Turning me back to him to get to the button on the jeans, his eyes fell on my breasts, and he drew a sharp breath. His hands drifted from the button to lift both breasts, a look of wonder on his face. Then he looked into my eyes, his shining. “When were you going to tell me?”
“Tell you what?” I asked absent-mindedly, my attention on the sensations his hands on my breasts were causing. He removed them, took my shoulders and gave me a little shake.
“Kitten, you’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Tears shone in his eyes, with a very contradictory ear-to-ear smile on his lips, tenderness lighting the whole.
I gasped. I had intended to tell him, but I wanted to choose my time. How had he known?
I looked up and him and asked the question, not bothering to deny it. “How did you…”
“Look at yourself,” he said, turning me toward the mirror. My nipples, once the palest shell-pink, had grown to twice their normal size and darkened to a deeper pink with a hint of brown. They puckered as I looked at them. Russ’s hands came around to cover them, then, as if he couldn’t help it, roll them both between his thumbs and ring fingers. The sight of his big, familiar hands on my body flooded me with desire.
“My god, woman, you are magnificent.”
That statement startled me out of my reverie. “You’re not mad?” I asked in a small voice.
Russ whirled me around to face him again and clutched me to his chest. “Mad? God, no. Do you understand what this means? Now you have to stay with me and let me take care of you. Please, Kitten, don’t tell me no again, I can’t take it. I won’t take it. You’re mine.”
“Okay, I won’t,” I said, but the words were muffled by his pecs where I had buried my face.
When Russ had collected himself, he finished the job of removing my clothes and handed me into the tub, which was now full of water. He turned on the jets, and took a washcloth from the nearby rack, filled it with fragrant bath wash and began to wash me, gently, all over. When it came to my breasts, though, he dropped the washcloth, saying he didn’t want anything to come between him and those founts of glory, which made me laugh and the afore-mentioned founts of glory to jiggle enticingly.
“God, woman, you’re killing me,” he said.
“Well, get in, then. There’s room.”
Russ lost no time in tearing off his clothes and getting into the tub with me, his erection bobbing invitingly. Naturally, I grabbed it.
“Gah, watch it! That thing’s loaded and it might go off.”
I laughed as I soaped my hand and proceeded to make sure his manly appendage was clean, telling him I didn’t want to risk putting any germs in with the baby. A look of wonder crossed his face again and he promptly wilted.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I know we can make love while you’re pregnant,” he said, “but maybe a jetted tub isn’t a good place.”
“Then let’s get out,” I retorted.
Russ helped me out, dried me carefully and tenderly, and then made love to me, barely restraining his need to drive into me like a bull . To say I liked it rough was an understatement, but this was the most intense Russ had ever been while in tender mode. It was as if he was trying, without manhandling me, to put his stamp on me once and for all, though the precious life inside me had already done that. Afterward, holding me gently, he apologized for any roughness and asked anxiously if I thought the baby was okay. Content and languorous from the orgasms I had missed so much, I hummed a light laugh.
“Of course,” I told him. “She’s only this big right now,” holding up my thumb and forefinger about half an inch apart.
“My god,” he muttered.
“Russ.”
“Yes, my love?” Oh, that was nice. I liked that endearment best of all.
“You asked what I want to do now.”
“I did. Please tell me you want me to take you home. My home, I mean.”
“I want you to take me home. Your home. But, there are conditions.”
“Anything.”
“I want a GED. I’ve never felt so useless in all my life. Even if I never go to college, I want to have something that shows I’m not a dropout.”
“We’ll get you online for the lessons and tests. I bet you could pass it without studying.”
“Self-educated doesn’t seem to count. And I’m well-read, but I don’t know a lot about math and science.”
“Okay. If you need a tutor, we’ll get one to come out from Rawlins. What else?”
