Legendary Lover

by Roszel, Renee

  Legendary Lover

  Renee Roszel

  Copyright © 1989 by Renee Roszel. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from Don Congdon Associates, Inc.; the agency can be reached at dca@doncongdon.com.

  To Hope and Blake Wilson

  Contents

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  About the Author

  Prologue

  From her crouched position in the underbrush behind the pole barn, Tessa Jane had no trouble spotting Cord. He was the most magnificent sight any red-blooded sixteen-year-old girl could hope to see. She’d only been at Broken Arrow High School since Christmas, when her father had landed the gas station job, but she felt as if she’d been in love with Cord Redigo all her life.

  With that wavy blond hair, those clear blue eyes and that muscular body, he was the most gorgeous hunk who’d ever walked the face of the earth. And that smile… When he grinned, there was a devil-may-care lift to his lips that turned her to mush. She wished, just once, he’d aim that smile her way.

  Last week Tessa Jane’s father had been fired for being drunk on the job. It had become a familiar story since her mother’s death four years ago. At least, this time, her dad’s boss allowed them to stay in the gas station’s tiny apartment until Tessa Jane finished the final week of her sophomore year. That time was up today. First thing tomorrow they’d be hitching rides along the highway—broke and homeless, again. Tessa Jane Mankiller would be gone, and Cord Redigo would never even know she existed.

  The sun had become an orange disk in the west. Eight flat-bed hay wagons were overflowing with carefree, graduating seniors. Tessa Jane’s throat closed as she heard the stirring timbre of Cord’s laughter. The silver belt buckle he wore flashed golden in the setting sun as he helped his pretty blond girlfriend onto the end wagon.

  On legs aching badly from her long, cramped wait, she edged up to a junker pickup, her heart fluttering like a barnful of frightened chickens. She absolutely had to talk to him—just once—before she left town.

  When the sun dropped below the horizon, the tractor engines rumbled to life, signaling Tessa Jane’s last chance to meet Cord—to be the recipient of his brilliant smile. She scurried across the gaping space and scrambled onto the end hay wagon. Without daring to breathe, she secreted herself behind a stack of quilts.

  She peered over them, her eyes fastening on the vague outline of Cord’s rugged profile. When he bent to kiss Marissa, Tessa Jane turned away.

  Time dragged as the tractors slowly pulled the wagons along the dirt roads that criss-crossed the Redigo property. After an hour, they reached a huge bonfire, circled the wagons and the teens clambered down to gather around the fire.

  When everybody had gone, Tessa Jane sat up and peered around. They were deep into the Redigo property, miles from the main road. It was dark—very dark. She didn’t know which would be more stupid at this point, trying to find her way back, or staying on the hay wagon like the pesky snoop she was.

  Just as she was about to opt for getting out of there, no matter what the consequences, she was halted by an unexpected turn of events.

  “Okay, Mr. Valedictorian!” one of the girls shouted. “If you’re so smart, you be first under the blanket for ‘Guess the Girl.’”

  The crowd around them rumbled with laughter as another girl chimed in, “Come on, Cord. I bet you can’t guess me.”

  “You chicken?” taunted a husky young man that Tessa Jane recognized to be the captain of the football team.

  Cord exhaled, shaking his head. “Rob, this is dumb….”

  “I’ll go first,” Marissa announced a little belligerently.

  Rob slung an arm around her neck. “Oh, no, you don’t. Girlfriends are ineligible for obvious reasons.”

  “By whose rules?” she shot back.

  He ignored her. “Cord, get up there under that blanket. I’ll choose who goes first.” With a harassing pinch on Cord’s cheek, he added, “Show us a little guts.”

  The cluster of people was growing, and so were the catcalls and needling shouts. Cord gave up with a shrug, and hoisted himself onto the wagon. Tessa Jane shrank back into the deep nest of hay and lay very still.

  When Cord drew the blanket over his head, Tessa Jane heard Marissa whisper to Rob, “Didn’t you say you brought some booze?”

