by Sandra Brown
"Hello, Sage."
"Hi, Sage."
"Hi! Why so glum? I've got great news."
"We heard it already."
"You heard about Belcher?"
Lucky's lips drew thin with dislike. "Yeah."
"I don't get it." Their lack of enthusiasm rubbed the gilt off her brilliant smile. "Didn't he tell you that he agreed to finance the prototype?"
"That's what he said," Chase remarked.
"Then—"
Lucky interrupted her, but not before sending the baseball crashing into the farthest wall. "We told the pompous sonofabitch to shove his money where the sun don't shine."
She fell back a step and wheezed, "What?" All her anxiety, the hard sell, the pride she'd had to swallow! For nothing? "Why?"
"You don't have to pretend with us any longer, Sage. We know about Travis and you. We heard about the way he just dumped you and announced his engagement to another girl at the big New Year's Eve bash."
"You … you…" She couldn't form a coherent thought, much less vocalize it.
"If our sister isn't good enough for that slimy, wimpy bastard, then we don't want any part of his ol' man's damn money!" Lucky stood up so fast, he knocked over the chair he'd been slouching in. "To think of him leading you on all this time and then jilting you right before Christmas." He slammed his fist into his other palm. "I'd like to get my hands around his scrawny neck. Harlan said—"
"Harlan?" Harlan! "Where is he?"
"He's sleeping late this morning in his trailer," Chase told her. "He called a while ago and said he'd been up all night and that— Hey, Sage, where are you going?"
She bolted out the door and clambered down the steps to the car. She jammed the key into the ignition, shoved the transmission into gear, and floored the accelerator. The chuckholes went unnoticed as she sped toward the trailer. Her rear wheels skidded on the loose soil and sent up a shower of pebbles when she braked in front of the Streamline.
As before, the doors were unlocked. She didn't bother to knock, but stamped inside and turned left, storming through the tiny galley into the narrow hallway that led to the sleeping area.
He was lying diagonally across the bed on his stomach, all four limbs extended. The covers were twisted around him. Sage picked up the extra pillow and hit him on the head with it.
"You bastard! You scum! You lowlife creep!"
Harlan rolled to his side and brought up one arm to protect his head from the raining blows. "What the—"
"I'm going to kill you!" She raised and lowered the pillow in rapid succession. "How could you do this to me? You ruin everything. You've ruined my life. Ever since I met you—"
The breath whooshed from her body when Harlan grabbed one of her arms and yanked her down onto the bed. He wrestled the pillow away from her and tossed it aside. It fell against a red lava lamp on the nightstand and sent it crashing to the floor.
"What the hell's the matter with you?"
"Let me up!"
She began to buck and kick and flail her arms. He anchored her legs to the bed by throwing one of his across her thighs. She tried to knee him in the groin. He managed to avoid emasculation, but barely.
"Stop that! Dammit, Sage, calm down. What the hell brought this on?"
"You told them. How long did you wait after I left town to go blabbing everything? The minute my back was turned you betrayed my confidence."
"I don't know what the hell— Ouch!"
Astonished, he gazed down at the four thin lines of blood oozing from his chest. Cussing elaborately, he manacled her wrists together and pulled them over her head, stapling them to the mattress with his own hard fingers.
"If you scratch me again, I swear, I'll cut off every one of your fingernails at the quick."
"I don't care. I don't care if you shave my head. I don't care what you do to me. You couldn't humiliate me any more than you already have."
"Just what did I do that was so horrible? Huh? I haven't even seen you for almost a week." He secured her by lying across her.
She squirmed beneath him, trying to get away. Eyes narrowed with loathing, she said, "You waited until I got out of town, then, like a sneaky coward, you told them."
"Told who what?"
"You let me go through the humiliation of begging that old buzzard for an appointment. I had to sit there and listen to his patronizing explanation for Travis's seemingly sudden engagement. 'She's been his friend and companion since they were children, Sage. I'm sure you understand these things, Sage. Travis honestly didn't want to hurt you, Sage. It has always been more or less understood that he and this other young lady would marry one day, Sage.' On and on he went until I wanted to throw up all over his desk.
