A Man of Means

by Diana Palmer

  She grimaced. ‘‘Well, I’ll make sure you have a big Thanksgiving dinner this year,’’ she said gently. ‘‘With all the trimmings. Including biscuits,’’ she added when they both looked her way.

  She finished whipping the pudding, and put it in bowls in the refrigerator to chill before she sat back down. ‘‘That will make us a nice dessert tonight,’’ she commented. ‘‘I don’t suppose you want it any sooner?’’

  They shook their heads. ‘‘I’ve got a meeting with our marketing staff in half an hour,’’ Rey said, checking his multifunction watch.

  ‘‘And I’ve got to go over the new equipment list with our mechanic and see if we’ve got everything ready to order,’’ Leo added.

  ‘‘How about a nice Greek salad for supper?’’ Meredith asked. ‘‘I make it with Feta cheese and black olives and eggs. I bought the ingredients yesterday at the store. Except for the eggs, of course. I’ll get those out of the henhouse.’’

  ‘‘Sounds nice,’’ Leo said with a grin.

  ‘‘Watch where you put your hands,’’ Rey murmured without looking right at her. ‘‘I haven’t seen my pet snake in the barn lately.’’

  She gave him a cold look. ‘‘If I see him, I’ll get him on a stick and put him right back in the barn,’’ she said with pure bravado.

  Rey glanced at her with dancing dark eyes. ‘‘I’d pay real money to see you do that,’’ he chided.

  So would I, she thought, but she didn’t say it. She just smiled smugly.

  The brothers finished their last swallows of coffee and went out the door still talking business.

  Later, Meredith went out to the henhouse to gather the eggs, with her straw basket on her arm. Rey had unnerved her with his comment about the damned snake. Now she was sure it was in there, waiting for a gullible victim to frighten.

  She took a deep breath and walked carefully into the dim confines of the henhouse. She bit her lower lip and approached the nest slowly. She stopped dead. There was actually a snake in there. He was wrapped around the eggs. He was licking his snaky lips.

  She shivered with fear, but she wasn’t going to let the stupid thing make her a laughingstock twice.

  She saw a long, thick stick on the straw-covered floor. She put her basket down, still watching the snake, and picked up the stick.

  ‘‘It’s okay, old fellow,’’ she said to the snake. ‘‘It’s okay. I’m just going to ease you out of the nest. Don’t get mad, now. I won’t hurt you. It’s okay.’’

  While she was talking, softly, she eased the stick under its coils and very carefully lifted it. It was very still, not moving its head except to hiss. So far, so good. She had it up on the stick. It was heavy.

  As she pulled it out of the nest, she noticed that it was really quite long. It really didn’t look much like that black and white one Rey had put in the barn. This one had a pretty brown pattern on its back and had a white underbelly. But, then, it wasn’t striking at her or anything, so she wasn’t worried.

  She held it far out in front of her and stepped carefully out of the henhouse into the bright light. As she did, the snake hung from the stick, looking rather bored by the whole thing.

  She carried it through the yard and out toward the barn. One of the men was standing by a truck, watching her progress. His jaw fell. She wondered what was wrong with him. Maybe he’d never seen a woman carry a snake around before.

  ‘‘Nice day,’’ she called to him.

  He didn’t answer. She shrugged and kept walking.

  The barn was empty, except for the bales of hay that were stacked neatly on the bottom and the loft of the huge structure. Over against one wall there was a corn crib with stacks and stacks of dried corn, and a machine that shelled them.

  ‘‘Here we go, old fellow,’’ she told the snake. She eased him over the wooden box and slid him down into the piles of unshelled corn.

  He drew back in a threatening pose and hissed at her again.

  Odd, the shape of his head, she thought, frowning as she studied him. It looked like an arrowhead. That other snake’s head had been rounded.

  Well, it might be some other species of king snake, she supposed. Weren’t there several?

  She walked back out of the barn into the daylight, whistling softly to herself as she started back to the henhouse. She was so proud of herself. She’d gotten the snake on the stick all by herself, without screaming once, and she’d carried him all the way to the barn and put him in the corn crib. She wasn’t afraid of the snake anymore. As Rey had said, they were beneficial. It wasn’t right to kill something just because you were afraid of it, she told herself.

