by Diana Palmer
“She must hate me,” Ivy said aloud.
“She was jealous of you,” he corrected flatly.
“Oh, sure, I’m such a peach of a beauty, why wouldn’t she be?” she asked sarcastically.
He reached out and tugged a lock of her hair. “Stop that. You’re no ugly duckling, except in your own mind. But I wasn’t talking about looks. Rachel was jealous because of the way you are with people. You’re always looking for the best in people, making them feel good about them selves, making them feel important. You never gossip or tell lies, and you’re always around if anyone’s in trouble or grieving. Rachel has never given a damn for anyone except herself. You made her feel inferior, and she hated you for it.”
“She was beautiful,” she said. “All the boys loved her.”
“Even boys you tried to date,” he added, as if he knew. He nodded. “Yes, I heard about that, too. Rachel delighted in stealing away any boy you brought home. She turned your girl friends against you, everyone except Merrie. She told Merrie some whoppers about your social life.” He looked away, his body stiffening. It didn’t take a mind reader to know that Merrie had repeated the lies to him.
“I’m amazed you didn’t forbid Merrie to have anything to do with me.”
“I did,” he said surprisingly, glancing at her. “She wouldn’t listen, of course. And I stopped pressuring her about it when I realized how badly Rachel had lied about your character.”
She knew what he was talking about, and it made her uneasy. He was remembering what a novice she was in a man’s arms.
“Copper doesn’t usually talk about patients,” he continued. “But we’re second cousins as well as good friends, and I’ve felt responsible for you since your father’s death. He thought I should know about your home life. Just in case Rachel ever came down here and tried to start trouble. He didn’t know I’d already gotten the news from a private detective I hired.”
She couldn’t look at him. It felt as if all the bruises and lacerations were plainly visible to anyone looking.
“You’ve never talked about it, have you?”
She shook her head. “Not even to Merrie.”
“Merrie is more perceptive than you realize. She knew why you covered your legs when you went to school. You didn’t want anyone to see the bruises he left on you with that doubled-up belt.”
She bit her lower lip and looked up at him. She was remembering what Merrie had said about his own childhood, and how his father had punished him for refusing to give his life to football.
“You got your share, too, didn’t you?” she asked quietly.
He hesitated for a moment. His dark brows drew together. “Yes,” he replied finally. “I’ve never talked about it to anyone outside my family. The memories sting, even now.”
“They would have locked my father up and thrown away the key if he’d done it today.”
“Mine, too,” he agreed. He smiled faintly. “Our fathers would probably be occupying ad joining jail cells.” He sighed and traced a pattern at her throat, making her heart beat throb. “Nobody’s using a belt on my kids.”
“Mine, either,” she replied at once.
He smiled down at her. “We’re all products of our upbringing. Pity we don’t get to choose our relatives.”
“You can say that again.” She searched his eyes. “Rachel isn’t afraid of anything except losing her chance to act in a starring role on Broadway. But if she gets caught up in a public scandal, it will kill her career stone dead. And she might go to prison for drug dealing. I don’t know what she’d do if she had all that to contend with. She’s not very strong emotionally.”
“Only when she’s on the receiving end,” he agreed. “But she chose her own path, Ivy. We all do. Then we take the consequences of those choices.”
She cocked her head. “What path did you choose that had consequences?”
“It was one I didn’t choose,” he said enigmatically. His hand slid under the silken fist of hair at her nape, warm and strong. “But we’ve done enough talking for one night.”
As he spoke, he tugged her face gently under his. “Don’t panic,” he whispered against her mouth as his lips teased at it. “There are some things you just can’t do in bucket seats…”
She went under in a daze of throbbing pleasure. It was like the first time he’d held her and kissed her, but much more explosive. The long years between kisses made her bold, made her hungry. She slid her arms around his neck and opened her mouth under his. He groaned. A shudder went through him. He hesitated, but only for a split second. Then he gathered her up whole and dragged her over the console and into his lap, and the kisses grew harder and more in sis tent.
