by Smith, Bobbi
Suddenly aware of the direction her thoughts had taken, Jennie was amazed. Until now, she had never cared one bit about how she looked and now, just because Hildago had challenged her womanhood, she was suddenly concerned about her appearance. An embarrassed anger grew within her. Pa liked her just the way she was, she argued with herself. She was happy, so why worry? Lifting her chin in defiance of her feminine confusion, Jennie swept from the bedroom, her natural grace adding a certain elegance to her movements.
Mac and Todd were deep in conversation when Jennie ventured forth from the back of the house to join them in the study.
“Jennie, darling,” Mac greeted her expansively. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you, Pa.” She smiled in delight as his compliment reassured her of his affections. “Good evening, Todd.”
“You do look lovely,” Todd said wholeheartedly as she turned to face him and, when his gaze dropped to her breasts, so enticingly yet innocently revealed, his breath caught in his throat. My God, he’d had no idea that she was so amply endowed. It was an effort for him to look up.
“And thank you, Todd.” She smiled at him easily, unaware of his excited turmoil. Glancing about the room, she asked, “Carrie hasn’t come down yet?”
“Not yet, I don’t know what takes that girl so long to just change dresses,” Mac grumbled. “It wasn’t like she’d been out on the range with us today like you were.”
“Now, Pa,” Jennie soothed, hoping to avoid another confrontation between her father and younger sister. “You know how Carrie feels about such things.”
“I know only too well!” Mac scowled, wondering how a child sprung from his loins could be so indifferent to the workings of the M Circle C. He was thoroughly disgusted with his younger daughter who, it seemed to him, had been a continual source of disappointment to him since her birth sixteen years ago. Why—it was her fault that Eve was gone—Eve, his wife—the woman he’d loved more than life itself. A cold impotent fury possessed him as he thought of the cruel tricks life could play.
“Carrie’s a lovely young lady, Mac,” Todd was saying. He had known both the McCaine girls for a long time now and, though Jennie with dark beauty and passion for ranch life was the one who had stolen his heart, he also found Carrie’s delicate blond beauty very appealing indeed.
Mac fell silent, drinking long and deep from his tumbler of whiskey. There was no way he was going to get drawn into a discussion of Carrie’s finer points, whatever they were.
“Good evening.” Carrie swept into the room on a cloud of expensive French perfume and kissed her father dutifully on the cheek, not noticing that his expression turned thunderous as he took note of the gown she was wearing.
“Carrie you look more ravishing every time I see you,” Todd told her quickly, wanting to blunt Mac’s critical agitation. And indeed, Carrie did look enticing in her low-cut off-the-shoulder gown of pale yellow silk.
“Why, thank you, Todd,” Carrie responded preeningly, pleased that she’d attracted his attention. She had worn her most expensive gown knowing that the color set off her fair good looks and that the revealing bodice emphasized the feminine beauty of her breasts. “You look handsome yourself.”
Being tall and heavily built with features more roughhewn than handsome, Todd was left speechless for a moment by her unexpected compliment.
“Let’s eat, shall we?” Mac suggested, his tone tightly controlled. His long suppressed anger grew within him as he’d watched Carrie’s flirtatious and, in his mind, whoring ways. He wanted to drag Carrie back to her room, thrash her within an inch of her life and lock her in! Damn her! He seethed to himself. Why did life’s past mistakes always have to come full circle?
Sensing that for some unknown reason her father was very upset, Jennie quickly took his arm and allowed him to excort her into the dining room while Todd gallantly assisted Carrie.
Jennie had never understood her father’s attitude toward her younger sister. He always seemed to find fault with everything Carrie did. She had never been able to please him, not even as a child. It seemed that he was always waiting for her to make a mistake so he could berate her for whatever she did.
In their younger years, Jennie had defended Carrie, but Carrie had come to resent her interference. Now after having been caught in the middle of so many disputes, Jennie wisely held her tongue whenever things grew tense between her father and sister.
