by Lora Leigh
Sitting on the other side of the boys was her friend, Greg James. He had driven from Dallas with her the morning before to keep her company. Greg was nearly as tall as Cade’s six feet four inches, but he wasn’t nearly as comfortable with his height. He stooped his shoulders often to hide it, and complained regularly that he would be a string bean all his life. He wasn’t a jock, and often bemoaned that fact.
Greg had thick, dark blond hair and hazel green eyes. He wore glasses in thin wire frames, and had more of an academic, rather than forceful male, demeanor. Marly thought he was the nicest guy she knew. He was quiet and considerate, and never made the crude advances that the other young men at school did. He was talkative once you got past the shyness, and had an amazing depth of loyalty. It was nearly as deep as that of Cade and his brothers. But, he was extremely uncomfortable right now. As though Cade’s tension reached out across the seats and smothered him. As she thought about it, Marly didn’t doubt it. Cade was more than intimidating, but usually the attitude didn’t bleed over to her or to company. Until Grandpa Joe’s death. Now he was hardly speaking to her. And that hurt Marly more than anything. In the eight years she had lived with him, Cade had never distanced himself from her this way.
Breathing deeply, Marly crossed her legs and went back to staring out the window. She smiled slightly as Sam made some comment to Brock. The sight of her straight, perfect teeth flashed in the image created in the window. It still amazed her how determined Cade had been that she not be ridiculed for her teeth when she was a child. It had been their first trip out of the house. The second had been for new clothes. Cade had always been there for her, no matter what. Fixing childhood aches, and soothing bitter tears.
Cade wasn’t going to allow her to help him though, no matter how much he might need her now. But he was letting her sit next to him, crowding her against the door when there was plenty of seat for him to sit in. His thigh rubbed hers, and if she wanted, she could lay her head on his broad shoulder.
“Hey Munchkin, where did you get those legs?” Sam was looking at her legs as he spoke, acting as though he hadn’t seen them before, shocking her from her thoughts.
His light blue gaze was curious, and frankly admiring as it traveled along her foot to where her thighs disappeared beneath the skirt.
Marly looked down frowning, wondering what was wrong. Surely she hadn’t already snagged the new silk stockings?
“What’s wrong with my legs?” she asked him, turning one this way and that to see what he was talking about.
“Hell, you finally grew some,” he teased. “I hadn’t noticed before. Damn fine ones too.”
Marly looked up at him with the intention of blasting him, but seeing the near desperation in his eyes, she grinned instead. Cade’s silences affected the other two men as well as they did her.
“You’re as silly as ever, Sam.” She shook her head. And he was. Sam was their prankster, and everyone loved him. Even at twenty-eight, he hadn’t fully matured and stated often that he did not intend to ever do so.
“Marly has the prettiest legs in college.” Greg spoke up earnestly then, as he cast Marly a shy look. His admiration only earned him one of Cade’s fierce glares.
The look was darker than any Marly could remember seeing in a while. His eyes narrowed, his jaw jutting forward in a challenging motion. She was shocked. She had received compliments often in his presence over the years. Never before had he reacted so strongly to them.
“Marly’s legs are not up for discussion,” he informed them all darkly, the gray in his eyes darkening dangerously.
Sam gave Brock a knowing look. The other brother only shook his head as Marly looked on in confusion. She had no idea what kind of problem those two had.
Silence lapsed once again. An uncomfortable, heavy silence. You didn’t mess with Cade when his voice got dangerous like that. Even Marly was extremely careful, for the most part. Shrugging, she crossed her legs, adjusting the hem of her short skirt as she did so to cover her thighs and staring out the window once again.
She saw him glance at her legs as his image reflected in the dark, tinted glass. His frown became darker. Then his gaze rose, taking in the long French braid of her hair, and her own refection as she stared back at him. Her eyes were wide, her lips parted, and Marly knew she looked as entranced by him as she always was. Cade’s dark good looks, and muscular body had always taken her breath.
