Men to Trust: Boss Man / The Last Good Man in Texas / Lonetree Ranchers: Brant
His hands slid down her body to her wide, soft hips. “Lift up,” he murmured sensuously.
She did, curious, until she saw his eyes go hungrily to her breasts. His hands slid up to them, cupping them softly. He eased her onto her back and his mouth made a meal of them, kissing and tasting until she rippled all over with renewed desire.
He groaned as his body responded with renewed arousal and sudden urgency. “Are you sore?” he asked roughly.
“I…well, I don’t…ouch!” she gasped when he touched her where the tissues were torn from their first intimacy.
He ground his teeth together. “Sorry,” he whispered.
She could feel how hungry he was. “You can,” she whispered back. “It’s okay.”
He felt those words to the soles of his feet. She would have let him, despite the pain. It humbled him to know that.
He bent to her mouth and kissed her softly, with exquisite tenderness. She tugged at his hips, but he didn’t respond.
“No,” he said softly, and he smiled at her. “Not unless you can take as much pleasure from my body as I take from yours.”
She was fascinated by the reply.
He kissed her again, very softly, and then rolled away from her. He tugged his clothes back on and stood up to finish the fastenings. He looked down at her as she pulled her discarded dress against her breasts and stared at him confusedly.
“I’ll make some coffee,” he said quietly, aware of her sudden embarrassment. “Then we’ll talk.”
He walked away. She struggled quickly back into her things, noting the curious stares of the twin Siamese cats, who probably had never seen such confusing behavior from their resident human pet. It made her self-conscious.
By the time he came back with a tray, she was sitting on the couch feeling waves of embarrassment and shame.
He sat down beside her, fixed a cup of coffee the way he knew she liked it, and handed it to her. He saw the tears she was trying not to shed.
He reached over for a tissue from the box he kept by the lamp and wiped her eyes with a tenderness that said more than words.
“I haven’t had a woman for over two years,” he said bluntly. “I’m sorry. I lost control the minute I started kissing you.”
“It’s all right,” she choked, sipping coffee. “I didn’t exactly fight for my honor.” Tears started rolling again, staining her cheeks while she tried not to let him see how upset she was.
He took the coffee away from her, tugged her into his arms, and dragged her over into his lap. He held her while she cried, rocking her in the silence of the room. He felt satiated. His body was more relaxed than it had been in years. He felt young, vital, full of fire. He smiled at the difference a few torrid minutes had made in their tumultuous relationship.
“I’m sorry,” she choked. “I’m acting like a child.”
He kissed her wet eyelids. “First times are traumatic,” he murmured, drying her eyes again with the tissue.
“Was yours?” she asked, curious.
He laughed. “The first time I tried to have sex, I was seventeen. I was dating an older girl and we were in the back seat of my parents’ car at a country drive-in, one of the last few in Texas,” he recalled. “We were going at it hot and heavy when my zipper stuck.”
She stared at him, fascinated.
He laughed again. “I couldn’t get it to budge. I couldn’t get my jeans off with it zipped. And if I broke the zipper, I’d never have gotten past my mother to my room.” He shook his head. “She was experienced, and furious. She called me a clumsy fool and said she couldn’t imagine why girls went out with me. I took her home and never phoned her again. She didn’t know it was my first time, which was all that saved my pride.”
“I can’t imagine you being clumsy,” she said, fascinated by him.
He kissed the tip of her nose. “We all start somewhere,” he mused lazily. He traced around her soft mouth. “But you were my first virgin,” he whispered, holding her eyes.
Her lips parted. “I was?”
He nodded. He pushed back her disheveled hair. “I wasn’t sure I knew enough to spare you the pain.”
“You did, though,” she whispered, and averted her eyes, flushing.
He’d noticed. He felt ten feet tall. He knew that she’d climaxed, and not just the one time. He’d given her fulfillment, despite the rough beginning. It made him proud.
He cradled her close, wrapping her up in his arms with her face in his warm throat. He rocked her hungrily, his body still tingling with remembered pleasure. “I’d forgotten how it felt,” he whispered. “I suppose I’ve been half-alive, without knowing it.”
“So have I,” she replied drowsily. She curled closer into his powerful body.
