brightening.
"Sure," he said. "Write your mama a letter and say you'll be there as soon as you can—that I'm too busy to bring you and that you can't leave here without me. You'll think up something convincing to write. And stop worrying, for God's sake. Nobody lives forever."
He could afford to say that, she thought. He had a living mother who doted on him. If the situations were reversed, he'd have been on the next train like a shot. She tried again.
"I could just visit for a day or so," she said.
He whirled on his heel and struck her so hard cross the mouth that her lip bled. She cried out and backed away. It was like the night she lost the baby. He hadn't apologized for that, or said one word about her miscarriage. He wasn't really sober enough lately to notice anything much.
"I said no," he told her, his eyes glittering as if he'd enjoyed what he'd done. He moved toward her, and she backed away. He chuckled, his eyes dilated. He'd been off dope for several weeks when he met Katy, but the withdrawal had been too hard, so he'd gone back to his old habit. It grew daily, just like old times. It was one reason he needed Wardell as a partner, because Wardell made money. Lots of it. He'd shot up only that morning and he was feeling it good. He liked having Katy afraid of him. It made him feel even better.
"Scared, kid?" he taunted. "You cold little piece of ice. I must have been crazy to marry you!"
"Danny, don't!" she cried.
He pulled off his belt. "You'll like it," he said huskily, aroused by her fear as he never had been by her body. "They all like it. You'll see."
When he finished with her, she lay bruised and sick on the satin coverlet of the bed. Danny had dressed and gone out, whistling. Katy barely made it to the bathroom in time. She was bleeding from what he'd done to her, bruised and humiliated by the perverted pleasure he'd taken in her revulsion. She shuddered, wondering how she was going to survive her marriage.
"You'll do what I say from now on," he'd told her when he'd finished. "You got that, kiddo? You'll do just what I say, or I'll bring in the boys and let them watch next time." His eyes had brightened maniacally as she shrank from him. "I like to watch. Maybe I'll give you to somebody so I can. Wardell wants you. When he makes a move, you go along, you get it? I've got plans for Wardell, and you're my ticket, toots. He already knows I don't mind."
She could hardly speak through her bruised mouth. "You'd let him...?" she sobbed.
"Why not? You were no virgin," he said insolently. "A slut like you shouldn't care. You're nothing in bed, but maybe he won't mind if he wants you enough. Just don't cross me, babe, or what happened just now will look like heaven next time."
Katy bathed, wincing as the water touched her body. She sobbed bitterly. She'd brought this on herself, with her rebellion, her desperation to get away from a dead-end relationship with Turk. But she still loved Turk, even now, and that was an even worse punishment than what Danny had done to her. She closed her eyes, almost choking on fear and unhappiness. He resented the fact that she hadn't been a virgin, despite what he'd said before they'd married. He thought she'd had plenty of men, and he didn't respect her.
Danny was going to give her to Blake. She cared about Blake, but what Danny proposed doing was monstrous, like selling her into prostitution. She was more afraid of him by the day. He'd killed a man. He'd do that to her if she didn't go along. She was frightened, and she didn't dare go to the police. He had several of them in his pocket, and she didn't know which ones she could trust. Mama Marlone wouldn't help. She could write to Cole, but it might get him killed. This was her problem. She was going to have to bear it, somehow.
Later, she sat down at the desk and wrote to her mother and to Cole, making up lies about why she couldn't come home. It took a long time, because she didn't want her tears to soak the paper....
Cole made no remark at all about his letter, but Marion showed hers to Lacy with tears in her eyes.
"Doesn't she care?" Marion asked piteously. "Doesn't she understand what Cole told her?"
Lacy hugged her close. "You know Katy loves you," she said soothingly. But she was worried. She knew Katy as well as Marion did. Katy loved her mother, and she wasn't selfish or uncaring. Something was wrong; she could feel it. Katy was hurt or in trouble and wouldn't tell anyone. Lacy only wished she could do something, at least find out what the trouble was. But she knew, as Katy probably did, that Cole would be on the way to Chicago at the first hint of trouble in Katy's life. She didn't want him hurt, and Lacy certainly didn't. Mobsters were dangerous, and they killed without compunction. Lacy didn't want her husband to be another victim of the gang wars.
But as the weeks went by, Katy's life worsened. She hadn't actually seen him use it, but she'd overheard his men talking about his increased drug habit. She was on the receiving end of a kind of cruelty she'd never even read about. She was afraid that one night Danny might go too far and kill her. Her only compensation was that he hit her where it didn't show, so that Blake Wardell didn't get suspicious. She couldn't forget what Blake had threatened to do to Danny if he hit her again. She didn't want him to know. She couldn't bear to see Blake hurt.