She felt his big hand under the neckline of her gown, gently tracing patterns down into the soft flesh under her bra. She gasped.
He lifted his head and looked into her wide, shocked eyes, with affection ate amusement. “Think of it as exploration into new territory,” he teased gently. “You’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
“And you’re offering to guide me through the undergrowth?” she gasped.
“Frilly under growth,” he murmured, looking down at the quick beat of her heart that was echoed in the trembling of her bodice as her pulse in creased madly.
“I’m not sure,” she began breathlessly.
“Neither am I,” he agreed as he bent again to her mouth. “But it’s been a long, dry spell and I’ve waited as long as I can and stay sane.”
While she was trying to figure that out, his mouth opened on her parted lips and his hand trespassed right under her bra onto her soft flesh with a sureness and mastery that chased any thought of protest right out of her head. She clung to him and gave in to the sweet ness of the moment.
CHAPTER SIX
JUST as Ivy was seeing stars, there was the purr of a big cat somewhere in the jungle of pleasure she was exploring.
Stuart must have heard it, too, because he raised his head and frowned as he looked into the rearview mirror. “I don’t believe it!” he burst out.
She followed his gaze and saw flashing blue lights coming at break neck speed right down the dirt road behind them.
“Hayes!” he muttered, and let out a word that made her blush.
The all-white Jacobs County Sheriff’s car pulled up past them, whipped around, and came back again, so that Hayes and Stuart were facing each other through open drivers’ windows. In the time it had taken Hayes to turn around, Ivy had slid discreetly back into her own seat, straightened her clothing and smoothed her hair. She was grateful that it was dark, so that Hayes wouldn’t be able to see the lingering traces of Stuart’s demanding passion on her lips and hair.
“Aren’t you a little far out of your territory?” Stuart drawled. “This is my land.”
Hayes just stared at him. “We flushed a drug transport with three armed men inside,” he said at once. “We got two of them, but one escaped not far from here. He’s carrying an automatic weapon.”
“Good God,” Stuart exclaimed.
“I didn’t think he’d be driving a Jag,” he continued dryly, “but you can’t rule out a car jacking. And this car was all alone in a field.” He scowled. “What the hell are the two of you doing out here?”
“Talking about DNA profiles,” Stuart shot back.
Hayes pursed his lips. “Oooookay,” he said, but clearly not believing it. “Just the same, I’d take her home, if I were you. These guys don’t play nice. One of my deputies is in the emergency room with a bullet in his hip.”
“I hope you get them,” Stuart said.
“Me, too. See you.”
He roared away, sirens still going.
Stuart glanced wryly at Ivy. “I suppose we’ve talked enough for one night. I don’t fancy fighting off drug dealers at this hour.”
“Neither do I,” she agreed, but there was disappointment about having to come down from the clouds. It had been a sweet few minutes.
“I’m not anxious to leave, eith
er, Ivy,” he said as he started the car. “But there’s a time and place, and this isn’t it.”
With that enigmatic statement, he pulled the car back into the highway, and sped toward her boarding house. They arrived there too soon.
He got out of the car, opened her door and walked her to her front door. He noted the quick flutter of a curtain with an amused smile, and then positioned them where no windows intruded. He took her by the waist and looked down into her sad eyes in the porch light. “I shouldn’t have told you about your father like that,” he said apologetically. “I’m sorry.”
“The tabloids wouldn’t have been very kind about it, if I’d had to hear it from them,” she said philosophically. “Thanks for the heads-up.”
His big hands tightened on her small waist. “Go see Copper,” he coaxed. “He’ll do what he can to help you find out, one way or another. I’ll take care of the bill. I’ll tell him that, too,” he added.
“All right.”
“And don’t worry yourself to death about your sister,” he said firmly. “If the situation was reversed, I promise she wouldn’t waste a night’s sleep about you.”
“I know that. But she’s still the only family I have left in the world.”