Often Jennie wished that their mother Eve was still alive for perhaps she would have known how to handle the tension between Mac and Carrie. Sighing inwardly, she realized that that was useless dreaming on her part for her mother, the beautiful Eve, had died soon after Carrie was born, when Jennie was two.
Relieved that Todd was here tonight and that his presence would help to ease the strain, Jennie instructed the servants to begin serving dinner. The meal progressed smoothly enough, although Mac was oddly quiet and gave only monosyllabic answers to any and all questions directed his way.
It was only when they had finished dining that Hildago’s words of earlier that evening returned to haunt Jennie.
“Jennie,” Todd said, “I was wondering if I could speak with you alone for a moment?”
Surprised by his question, Jennie didn’t notice when Carrie stiffened perceptively. “Certainly.”
“Mac—Carrie—If you’ll excuse us?” He rose from the table and moved to help Jennie with her chair.
“Of course, Todd,” came Mac’s hearty answer.
“Shall we go out on the veranda?” Jennie suggested as she stood.
“That would be fine.” He guided her toward the door with a gentle hand at her waist.
Having become a master at disguising her emotions, Carrie watched, expressionlessly, as Todd left the room with Jennie. Throughout the entire meal, she had encouraged his interest in hopes that he’d finally come to realize she was a fullgrown woman, but it had all been for naught. He cared for Jennie and Jennie only—the same as everyone else! A barely controlled fury raged within her. Someday, she seethed, someday, she’d get even with Jennie if it was the last thing she ever did!
A sliver of moon hung low on the distant horizon adding little brightness to the star-spangled, fathomless canopy of the night. The breath of a soft spring zephyr caressed the now blooming land, gentling it for a moment in time before dancing lightly away in search of a more deserving lover—one more sweet and pure than this rock-rimmed, sun-abused expanse of nothingness that for a few weeks of every year pretended to become something it was not—something fresh and innocent.
Standing at the railing on the veranda of the sprawling white adobe ranch house, Jennie stared off into the peaceful darkness, savoring the heavenly scent of the blossoming countryside.
“It’s beautiful this time of year,” she murmured, glancing back over her shoulder to where Todd stood in the doorway silhouetted against the brightness inside.
“Yes. It is,” he answered, suddenly tongue-tied and a bit nervous about what he wanted to say. Squaring his shoulders in an unconscious gesture, Todd stepped away from the harsh light and joined her at the rail. “You love this land, don’t you Jennie?”
Facing him, her smile one of serene contentment, she spoke softly. “It’s magical, Todd. Always changing—always restless and new. I don’t think I could ever be happy anywhere else.”
“I know what you mean. I felt the same thing when I first came here six years ago and I still feel that way today.” In a bold move, he took her hand and lifted it to his lips. “Jennie—I feel that way about you, too.”
Having been forewarned by Hildago that Todd did care for her, Jennie was not surprised by his declaration, but she was a bit unsure as to how to handle the whole situation. How did one tell a good, dear friend that that was all he’d ever be—just a friend.
“Todd—I think we need to talk,” she said, wanting to pull her hand free of his ardent grip, yet fearful of offending him.
“I’ve been wanting to say these things to you for mon
ths now, but something always managed to interfere.” He shook his head disparagingly. “But now that we’re finally alone and you know how much I care for you—Jennie, will you marry me?”
He was so earnest and so sweetly humble that Jennie felt for just a moment like saying yes. As Hildago had said, she could do far worse than Todd Clarke for a husband. But her common sense finally won out. She knew in her heart that she wasn’t ready for marriage. As much as she liked Todd and enjoyed his company, he did not inspire any of the emotions that Jennie had been told went with true love. She felt no passion or desire when she thought of him, only a warmth and a sisterly kind of affection, much like what she felt for her own brother Jake.
“Todd—” Jennie began, totally at a loss as to how to begin. “Todd, I care for you a great deal, but I just don’t know if I’m ready for marriage yet.”
“I can wait, Jennie,” he replied ignoring the hesitancy in her tone. “After all, I’ve waited this long already.”