He kissed her hair. “I’m sorry I made you sore,” he whispered. “It was unavoidable.”
“I know.”
He sat holding her for a long time, so contented that he didn’t realize how late it was getting until the automatic lights outside began to come on.
“Goodness,” she exclaimed when she noticed, sitting up on his lap. “I have to get home. Mama will be worried.” She stopped, aghast when she remembered her mother and her responsibilities. She remembered what she’d done with Kemp and she felt self-conscious and uncomfortable.
He knew that. He could see it in her expression. He didn’t know what to say to make things right.
“If anything happens, we’ll handle it,” he said softly. “Don’t beat yourself to death worrying. Okay?”
We’ll handle it. Did he mean he’d pay for a termination? She felt sick at her stomach. What in the world had she been thinking? She’d just had sex with her former boss and he wasn’t a marrying man. He wasn’t going to start hearing violins if she turned up pregnant. He was going to suggest a practical solution. But she wasn’t going to be able to agree with that. It just wasn’t possible.
“I can see the thoughts in your mind, Violet,” he said abruptly. “Let’s not face problems before they appear.”
She swallowed. “You’re right, of course.” She got to her feet unsteadily, and looked around as if she didn’t quite know where she was.
Kemp got up, too. “Do you want me to follow you home, just in case?” he asked.
She looked up. “In case of what?”
“You don’t drive at night much,” he said. He scowled. “There are drunks on the roads at night around here.”
“I won’t have any trouble,” she assured him.
“Except when it comes to living with what just happened,” he remarked.
She picked up her purse and sweater and turned to look at him. “What?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “You’re a Puritan, Violet,” he said somberly. “You weren’t a virgin by accident.”
She colored. “I don’t date much…”
He waved away the rest of the reply. “You’re in love with me. I’ve always known it. There isn’t any other reason that would make you give yourself to a man without marriage.”
She glared at him. She hated being so transparent.
He moved closer, taking her gently by the shoulders. “You’ll work for me until we find out, one way or another, if there are going to be any consequences.”
“I should never have…!”
He kissed her mouth closed. “We’re both human.” He searched her eyes. “I love the way you were with me,” he added huskily. “It was the most exciting encounter of my life, Violet. I think I could live on it, if I had to. You were…extraordinary.”
“I didn’t know anything,” she blurted out.
“Instinct must go a long way, then.” He bent and kissed her again. “Try not to be ashamed of something so beautiful,” he added quietly. “We have a lot in common. I think we’ll find even more, as we go along.”
He was saying something incredible. She stared up at him, fascinated.
“I was happy being alone until you came along and shook up my life,” he murmured absently, watching her closely. “I can’t go back.”
“You can’t?”
He brought her soft palm to his mouth and kissed it hungrily. “In a few days, I think we might go and look at rings,” he said hesitantly, and his high cheekbones took on a ruddy color.
“Rings?”
His thumb rubbed over her ring finger. “Rings.”
She couldn’t manage a single word.
His blue eyes were somber. “Today was a beginning. Not the end.”
Her lips parted as she studied him, with love radiating from her face. He saw it, and felt humbled by it. He’d never been with a woman who was so violently in love with him. He felt cosseted, valued, possessed.
He drew her against him, aware that he became aroused the instant he felt her soft breasts against his chest. That hadn’t happened even with Shannon, when he was much younger. Violet lit fires in his body.
“Feel that?” he whispered as he bent to her mouth. “You arouse me so much that it hurts.”
She opened her mouth when she felt his lips on it. He built the kiss, lifting her free of the floor in his embrace. “I would still let you,” she whispered.
“I know,” he whispered back. “You’re part of me now. I’m part of you. Kiss me…”
The kiss was long, hard, passionate. When he finally put her down, she was trembling.
“Go home,” he said firmly, leading her to the door with her purse in his hand.
“Throwing me out?” she teased.
He chuckled. “Saving you,” he murmured wickedly. “I need a cold shower.”
She touched his chest with her hand, dizzy and aching with new sensations, new joy. “I know you already know it,” she said softly. “But I love you.”
He traced her mouth with his fingertip. The words bit into him, made him feel guilty. He wanted her, but he didn’t feel that emotion for her. Not yet. He just smiled. “Drive carefully. Call me when you get home.”