  “Yeah, you thirsty?” He pulled a flask from his back pocket.

  “Very!” She snatched the bottle, and when the first pretty candidate had been lifted up to join Cord, Marissa grabbed a quilt and stalked around the wagon to plop down in the darkness.

  Tessa Jane stared wide-eyed as the game progressed. Marissa had gulped down most of the contents of the flask, calling Rob a nag when he tried to take it away from her as the sixth girl took her turn at trying to fool Cord. The newcomer failed.

  After the seventh girl crawled out, Rob called it quits. “Cord, this is getting boring. Besides, Marissa’s mad.” When Cord started to crawl out, Rob pushed his head back under. “Stay there. You’ve earned some time alone with your girl. Come on the rest of you, Hank and Teddy are tuning up for the sing-along.”

  As the others straggled away, Cord called Marissa’s name.

  Tessa Jane knew she had to leave now. The last thing she wanted to witness was Cord and Marissa moaning and writhing beneath a blanket. She was just about to scramble over the side when she heard a faint groan, and saw Marissa’s head disappear below the wagon.

  Crawling to the edge, she looked down. The pretty blonde had passed out cold on her blanket.

  “Marissa,” Cord repeated. “Are you coming?”

  Tessa Jane wavered. She could make a clean getaway, or she could tell Cord that his girl wasn’t coming. She stared at the blanket, her insides aching. She hesitated for only an instant before crawling over to him, planning to tell him about Marissa.

  Before she could say anything, a large hand grasped her wrist and pulled her beneath the blanket. She sucked in a surprised gasp. When she tried to tell him he’d made a terrible mistake, she discovered that her ability to form words was gone.

  He’d wrapped his arms around her, but his movement stopped abruptly on the rounded curve of Tessa Jane’s hip. “Who are you?” he asked. “You’re not Marissa.”

  “No…,” she managed in a reedy whisper.

  He chuckled. “I thought the game was over.”

  She could feel the warmth of his breath on her face and she smiled, despite her nervousness. “It is.” Her voice sounded husky in her ears, and she swallowed several times to ease the dryness in her throat. “Marissa, er, passed out.”

  “Damn. Is she okay?”

  “She’s asleep on a blanket—everybody else has gone off to sing, Cord. I just wanted—”

  “You wanted to see if I could guess who you are,” he finished for her, sounding a little tired. “Okay.” He moved his hands to her shoulders. “Marissa’s better off asleep than sick, I guess.”

  He moved his face so close to hers, she could feel his curls graze her cheek. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice more high-pitched than she’d intended.

  “Sniffing. You aren’t wearing perfume.”

  “No.” She blanched, embarrassed. Perfume was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

  “You’re an Ivory girl,” he whispered. “That’s refreshing.”

  A shiver ran down her spine as his lips accidentally brushed her chin. �
��Thank you,” she murmured inanely.

  His hands had moved up to cup her ears. He touched the lobes. “No earrings? No fair. They’re a dead giveaway.”

  “Well—I—”

  “I know. You didn’t want to make it too easy for me.”

  She chewed on the inside of her cheek. How horribly beneath him in class she was—entirely too poor.

  He ran his fingers through her short hair. “Soft,” he murmured. “A no-nonsense woman. I like that.”

  Her cheeks grew hot. A no-nonsense woman. She’d never thought of herself that way. If she was, it was out of necessity, but she enjoyed the idea that Cord liked her that way.

  “May I touch your face?” he asked quietly.

  “Why…sure.”

  He ran his thumbs over her closed eyelids. “Lord, you have thick eyelashes. I bet they’re black.”

  His unexpected remark startled her. “Why?”

  “A guess. Blondes don’t have thick lashes, usually.”

  “You’re very observant of women, aren’t you?”

  “I try to be observant of everything. Don’t you?”

  He had her there. “I—guess.”

  “If you’re not blond, that cuts about twenty percent of the girls I know. Your lips?”

  “I have two. Does that cut out any girls you know?”

