by Diana Palmer
She’d noticed how dark his skin was when he’d stripped off his shirt the night before and let her touch him. Her eyes went involuntarily to the hard muscles of his torso and lingered there.
“You don’t do much sunbathing, do you?” he asked unexpectedly, and his eyes told her that he was remembering how pale she was.
Her face colored. “No. There’s no beach nearby, and I live upstairs in an apartment building. I don’t have any place to sunbathe.”
“It isn’t good for the skin. Mine’s like leather,” he commented. “Yours is silky soft….”
She urged her mount ahead, embarrassed because she knew what he was seeing in his mind.
His mount fell into easy step beside her. “Don’t be shy with me,” he said gently. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I guess I seem grass green to you,” she commented.
“Sure you do,” he replied and smiled. “I like it.”
Her eyes went to the flat horizon beyond, to the scant trees and the long fence lines and the red coats of the cattle. “I never had many boyfriends,” she told him, remembering. “My dad was very strict.”
“What was he like?”
“Oh, very tall and stubborn. And terrific,” she added. “I had great parents. I loved them both. Losing Mama was hard, but having both of them gone is really rough. I never missed having brothers or sisters until now.”
“I suppose it makes you feel alone.”
“I’ve felt that way for a long time,” she said. “My father wasn’t really an affectionate man, and he didn’t like close ties. He thought it was important that I stand alone. Perhaps he was right. I got used to being by myself after Mama died.”
He studied her averted features. “At least I had Grandmother and Belinda,” he said. “Although with Grandmother it’s been a fight all the way. She’s too much like me.”
She remembered him saying that the only women he cared about where those two. “What is your sister like?” she asked.
He grinned. “Like Grandmother and me. She’s another hardheaded Jessup.”
“Does she look like you?” she asked curiously.
“Not a lot. Same green eyes, but she’s prettier, and we’re built differently.”
She glared at him. “I do realize that.”
“No. She’s small. Petite,” he clarified. “I suppose I take after my father. He was a big man.”
“An oilman?”
He nodded. “Always looking for that big strike.” His eyes suddenly had a faraway look. “Right out there is where we found him, in that grove of trees.” He gestured to the horizon. “Hell of a shock. There was hardly a mark on him. He looked like he was asleep.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.” He turned his horse, leaving her to follow where the trail led down to the river and a grove of trees. He dismounted, tying his horse to a small tree growing on a grassy knoll. He helped Mari down and tied hers nearby.
“Funny, I never thought of Texas being like this,” she mused as she watched the shallow river run over the rocks and listened to its serene bubbling. “It’s so bare except for occasional stands of timber. Along the streams, of course, there are more trees. But it’s not at all what I expected. It’s so…big.”
“Georgia doesn’t look like this?” he asked.
She watched him stretch out on the leaves under a big live oak tree, his body relaxed as he studied her. “Not a lot, no. We don’t have mesquite trees,” she said. “Although around Savannah we do have huge live oaks like these. Near Atlanta we have lots of dogwoods and maples and pines, but there’s not so much open land. There are always trees on the horizon, except in south Georgia. I guess southwest Georgia is a lot like here. I’ve even seen prickly pear cactus growing there, and there are diamondback rattlers in that part of the state. I had a great aunt there when I was a child. I still remember visiting her.”
He drew up a knee and crossed his arms, leaning back against the tree. “Homesick yet?”
“Not really,” she confessed shyly. “I always wanted to visit a real ranch. I guess I got my wish.” She turned. “Do you think Aunt Lillian will be all right now?”
“Yes, I do.” He laughed. “She’s having a hell of a good time with us. You haven’t told her that we know the truth about each other?”
“No,” she said. “I didn’t want to disappoint her. But we really ought to tell her.”
“Not yet.” He let his darkening eyes run down her body, and his blood began to run hot. “Come here.”
She gnawed her lower lip. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she began half convincingly.
