Legendary Lover

by Roszel, Renee

  “I’m sure you mean well, Mary,” Tess began. “But you’re mistaken about my attraction to your cousin.” The lie tasted bitter in her mouth. “You see, I have a very sweet boyfriend in Nolan. I assure you, your cousin may be attractive, but he’s not God’s gift to women.” She concluded a little tartly, “I’d rather not discuss him, if you don’t mind.”

  Mary blinked at the edge to Tess’s clipped request. “Well, it’s just that I gathered you two once had some sort of relationship, and I was worried that—”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Tess interrupted. “That was years ago and there was absolutely no relationship. We had a difference of opinion then, and I’m afraid we still share that difference. In truth, I really don’t care very much for your cousin.” She was ashamed of herself for blurting out such an unkind piece of fiction about Cord to his own cousin, but she was wound up so tightly that if she didn’t drop to the floor and start screaming and kicking it would be a miracle. She bit her tongue to keep her mouth shut.

  Mary’s expression was skeptical to say the least. “Well, honey, if you say so. I hope I didn’t upset you. Like I said, I’m a dyed-in-the-wool meddler, and since I know how dedicated Cord is to his work…” She shrugged. “Well, there never seemed to be any room for a permanent woman in his life. He’s a workaholic and a little strange about fish, but I love him.

  “I know how he affects women, and I don’t want him to hurt nice young ladies like yourself. Even though the dear boy’d never do it intentionally.” She patted Tess’s shoulder. “But since you don’t even like the guy, let’s pretend this chat never happened. Okay?”

  Tess nodded dumbly.

  “Fine.” She inclined her head. “Anything else you want to get off your chest?”

  “No … no, thanks. I appreciate your concern.”

  Mary nodded curtly. “Would you mind not telling Cord I said anything? He’d kick my skinny rear all the way back to Burlington. For some reason he thinks his business ought to be private.” Her devilish grin was so reminiscent of Cord’s that Tess blanched at the sight.

  Mary laughed crisply. “Men can be such trusting fools.”

  Tess thought of Nolan and bit the inside of her cheek.

  With one more hearty pat on Tess’s shoulder, Mary said, “Good night, hon. Give my regards to that sweet boyfriend of yours.” She turned on her heel to go, but called back over her shoulder, “And keep your guard up.”

  THE NEXT DAY went by in a haze for Tess. She kept recalling Mary’s final words. “Keep your guard up.” She laughed out loud, drawing Kalvin’s attention from his polishing. “Did ya say somethin’ Ms Mankiller?” he asked, obviously perplexed.

  She shook her head, slumping further into her paperwork. “No, Kalvin. I was just thinking out loud.”

  “Oh.” He squinted at her for a minute and then went back to his work.

  “Keep your guard up,” Tess repeated mentally, squelching the urge to scoff out loud again. She shuffled papers, trying to concentrate on the bills. She failed. Cord Redigo had been noticeably absent all day. She had it on good authority that he was a very busy man, and it was painfully evident that he was being very busy avoiding her. As for Mary’s warning to keep her guard up, well, considering Cord’s hotfooted pursuit of her these past twenty-four hours, she might as well transfer her energies to a more urgent project … such as stuffing her head in a flowerpot.

  “All done oiling the wood, Ms Mankiller. Can I quit for supper, now?”

  Tess looked up with a start as Kalvin rose from his kneeling position beside her wooden file cabinets.

  “Oh. Sure.” She looked at her watch simply to be doing something. “It’s after seven. Go eat.”

  He grinned and loped out of her office without another word.

  She stretched, then dropped her pen into the brass cup on her desk. Standing and surveying her cluttered desk, she decided to leave it. She was not ordinarily one to leave a messy desk, but today she just couldn’t care less about neatness and order. She didn’t know what her problem was, exactly. Maybe all she needed was a shower.

  By the time she’d trudged up the stairs to her room she knew that her true need at the moment wasn’t a shower; it was a cleansing talk with Cord. She still felt guilty about yesterday. But she’d had a lot of time during the long hours of the night to think about everything, and she’d come to some conclusions that Cord needed to hear.