I didn’t know how to ask the next favor, or even what I should ask for. I wanted to feel that Janet didn’t think me a gold-digger or worse for getting pregnant. After all, Russ had participated quite willingly, and he was responsible for the failure in birth control. Instead of asking, I stated, “Janet thinks I’m a gold-digger.”
“No, she doesn’t,” Russ said firmly. “She’s been as worried as I have. I know for a fact that she’ll accept you and the little one, and if she doesn’t, I’ll fire her.”
I gasped, “Russ, you can’t do that. She’s your family. That’s her home.”
Russ grinned at me. “Of course I wouldn’t do that. But it won’t come to that, I promise. What else?”
“I want to feel useful. I can’t live my life reading books, not even just until the baby is born. And I want to meet your parents, as soon as possible. They probably won’t like me under the circumstances, but this baby needs some decent grandparents.”
“We’ll take care of all of that, and they’ll love you. But, speaking of grandparents, what do you want to do about your mother?”
“I don’t know,” I muttered.
“Do you think she’d go to a clinic?” he asked.
“You mean, to dry out? Maybe. But then what would happen? She has no real skills, and I’ve discovered how difficult it is to get even a fast-food job these days.”
“She’ll come and live with us,” he stated confidently. I stared at him.
“You’d do that for me?”
“Kitten, how many times do I have to tell you that I’d do anything for you?”
“Until I believe it, I guess.”
“Believe it. We’ll stay here until we can make the arrangements for your mother, and then go back to the ranch, is that okay?”
“Thank you,” I said, breaking down again. Russ took me in his arms and just held me.
Since I had nothing but the clothes on my back with me, Russ insisted we return to Mom’s trailer to get my things and to tell her I’d be moving out. I suspected the information would go in one ear and out the other, and that she wouldn’t even notice if I just disappeared, but Russ was firm. Even if I didn’t respect her, it was clear that I loved her. And she deserved the consideration we would give to any other human being, including letting her know her only child was leaving. Put that way, I had to agree.
When we arrived, Mom was passed out, a bottle of Wild Turkey dangling dangerously from her hand. I took it from her gently and set it down, then shook her shoulder to wake her.
“Mom. Wake up, hon, I need to talk to you.”
Mom’s eyes opened, then closed again. “Who’s-at with you?”
Russ came forward and knelt by her chair. “Mrs. Brown, I’m Russ, remember? Charity’s friend? May I call you Elizabeth?”
Her eyes opened again and took a brief look at him. “Call me anything you want, handsome. What can I do for you?”
My stomach roiled, knowing she was propositioning him, but Russ remained steady. “Elizabeth, I’m going to take Charity with me now, okay?”
“’Kay.”
“We’ll be back tomorrow.”
“’Kay.”
With that, he rose and led me out, carrying the bags I had arrived with, sans most of the clothes. I hadn’t told him what I’d done with them, but would tell him everything tonight. I could only hope he wouldn’t be mad, but for now the relief I felt leaving that trailer made me almost giddy.
We arrived back at the hotel about the time my stomach
started growling. Russ laughed and remarked that I hadn’t lost my hearty appetite, which he had been afraid of when he saw how skinny I was. I warned him that morning sickness was just an expression, because it could hit at any time, and that I lost about half of what I ate on a normal day, though I’d been spared the indignity today.
“What can you eat?” he asked, concerned.
“It doesn’t seem to matter. One day I’ll keep greasy chili down, and then next I’ll throw up even the blandest food. We can have whatever you like.”
“Charity, have you seen a doctor?” I noticed that he called me Charity any time he was about to get bossy, so it didn’t surprise me when he was upset with my no answer.
“I haven’t had the money.” His mouth set in a straight line, he uttered a noise that sounded very much like ‘harrumph’ and told me we would correct that first thing, as soon as we were back at the ranch.
“Russ, I’m sorry that there isn’t any insurance to cover this. You know, it’s a pre-existing condition, ” I explained.
“Charity, sit down.” The command left no room for protest, so I promptly sat, looking at him expectantly.