"But for the sake of Tyler Drilling's future, I sat there with my eyes lowered and my mouth zipped and took every condescending word he uttered. I wanted to tell him how glad I was to be away from his weak-willed son and his overdressed, overbearing, overweight wife. Instead, I acted demure and properly heartbroken."
She glared up at Harlan, whose face was bent low over hers. "But it was worth eating humble pie because I came away with his promise to finance the prototype. I got what I wanted out of the old codger.
"Then you ruined everything by telling Chase and Lucky about Travis. Didn't you realize how they would react? Didn't you know that their family pride wouldn't tolerate his rejection of me? Are you sure you didn't forget any titillating details? Did you tell them every heartrending word he said when he jilted me?"
"I didn't tell them."
His firm but quiet denial only made her more furious. She renewed her efforts to get away from him. "You did! I know you did. You're the only one who knew."
"Belcher knew."
She ceased struggling and gaped at him. "What?"
"Belcher knew. If someone told your brothers, it was Dr. Belcher. Not me. I swear it, Sage."
He didn't look like a lying man. His blue eyes were still puffy from lack of sleep, but they were steady as they probed hers. She moistened her upper lip with her tongue and was surprised to taste perspiration there. Or had that saltiness come from tears?
"But Lucky said that you said … something." She hadn't waited to hear the quotation. Was it possible he was telling her the truth?
"The only thing I've said about Travis in Lucky's presence was that my opinion of the guy coincided with his. He asked me if I'd met him when I went to Houston to get you. I told him that, no, I hadn't had the pleasure. I said I had only seen Travis from a distance, but that to me he looked like a guy who was more interested in a woman's position on the social register than her favorite position in bed.
"After a few off-color remarks, which I doubt you'd enjoy hearing repeated, I told him that when I arrived, Travis and you were having a serious discussion. He asked me if I knew what the discussion had been about. I hate lying, Sage, but for your sake, I told him no.
"That conversation took place on Christmas Day, long before you even thought about returning to Houston and asking Belcher for money. So if Lucky and Chase know about your broken engagement, the news came from somebody else."
She pulled her lower lip through her teeth and tried unsuccessfully to stem the flow of tears. They fell anyway, rolling down her temples into her hair.
"I've made a fool of myself in front of you again. I hate you," she whispered earnestly.
"Right now, the only one you hate is yourself." He shook his head sadly, as though he deeply regretted the agony her stubborn pride continually put her through. "Don't be so hard on yourself. Everybody makes mistakes."
One of his hands still had her wrists pinned to the mattress. The fingers of the other sank into her hair and settled against her scalp. "Shave your head, huh?" Laughing softly, he dipped his head and caught one of her tears on the tip of his tongue, then brushed his lips across her damp cheekbone.
"Stop that. What are you doing?"
"Giving you what you've been asking for all along."
"I don't know
what you mean. You always talk to me in riddles. You—"
"Sage, be still and shut up."
"I said to, uh, stop. Harlan … Harlan, don't. I mean it now. Hmm…"
His mouth settled firmly on hers, and when he parted her lips with his agile tongue and delved into her mouth, she was all too willing to keep quiet. Only small sighs of gratification escaped her throat. Her anger dissipated like morning fog after sunrise.
She purred.
He released her hands but she didn't even realize it until he slid both his beneath her sweater and, after unfastening her brassiere, laid them on her breasts. He tenderly squeezed her, reshaping her flesh to fit his strong, yet gentle, hands.
With her hands free, she could have pushed him away or scratched him again. Instead she laid one arm across his bare back and cupped his head with her other hand. Her mouth became his to explore and penetrate. She did some exploring of her own, slipping her tongue into the sweet heat of his mouth, tasting him, and sipping at his lips when they had to pause for breath.