“That skirt is too short, Marly,” he told her, his voice still dark and deadly. “I thought I just forwarded you enough money for new clothes?”
“This is new, Cade,” she told him as she turned back to him, facing his wrath directly. “Shorter skirts are in style.”
The thigh high, navy blue skirt, and matching jacket-style blouse was one of her favorites. Matching heels accompanied the outfit, and lifted her several inches taller than her normal five foot four inches.
“It barely covers your ass,” he bit out.
Marly flushed as Greg’s expression now reflected astonishment.
“Ignore him Greg, he never really bites. He just likes to bark a lot. Sort of like the junk yard dog you talk about all the time.” Marly ignored the muffled laughs from the other two men, as well as the anger that lit Cade’s eyes.
“Uh—umm—the dog bites too, Marly,” Greg told her warningly as he glanced in apprehension at Cade. “Really hard.”
“Well, Cade won’t bite you, Greg. And if he dares try to bite me, then he just might find out I bite back.” She shot him a fierce glare. “So stop trying to intimidate me and my friends, Cade.”
Cade arched one black brow as the gray in his eyes shifted, like thunderclouds moving into alignment. It made her nervous when they did that, made her want to run and hide. But she was determined not to run any longer.
“I never try at anything, Marly,” he reminded her darkly, his smile all teeth and no warmth. “You would do well to remember that. If I wanted to intimidate you, I would succeed.”
“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” she replied sweetly, “I’m merely telling you to stop.”
He watched her curiously now, as though her newfound sass intrigued him.
“Damn, Marly’s getting teeth,” Sam murmured, earning him his own ‘Cade’ glare. “Sorry Cade.” He shrugged, but Marly caught the careful control of his grin.
Silence descended once again. It was uncomfortable, suffocating.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here before yesterday, Cade,” she told him softly; afraid that was the reason he was angry with her. He had been unable to get hold of her. She and several of her friends were at Greg’s that night, studying for a test. She hadn’t learned of Grandpa Joe’s death until the next morning.
“There was nothing you could have done.” He shook his head.
“I could have been here for you.” She laid her hand on his arm. “I would have been.”
He looked down at her hand lying on his muscular arm as though surprised she had touched him.
“The will was read the night before you returned home,” Cade informed her suddenly. “I’m sorry, but Joe never got around to changing it—”
“I never expected him to leave me anything.” Marly moved her hand back at his cold tone. “He hadn’t liked me from day one. So it doesn’t matter.”
It merely reaffirmed what she knew. Grandpa Joe had truly hated her. Hated her so much, that he was determined that nothing he had would go to the little waif he had taken in. Sometimes, she wondered why he had done so at all.
“It wasn’t dislike,” Cade began.
“No, it was hatred,” Marly rebutted. “And there’s no sense in us arguing over it now that he’s gone. I didn’t want anything he had. I want nothing you have. That’s why I’m going to college, to learn how to provide for myself.”
Cade sighed.
“You’ll always be taken care of Marly, I’ve ensured that,” he told her softly. “You won’t have to struggle.”
“Then you can unensure it,” she told him c
almly. “Because I don’t want it, Cade.”
Greg was practically gaping at them now, drawing Cade’s fierce look once again. He dropped his gaze, but his brown eyes were still rounded with surprise.
“I could have sent the limo,” Cade muttered, and she knew he was talking about her decision to bring Greg. Marly frowned at his rude behavior. She had never known Cade to act so surly, so hard to get along with.
“So you could have. But I didn’t want to be alone Cade, and no one was offering to come after me.”
That had hurt her. Marie, their former housekeeper, and now sometimes cook, had been the one who had informed her of Grandpa Joe’s death, Cade had been unable to even place the second call, or leave a message in her apartment. She knew he would have been busy. But she also knew he would have been considerate enough to do it for Sam and Brock.
“If you had asked, one of us would have,” he told her quietly, glancing at her in surprise.
“Had I been offered, I may have taken you up on it,” she snapped back. “But I wasn’t, and I didn’t want to ride alone. Greg kindly offered to come with me.”