  The man who’d been standing by the truck was nowhere in sight, but the truck was still running and the driver’s door was standing wide-open. She wondered where the driver had gone. He must have been in a hurry for some reason.

  Meredith went back to the henhouse, put the stick down, picked up her basket and went to gather eggs. There were no more snakes, but there were plenty of eggs. She could boil several to go in her nice Greek salad. The spinach she’d bought to make it with was crisp and cold and almost blemishless. The brothers would love a salad if it had enough eggs and cheese and dressing.

  She got the last egg into the basket and walked back out again, pausing to reach down and pet one of the big red hens who came right up to her and cocked its head curiously toward her face.

  ‘‘Aren’t you a pretty girl?’’ she said, smiling. She liked the way the chicken felt. Its feathers were very smooth and silky, and the chicken made the sweetest little noises when she petted it. She’d never been around farm creatures. She found that she enjoyed the chickens and the cattle dogs and the endless cats that hung around outside begging for handouts.

  Two other hens came up to her, curious about the tall creature in jeans and tank top. She petted them, too, laughing as they crowded close. But then one started to peck the eggs, and she stood up again.

  She turned back toward the house, her mind on the snake and her bravery. She’d have to remember to tell Rey and Leo about it…

  ‘‘Meredith!’’

  The loud, urgent deep voice sent her spinning around. Rey was running toward her, bare-headed, with the cowhand who’d been next to the running pickup truck at his heels.

  ‘‘Hi, Rey,’’ she said hesitantly. ‘‘What’s wrong?’’

  He stopped just in front of her. He caught her a little roughly by the arms and took the basket away from her, setting it aside, while he looked at every inch of her bare arms and hands. He was breathing rapidly. He seemed unnaturally pale and tight-lipped.

  ‘‘It didn’t bite you?’’ he demanded.

  ‘‘What?’’

  ‘‘The snake! It didn’t bite you?’’ he snapped.

  ‘‘No, of course not,’’ she stammered. ‘‘I just got it on a stick, like you did, and put it in the corn crib.’’

  ‘‘Get my Winchester,’’ Rey told the other man in a harsh tone. ‘‘Load it and bring it back here. Hurry!’’

  ‘‘I don’t understand,’’ Meredith said with noticeable confusion. ‘‘What’s wrong with you? Why do you need a gun?’’

  ‘‘Oh, baby,’’ he whispered hoarsely. He pulled her against him and bent to kiss her in view of the whole outfit, his mouth hard and rough against hers. ‘‘Baby!’’

  She had no idea what was wrong, but she loved the faint tremor in his hard arms as they crushed her against his body. And she loved the way he was kissing her, as if he couldn’t get enough of her mouth. He’d called her ‘‘baby…’’

  She held on and moaned under the crush of his lips.

  He drew back. ‘‘I’m sorry. It was such a shock. I was scared out of my wits, I didn’t even stop to grab my hat when Whit came into the office…!’’

  Her mouth was pleasantly swollen. She looked up at him dreamily and smiled.

  ‘‘You don’t have a clue, do you?’’ he asked huskily, searching her soft grey eyes.

  ‘‘
Mmm. About what?’’ she murmured, only half hearing him.

  The other man came out with a rifle. He handed it to Rey. ‘‘Safety’s on,’’ the man advised.

  ‘‘Thanks, Whit.’’

  He moved back from Meredith. ‘‘I’ll go kill it.’’

  ‘‘Kill it?’’ Meredith exclaimed. ‘‘You can’t! It will eat the rats, it’s harmless…!’’

  ‘‘Sweetheart,’’ he said very gently, ‘‘you were carrying a copperhead moccasin.’’

  ‘‘Yes?’’ She stared at him blankly.

  ‘‘It’s one of the most poisonous snakes in Texas!’’

  She stood looking after him with her mouth open and her heartbeat choking her. She’d been carrying the damned thing on a stick, with it hissing at her. She felt the blood leave her head. Seconds later, she was lying on the hard ground. Fortunately she missed the basket of eggs on the way down.