  He laughed. “You have a sense of humor. That shuts out about fifty percent. No. I meant, may I touch your lips?”

  “Be my guest.” Though she didn’t say so, she would have given up breathing to have him touch her lips.

  His fingers slowly traced her mouth. She greedily inhaled the aroma of his hand, a pleasant mixture of smoke from the wood fire and his own musky maleness. His scent mingled nicely with the dusty-sweet smell of the hay, and she felt strangely at home. His hard, male torso beckoned, and Tessa Jane began to experience an unfamiliar urgency in the pit of her stomach.

  “You have very full lips,” he was remarking, as though he was concentrating on their shape, trying to picture them. “I bet you have a nice smile.”

  “You have a nice smile,” she blurted, unable to help herself.

  “Thanks.” He sounded a little surprised. Touching her chin he remarked, “I give up, mystery lady. You’ve stumped me. Let’s get out from under here so I can see who—”

  As he moved to lift the blanket off of them, she grasped his wrist. “No, Cord. Wait.” Her body was pricked through with needles of fear, but she knew if she backed out now, she’d regret it for the rest of her life. “Cord…?” She touched his chest with both her palms. “Would you … kiss me?”

  There was a long pause before he probed softly, “Why? You lose a bet?”

  “You’re teasing me,” she mumbled miserably.

  “Maybe a little,” he offered gently. “But if it’s a kiss you want…”

  He bent his face to hers, finding her mouth. Tessa Jane’s knowledge in the matter of kissing was badly limited. She was thankful she didn’t crash into his teeth. Though brief, his kiss was the most significant sensation Tessa Jane could ever remember. His lips had been firm, but yielding, and he’d tasted so good.

  “Who are you…?” he asked, his voice a tinge huskier than before.

  With a strength born of desperation, she pulled his face to hers. Running on pure instinct now, she wriggled closer until her body was tight against his. He groaned against her lips.

  She lifted her face, her tongue darting out, teasing the corner of his mouth. An instant later, he was kissing her. This time there was nothing tentative or brief about the act. His arms moved around to pull her even more intimately to him. He opened his lips.

  Learning quickly now, Tessa Jane followed suit. When their tongues met, she sighed, and her whole body softened against his, molding to his hard, lean frame.

  His hands began to explore. When he cupped her hips, she groaned. He pulled his lips a hair’s breadth away. “What in hell are we—”

  “I love you, Cord,” she cried softly. She knew in the depths of her soul that this was right. She felt that so strongly that nothing, short of Cord bolting from the wagon, could stop what they had set in motion.

  He mumbled something that sounded vaguely biblical. She didn’t know if it was a curse or a prayer, and she didn’t care. The young man she loved was holding her in his arms, kissing her with hot, demanding lips. While a slightly off-key rendition of a Johnny Cash ballad rang out amid laughter and talking, Tessa Jane was relieved of her panties.

  Cord’s fingers began to explore her most private, secret self, and she hugged him to her, shedding tears of happiness. She gasped at delightful, newborn sensations deep inside her, as he took her lips with his.

  Lifting shaky fingers, she stroked his hair. It felt like strands of silk between her fingers.

  “Oh, Cord!” she half-cried, half-whimpered as her body exploded with red-hot delight. She pulled him to her, holding his wonderful solidness against her pounding heart as passion’s sweet nectar seeped through her like a warm, addictive narcotic.

  He was holding her tenderly, not speaking. Her naked thighs were entangled with his legs. After a moment or two, the ultimate sensation had begun to subside, and she realized that Cord had given her a gift and received nothing in return. Kissing his jaw, she took his belt buckle between her trembling fingers and helped him pull his jeans down.

  He surprised her by taking her hand and closing her fingers around him. At first the intimacy frightened her. She had not anticipated his size, and she had sudden, tremendous doubts that this thing that was happening between them could possibly work. But he took her hand, whispering, “Guide me.” Somehow the soft assurance in his voice calmed her fears. She knew she could not only do this for him, but it would be perfect for them both.

