by Renee Roszel
“Just sit. I’ll take a look,” he said gruffly.
With a fresh stab of unease, she sat back, clutching the chair arms.
He was silent for a long time. Maybe a month. At least that was how it seemed to Anna. When she’d entered, his gaze had held none of the sensuality she’d seen two nights ago. Tonight he radiated anger and some tightly controlled emotion she couldn’t read.
She glanced at her white-knuckled hands. Not wanting him to see her apprehension, she peeled them off the chair arms and balled them into fists in her lap. Then, unable to help herself, her mind slid treacherously back to Saturday night—Dusty standing at the bottom of the stairs and poor, misguided Nicole... “I talked to her,” she said, then realized she’d spoken aloud.
He looked perplexed. “What?”
Stupid! she berated herself. Why would you want to remind him of the other night! Flushing, she shrugged. “I had that talk with Nicole and...” The sentence faded away in her self-consciousness.
He watched her silently, his jaw knotting and unknotting with measured regularity. She couldn’t tell if he was irritated by the memory of that night or merely the interruption of his reading. “I appreciate it,” he murmured, dropping his gaze to the pages in his hand.
She slumped back, not knowing if she was relieved or hurt by the lack of attraction in his eyes. With a deep breath, she decided it was better this way. Better to have ignored her desires and never made love to him. Her mother was right about his type.
“We’ll go with Randall Pole Barn and Fence Company.” He indicated her notations with a tap of his finger, bringing her back to the present. “You’re right. He’s not the lowest bid, but the quality’s there.”
Anna relaxed slightly, but when she didn’t leave immediately he asked, “Anything else?”
Apparently he’d expected her to hop up, bark, “Yes, sir!” and go. She stood belatedly, leaning forward to retrieve the papers. “No... sir. I’ll call Randall’s in the morning.” She got up and made it to the door before a thought occurred to her. “Uh, Mr.—”
The ringing of his phone stilled her. He picked up the receiver. “Dare, here.” Anna vacillated between not wanting to eavesdrop on his conversation and wanting to ask him a question that had been bothering her since Freckle had won on Saturday. So she stood there. Dusty knew she was listening. If the conversation was private, he’d signal her to leave.
“Yes, hello, Sar—” He stopped himself, swiveling his chair around so that his back was to Anna. “Go ahead,” he continued quietly.
Anna grew curious at his strange behavior and stealthily slipped closer to hear. “I see,” he was saying. “Thank you for getting back to me so quickly. I’ll be in touch.”
He hung up slowly and seemed to Anna to be deep in unpleasant thoughts. She scurried noiselessly toward the door, feeling a twinge of guilt for spying. She waited, but he never moved. After he’d sat there for a long time, his fist still on the receiver, Anna asked, “Bad news?”
His head snapped up. Clearly he’d forgotten her presence. How flattering. “Nothing. Business. Uh, what did you want?”
She felt awkward, not wanting to trouble him when it was obvious there was something very wrong. “I...well, it’s not that important. I can come back tomorrow.”
He inhaled as though working to relax. “Miss Andrews, if there’s a problem, tell me.”
She leaned against the doorjamb. “It was just that I was wondering something.”
He sat back in his leather chair, his glance steady, yet guarded. “Wondering what?”
Her heart pounded. She wanted to ask him another question, but decided to begin with a more innocent one. “I was wondering how the interviewing for a new stable manager’s going. I understand you’ve gotten some résumés.”
He lifted a shoulder. “Quite a few, but none with the qualifications I’d like.”
She nodded, trying to get up her nerve to ask the other question.
“I gave Frosty Fremont a call last week,” he said when she made no comment.
In fact, she had been about to speak, but his words struck her momentarily dumb. “Frosty Fremont?” she managed finally. “Why, a couple of the horses he’s trained are in the NCHA Hall of Fame. You... you think you might be able to get him to work for you?”
Another nonchalant shrug. “I’ve heard rumors he’s not happy at the Silver Q in Dallas, so I gave him a call. He’s flying up next week to talk.”