“Like hell you don’t,” he returned. “You didn’t sleep last night any more than I did, and I’ll bet your heart is doing the same tango mine is.”
It was, but she was apprehensive. Last night it had been so difficult to stop.
“You want me, Marianne,” he said under his breath. “And God knows, I want you. We’re alone. No prying eyes. No one to see or hear what we do together. Make love with me.”
Her mind kept saying no. So why did her legs carry her to him? She couldn’t hear reason through the wild slamming of her heart at her throat. She needed him like water in the desert, like warmth in the cold.
He opened his arms, and she went down into them. Coming home. Feeling his big body warm and close to hers, his arms protecting, his eyes possessive.
He rolled over, taking her with him until she was lying on her back under the shade of the big tree with its soft green leaves blowing in the warm breeze.
As she watched, his hand went to his shirt. He flicked open the buttons until his chest was bare, and then his hand went to the hem of her blouse. She caught his wrist, but it didn’t even slow him down. He slid his hand under it and around to the back, easily undoing the catch of her bra.
“Why bother with that thing?” he whispered, sliding his hand around to tease the side of her breast. “It just gets in my way.”
Her body trembled at the lazy brushing of his fingers. “Why can’t I fight you?” she whispered huskily.
“Because what we give each other defies reason,” he whispered. He looked down at her mouth as his fingers brushed closer and closer to the hard, aching tip of her breast. “Little virgin, you excite me beyond bearing, do you know that? I can feel what this does to you. Here…”
His forefinger touched the hard tip and she gasped, shuddering under him, her eyes huge and frightened.
“My God, you can’t imagine what it does to me,” he said curtly. “Feeling that and knowing that I’m causing it. Knowing how hungry you are for me. If I took you right now, you’d scream, Marianne. You’d writhe and cry out, and I wouldn’t be able to hold back a damned thing because you’ve already got me so aroused I don’t know where I am.”
As he spoke, he moved, letting her feel the proof of the statement as his weight settled against her. His big hand smoothed up, cupping her warm breast, and his mouth opened, taking her lips with it in a silence that shattered her resistance.
Her body lifted toward him as he slid both hands under it, taking her breasts, savoring them with his warm, callused hands. His mouth was taking a wild toll of hers, crushing against her parted lips, tasting the sweetness of them in a blazing hunger.
Her hips shifted and he groaned huskily. Her eyes opened, looking curiously up into his.
“What you feel is getting worse by the minute,” he whispered huskily. “If you start moving your hips, I’m going to lose control. Are you willing to take that risk?”
She almost was. Her body was crying out for fulfillment. She wanted his hands on all of her. She wanted his clothes out of the way so that she could touch his skin. She wanted to smooth her fingers down the hard muscles of his back and thighs and feel him in the most intimate embrace of all.
He groaned at the look in her eyes. His hand found hers, pulling it to his body, pressing it flat against him, letting her experience him.
She trembled and jerked away from that intimacy, and it brought him to his senses. He rolled over, bringing up his legs, covering his eyes with his forearms. He stiffened, groaning harshly.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, biting her lip. “Ward, I’m sorry!”
“Not your fault,” he managed roughly. His teeth clenched. “God, it hurts!”
She sat up, helpless. She didn’t know what to do, what to say. It must be horrible for him, and it was her fault, and she didn’t know how to ease that obvious pain.
He jackknifed to a sitting position, bent over his drawn-up legs, breathing unsteadily. His hands were clenched together, and the knuckles went white. He shuddered and let out an uneven breath.
“I never realized…it hurt men like that,” she faltered. “I’m so sorry!”
“I told you it’s not your fault,” he said curtly. He didn’t look at her. He couldn’t yet. His body was still in torment, but it was easing just a little. He sat quietly, waiting for the ache to go away. She was potent. He wondered if he was ever going to be able to stand up again. Damn his principles and damn hers!