Todd’s smile was tender and, with a gentleness surprising for a man his size, he turned her toward him. Then, in what seemed like almost slow motion, he bent and kissed her. His lips were soft and warm and she found their caress not unpleasant. When he broke off the almost chaste embrace, his eyes were dark with his unspoken plea.
“I can wait,” he murmured again, stroking the curve of her cheek with hesitant fingers.
His sensitivity struck a chord in Jennie’s heart. Todd was such a dear man. She couldn’t bear to hurt him. Maybe, in time, she would come to love him.
“Good night, Todd.” Jennie answered, her nervousness clearly evident in her voice. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Todd sighed in frustration as he watched her hurry back inside. The night hadn’t been a total waste, he decided. At least she hadn’t said no. That in itself was encouraging, for he imagined, and rightly so, that it was the first proposal of marriage Jennie had ever received. Stepping off the protective covering of the veranda, Todd stood silently in the comforting darkness of the Arizona night. Enveloped in its ebony cloak, he stared out across the range, pondering the best way to win Jennie’s heart and make her his own.
As soon as Jennie and Todd had gone outdoors, Carrie had excused herself from her father’s glowering, condemning presence and hurried off to the privacy of her own room. Consumed by a hatred she little understood, she stormed about her haven. Viciously she kicked off her shoes and then stripped off her gown, tossing it in a rumpled heap in the center of the floor. Pausing only long enough to untie the ribbons of her delicately made chemise, Carrie took it off, too, throwing it aside with the discarded dress.
Turning up the lamp, Carrie strode naked to her cheval mirror. Staring at herself with critical detachment, she had absolutely no doubt that she was prettier than Jennie. Her hair was a glorious mass of golden curls; her body was trim and shapely; her legs were slender and graceful. Why then, she seethed, wasn’t Todd attracted to her? She had done everything but climb onto his lap at dinner tonight and yet, when all was said and done, it had been Jennie he’d wanted.
Twisting sideways, Carrie surveyed her profile and found no defects there. Her breasts, though not as full as Jennie’s were high and round and, she knew from experience, very sensitive; her buttocks were tight, sensuously curved, and very enticing to a man’s hand.
Muttering a curse under her breath, Carrie stalked across the room to the window. Staring out, she was little mindful of the fact that she was clearly illuminated by the lamplight. Damn! Her body was aching with a need that she knew full well needed to be assuaged. She had learned of physical intimacy during her year back East and now, forced into celibacy here on the ranch, she was becoming too frustrated to worry about being discreet. She needed release from the prison of her desires and she needed it now!
Thwarted in her effort to attract Todd’s attentions, Carrie was left with only one opportunity. Her movements were rushed as she pulled on a dark-colored dress over her nude, sensitive body and slipped into low-heeled shoes. Knowing that no one would come looking for her for the rest of the night, she extinguished her lamp and then climbed nimbly out her bedroom window. Tonight, she was going to enjoy herself. Tomorrow would take care of itself!
Taking care not to be seen, Carrie skirted the main house and headed straight for the foreman Steve Douglas’s private cabin. Approaching cautiously from the rear, she was delighted to find that Steve had not yet returned from his usual nightly inspection of the stables. Boldly, Carrie let herself in and, without lighting any lamps, she shed her clothes and slid beneath the covers of his bunk. Stretching languidly against the rough, scratchiness of the cotton sheets, she waited in breathless anticipation for his coming. She had never been with Steve before but knew anough about manipulating men to know that he would not be able to refuse her—boss’s daughter or not. A small smile of lusty excitement lit her face as she relaxed in the bed.
It seemed to Carrie that an eternity had passed before she heard the jingle of Steve’s spurs as he crossed the dusty grounds on his way back to his home. Artfully arranging the topsheet to enhance the view he would have when he entered the bedroom for the first time, she lay still.