  They were lying side by side. He took her hips in his hands and pressed her toward him as she did as he’d told her. It surprised her to realize how damp she had become.

  As she pressed him into her, Cord groaned. Kissing her forehead, he moved his hips to unite them more deeply. It surprised him when he met resistance. “What the hell?” He drew away slightly. “You’re a vir—”

  “No!” She pressed herself hard against him, cringing at the rending pain her impetuous thrust had cost her. She clung to him, kissing his cheek, his jaw, his lips, murmuring, “It’s okay… really….”

  When Cord’s shock had waned slightly, he was being kissed and reassured so sweetly that his raging hormones allowed him little choice but to respond in kind. He returned her kisses, and they grew deeper, his tongue finding hers in a teasing, taunting dance that made him burn with need. He began to move against her, tentatively at first, making sure that he wasn’t hurting her. Even though he hated the fact that he’d just taken a total stranger’s virginity, the crazy situation had gone too far. Not even a saint could back away now, especially a nineteen-year-old one.

  Tessa Jane shuddered and whimpered his name, grasping him to her as her body quaked with spasms of pleasure. “Oh—oh—Cord. I’ve never felt this way….”

  He could feel her tears against his cheek as he found his own release. He clung to her, too, feeling a strange protectiveness for this petite young woman with the scent of soap, and the soft, sexy mouth. She was so beautifully naive in his arms. It wasn’t as though he’d made love to all that many young women, but the ones he had slept with had been experienced partners. He relished the sweetness of the moment with his unknown, virginal lover for as long as he dared.

  There were over 160 of his friends not fifty feet away, not to mention his steady girlfriend, passed out somewhere beneath them. At least he hoped she was still unaware of where he was and what he was doing.

  But this girl—whoever she was—had taken him so by surprise, with her timid kisses and whispers of love…. Well, hell, he’d done it now. He’d regret it tomorrow, but now…

  When his heartbeat had returned to a relatively normal rate, he murmured, “Don’t you think it’s about time I knew your name?”
>
  “Tessa Jane.” The words came out on a sweet, languid sigh.

  “Tessa Jane what?”

  She smiled dreamily, hoping that very soon her last name would be Redigo. “Does it matter?”

  He didn’t know what possessed him, but he couldn’t resist kissing the tip of her nose. “You’re a very strange young woman, Tessa Jane.” Patting her hip, he told her huskily, “We’d better get presentable. I don’t think the Waco brothers have that large a reserve of songs.”

  When he’d adjusted his clothes, he lifted the blanket and looked down at her. His smile faded, and he stared.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked, feeling a rush of panic.

  “Hell…” He frowned. “You’re just a kid. How old are you, anyway? Fourteen?”

  “I turned sixteen two months ago.” She sat up, running a hand through her tangled hair. Straw fell around her.

  “Oh, that’s great, Redigo.” He shook his head. “Children, yet!”

  His disgusted remark was like a slap. All of a sudden Tessa Jane saw the stark reality of what she’d done—what she’d lost. And what was worse, Cord thought she was a child! She shrank back in the hay, mortified.

  The rest of the hayride went by in a blur for Tessa Jane. Marissa felt so awful that she accepted Cord’s explanation that he was giving one of the “hands’ kids” a ride home. After he’d let Marissa out at her rambling ranch-style house, he climbed back into his car and turned unhappy eyes on her. “Okay. Where do you live, Tessa Jane?”

  She felt tacky and out of place in the plush red leather bucket seat. She hurt between her legs, and she hurt in her heart. She dropped her gaze to her lap and didn’t answer.

  “Did you hear me?”

  “Yes,” she muttered. “And the name’s Mankiller. Tessa Jane Mankiller.”

  “Mankiller,” he repeated, his tone brimming with frustration. She could see his fists tighten around the steering wheel. “What were you doing tonight? Trying to live up to it?”

  She pestered her lower lip with her teeth, changing the subject. “I live in an apartment over Potter’s Discount Gas.”