Anna swallowed, her airy fantasies of being allowed to stay here crashing to her feet. “I see,” she said. “I’m surprised you hired Steven if you can get a man like Mr. Fremont to consider working for you.”
“I talked to Frosty last year before I hired your brother, but he thought things would get better where he was. Your brother had won some competitions on horses that were only fair. He had talent, and I gambled.” He steepled his hands. “I never made a bigger mistake before or since.”
Anna flinched at his cruel remark, hurriedly reminding him, “You know, Steven and I had the same teacher. I think Uncle Bud would have been as great as Frosty Fremont if he hadn’t gotten hurt in that freak fall.”
Dusty pursed his lips. “It’s possible.”
With her heart pounding in her ears, she forced herself to go ahead and ask what she really wanted to know. “How do you think I’m doing as manager? Not that I’m fishing for compliments,” she added apprehensively. “I only wanted to know your opinion, since you never say much.”
He crossed his arms. She couldn’t tell if his expression was of contemplation or displeasure. Fearing the worst, she dropped her gaze.
“You’re capable,” he admitted, “but you still have a great deal to learn.”
The tepid answer didn’t sit well with Anna, and her feelings must have shown in her expression, for his lips twitched upward in a weary smile. “Don’t take it to heart, Miss Andrews. Brett and I have one of the best stables in Oklahoma, simply because our standards are impossibly high.”
Deep resentment washed over her. “What about Freckle? Don’t you think she improved with my training?”
“I admit you surprised me. But since you’re working with some of the best horses in the country, who can say where the credit belongs? Can you swear it was you and not the innate ability of the horse?” He paused, his smile indulgent. “Don’t be impatient. Give yourself another five years to get seasoned—”
“Please,” she snapped, her pride getting the better of her. “Don’t patronize me. It’s obvious that, because of what Steven did, you’ll never think of me as worthwhile.”
Dusty’s features became hard with offense. “My feelings for you have nothing to do with your brother,” he said, his voice rough. Now his eyes sparked with desire, but it was so unexpected that Anna sagged against the jamb. She could hardly catch her breath.
“Don’t look at me that way,” she cried. “I know that look, and I know the kind of man you are. The answer is no. No quickie affairs for me.” She bit her lip as his gaze narrowed. “I have a wonderful boyfriend who would do anything for me, and I’m not interested in playing sex games with... with any self-centered Tom, Dick or—”
“Dusty?” he finished for her, his tone grim, almost hurt. He planted both palms on his desk and rose to his feet. “Thanks for clearing that up. But for the record, I’m not a type, Miss Andrews. I’m a man.” Rounding the desk, he strode toward her, looking like some wild wounded thing, dangerous, yet thrilling. She cowered against the doorjamb.
When he was six inches away from her, he stopped, placing one hand on the wall above her shoulder. He didn’t quite touch her, but she could feel his radiant heat, almost taste his hovering mouth. “I think you’re more interested in me than you care to admit,” he drawled, his lips parted in wicked invitation. “Why don’t we find out.”
He moved the remaining six inches and brought his mouth down on hers. His kiss was surprisingly soft. She heard a whimper and knew it came from her as her body filled with passion
and need. A languid warmth invaded her limbs, and she was instantly weak, instantly his.
Dusty’s caressing hands made her fully aware of just how much of a man he was. Her trembling, willful arms disobeyed her orders to remain still and curled about his shoulders.
He nibbled her lower lip seductively, making her sigh with eagerness. Then she surprised herself by pressing impatiently against him and massaging his muscled back with wanton fingers—wishing his skin were bare to her touch, wishing hers was bare to his.
Without warning, he wrenched himself away, his breathing heavy. “Don’t play if you can’t pay, Miss Andrews,” he growled huskily, stalking to his desk and unceremoniously sweeping it clear of all contents. She could only stare, held in the grip of a passion-induced daze.
“I could have you right here, right now, if I wanted to,” he challenged, his eyes glittering with frustration and fury. “You may not like me, but your body does!” He pounded his fists on the desk, then, disgusted, strode from the room. “Give my regards to the boyfriend.”