Bone-tired and weary from a long day in the saddle, Steve Douglas strode slowly toward his cabin. Pausing by the watering trough, he set his hat aside and unbuttoned his dirty, sweat-stained shirt. Taking it off, he tossed it carelessly over the nearby hitching rail. It took only a second to prime the pump and, once the clean, cool water gurgled forth, he began to wash the day’s grime from his torso.
Carrie wondered at his delay in entering the cabin and she peeked out the small window next to the bed. The night was dark, but the flickering lamplight from the main house helped to partially illuminte the yard, and she could make out Steve’s very masculine form as he stripped down to the waist. Her eyes roamed hungrily over the taut, sinewy muscles of his back as he leaned forward under the pump to let the refreshing fluid wash over him. A sensual heat began to build within her as she imagined running her hands over the broad, now glistening smoothness of his shoulders. If only he’d hurry.
Straightening up, Steve shook the water from his head and then tried to brush some of the day’s clinging dust from his pants. Gathering his things, he headed inside, anxious to get a good night’s rest. Tossing his hat and shirt on the nearby table, he lit one lamp and then began to unbuckle his gunbelt as he headed to his bedroom.
“Good evening, Steve.” Carrie’s purr froze him in his tracks, and his eyes narrowed in stunned confusion as he spotted her in his bed.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Steve demanded as, mechanically, he finished taking off his gunbelt and placed it on top of the small chest of drawers. He was unable to take his eyes off her so blatantly offered body for the sheet seemed to hug her every lush curve.
“Waiting for you.” Her voice was throaty as she lifted her arms to him and smiled seductively. “Don’t make me wait any longer, Steve.”
“Get out!” Steve ordered, his tone quiet but his emphasis unmistakably clear.
“I don’t think so.” Carrie sighed dramatically, settling back more comfortably against his pillow.
“What do you mean, ‘you don’t think so’? What kind of game are you playing, little girl?” He was furious. This was the boss’s daughter, not some whore from the cantina in town. What the devil was she up to?
Carrie understood far more of what he was thinking than Steve gave her credit for, and in a move designed to drive him over the edge, she sat up, letting the covers fall about her waist. “I’m not playing, Steve.” Arching her back, she lifted the heavy mane of her hair in a sensuous motion and let the golden curls fall forward to partially curtain the seductive upthrust of her breasts. “I want you.”
Steve’s mouth went dry as he watched her, but being a very practical man, he still held back. “Carrie. You shouldn’t be here. You don’t know what you’re asking for. For God’s sake, you’re little more than a child!”
/> “I’m a woman, Steve. All the woman you’ll ever need.” Swinging her lithe legs over the side of the bed, she tossed off the sheet and strode sinuously toward him. “Ever.”
His gaze seared her, and when she stopped in front of him, Steve could no longer deny himself. With a groan of mixed pleasure and pain, he clasped her to him and was rewarded by her throaty victorious growl as his mouth descended to hers in a burning passionate caress.
Eagerly, Carrie caressed the bare width of his chest. Driven by her insatiable hunger for satisfaction, she rubbed against Steve, taunting him and arousing him to a fevered pitch. Greedily, her hands moved to loosen his pants, and it was then that his control completely deserted him.
Pulling away from Carrie long enough to shed his boots and pants, Steve gave little thought to the aftermath of his actions. All that mattered was that she was there and more than willing. Lifting her into his arms, he moved quickly to the bed. Neither spoke, for this joining of their bodies was too elemental for words. There was no need for the usual simplistic promises of love and devotion. They both knew what they wanted and they both knew exactly how to get it.
There was no tenderness as Steve took her because his urgency to be within her was too great. And Carrie, her need spiraling with his each ardent caress, encouraged him, using all she had ever learned to heighten his excitement until they were both mindless with forbidden desire.
Reveling in his hard-driving possession, Carrie held nothing back as her body sought peak after peak of carnal rapture. Carrie cried out loudly as the throbbing release of her climax claimed her, and she bucked wildly against Steve until he joined her in that pinnacle of pleasure.
Momentarily sated, she rested in his arms as a small triumphant smile curved her lips.