He didn’t say it, but he had to feel something powerful for her, she was certain of it. She beamed. “Okay. Good night.”
“Good night, angel,” he said softly.
He watched her walk away with feelings of utter self-contempt. He’d taken advantage of what she felt for him, lost control and put her at risk. Now he had to stand by and wait to find out if she became pregnant, knowing that if she did, he’d be forced to marry her to save her reputation. It wasn’t the best night of his life, despite the lingering pleasure that reminded him of the afternoon.
Chapter Six
Violet managed to slip into her house without being seen by her mother. She was disheveled and her hair was a mess. Her mother wasn’t blind or stupid, she’d know that something torrid had been going on. To prevent any uncomfortable questions, Violet had called to her and then went straight to her room without letting herself be seen.
From there, she went to the kitchen, trying not to let her mind wander to the afternoon. Then she remembered that she’d promised to bring her mother some trout. She groaned inwardly. She heated her mother a bowl of soup and crackers for supper.
“I’m sorry about the trout,” she began. But she was beaming and she couldn’t help it.
Mrs. Hardy grinned. “Never mind that. Soup is fine. You’ve got feathers on your lips, my darling cat,” she chided. “So what’s going on with you and that dishy man?”
So much for deterring her mother’s suspicions. Violet blushed, grinning back. “The boss man is talking about rings.”
Her mother gasped. “Darling!”
Violet laughed. “Can you believe it? And we were fighting and giving each other fits just last week!”
“He didn’t really know you before, though,” the older woman pointed out as she sipped soup from a spoon. “You were too shy to be yourself with him.”
“I was,” Violet agreed, vaguely ashamed of what had happened, just the same.
“Did he mention a date?”
Violet shook her head. “We’re going to take it one day at a time,” she replied.
Mrs. Hardy only smiled. She knew that when couples got to the ring stage, weddings very often came quickly. “I’ve only ever wanted to live long enough to see you married and secure,” she said absently.
“You’d better be around longer than that,” Violet chided. “I can’t do without you!”
“Bosh,” the other woman murmured. “You’ve got your own life to live. I’m just about done with mine.”
“Don’t you talk like that,” her daughter chided. “You’re not nearly done. You have so much to look forward to!”
“Such as?” Mrs. Hardy asked, her eyes lackluster.
“Grandchildren!” she replied, and blushed again, because she could already be pregnant.
The older woman sat very still. “Grandchildren. Why…I hadn’t thought…” She glanced at Violet. “Does he want children, then?”
“Of course,” Violet said, smiling.
“He must have changed his mind,” Mrs. Hardy mused to herself.
Violet felt a sinking sensation. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, it’s just something he mentioned that day he came over to talk to me, dear,” she said, sipping more soup. “He said that he’d never have a child.”
Violet felt sick. “Did he?”
Her mother hadn’t noticed Violet’s sudden lack of color and enthusiasm. She was thinking. “Men often think like that, until they have a child. But he was rather emphatic about it, just the same.”
“I wonder why,” Violet murmured aloud, uncomfortable.
Her mother glanced at her worriedly. “You mustn’t let on that I told you,” she said.
“Told me what, Mother?”
Mrs. Hardy grimaced. “Mr. Kemp is a very upright man these days, but he was young and irresponsible once. I’d heard something about the Culbertson girl, from a nurse I know. I asked him about it. He was shocked enough to tell me the truth about her. She was pregnant when she died. It was his child. He hadn’t known about it, although he would have married her sooner if he had. The coroner covered up her pregnancy, to spare her parents the embarrassment. But it affected him terribly. He lost not only his fiancée, but his child as well. He said that just the thought of a child gave him nightmares now, brought it all back to haunt him.”
Violet sat down, hard. It was worse than she’d imagined. Blake didn’t want children. She’d pushed him off balance and they’d had unprotected sex. He was making the best of things, but he’d never said that he loved her and he’d intimated that if she turned up pregnant, they’d have to make arrangements. Could that mean that he didn’t want a child, ever, after what had happened with his fiancée?
She felt sick to her soul. What was she going to do?
“Dear, what’s wrong?” Mrs. Hardy asked with a frown.