  She planned to get her gripe off her chest, and this was as good a time as any. Marching past her own room, she pivoted at his door and knocked. The sound her knuckles made against the maple slab was more timid than she’d planned for it to be.

  When at first there was no response, she breathed a sigh. Part of her didn’t really want this confrontation. She’d just turned to go when she heard Cord say, “Come in.”

  She swallowed. Her resolve had slipped a notch when she’d heard the sound of his voice. She reached for the doorknob and then drew back, fidgeting with the spaghetti strap of her white bodice that had slid off her shoulder. When she’d replaced it, she adjusted the open-front black jacket with its tiny white polka dots, wishing there was a long row of buttons to fasten. When she’d ordered the jumpsuit from the mail-order catalogue, she hadn’t realized she’d have to go braless in it. And somehow, the idea of going braless in front of Cord Redigo seemed an extremely foolhardy thing to do.

  She reached for the doorknob again, but it moved before she could grasp it. She looked up, surprised, as Cord pulled the door wide. He appeared every bit as surprised as she.

  “Well, hello,” he offered, his brows lifting quizzically. “I don’t remember ordering anything from room service.”

  He didn’t look particularly overjoyed to see her, but on the plus side, he didn’t spit at her. She wondered what five minutes would bring, after she’d said her piece. “We don’t have room service,” she ventured, trying out her voice, which sounded normal.

  He crossed his arms, watching her closely. “I know.”

  She cleared her throat. It was time to get to the meat of the matter. “Cord. I’d like to talk to you.”

  He took his time surveying her attire before asking, “Do you want to come in or will the hallway do?”

  “Well, I—I really don’t think the hallway…”

  He pursed his lips, his gaze leveled on her as he stepped back.

  However meager his invitation had been, she accepted it, closing the door at her back. “May we sit?”

  He indicated the room. It was small, with few amenities. “Would you prefer the bed or the chair?”

  She frowned. “The chair,” she told him firmly.

  When she was seated in the tall wingback chair, she tugged her jacket to a more modest position over her breasts while he was taking a seat opposite her at the foot of his bed.

  Once seated, he waited quietly as she crossed her legs and then uncrossed them, trying to think of how to word what she had to say.

  He watched her with a curious frown, looking all too relaxed, with his knees wide, close enough to touch the outside of hers. His hands, fingers spread, rested on the patchwork quilt, propping him up.

  Tess noticed that his hair was slightly damp from a shower. She could detect the fragrance of soap, but no cologne. He was wearing gray linen slacks, gray deck shoes and a gray sweatshirt that looked soft but manly. She noticed the scent of leather, now, too. She liked the combination of bath soap and leather, clean and extremely masculine.

  “What did you want to talk about, Tessa Jane?” Cord finally asked, making her jump.

  After regrouping her wits, she defiantly jutted her chin at him. “You’re not going to like it.”

  His lips quirked sardonically, as if to say, So what else is new?

  When he didn’t actually voice the sarcastic question, she rushed on. “You—you were very unfair to take advantage of me on the boat yesterday.” She tossed her hair back over her shoulder, daring him with a narrowed, angry stare to deny her charge.

 
; His eyes widened slightly for just an instant. But he didn’t offer any defense.

  Trying to ignore the flash of incredulity in his gaze, she hurried on, “I told you, in a moment of weakness, about my need to be not needed.” Highly agitated, she got to her feet and found herself trapped between his spread legs. Deciding to use her captivity to her advantage, she poked him in the shoulder. “It was small and cruel of you to use that knowledge to seduce me.”

  Cord lowered his silver-tipped lashes but said nothing. His lack of defense seemed to give her argument strength, so she pressed on, deciding to tell him what she had originally planned to say when she’d come to his room the last time, on Sunday afternoon.

  “And furthermore—” she poked “—I want you to cut out your interference with Nolan and me. Life has taught me that love is a trade-off. If you want something, you have to give something back. That is, if you’re not a total egotist.”