“You know I’m wealthy, right?” he started.
I nodded, but said, “But I also know that cattle ranches are in trouble all over the US, especially privately-owned ones, as opposed to corporations. I’m not stupid, just uneducated, remember? I don’t want to be a burden to you.”
Russ was shaking his head. “Honey, the ranch is a hobby, it isn’t how I make my living.” I barely had time to absorb the idea of keeping three women and two dozen men on the payroll for a hobby when he went on. “You know about the internet, don’t you? I mean, I know you can’t have used it much, but you understand it, right?”
“I know some about it, yes,” I answered cautiously. Where this was going was a mystery, since we had been talking about his ranch and this came out of the blue.
“There’s a lot of money to be made on the internet and in services for people who use the internet. All of my businesses have something to do with it, from website design to internet service providers and data storage, to internet marketing and sales.”
“All of them? How many are there?”
“About twenty at last count. After I made my first fortune, I became what’s known as an angel investor. If a business looks good, I’ll fund it for a share of the profits. I don’t have to run them, just sit back and collect money.”
My mouth was wide open as I stared at him. “Twenty?” I squeaked.
“At last count,” he answered. “Kitten, I’m worth maybe a couple of billion. Don’t worry about insurance.”
I had to close my mouth to gulp, which became a necessity when he mentioned the number. “Did you say billion? With a B? Holy fuckin’ crap!”
Russ cracked up. “Is that all you’ve got? Just one F-bomb?” I was staring at him as if antennae were coming up through his hair. Suddenly, many things were clear to me. Why everyone jumped when he spoke. How he had pulled off getting here in two and a half hours when I called him. For what reason he was so confident that he could make anything happen. And then I was angry. I flew at him, pounding him with my fists, as he fought to catch them and control them, a look of bewilderment on his face.
“Hey, what the hell?”
“You could have told me sooner! You still don’t trust me! You jerk, why didn’t you say something?”
Russ had the grace to look ashamed. “Look, you’re right. I should have trusted you from the beginning. Can we start over please? You’re not a gold-digger and I’m not a rapist. Fair enough?”
His reference to my mistake on the first day I was conscious after the accident brought me up short. No, in fact, he wasn’t anything of the sort. He might want what he wanted when he wanted it, but he had come to expect that as a perk of his business prowess, and besides, I liked it. What I’d said to him before I even knew him was not only a mistake, but an insulting accusation I had no reason to make. I stopped flailing my fists at him.
“How is it ever going to look like anything but gold-digging, when you drag a pregnant woman with no prospects home and introduce me to your parents.”
“Kitten, they know all about you, and they have from the beginning. I don’t keep secrets from them.”
“Then, they know you and I…”
“It’s understood. I didn’t give them a blow by blow description, so to speak,” he said, grinning. “Trust me, they’re going to love you. And they’d kick my butt if I didn’t do right by you. Hey,” he said, changing the subject. “If I show you how to use my Mac and do an internet search, do you think you could research the best place for your mom while I do an errand?”
It seemed our heart-to-heart talk was at an end, and I was curious about his computer and the internet that had made him so fabulously wealthy. Not that I cared about that, other than to stop worrying about how much I was costing him. I wouldn’t have cared if he was penniless, as long as I got to have that body and the intense passion toward me that came with it.
“Sure.” After setting me up with a password and showing me how to ask a computer questions it could understand, Russ left, promising to be back within the hour for dinner, but since I was already ravenous again, he dialed room service to ask them to bring me a snack, and I was looking forward to the fruit and yogurt smoothie he had chosen for me.
I also hadn’t forgotten that we still had to talk about the RALDS girls. I wanted to know what Russ had decided, and what had happened in my absence.
§
True to his word, Russ was back within the hour, looking as if he had pulled off a good prank. I didn’t trust that look, but in the spirit of starting over, I suppressed my urge to pry it out of him. He’d either tell me in his own good time, or it was none of my business. How was that for trust?