She remained by the door, devastated by his sensual assault and his anger, without even the power to follow his departure with her eyes. His clipped footfalls echoed along the hardwood floor until they faded completely, leaving the vast house shrouded in silence.
She looked straight ahead, focusing on the jumble of papers and office equipment he’d shoved from his desk. The disconnected phone began to emit a high-pitched screech, and to her shocked mind, it sounded as if it was laughing at her.
THAD STOOD in Bent River’s drive, helping her from his sports car. He must have noticed her sadness, for he squeezed her fingers gently. “Don’t worry, sweetie. Pneumonia isn’t uncommon in somebody your uncle’s age. He’ll be fine.”
Anna sighed. “It’s just that I thought he’d be out of the hospital. It’s been seven days since the fire. And now they say he has pneumonia.” Agitated, she played with her braid. “The problems never seem to end.”
Thad put his arm about her shoulders and kissed her temple. “I know. You’ve had it rough. But on the bright side, hasn’t that Mrs. Prin been a great help?”
Anna peered at him, confused. “Mrs. Prin?”
He hugged her to him. “The nurse’s aide that volunteers at St. John’s. She’s gotten your uncle to eat better, and she’s always so friendly. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed.”
Admittedly Anna had been preoccupied—probably with things she was better off forgetting. But now that Thad mentioned it, she recalled the woman. A redhead about her own age, who was divorced and trying to fill a lot of empty hours. She nodded. “Oh, sure. Linda was her name. Right?”
“Lydia,” Thad corrected. “Would you like to take a walk? I don’t have to be back at the hotel right away.”
Anna nodded, sliding her arm about his waist. “Sure. We haven’t been able to be alone much these past weeks. Let’s walk down by the pond.”
They strolled in silence, skirting the house and the pool. Dusty had held a party there the night before, but she hadn’t been included. She’d been told it was to celebrate the expansion of Cherokee Natural Gas. According to Max, Dusty was about to close a deal to buy out a Texas pipeline firm. Anyway, these folks didn’t ride, so there’d been no need to include Anna. She told herself she was happy about that. The less time she spent around her boss the better.
Anna and Thad followed a path through the woods to a field where the grass grew tall and wildflowers proliferated. After another minute they crested a rise, then headed into a valley. In its center was a small pond blanketed with lily pads and surrounded by tall sycamores.
The night smelled of aromatic grasses, primrose and the sweet pungency of sycamore leaves. They wandered along the bank with their arms entwined about each other. There was rain somewhere in the distance—Anna could smell it on the breeze.
A fish jumping made a plopping sound in the darkness, and an orchestra of crickets played their night symphony, gentling Anna’s troubled spirit.
She glanced up. Clouds seemed bent on scurrying one after the other over the moon, occasionally cloaking her and Thad in absolute darkness. It was during one of these moments that Thad surprised her with a kiss. She was completely unaffected by it and was glad he couldn’t see her face.
She’d tried hard to remember her mother’s warnings about fireworks men, and she’d fought her desire for Dusty hard. But lately she’d begun to wonder if her father hadn’t simply been a jerk. Perhaps being a fireworks man wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. And just because a man was nice and hardworking didn’t necessarily make him the right husband for her.
Since Dusty’s last kiss, she’d started to think that a certain amount of wild passion was essential to a relationship. She couldn’t deny that kindness was important, too. But couldn’t a person find both?
With Thad holding her in his arms and her lips still damp from his kiss, she felt more dissatisfaction than pleasure—not to mention more confusion. “Thad, I—”
“Anna, don’t interrupt,” he said hoarsely, pulling her to his chest. “I’ve been working up my courage for weeks, so don’t stop me now.” His tweedy blazer was rough against her cheek as he held her tightly to him. “I know we broke up partly because you love horses and always want them to be a part of your life, but—”
“Thad, I—”
“Anna, I can’t let you go,” he said bleakly. “I didn’t tell you, but I’ve been offered a promotion in another city—San Francisco.” She tried to speak, but he cut her off again. “No, it’s okay. I turned it down. Told my boss I had to stay in Oklahoma, because the woman I love wouldn’t be happy in California. What I’m saying is—” he squeezed her and inhaled as if to reinforce his courage “—I got a good raise and a promise that, when the Oklahoma City Elite Quadruplex becomes available, it’s mine. It’s a five-star hotel connected to a huge convention center. A real choice managership, sweetie. And it’ll be mine in a year or so.”