Violet forced a smile. “Nothing. I shouldn’t be jealous of a dead woman, should I?” she added, leading her mother right into the false conclusion that she was thinking about Shannon.
Mrs. Hardy relaxed. “Yes, dear. You shouldn’t.”
Violet changed the subject. But she didn’t sleep very much that night. She was sick with worry. How could she have been so blind and stupid? She was going to pay a high price for her one hour of passion. She’d thought it was worth anything at the time. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
She went to work Monday morning with uncertain feelings. She dreaded and anticipated seeing Blake again, both at once. Duke Wright smiled at her as he put her to work on new herd records, and he looked as if he might have known something about her day at Blake Kemp’s house. But he didn’t say anything.
Curt did. He grinned at her as he paused beside her desk. “I hear you were out at Kemp’s place over the weekend,” he murmured.
She gasped. “How…?”
“Jacobsville is a small town,” he said pleasantly. “Kemp’s driveway faces a major highway. Your car would stick out in a parking lot.”
She grimaced. “I didn’t think about that.”
“Stop looking so tragic,” he said gently. “You’re both free and single. Nobody’s going to make snide remarks to either of you about spending an afternoon together. Is it true about the cats?” he added quickly.
“What…about the cats?”
“That they’re so jealous of Kemp that visitors can’t get near him,” he replied.
“They weren’t so bad,” she confided. “Well, I did sort of get scratched by one of them. But it was just a little scratch.”
“The rumor is that the more Kemp likes someone, the worse the cats are,” he told her. “In which case, you’d better wear body armor if you go over there very much.”
“Siamese do tend to be temperamental, I guess,” she said, wondering how many people had seen her car at Kemp’s house.
“We had a dog once that hated Libby’s boyfriend, when she was about fourteen,” he recalled. “The dog sat and growled at him the whole time he was in the house. Then one day the boy brought him a beef bone. The next time he came over, the dog met him at the door and licked him half to death.”
She pursed her lips and smiled mischievously. “I wonder if Siamese like beef bones?”
He chuckled and went on out to work.
Violet had halfway hoped that she might hear from Blake during the day. After all, they’d been lovers. But he didn’t call. It was a disappointment, and her self-confidence took a nosedive. All her hopes began to drown in doubt. She went through her normal routine, answering the phone and taking messages, and typing letters for Duke Wright after he dictated them. It was a normal day. Nothing out of the ordinary. She could have cried.
Once, she almost picked up the phone and called his office. But that would never do. She couldn’t look as if she were chasing him. Perhaps he just needed breathing space, in order to get used to the changed relationship between them. Surely, it was just that.
By the end of the day, she was feeling dismal. She wondered if perhaps Blake had phoned while she was briefly out of the office, because she had to run to town for Duke Wright and pick up a special delivery letter he was expecting, at the post office.
She had the opportunity to ask him as she gathered her purse and sweater to go home. He walked in with a sealed letter that needed a stamp.
“Could you drop that by the post office for me on your way home, Violet?” he asked.
“Certainly.” She put on the stamp and gave him a shy glance. “Uh, there weren’t any, uh, messages for me while I was gone earlier…?” she faltered.
He cocked an eyebrow and grinned. “From your ex-boss, you mean?”
She flushed. “Well…”
“There’s a hard case, if ever there was one,” he said. “You’re taking a chance, Violet. A big one.”
“Sir?”
“We all know you were out at his house,” he replied easily. “News travels like wildfire around here. We’ve heard that those cats don’t like company at all.”
“They’re sort of antagonistic,” she confessed, without mentioning her scratches.
“Kemp took another lawyer home for supper one day and the man had to go to the emergency room. He was allergic to cat scratches.”
She cleared her throat. “They are sort of possessive,” she replied. “But I’m no threat. We’re just friends,” Violet said firmly. “He wanted to introduce me to his cats.”
“That explains everything,” Duke mused, grinning. “It’s the cats who are interested in you, then?”
Curt Collins poked his head in the door, shamelessly eavesdropping. “And of course, Kemp loves his cats, so he brings home strangers that he thinks they’ll like,” he added.
“You two!” Violet exclaimed, laughing at the absurdity of it all. “I’m leaving. See you tomorrow.”