Marly smiled sweetly at Greg in thankfulness. She watched in amazement as his chest seemed to puff out two extra inches. What the hell was up with this? Evidently, Cade saw it too, if his look of disgust was anything to go by. Sam barely contained his mirth as she glanced at him, frowning. Brock, as always, was quiet, but when his glance met hers, Marly saw the edge of amusement in it.
Marly shook her head at them all. The moon phases must be really out of whack today, she thought. Every man she had met with seemed to act like they had rocks for brains. It was disconcerting to say the least.
* * * * *
Cade didn’t know why he was so furious with Marly. It wasn’t her fault that the old man had a nasty, perverted mind, or that he was a depraved monster. That he had seen emotions and needs in Cade that couldn’t, shouldn’t be there. It wasn’t her fault that her legs were gorgeous, and any man with eyes in his head would be more than impressed. It wasn’t her fault he could barely control his own body’s response to her, or the swift hardening of flesh between his thighs every time he saw her.
She had been raised as his niece. She was growing up whether he wanted to admit to it or not. She had likely already had sex, most girls her age had. Cade wanted to clench his fists at that thought, and barely restrained the need. She may even be having sex with the little punk sitting across from him.
Cade stared at the boy, not caring as that narrow face paled and the hazel eyes widened behind the lenses of the glasses. Greg swallowed tight and hard, giving Cade a measure of satisfaction.
“Please, Cade—” Marly’s voice wrapped around his fury, pleading, desperate.
Biting back an oath, Cade stared resolutely into the tinted glass that separated the driver from the family. He was in a lousy mood and he knew it. He wasn’t fit company for man or horse, and he should have driven himself to the cemetery alone. But Marly was riding with the family, and he was damned if he hadn’t missed her this past year and a half since she started college.
She only came home infrequently, despite the short distance to Dallas. Christmas, Easter and birthdays. Three weeks total if you added it, and he hated it. The house was so still, so silent without her laughter, or her girlish tantrums. No more Marly sneaking into his study at night when nightmares plagued her to sleep on the couch while he worked. He wondered who soothed the nightmares now. His gaze sliced to the James boy, but his head was lowered as he stared in fascination at a loose thread on his jacket. The little jerk.
Cade hadn’t expected her to arrive with a friend. And he sure as hell hadn’t expected a male friend, considering how wary she was of men. She always had been, since her stepfather, and her Grandpa Joe.
Cade’s teeth gritted with renewed fury. She carried a scar on her leg from the first and only whipping she had ever received in his house. A whipping Joe had administered that first month Marly had lived with them. Cade would never forget his horror that day when Marie had run screaming to the barn that Mister Joe was whipping Miss Marly. Oh God, Mr. Cade, she had screamed, he’s gonna kill her.
Cade had rushed to the house, horrified to see his father beating the tiny girl with a leather strap. Joe had been enraged, furious, demented with anger. Cade had nearly killed him that day.
He had whipped her when he overheard her telling Marie that some little boy at school had attempted to kiss her. An innocent kiss on the cheek by a child with a crush on her, and Marly had paid in a way that left her unable to attend school for two weeks, until the deep bruises and lacerations on her legs and buttocks healed.
“Cade?” Her worried voice interrupted his thoughts, her soft hand on his arm made his skin heat. “Are you okay?”
He covered her hand slowly as his head turned and he gazed into the deep pools of those mysterious blue eyes. She drew him in, her innocence and lack of guile soothing the raging beast in his soul. How in the name of God would he survive when she left again?
“I’m fine, honey,” he sighed, his hand covering hers, holding it close to him when she would have moved it. “Just thoughtful. I’m sorry I’ve been such a grouch.”
Her head went to his shoulder, strands of riotous curls falling over his chest where they had escaped from her braid. He laid his cheek against her silken hair and breathed her scent in deeply.
“It’s okay, Cade. I understand.” It wasn’t a little girl’s voice anymore. A child years younger than her actual age as she had been when she came to them.