  Nine

  ‘‘You’re making a habit of this lately,’’ Rey murmured as he carried Meredith up the stairs to the garage apartment. ‘‘ never figured you for a fainter, Meredith,’’ he added dryly.

  He was still bare-headed, but he wasn’t grim now. He was smiling.

  ‘‘Of course I fainted! I picked up a poisonous snake!’’ she gasped, still in shock.

  ‘‘Well, you’ve got guts, woman, I’ll give you that,’’ he said with a slow smile, shifting her a little closer. ‘‘Picked up a poisonous snake with a stick and carried it all the way to the barn, and it didn’t bite you. Now I’ve heard everything.’’

  ‘‘It did hiss a little,’’ she recalled, shivering.

  ‘‘It had eaten three eggs,’’ he murmured. ‘‘Probably it was too busy digesting to care where it went at the time. Lucky for you.’’

  She laid her cheek against his broad, strong shoulder and held on tight. She had a sudden thought. ‘‘It didn’t bite you?’’ she asked worriedly.

  ‘‘It didn’t get the chance. Didn’t you hear the shot? I got it as it was crawling down from the corn bin onto the floor.’’ He chuckled. ‘‘If I hadn’t gotten it, though, Bandit would have. King snakes are natural enemies of any poisonous snake. They eat them. I hate to kill even a copperhead, but we can’t have poisonous snakes around the livestock, or the men. Or, especially,’’ he added with a warm glance at her, ‘‘in the henhouse. At the very least, a bite from one can put a man in the hospital.’’

  She shivered, and her arms tightened around Rey’s neck. ‘‘I was so proud of myself,’’ she murmured. ‘‘I had no idea I was taking my life in my hands. It didn’t look exactly like the other snake, but the patterns were sort of similar. I know about snake bites because I’ve helped treat them, but I don’t know one snake from another unless I see pictures of them!’’ she added defensively.

  ‘‘You’ll learn.’’ He kissed her forehead with breathless tenderness. ‘‘My brave girl,’’ he whispered. ‘‘You’ll never know how scared I was when Whit came running to tell me what you were doing.’’

  It made soft little ripples of pleasure run through her body when he said that. He was being protective about her. She closed her eyes and drank in the warm nearness of him, the easy strength of his arms as he carried her. She felt safe as she’d never felt in her whole life. It was nice to lean on somebody strong, just for a little while.

  He felt the vulnerability. He told himself that he wouldn’t take advantage of it, but who was he kidding? She was soft and cuddly like this, and it was almost an involuntary action when his mouth slowly moved over hers as he reached her door.

  The pressure was light, comforting. She sighed under the warmth and delight of it, and her lips parted, just the least little bit.

  His whole body contracted with desire at that faint response. He looked down into her half-closed, misty eyes with growing hunger.

  The look was as new as the tenderness. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from that dark hunger in his. She forgot the snake, the scare, the people outside in the yard, everything. He bent back to her, and she met his mouth hungrily with her own, her arms clinging fiercely to his shoulders.

  He groaned aloud. It was too soon, but he didn’t care. He managed to open the door and close it behind them, making a beeline for the neatly made-up bed. He barely took time to put her down on the coverlet before his body slid against and over her own, his arms under her, taking his weight while his mouth made new, insistent demands on her innocence.

  He lifted his head a torturous few seconds later, and his eyes blazed into her own. One lean hand slid deliberately under the hem of her tank top. At the same time, one long, powerful leg eased between both of hers and his hard mouth began to tease around the corners of hers.

  ‘‘Danger will do it every time,’’ he murmured deeply.

  ‘‘Will…do what?’’ she asked, burning with new long-ings as his hand began to move up her rib cage toward the lacy little bra she was wearing under the top.

  ‘‘This.’’ His mouth opened on hers and became quickly insistent. While he kissed her, his fingers found the catch on her bra and flicked it open. She jumped when she felt his hand on flesh that had never known a man’s touch before. He lifted his head and looked into her eyes. ‘‘I know. It’s new territory,’’ he said gently. His fingers stroked the delicate, warm flesh as lightly as a breeze. ‘‘Try to think of it as a rite of passage.’’