“If I were modern and sophisticated…” she began angrily.
“That’s what we’re going to talk about in a minute,” he said.
She stared at his downbent head, absently fumbling to close her bra and pull down her blouse. Together they were an explosive pair. She loved him beyond bearing. Did he, could he, feel the same way? Her heart flew up into the sun. Was he going to ask her to marry him?
She scrambled to her feet, feeling nervous and shy and on the edge of some monumental discovery. “What are we going to talk about?” she asked, her eyes bright, her smile shy and soft.
He looked up, catching his breath at the beauty in her face. “I want you.”
“Yes, I know.”
He smiled slowly. “I guess you do, honey,” he said, reminding her of that forbidden touch that made her blush.
She lowered her eyes to the ground, watching an ant make its way across a twig. “Well?”
“We can’t go on like this,” he said, getting slowly to his feet. He stopped just in front of her, near the edge of the river. “You realize that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she said miserably.
“And one of these days I’m going to go off my head. It could have happened just now. Men aren’t too reliable when their bodies start getting that involved,” he added quietly. “I’m just like any other man in passion. I want fulfillment.”
She swallowed. This was it. She looked up. “So. What do you want to do about it?” she asked gently.
He stuck his hands into his pockets and searched her eyes with a weary sigh. “I’ll set you up in an apartment for a start,” he said, his voice reluctant but firm. “I’ll open an expense account for you, give you whatever you need. Lillian can be told that you’ve got a job in the city. Not Ravine, obviously. Maybe in Victoria. That’s not too far away for me to drive, and it’s big enough that people won’t be too curious.”
She stared at him. “But it’s so far from the ranch…” she began, wondering how they were going to stay married with that kind of arrangement.
“Far enough to keep people from making remarks,” he said. “I don’t want to expose you to gossip.”
“Gossip?” She blinked. Wasn’t he proposing?
“You know how I feel about my freedom,” he said curtly. “I can’t give that up. But you’ll have a part of my life that I’ve never shared with anyone else. You’ll never want for anything. And there won’t be another woman. Not ever. Just you. I’ll manage enough time to keep us both happy when we’re together.”
It was all becoming clear now. His hard face and his determined eyes gave her all the information she needed.
“You’re asking me to be your mistress.” She almost choked on the word, but she had to be sure.
He nodded, confirming her worst fears. “That’s all I can give you, Marianne. That’s all I have to give. Marriage isn’t something I want. I’ve had a taste of commitment that left me half demented. I’ll never risk it again.”
“And you think that I can be satisfied with this kind of arrangement?” she asked in a ghost of her normal voice.
“You’ll be satisfied, all right,” he said, his voice sensual and low. “I’ll satisfy you to the roots of your hair, little virgin.”
“And…Aunt Lillian?”
He shifted uncomfortably. Somehow this was all leaving a bad taste in his mouth. It had seemed the right thing, the only thing, to do when he’d worked it out last night. But now it sounded and felt cheap.
“Lillian will never have to know,” he said shortly.
“And what if I get pregnant?” she asked blatantly. “Nothing is foolproof.”
He drew in a slow breath. Children. He hadn’t realized that children might come of such a liaison. He studied her, wondering absently if they might have a son together. His body surged in a new and unexpected way. His reaction shocked him.
“Pregnant.” He said the word aloud, savoring it.
“It does happen,” she reminded him, going colder by the second. “Or hasn’t the problem ever arisen before?” she added, wondering how many women had come and gone in his life.
“I’ve never been desperate enough to compromise a virgin before,” he said quietly, searching her eyes. “I’ve never wanted anything the way I want you.”
She pulled herself erect. “I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “Sorry that you think so little of me that you could make a proposition like that. I guess I’ve given you every reason to think I’d accept, and I’m sorry for that, too. I never realized how…how easy it would make me seem to you.”
His face fell. He could feel his heart sinking. “Cheap?” he asked softly. “Marianne, that’s the last thing I think of you!”