Blake had become a fixture in her life, to Danny's delight. He took her to the theater, to the ballet. He squired her around tow
n and took her to the best restaurants, the best parties. He taught her to fit in and treated her royally. He bought her presents. She grew drunk on his kindness, because Danny was never kind.
She grew drunk on gin, too. It was the only thing that kept her going, made life bearable since the miscarriage.
She forced her mind not to dwell on it. No one at the ranch would know, anyway. She couldn't go home to see her dying mother without risking death herself. Perhaps if she drank enough, she could kill herself. That would end the anguish of living. But it would hurt so many people. She ground her teeth together. There was just no escape.
Blake had taken her to a particularly good nightclub, and she was pretty high when they left.
"You drink too much these days," he said as they drove away in his chauffeured limousine. "It isn't good for you."
"Nothing is," Katy said drowsily. She leaned her head back. "I hate my life. I hate it all."
Blake pulled her close, his very size comforting as her cheek pressed against his broad chest. "Leave him," he said abruptly. "I'm no prize, but I love you. At least I wouldn't hurt you."
She nuzzled closer. "I know that."
He hesitated. "Katy, Danny put a girl in the hospital a few months ago. When he's on dope, he's a different man. He went back to it just after he married you." His eyes narrowed at her sudden stiffness. "He doesn't leave bruises where they can be seen, but I bet you've got marks all over you."
She looked up at him, pleading. '"You mustn't do anything," she said huskily. "You know how crazy he is! He might kill you!"
"That isn't likely."
"He wants something from you, doesn't he?" she asked, because Danny had mentioned it in a lucid moment. "A cut of my business," he agreed. "And I'm the collateral."
He cocked an eyebrow. "How long have you known?"
"Danny told me himself." She laughed unsteadily. "He told me to play ball or else."
One eye narrowed. "Do you want to.. .play ball?"
She sighed, laying her head against his hard arm while she studied him. He was very much a man, and she did want him. She wanted to let him love her one time. To have a man be kind to her would be a real novelty. Danny would know because she'd tell him, and maybe he wouldn't beat her again. Beyond that, it would repay Blake for all his kindnesses to her. She was so busy giving herself reasons to allow it that she pushed the real one to the back of her mind—that she wanted him, too, because there was a very special tenderness in their relationship that she'd never experienced, even with Turk. Of course, Turk hadn't loved her. Not as Blake did.
"It wouldn't be any hardship for me to sleep with you, Blake," she said softly. "I think you've known that all along. You're very special to me."
"That poor blind fool back in Texas," he said softly, his cheeks flushing with feverish desire. He drew her up against him and kissed her, his mouth exquisitely loving.
She'd always enjoyed kissing Blake. Every time it was different. Mostly his kisses were comforting or affectionate. But this one was more. This one, besides being warm and respectful, was deeply arousing.
The gin made her even more receptive than she would normally have been to his tenderness. She put her arms around his neck and didn't even protest when he got a little rough. He wouldn't be cruel to her. He couldn't be. He loved her too much.
He had the driver take her home. The house was dark, because Mama Marlone was spending the weekend with her sister in New Jersey. Danny was out, she supposed.
Blake told the chauffeur to go home and he went inside with Katy.
"Danny might come home..." she began worriedly.
He took off his coat and helped her out of hers, then he swung her up easily in his arms and started up the stairs. "Danny wouldn't interrupt us," he said simply.
He was probably right. She didn't care anyway. She was feeling the gin. Her head was floating. Blake was strong and warm and he loved her. She felt cloud high.
She let Blake undress her, enjoyed feeling like a desirable woman again. He whispered how lovely he found her, touched her white body as if he'd never seen a woman undressed. His mouth was reverent on her swollen breasts, his hands warm and expertly arousing. She trembled with need long before he pulled away from her to undress. But when he started to take off his own clothes, she averted her face.
"Still shy?" He chuckled. "You're one in a million."
She was staring at the closet, there was something odd about the slant of the door, but before she could decide what it was, Blake was in bed beside her, the white sheet just covering his hips as he turned toward her.
He was bigger close up, more threatening without his clothes. He was hairy and dark-skinned, not flabby at all. Katy touched his wide shoulders and met his eyes, fascinated by the tenderness in them. Turk had been tender. Turk! Oh,Turk, she thought guiltily, and put her mouth hungrily against Blake's to blot out the guilt.
Her ardor threw Blake off-balance, but he recovered after a few seconds. He'd wanted her for a long time. He adored her. He wasn't going to rush through such a delectable interlude.