The voice was sweet and lyrical. A woman’s voice, and he knew from watching that damned James boy what it did to the male race to hear the sexy sound.
“I’ve missed you, Munchkin.” He sighed against her hair, feeling a sense of warmth replacing the cold knot of fury that had filled him.
“I’ve missed you too, Cade.” There was a note of regret in her voice. A sigh of wanting that he didn’t want to delve into too closely.
Stretching his arm behind her, he pulled her close to his chest as the limo moved towards the ranch. The cemetery Joe had wanted to be laid in was hours from the ranch, and completely disconnected from it. Joe had no friends; no family laid to rest in that hallowed ground. He had wanted nothing to do with the ranch at his death, having hated it so much during his life.
Marly’s hand was laid at his chest now, just below her head. Trusting, warm, she lay against him, a fragile weight as cherished to him as any could be. He couldn’t imagine never having her in his life, not needing to hold her, to be assured she was okay. She was still tiny, barely five four to his six four. She was slender and light, with a thick mass of black curls that flowed past her shoulder blades and very nearly to her hips. She didn’t cut it because he loved it so much. She had sworn over the years that if it weren’t for Cade, she would have shaved her head bald.
And he did love her hair. When she was little, Cade had brushed and braided it every day until she was sixteen and started getting fussier with her it. Even then, though, there were times she would ask him to brush her hair. Many times when she sought him out in his study deep in the night, she would carry the silver brush he had bought her. She would lay it on the table beside the couch, and he would come to her and brush her hair until she could sleep.
And on that couch, she would sleep until he went to bed. Then he would carry her to her own room, tuck her into the lacy canopied bed and kiss her cheek before going to his own room. The last time he had done so had been the night before she left for college. The nightmares had been bad that week.
“I want to stay home a while,” she whispered now against his chest. “Spring break starts tomorrow, and I thought I’d just stay on until school starts back.”
She had been spending the breaks studying, pushing herself through summer and holidays in her studies.
“Stay home with us then, honey,” he answered her, ignoring Sam and Brock as they watched them quizzically. “You can let your friend take
your truck back, and I’ll drive you back to school when you need to return.”
“No, Greg needs a break too.” She yawned as his arms tightened against her. “We’re both gonna stay. Do you care?”
Cade moved his gaze slowly to the suddenly nervous Greg James.
“Th—th—that’s okay, Marly,” Greg stammered. “Really. Fine. I can go back.”
“Absolutely not.” Marly shook her head against Cade’s chest. “I remember how excited you were about spending the week here. We’ll stay and just laze around and enjoy ourselves. Besides, you know you don’t want to return to your sister’s house.”
Cade read a thread of anger in Marly’s comment. The boy just shrugged and looked at Cade beseechingly. Dammit, did all kids have that look in their eye, that plea for understanding when faced with Marly’s resolve?
“You’re welcome to stay, Greg.” Cade wasn’t about to incite Marly and cause her to move from his hold.
It had been too long since she had let him hold her. He didn’t want the boy there. Didn’t want to know if his sweet, innocent Marly was sleeping with such an incompetent youth, but he would allow the visit to keep his tenuous hold on her now.
“Thank you.” There was a vein of regret, of deeply laced loneliness in the boy’s voice.
Dammit, Cade thought, another kid was the last thing he needed right now. Marly made him crazy enough. She didn’t need help. He didn’t need someone else helping her to push him over the edge. She was doing just fine all on her own.
Chapter Three
Dawn was barely streaking across the horizon the next morning when Marly ventured from her room and headed for the kitchen. Cade would most likely be up and gone already, but she knew he always made a fresh pot of coffee before leaving the house for Sam and Brock. It was a cup of the strong, heady brew she was after.
Still dressed in the big shirt and thick heavy socks she had stolen from Cade the day before, she padded drowsily into the room. The socks dwarfed her small feet, but kept them warm and snug. The shirt fell almost to her knees, the soft tan cotton covering her well, and making her feel closer to Cade somehow. She rarely slept in anything other than his shirts.