“Do tell?” She laughed through building tears. “I’ll bet you’ve made that little speech until it’s second nature to you! I’ll bet you’ve even forgotten the names of the women you’ve had in your bed!”
His lips parted on a caught breath. This wasn’t working out the way he’d envisioned. Nothing was going right. There were tears in her eyes, for God’s sake.
“Marianne, don’t…” he began, reaching for her.
“Don’t you touch me, Ward Jessup,” she sobbed, sidestepping. “I’ve made an awful fool of myself, and I guess you had every reason to ask me what you did, but I don’t want to be any rich man’s kept woman, thanks.”
“Look here—” He started toward her again.
Instinctively her hands went out, and she pushed jerkily at his chest. Ordinarily it wouldn’t have moved him. But the riverbank was slick, and his boots went out from under him. He went over backward with a horrible splash.
Mari didn’t stay around to see how wet he was. She ran for her horse, fumbled for the reins from around the trunk of the tree and struggled into the saddle through a blur of tears.
Ward stood up, dripping wet, watching her ride away. He didn’t think he’d ever in his life felt so miserable or so stupid. It had seemed like a good idea, that proposition. He didn’t want marriage, he didn’t. For God’s sake, why did women have to have so much permanence? Why couldn’t they just enjoy themselves like men did? Then he thought about Mari “enjoying” herself with another man, and his face went ruddy with bad temper. He didn’t understand himself lately. But the sight of her riding away, almost certainly to a speedy departure from the ranch, made him feel hollow inside.
Mari rode home feeling just as hollow herself. She should have been flattered, she supposed, at such a generous offer. But she only felt cheap. Stupid, she told herself. You let him do whatever he wants and then get angry at him for making the obvious assumption. She hated herself for giving in, for giving him license to such intimacy. Her body had betrayed her, hungry for pleasure, and she’d lost her reason somewhere along the way. Now she was going to have to leave here. All because she hadn’t been sensible. All because she loved him too much to deny h
erself the ecstasy of his lovemaking.
“You’ve got a lot to answer for,” she told her body angrily. She could have died of shame. Now he’d be sure that she was an idiot.
What was she going to tell Lillian? Her heart sank. The older woman would be heartbroken. Mari closed her eyes, feeling the tears burn them. Why had she ever come here? It had begun so sweetly, only to end in such tragedy. Well, she’d made her bed. Now she’d have to try to lie in it. That wouldn’t be much comfort in the lonely years ahead. Leaving Ward Jessup behind would hurt more than anything else ever had. She’d loved him too much, and now she was going to lose him because of it. Because he didn’t want commitment and she did.
Perhaps she should have said yes, she thought miserably. Then she thought about how she’d feel, being kept, being used and then abandoned. No. It was better to never know him that way than to have a taste of him and lose him. It would only make things worse, and she’d never respect herself again. Oddly enough, she had a feeling that he wouldn’t have respected her, either. Pride would get her through, she promised herself. Yes. She still had that, even if her heart was shattered. She lifted her face and dried the tears on her sleeve. She had to think up some good excuse to go back to Georgia. Something that would give Lillian a reason to think she’d be back, which would keep her on the mend. Her eyes narrowed in deep thought as she approached the ranch house.
Chapter Nine
Mari thought she had it down pat when she left her horse with one of the men at the stable and went into the house to tell Lillian she was leaving.
The older woman was sitting down in the living room, looking smug while she thumbed through a magazine.
Mari paused in the hall, took a deep breath and went into the room determinedly. “Well,” she said brightly, “I’ve got a terrific assignment!”
“You’ve what?” Lillian asked, staring at her niece.
“Mr. Jessup is sending me to Atlanta to get some information on a distant relative of his,” she continued, pretending for all she was worth. “You know, to go into his memoirs. It will give me a chance to see about my rent at the apartment and get some more clothes, too.”