  His gaze had grown steady and thoughtful as he listened. Unwilling to maintain eye contact with a man who was now filled with obvious pity, she quickly dropped her gaze and paced away from him.

  Reaching the wall, she whirled on him again. She didn’t want pity from him. She wanted peace! Damn him!

  Without thinking, she lashed out, “I gave something to you once. And all I got for my trouble was a ride home and a lecture!” Her voice broke on the last word. Hating her show of weakness, she spun away to collect herself.

  When she turned back, he was towering over her, too near for clear thinking. She cast tormented eyes up to meet his and was stunned by the stark unhappiness in his face.

  “I failed you, Tessa Jane.” He spoke her name gently and took her hand in his. “I was a bastard, but I was a kid then, too, confused and upset. I’m really sorry I couldn’t give you what you wanted. But I didn’t know you. How could I love you?”

  Reluctantly, she saw the logic in his hushed remark. As he led her to sit with him on the edge of the bed, she examined his strong, angular face, recalling the heavenly feel of those lips against hers and wishing the image would disappear forever.

  When they were seated, their knees touching, he pulled both of her hands on his lap. “Did you know that you’re the only virgin I’ve ever made love to?”

  She stared dumbly.

  “The only blot on my record.” His chuckle was bitter, self-deprecating. “You see, what I do in the Indian Ocean is important work. Even in high school I knew my chosen career would require all my energy, leaving no room for entanglements.”

  A bleak expression came into her eyes and Cord felt that same, odd tenderness he’d felt toward her last night when he’d gone after his guitar. Unable to resist the urge, he kissed her forehead. When she’d realized his intention, she’d drawn back, but only slightly.

  With his lips still brushing her fragrant skin, he told her honestly, “I disagree that love has to be a tradeoff. I know it’s none of my business, but we’ve been through enough together that I’ve earned the right to tell you how I feel.”

  As their gazes touched again, he warned gently, “Don’t give up your dreams of freedom for some nebulous concept of security, Tessa Jane. You won’t be happy in the long run.”

  He looked so genuinely concerned that she softened, amazed that with a brief kiss and a few supportive words, he could turn her to putty.

  Her smile was slow and reticent. “I didn’t mean to get back on that old hayride thing. Really…” she mumbled. “I mean, yesterday just got me so upset, and when Nolan—” She stopped herself. She had no intention of saying anything about his marriage proposal. Not after the speech Cord had just made. “What I’m trying to say is, I know you’re not a bad guy. It’s just that I’m feeling guilty and it’s eating me up. Last night was tough for me, facing Nolan and being, well, being ‘up’ and all….”

  “I noticed,” Cord cut in, the mildness in his expression evaporating. “And just why did you feel you needed to be up for Nolan? Didn’t you hear anything I just said? Why can’t the man ever be up for you?”

  She frowned. “This is different. I’m the manager of the inn. It’s my job to be up.”

  “No, it’s not. It’s your job to make sure sewage doesn’t back up into the bathtubs and that the staff isn’t made up of serial killers. It’s not your job to be Jay Leno.”

  She blanched. “What are you talking about? I’m just being what I need to be to—”

  “Get approval?” he asked, cutting her off.

  She stared, confused. “No. I…”

  His laughter was harsh. “You’re using people, too, you know. That’s why you work so hard all the time—to get approval. Why in hell do you want the whole damned world’s approval, anyway?”

  She jerked her hands from his, lashing back, “Well, I’ll tell you one thing, I’m certainly not looking for your approval!”

  “Fine,” he retorted. “You don’t need my approval. With or without it, you’re still a very worthwhile person.”

  His defusing comment took Tess completely by surprise. She’d always thought of herself as not quite worthwhile. Her mother had gone off and died on her, and all Tess’s work and devotion hadn’t been enough to console her father, who’d drunk himself to death.

  Her aunt Jewel, who at the time had been rapidly going blind, had needed Tess, and appreciated her taking over the floundering inn. But Tess had been well aware of the fact that she had been thrust on her aunt, there being no other relative to take her in. So she’d tried hard to be worthy of her aunt’s generosity, working night and day to earn her love. Funny, until just this minute, she’d never considered the possibility that she was using people, in a way, to satisfy her own need to be loved.