His caresses grew bolder and more impatient. She moved restlessly beneath him. Tacitly they agreed that she had on too many clothes. When he angled her up to peel off her sweater, she obliged him.
That's when she noticed that he was naked. She sucked in a quick breath of surprise. He shrugged. "Never sleep in anything."
The muscles of his long arms were well defined, as was each strong vein. His chest was wide and hairy. The swirling pattern of hair tapered at his narrow waist, then flared again, dark and abundant, around his full sex. He was quite beautifully made.
A small, airless exclamation of excitement escaped her before she could stop it.
The sheets felt cool against the skin of her back when she lay down. They smelled like Harlan. She wanted to wallow in them but wasn't given the opportunity.
He lowered his rumpled, blond head over her breasts and flicked her nipples with his tongue, catching them briefly between his lips, bringing an ache of longing to her lower body and a sense of euphoria to her soul.
When he drew one raised crest into his mouth, her back arched off the bed and she moaned with shameless need. He laid his fingertips against her lips; she kissed them while his mouth tugged on her with exquisite finesse. Mindlessly, she clutched him, raking her nails through the pelt of golden hair on his chest.
"Before you draw blood again, we'd better get you out of these clothes." He spoke jokingly, but his eyes were concentrated points of vivid light. Much as hers must look, she thought.
When she lay beside him naked, he gazed at her, cursing softly beneath his breath. "Lord, but you're something to look at, Miss Sage."
His lips drew hers into another entrancing kiss. Only the introduction of his fingers into her soft, vulnerable flesh could have jolted her out of the golden haze spinning around her.
"Harlan, don't hurt me," she whispered breathlessly.
He raised his head and looked down at her inquisitively. "Hurt you? What do you take me for? I wouldn't dream of hurting you." Smiling at her gently, he bent down to kiss her again as he positioned himself between her thighs.
She felt the velvety smooth tip of his penis separate, enter, stretch, penetrate her.
She gave a soft cry.
Harlan went rigid. His head snapped up. Bridging her with stiff arms, he pushed himself up and looked searchingly into her face. In the space of seconds, a thousand questions were telegraphed from the depths of his eyes. Then he pinched them shut, bared his clenched teeth, and swore lavishly.
He didn't move, didn't say anything for so long, that Sage became anxious. She raised her hands to his armpits and slid them down his corrugated sides.
His breath hissed through his teeth. "Don't. Please don't move." His eyes came open. "See, baby, you're just so … tight," he grated. "So … ah … so small." He ducked his head, his eyes fastening on her breasts beneath his chest. "So beautiful," he added huskily.
He palmed her breast and stroked the dainty pink nipple with his thumb. When he did, her body reacted by closing around him reflexively.
"Aw, Sage," he groaned, lowering himself on top of her again. One arm curved around her waist and lifted her lower body up against his. He buried his face in her neck and closed his teeth over a bite of her flesh.
Sage felt his spasms deep inside her. It was a thrilling sensation, but she wasn't sure what he expected of her. Her recent mistakes had made her self-conscious and unsure. The feelings rioting inside her were so new and transporting, she didn't want to spoil them by doing something foolish, so she tried to lie still.
Her body, however, countered the commands of her brain. Her hips lifted and ground against his in a circular pattern. She clasped his taut buttocks between her thighs. Grasping hands kneaded the supple muscles of his back.
For several moments after his climax, Harlan didn't move. Gradually, he unsnarled his fingers from her hair and disengaged their bodies. He rolled away from her to sit on the edge of the bed, elbows propped on his knees, his head held between his hands. Staring at the floor, he muttered self-deprecations.
Now that it was over, the enormity of what she had done hit Sage. She hastily gathered her clothes and slipped into the closet-sized bathroom.
* * *
Chapter 10
There wasn't much she could do about the whisker burns around her mouth or on her neck. The ones on her breasts wouldn't show. She rinsed her face with cold water. She washed all over with a washcloth, redressed, and raked her hands through her hair, trying to restore it to some semblance of order. In her enraged haste, she had left her purse in the car. With the resources that were available, she'd done as well as she could.