He took his time, kissing her softly for several minutes before he felt her relax and curl into his body. Then he began to touch her, caress her. He pulled the sheet away and looked at her again, pleased with the soft contours of her body, with the soft thrust of her pretty pink breasts. He smiled as he bent to excite them with his mouth, his teeth, his tongue. She liked it. She began to writhe, and then his mouth went quickly down her body. With his lips, he found her where no other man, not even Turk, ever had, and made her gasp.
"No!" she protested as the sensations ran over her like fire.
"Yes," he replied, and kept on.
She cried out with the throbbing pleasure. When he felt her helpless arching, he moved between her legs and pushed himself into her. She opened her eyes and gasped at the size of him.
"Shh," he whispered. He was still, very still, giving her time to adjust to him, to relax again.
"Oh, my.. .God!" she cried brokenly. "I won't.. .be able to..."
"Yes, you will, sweetheart. Easy, now. Don't be afraid of me. I won't hurt you. I love you, Katy. I love you so much!" He brushed his lips softly against hers, his hand moving down her soft breast to her hip, her thigh, and then in between their bodies. He kissed her. At the same time, he began to touch her, bringing back the hot excitement that the shock of intimacy with him had made cold.
Seconds later, her taut muscles began to give, and he let her absorb him until she took as much as she could. No woman had ever been able to take all of him.
She looked into his eyes, staggered.
"Don't worry,"he said softly. "I'd never hurt you. Let me satisfy the urgency, then I'll satisfy you. All right?That's it. Just settle into the mattress and try not to panic. I know how badly I could hurt you if I'm not careful. But I will be. That's it, Katy," he whispered softly as he felt her relax. "You're so lovely. I've never wanted anyone as much."
He smiled as she lay looking at him. His big body shifted very gently, so that he was barely rocking against her. He bent and kissed her warmly, a groan tearing out of his throat as he felt the pleasure beginning at the very base of his spine. He loved her. Nothing had ever been so sweet!
His face darkened, distorted as the gentle rhythm spurred him to sudden, harsh completion. He ground his teeth together and shuddered, a sobbing cry passing his lips as he let go. She was every dream he'd ever imagined! He repeated her name, shivering with pleasure that never seemed to lose its keen edge.
Katy felt him throbbing deep in her body. She held him close, her breath catching as the helpless shudders tossed him in her arms. "Oh, Blake," she whispered when he finally lifted his head and she saw his eyes.
"Are you shocked?"he asked, shaken. "Haven't you ever watched?"
"No," she whispered. She touched his damp, flushed face, his disheveled hair. "Oh, I never dreamed a man could be so gentle!" she said huskily.
"How could I be anything else with you?" he asked uns
teadily. His dark eyes smiled at her. He bent, brushing his lips over her taut face. "It takes a long time for you, doesn't it?" he asked, his voice husky with satiation, his face damp with sweat. "You gave me completion. Now I'll give it to you. I want you to feel what I just did, to know the glory of being loved down to your soul."
She closed her eyes and held him closer. Turk had never loved her, he'd had sex with her. But Blake did love her. She could love him back. She could, for this one night. "Blake—" she began.
"Don't talk." He shifted so that he could find her breasts with his mouth. He was very skillful, thorough and generous in a way Katy, with her inexperience, had never known. But it wasn't his skill that made her tremble with desire, it was the knowledge that he loved her, that her pleasure was everything to him right now. She lay back and gave in to him completely, enjoying the feverish pleasure he was giving her fluid body. She was very attracted to him, and she did genuinely care about him. She could love him!
He kindled her body into savage excitement so unexpectedly that she cried out in fear as he went into her. The shock of his possession was so overwhelming that she convulsed with hot pleasure, her cries like music to the man above her. His jaw tautened and he laughed deep in his throat as he watched her shudder and convulse, her wild eyes meeting his as she surrendered to the ecstasy he was giving her. He almost went over the edge, but he managed to pull himself back in the nick of time.
She pleaded with him not to stop, her voice breaking as she clutched at him, coaxing him back into her arms. She felt insatiable, drunk on fulfillment, and he couldn't resist her. He took her, shivering, from one silver peak to another, from one plane of ecstasy to an even longer one. She wept and clung to him, her eyes closed and nothing in her mind except Blake's delicious sorcery as she felt the shudders lifting her, illuminating her, satiating her in physical joy. She arched up into his taut body and screamed. Blake said something, his body giving way finally to its own anguished need. She felt him shaking above her, but she was so exhausted that she barely heard his hoarse cries.