  Cord relented, smiling at her. “You’re a classy woman, Tess. I respect you. I like you, but, sweetheart, I don’t need you.”

  There was a lovely irony to Cord’s declaration. He didn’t need her. Something like sunshine began to glow deep inside Tess’s breast, radiating outward to warm her limbs and make her eyes shimmer with gratitude. She found herself smiling back at him, really smiling. “Some people might say that was an insulting remark,” she told him quietly.

  His gaze wandered over her face before he began to stroke her cheek. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t say I didn’t want you.”

  With his husky rejoinder, her smile faded and she abruptly resumed the struggle with her jacket.

  He was struck by the brief shadow of vulnerability he glimpsed in her eyes, and felt himself tremble involuntarily. In spite of all his honorable intentions, he drew her to him. Her sweet, sad lips promised undeniable pleasures. “I hate it when the things I say make you unhappy,” he whispered, his voice raspy with regret.

  Before she had time to respond, he brushed her neck with his lips.

  She sat there motionless, lost in the mesmerizing power of his clever, ravenous mouth. Her lips opened in a silent oh. She could feel herself melting at his touch, but she had no desire to move away. Still, she tried to grasp at the last remnants of common sense.

  “I—” she swallowed “—knew it was a mistake to wear this outfit,” she half sighed, half moaned. “I knew it would come to no good to face you in anything less than a suit of armor.”

  “Why did you, then?” he queried, the timbre of his voice lower.

  “I don’t—” she groaned, unable to finish. The barest touch of his lips at the corner of her mouth made her feel woozy. Her whimper of denial and desire was swallowed up by Cord’s hungry mouth as he took possession of hers with a sudden sly ferocity that left her shaking. Nothing mattered now but the distressing yet exquisite pleasure he was coaxing from her as his tongue laid claim to the intimate recesses of her mouth.

  She moaned, helpless to intercede in her own defense, as he slid the collar of her jacket away and slowly trailed his lips down to nibble at her shoulder.

  He brushed her hands away from their death grip on her jacket and boldly cupped a breast, his thumb rubbing the taut bud of her nipple. “If you wore
this just to drive me crazy, Tessa Jane, you’ve succeeded,” he said, his voice breathless.

  Some nasty little imp in the back of her mind was tittering with laughter. It knew that Tessa Jane Mankiller had selected this jumpsuit with special care this morning. It also knew that Tessa Jane Mankiller was the foolish, perhaps even deliberate, author of her own destruction. Why hadn’t she caught on before it was too late?

  Cord had taken the slender strap in his teeth and was slipping it off her shoulder as his hands busied themselves with the zipper at her back. By the time the other strap had been lowered, Tess was lying on her back.

  As gently as if he were folding back the wrapping on a precious gift, Cord lowered her bodice to display her breasts. Dipping his head, he placed a sweet kiss in the valley between them, paying silent homage to her beauty. Tess responded with as much charged energy as if he’d ripped her bodice open.

  With a pained little cry, she wrapped her arms about him, pressing his face into her softness, wanting him to feast on her until she was completely devoured. As he enjoyed her womanly offerings, she relished the various textures of the man, the juxtaposition of soft and hard, the softness of his sweatshirt, the hardness of muscle beneath.

  A flush of desire flooded her body. She could tell that Cord, too, was deeply affected. He felt feverish, tense beneath her hands. She could practically feel his nerves jumping under his skin.

  Witnessing his arousal ignited all the erotic emotions she’d been working to control. It would do no good to waste energy damning the little imp within her that had orchestrated her latest downfall. She realized now that nothing on earth could have prevented her from knowing this man’s touch again. Chemistry being what it was, she was becoming resigned to the idea that there was no hope for sane thinking while Cord Redigo was within touching distance.

  She gasped as his teeth teased a nipple, and she licked her lips in concert with the movement of his tongue. Her core was glowing, throbbing mercilessly with hot need.