He drew in an audible breath. “That doesn’t help, I’m sure.” He bent and brushed his mouth gently over her soft, sensitized lips. She stood on her tiptoes to increase the pressure, shivering a little when he accepted the silent invitation and gathered her in close, so that they were riveted together, hip to hip.
She’d never known such pleasure. It felt as sweet as it had in his car, but much more intense. Her nails dug into the hard muscles of his shoulders as she gave in to the sheer delight of being close to him.
When she moaned, he drew back. His hands were briefly cruel as he fought the need to back her into the wall and devour her. He had to force himself to let her go.
She saw that, and was fascinated by the sudden change in him. It was so sweet to kiss him, beyond her wildest dreams of delight.
“We can’t do much more of that,” he whispered. “Not in public.”
“Are we in public?” she whispered back, dazed.
He drew in a long breath. “If I don’t stop kissing you, we’re going to be. It’s sweet, Ivy. Sweeter than my dreams.”
“Sweeter than mine, too,” she confessed, aching to have his mouth on hers again.
He knew that, but he had to be strong for both of them. It wasn’t the place. He held her gently by the waist. “I have to fly to Denver for a conservation workshop. I’ll call you when I get there.”
She stared up at him with her heart flipping around. Her surprise was noticeable.
He searched her wide eyes. “Times change. So do people. You’re twenty-one next month, aren’t you?”
She nodded, spell bound.
He looked very somber for a minute. “Still years too young,” he murmured as he bent his head. “But what the hell…”
He lifted her up against him and kissed her until her mouth felt bruised. She didn’t complain. She held on for dear life, her arms tight around his neck, her feet just barely touching the floor at all. If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.
When she moaned softly, he put her back on her feet and let her go abruptly. His breathing was noticeably faster. “Stay out of trouble,” he told her.
“I don’t ever get into trouble,” she replied dimly, her eyes on his hard mouth.
He smiled slowly. “Yes, but that was before.”
“Before what?” she asked.
He bent and kissed her quickly. “Before me. Lock the door behind you.”
He was walking away before she realized what he’d said. He was hinting at a new relationship between them. It made her breath catch in her throat. Her eyes followed him hungrily all the way to his car. He started it and turned on the lights, but he didn’t budge. Finally she realized that he wasn’t going until she was inside. She smiled at that protectiveness, which was so alien to their relationship. She waved, went inside and closed the door. Only when she turned off the porch light did she hear the car driving away.
Next morning at break fast, Mrs. Brown and Lita were beaming at her, both affectionately amused.
“Have fun last night, dear?” Mrs. Brown asked. “I noticed that Sheriff Hayes didn’t bring you home. Wasn’t that Stuart York’s car?”
“Yes, it was,” Ivy confessed, and hated the warm color that blushed her cheeks. “Hayes had a call and had to leave.”
“We heard on the radio that there was a shootout,” Lita said. “Deputy Clark was admitted to the hospital with a gunshot wound.”
“So was one of the suspects,” Mrs. Brown said shortly. “They said Hayes got him.”
“We saw him on the way home,” Ivy confessed, but not how they’d seen him, or where. “He said the deputy was shot in the hip. He didn’t mention the drug dealers getting shot, too.”
“It was the one who went missing when they stopped the truck,” Mrs. Brown said. “My daughter works as a dispatcher,” she reminded the other women. “She said he was hiding in a chicken coop just off the highway. Hayes saw chickens flying out of the coop and went to investigate.” She chuckled. “People shut their chickens up at sunset to keep them from getting eaten by foxes or raccoons. Nobody turns them out at night. Sure enough, there was this miserable little drug dealer, hiding there. He shot at Hayes and missed. Hayes didn’t.”
Ivy shook her head. “He takes so many chances,” she said. “It will take a brave woman to marry him.”
“Probably why no woman ever has,” Lita remarked. “He was always a hothead, even when he was in high school. Always taking risks. He joined the police force when he was just seventeen. I guess his father influenced him.”