I had sold all my dresses except the green silk one that he loved with my unruly red hair; but, like everything else that had been kept at my mom’s place, it smelled horribly of smoke. Russ called for a valet and sent it out to be cleaned, along with my other clothes to the laundry. It made me a virtual prisoner in the room, with nothing to wear but the fluffy robe the hotel provided.
Then he announced we were staying in for dinner, and ordered for both of us. I was a bit surprised to hear him order champagne, knowing I couldn’t drink it, but again I didn’t ask. If he wanted some champagne, even the whole damn bottle, who was I to complain? I had never seen him drunk, and believed that I never would. He was too controlled to allow that, passionate as he was about other things. I tingled as I anticipated the night ahead. With the urgency taken care of earlier, I was hoping for a long, tender interlude in his arms.
While he had been gone, I had looked up every alcohol rehab center I could find west of the Mississippi River, and though I hated to put Mom in the same state as my dad, the one I liked the most was a holistic treatment center in Arizona. I suspected that Mom had issues underlying the alcohol abuse, that she would have to address before she could successfully stay sober.
Russ read the information on the website carefully, and agreed with my decision. He told me I had done a great job, which I took to mean congratulations on not making price a criteria. It was going to cost a small fortune to keep her there for any length of time, but he had convinced me that it was of no importance to him. Though it was a Saturday, he was able to reach the office and talk at length with someone who promised to send an escort to take her there on the following Tuesday. I hoped Russ wouldn’t be bored with St. Louis for the time we’d have to be there until Mom’s little man in a white coat came for her.
We were relaxing in the living room portion of the suite when a knock on the door signaled that our dinner had arrived. Russ opened the door to two waiters, who rolled in carts containing several covered dishes, an ice bucket with the bottle of champagne and a huge bouquet of red roses. They went away smiling, whether at the romantic gesture or the tip Russ gave them, I couldn’t say. Russ brought me the b
ouquet and laid it in my arms. “These aren’t as lovely as you, Kitten, but I hope you like them.”
I had never in my life received flowers, nor did I know anyone who had. But I knew what red roses meant, it was in all the romance books I’d read as a teen. “Oh, Russ, I love them! And I love you, too.”
Looking around for somewhere I could give them a drink of water, I spotted an empty vase on one of the room service carts. Russ had thought of everything. He helped me fill the vase and carefully settle the flowers in, then set it on my bedside table in the bedroom. Our lovemaking that night would be accompanied by the fragrance of two dozen red roses.
When he came back into the living room, Russ had me sit at the table and brought dish after dish for me to inspect and choose from. There was a succulent pork chop, served with mashed sweet potatoes and chunky fresh-made applesauce; chicken breasts resting on a bed of wild rice with a creamy sauce on top, a dish of asparagus, swimming in a buttery, lemony hollandaise; and medium-rare prime rib with garlic mashed potatoes and gravy.
I was literally paralyzed with indecision, until Russ cut a few bites of each meat and placed them along with a bit of their respective accompaniments on my plate. Then it was just a matter of eating it all. And hopefully holding it down. I managed at least a bite of each selection before I felt I’d burst if I had more. Russ polished off the prime rib and part of the pork chop. I was ashamed that there was as much food left as we had eaten, when people like my mom were making do with dry dog food sometimes.
Russ read my face, his old talent, and told me that our failing to eat all the food wouldn’t hurt those people—there was plenty in this world, as long as people shared their good fortune. It was then I understood why he had so many men on the ranch. I’d have bet my last piece of clothing that he had rescued each of them from some kind of distress. That explained their loyalty. And it made me love him all the more.
I thought about asking him for his decision on taking in the girls, then, but it didn’t seem to be the time. He had gone to some trouble to make this a romantic dinner, and I didn’t want to spoil it with business.
Rustled Page 17