  She felt strange new sensations. There was a tightening, a swelling, in her breasts as he touched them. She lifted involuntarily, and her eyes mirrored her surprise.

  ‘‘Innocence is a rare, rare thing these days,’’ he said at her lips. ‘‘I respect it. And you’d better thank your lucky stars that I do,’’ he added as his mouth bit hungrily at hers. ‘‘Because with an experienced woman, I’d lock the door and I wouldn’t hesitate a minute.’’

  She felt the words like the caress of his hands on her body. She moaned huskily under the demanding crush of his mouth. She felt his tongue tracing her lips, teasing under them, darting and touching and withdrawing. She felt his teeth, too, in a sensual caress that only intensified the new sensations he was teaching her to feel.

  She felt her back arch again as he traced around the curves of her breast without ever touching the hard, taut nipple. She wanted him to touch it. Her body ached to have him touch it. She didn’t understand why it should be such a violent, aching need…!

  He laughed in a soft, sexy way against her lips. ‘‘Is this what you want?’’

  He caught the nipple between his thumb and forefinger and she lifted off the bed with a sharp cry. Heat spread over her, through her. Her short nails dug into his back fiercely and she gasped with pleasure.

  ‘‘Baby,’’ he groaned roughly, aroused by her unexpectedly ardent response. ‘‘Baby, you turn me on so hard…!’’

  The top was suddenly around her collarbone and his mouth—his mouth!—was right on her nipple, suckling her while his tongue tasted the hardness with a subtle caress that made her shiver. Her hands caught in the thick strands of his dark hair and held him to her body while he explored it with his mouth. She’d never imagined that she was capable of so much passion, and so unexpectedly swift. He could do anything to her, and she didn’t have the willpower to stop him. Even a simple ‘‘no’’ was beyond her now. She wanted more. She wanted his eyes on her, his hands on her. She wanted his body closer.

  As if he knew that, both lean hands smoothed up from her waist and onto her soft breasts. His fingers were rough from hard work, but their touch was pure heaven. She caressed his nape, moving rhythmically with each slow brush of his fingers, lost in pleasure.

  He lifted his head to look at what he’d uncovered. She was beautiful, not too big or too small. She was just right. He loved the way her body moved when he touched it. He loved knowing how innocent she was. He’d never been with an innocent. Making love to one was a whole new experience, with levels of pleasure he’d never tasted. Her soft little moans excited him as much as those enthusiastic fingers caressin
g his back.

  She felt his eyes and she opened hers, looking up at him. ‘‘Am I doing it right?’’ she whispered breathlessly.

  His body tautened even more. ‘‘Yes,’’ he whispered. ‘‘Just right.’’

  He bent and drew his mouth gently over hers with a soft, cherishing pressure. He felt it open under his, felt her arms pulling at him. It wasn’t a good idea to let this go any farther than it already had. While he was thinking it, he was moving slowly between her long legs until his body rested in the fork of hers. He eased down against her, letting her feel the slow burgeoning of his body against her belly.

  She caught her breath.

  He heard it, and lifted his head. His eyes were smoldering with desire, his body was rigid with it. He was getting little surges of insistent pleasure that ran the length of his spine. Her hips moved as if they were responding helplessly to the touch of him. She was making him ache like hell.

  His hand moved to her hip and bit into the soft flesh, stilling the faint motion of her hips instantly while he rested on the elbow of his other arm. ‘‘Meredith,’’ he said softly. ‘‘That will get you seduced. Right now.’’

  She felt hot all over. Her mind seemed barely under her control. She searched his dark eyes with wonder. Her hands were against his shirt, right on the buttons. She felt him against the lower part of her body, and it felt right. It felt wonderful. She wanted to writhe under him and tempt him into intimacy.

  His hand contracted and he gave her a wise, challenging stare as he read the look on her face. ‘‘Don’t do it,’’ he said huskily. ‘‘I’m years ahead of you in experience, but I can still lose my head. You don’t want me to do that. Not really.’’