“That’s wonderful, Thad. I had no idea.”
“I know. I wanted it to be a surprise before I asked you to marry me... again. Please, say you will.”
Anna could only stare at him. It wasn’t that she was startled by his question. It was just that she’d thought she’d known what she would say when it came—yes. But now—after being thoroughly thrown off balance by Dusty Dare—she wasn’t sure any longer.
He cleared his throat. No, the sound hadn’t come from Thad. They exchanged concerned glances. Coming to the same conclusion at the same instant, they turned in unison. The moon had popped out from behind a cloud, so the huge old sycamore nearby was no longer in darkness. To Anna’s horror, a figure rose from a sitting position. “Dusty,” she whispered, appalled.
His hands were on his hips, in a casual, almost insolent stance. “Anna, Thad,” he said quietly, “didn’t mean to intrude. I was just out...enjoying the silence. Seems Nicole’s taken up the tuba.”
Anna bit her lip. It hadn’t been her fault Nicole had decided she wanted to learn to play the tuba. But she didn’t try to defend herself; she had the feeling he didn’t really care about that. It was unlike him to wander around the ranch late at night. Something else was wrong. Probably the same thing that had been bothering him last week.
He touched a finger to the brim of his hat and turned away to start toward the house. “Have a nice... walk.”
Neither she nor Thad said anything. She supposed they both were too shocked and embarrassed to speak. They merely watched in silence as Dusty walked off into the night. When they could no longer see or hear him, Anna managed to look at Thad. It was only then that she realized they’d been holding each other the whole time. She pulled away.
“Damn,” Thad said sullenly. “That guy would be out here now.”
Anna shook her head, unaccountably sad and not daring to analyze it. “It’s his land. I guess he can sit beside his own pond if he wants.”
Thad shrugged, smiling weakly. “I guess. But I was hoping this would be private. You r
ealize I just asked you to marry me, don’t you?”
She nodded. “Yes, and I’m flattered. You’re the nicest man I know.”
“That’s a good start.” He hauled her into his arms, again, sighing against her forehead. “Oh, Anna, you don’t know how I’ve dreamed of marrying you—having you live in the hotel with me. Two big rooms, with a southern exposure. And our apartment in the Quad in Oklahoma City’ll be even better.” He kissed her. “As far as your uncle’s concerned, he can have a room at the Elite until you get your place rebuilt. Family rate,” he teased. “He can move with us when we go, too, if he wants. We’ll be a great team. I know we will.”
“But... what about my work?”
He chuckled. “You won’t have to work. I make good money.”
“It’s not the money, Thad. I love horses. I want to be around them.”
He nuzzled her hair. “I know. I figure you could board a horse for riding on weekends. I want you to be happy.”
Dejection coursed through her. The thought of living in town without grass or trees or the sweet smell of hay horrified her. And she didn’t even want to imagine never training a bright young horse again.
Still, he’d never mentioned boarding a horse before. He was softening, the dear, and she appreciated that. “Oh, Thad,” she said, deciding she had to be honest but not brutally so, “I can’t think about marriage right now. Not with Steven in trouble, Uncle Bud in the hospital and the ranch burned down. I know I’m being unfair to put you off, but can’t you wait until this thing with Steven’s settled? It won’t go on much longer. I’m sure he’ll come to his senses and show up any day—any minute.”
She decided not to voice her doubts about her feelings for him ever deepening into love.
His expression was so hopeful and she feared she would hurt him badly if she uttered even one negative word. Besides, he’d made a big sacrifice for her. Maybe she ought to start thinking about doing the same thing for him. She kissed him. “You’re a fine person, Thad. One of the finest I’ve ever known. To tell the truth, I’m not sure I’m good enough for you.”