She gripped the doorknob for several moments, garnering all the courage possible before returning to the bedroom. There was no more than twelve inches of space on either side of the bed, so she instantly came face-to-face with Harlan.
Or rather belly to face, as he was still sitting on the edge of the bed. He had, however, pulled on a pair of jeans. Sage thought she must be the most wanton woman in the history of the species because—with his touseled hair, whisker bristle, bare chest and feet—Harlan looked mouth-watering. Her tummy fluttered, and, though she hadn't even begun to chastise herself for what had just happened, she wanted it to happen again.
"Sage," he began, raising his hands in a gesture of helplessness, "I don't know what to say."
"Good. Because I don't want to talk about it. I've got to go. G'bye."
She slipped through the narrow door and hastened down the passageway. He caught up with her in the galley and turned her to face him.
"We've got to talk about it."
She stubbornly shook her head no.
"Why didn't you tell me that you were … that you hadn't … that I was the first?"
"It wasn't any of your business."
"Maybe not until ten minutes ago. Then it became my business."
"That's where it ended, too."
"Like hell it did. Did I hurt you?" He reached up and touched the corner of her whisker-burned lips. "Christ, Sage, I could have hurt you."
"Well, you didn't, so stop acting guilty."
"Are you…" He paused to swallow hard. "Bleeding?"
Embarrassed and exasperated, she lowered her eyes. "You're the one who's bleeding." There were still four distinct red lines on his chest. "I'm sorry I did that to you."
He made a negligent motion with his hand, dismissing the scratches. "I've got to know if you're all right."
"Yes!" she cried, her voice cracking. Rather than show him how emotional she felt, she resorted to anger. "I thought you'd be crowing. Now I've really given you something to gloat about, haven't I?"
She freed her arm from his grasp and left the trailer. She was tempted to run but didn't, wanting to maintain a shred of dignity. On the other hand, she didn't dawdle. From the open doorway, Harlan watched her leave, the expression on his unshaven face grave. She avoided meeting his eyes as she backed the car away befo
re turning into the road. She hadn't gone far when she met Chase driving toward her in one of the company trucks.
"Sage," he called from the open window. Extending his arm, he flagged her down. "What's going on? Why'd you hightail it out of the office like that?"
Her choices were limited to two. She could either burst into tears and confess to her older brother that she was afraid she had fallen in love with the wrong man. Or she could brazen it out.
Since the former was unacceptable, even to herself, she forced a smile. "I lost my temper."
"Over Belcher?"
"Indirectly. See, I thought Harlan was the one who'd told you about Travis and me."
"Why would you think that?"
"He overheard my conversation with Travis the night he came to Houston for me." Nervously, she wet her lips and tasted Harlan. Was his taste visible, like a milk mustache? "I confronted Harlan about it. He … he claimed he hadn't said anything."
"No, we didn't hear it from Harlan. Dr. Belcher called this morning to say how glad he was that we could work together on a business venture despite what had recently happened between you and Travis. I was in the dark as to what he meant. When I asked him for an explanation, it all came out."
"I'm sure he painted me as the wounded loser in a love triangle."
"Something like that."
"Well, he's wrong."
Chase hesitated a moment, studying her, as though gauging the veracity of her statement. "Then why didn't you tell us, Sage? Why put on an act this last couple of weeks?"
"Because I didn't want to involve the rest of the family with my problem. It would have put a pall over Jamie's arrival. The holiday would have been spoiled. What purpose would it have served except to make everyone uncomfortable and uptight?"
"You still should have confided in us, Sage," he said gently. "That's what this family is about. If one of us is suffering, we all take it to heart. You know that." He grinned. "Ever since Belcher's call, Lucky has been threatening to go to Houston and pound Travis to mush."
She rolled her eyes. "And wouldn't that be dandy?"
"Say the word and we'll both go."