They said their goodbyes and watched her go out the door.
She knew what they meant about the cats.
Mr. Kemp was a notorious loner. He never took women to his house. If he was entertaining Violet on the weekend, something was going on. She knew it was all over town if even Duke Wright knew about her visit. She wondered if the gossip had gotten back to Blake and that’s why he hadn’t phoned her. Of course, he could be feeling regret at his loss of control as well. She was feeling something similar. Her only excuse was that she loved him. Sadly, she knew it wasn’t the same with him. Desire wasn’t love.
Violet spent a sleepless night worrying about her lapse of judgment at Kemp’s house, and his avoidance of her. She couldn’t forget what her mother had said, about his attitude toward children. She hoped with all her heart that there wouldn’t be consequences. Surely, she couldn’t get pregnant from one brief interlude!
She went to work the next morning and found Duke Wright making coffee. He glanced up when she came in the door, and smiled at her.
“I’ve got to be out of town today. Think you can hold the office together until I get back?”
“I’ll do my best, sir,” she promised.
“If Kemp shows up, you can have a long lunch hour,” he added with a grin. “But don’t let him know I said that.”
“He’s not a bad man.”
“You don’t have my perspective on him,” Duke replied quietly.
She was aware of that. Duke’s divorce had been a messy one, and he blamed Kemp for his wife’s unreasonable demands. She didn’t say a word.
He shrugged. “Sorry. I have bad memories. I’ll see you tomorrow, Violet.”
“Yes, sir,” she said. “Have a safe trip.”
“I hope to.”
She watched him walk out with a sense of foreboding. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was going on.
And it was. Kemp walked into his office and motioned Libby Collins back down the hall with him.
He told her the results of the state crime lab’s autopsy on her father, which was negative.
She was relieved, and showed it.
“But the opposite was true of Violet’s father,” he said quietly. “Don’t tell her, and don’t tell Curt until I’ve had time to get out to Wright’s ranch. I’m going to tell Violet in person and then take her home and help her break the news to her mother. It’s going to be an ordeal for them. If we can catch Janet Collins, we’ll charge her with first degree murder. Violet and her mother will both have to testify, and it will resurrect some terrible memories for old Mrs. Hardy. I’m not sure her heart will take it.”
“What can be done?”
He shrugged. “The only thing I know is to try and reach a plea agreement, if I can talk the D.A. into it. If Janet can expect something less than life in prison, she might confess. I’ll have to see. Right now, my priority is to make sure Violet doesn’t hear it on the six o’clock news. There were reporters sniffing around this afternoon.”
“Poor Violet,” Libby said sadly. “Please, tell her if she needs me, I’ll be there.”
“I will. But I’m sure she knows it already. Hold down the fort for me.”
“You bet.”
All the way to Duke Wright’s place, Kemp worried about Violet’s reaction. He was still aching from their brief interlude, and he was uneasy about facing Violet again. She was a shy, introverted woman who’d had no real experience with men. He’d taken advantage of that. She might hate him for it. Just the same, he had to do what he could for her and her mother. It wasn’t going to be easy for either of them to face the fact that Mr. Hardy had been murdered.
Violet was just finishing the last of the new cattle herd files when she heard footsteps coming into her office.
She looked up, and her heart jumped wildly as she saw Blake Kemp for the first time since their passionate afternoon. She colored furiously as he came into the room and paused just in front of her desk. He looked very elegant in a pale gray vested suit, not a hair out of place. His blue eyes were quiet and sympathetic as they met hers.
“Is something wrong?” she asked at once, uneasy because of the way he looked.
“Yes, Violet,” he replied. “We have to speak to your mother. Will Wright let you leave early?”
“He’s not here today,” she faltered. She stood up. “What’s happened?”
“We just got the results back on your father’s autopsy. He was poisoned, Violet. It wasn’t a natural death. It was murder.”
Murder. Murder. She felt the blood draining out of her face. Janet Collins had killed her father.
“That woman,” she bit off. “That damned, greedy woman killed my father!”
He moved around the desk quickly and pulled her into his arms, wrapping her up tight. “It’s all right,” he murmured softly at her ear, contracting his arms when she began to shiver. “We’ll make her pay for it. I swear we will.”