“His father was a lovely man,” Ivy remarked with a smile. “He loved flowers, did you know? He always had the most beautiful garden of them, and every body thought it was his wife who did all the planting. But it wasn’t.”
“I’ll bet Hayes doesn’t raise flowers,” Mrs. Brown remarked.
“He had a younger brother,” Lita continued, frowning, “who died of a drug overdose. You know, they never found the person who bought him that bad batch of cocaine that did him in. They say that Hayes is out to get his brother’s killer, that he’ll never quit until the drug dealer goes to prison.” She sighed. “He still thinks that Minette Raynor gave that drug to Bobby Carson, but I don’t. Minette isn’t the sort.”
Ivy nodded. “I know, but he won’t see it that way. He never stops once he’s got a suspect in view. That’s sort of scary, in a way.”
“Makes me feel safe,” Mrs. Brown chuckled. “I like knowing he doesn’t let criminals get away.”
“Me, too,” Ivy had to admit. But she was thinking about Stuart and their changed relationship, going through the motions of eating and behaving normally. Inside, she was blazing with new hungers, new hope.
She went out to see her clients that day, but she was missing Stuart and waiting, hoping, for a phone call. She knew that he could have been joking. Maybe he’d just said it to tease. But the look in his eyes on the porch had been possessive, acquisitive. Her heart jumped every time she remembered how that last, desperate kiss had felt. Surely something so powerful had to be shared. After all, she hadn’t been the only one breathing hard after the hungry kisses they’d shared. It was just that Stuart was older and more experienced. Maybe to him it was just a pleasant few minutes. To her, it was a taste of heaven.
Merrie called her at lunch time, just to talk. Ivy was having a sandwich at Barbara’s Café, but she didn’t taste it. When the phone rang, she jumped to pull it out of her purse and answer it. It had to be Stuart. It had to be!
“Hi,” Merrie said cheer fully.
“Oh. Hi,” Ivy replied, trying to compose herself and not let her disappointment show. “How are you?”
“Lonely. You need to come spend a weekend with me,” Merrie said. “I’m coming home next weekend. How
about it?”
Once, Ivy would have jumped at the chance. Now, she was keeping secrets from her best friend. She didn’t know whether she should agree. What she felt for Stuart might show, if she was under his roof. She didn’t want Merrie to see it. Not yet. It was too new, too private, too precious to share. And what if he didn’t want her around there at all? What if he’d just been playing some sophisticated game to which she didn’t know the rules? Her in securities floated to the top like cream in a churn.
“Ivy, you don’t have to worry about me,” Merrie said before Ivy could speak. Her tone was subdued, quiet. “I won’t interfere.”
“Excuse me?”
Merrie drew in a breath. “Hayes is a great catch.”
Ivy was speech less. “Hayes?”
“He seems to like you a lot. He was really happy last night.”
Now here was a problem she didn’t know how to resolve. She couldn’t admit that she was crazy about Merrie’s brother, for fear that her friend might tease Stuart or do something to make him draw back from Ivy. On the other hand, she wasn’t involved with Hayes and wasn’t ever likely to be.
“Hayes is very nice,” she compromised. “But he doesn’t want to get serious about anyone, and neither do I. I don’t want to get married for years yet. I want to enjoy being out on my own, and being single.”
There was another sigh, but this one sounded strange. “Then, you’re not involved with Hayes?”
“We’re friends, Merrie. That’s all.”
“I’m glad,” she said. “By the way, have you heard anything, about how he is?” Merrie added after a minute. “I heard that there was a shootout and someone got shot apprehending a drug dealer. Was it Hayes?”
“No!” Ivy said. “It was one of his deputies. One of the suspects got shot, too. Hayes is fine.”
“Thank God.”
“You’ve known Hayes a long time,” Ivy recalled.
“Yes, since he used to stay with us when his father and mother had to go out of town to see about her parents in Georgia. Even though he was Stuart’s friend, I always felt as if he were part of my family. He’s a lot older than me, of course. Like someone I know in San Antonio,” she added enigmatically.