Page 28 of Texas Honor

“Fortunately for you I didn’t.” He got to his feet and stretched lazily, feeling as if he’d been beaten, but he wasn’t letting her see that. He grinned down at her. “Men get good at pulling back. It comes from years of practice dating virgins,” he added in a wicked whisper as he extended a hand to her.

She sat up, flushed, ignoring his outstretched hand as she scrambled to her feet. “I can’t imagine that many of them were still virgins afterward,” she muttered with a shy glance.

“Oh, some of them had great powers of resistance,” he admitted. “Like you.”

“Sure,” she said shakily, pushing back her damp hair. “Some great resistance. If you hadn’t stopped...”

“But I did,” he interrupted. He picked up his hat from where he’d tossed it and studied the crown before he put it back on his head. “And for the time being you can forget going back to Georgia,” he added with a level gaze. “Lillian needs you. Maybe I need you, too. You’ve given me a new perspective on things.”

“I’ve butted in and made a spectacle of myself, you mean,” she said, her eyes quietly curious on his hard, dark face.

“If I’d meant that, I’d have said it,” he returned. “You’re a breath of fresh air in my life, Mari. I was getting set in my wicked ways until you came along. Maybe you were right about my attitude toward money. So why don’t you stay and reform me?”

“I can’t imagine anyone brave enough to try,” she said. She lifted her face. “And besides all that, how dare you cost me my job!”

“You can’t work in a garage full of men anymore,” he said blandly. “Remember your horrible nightmares about the assault?” he added. “Men make you nervous. Lillian said so.”

“Those men wouldn’t make anyone nervous. All they did was work on cars and go home to their wives,” she informed him. “Not one of them was single.”

“How sad for you. What wonderful luck that Lillian found me dying and sent for you.” He grinned. “It isn’t every girl who gets handed a single, handsome, rich bachelor on a platter.”

“I am not a gold digger,” she shot at him.

“Oh, hell, I know that,” he said after a minute, studying her through narrowed eyes. “But I had to have some kind of defense, didn’t I? You’re a potent little package, honey. A fish on the hook does fight to the bitter end.”

His words didn’t make much sense to her, but Mari was a little dazed by everything that had happened. She just stared at him, puzzled.

“Never mind,” he said, taking her hand. “Let’s go back. I’ve got a few odds and ends to take care of before lunch. Do you like to ride?”

“I think so,” she admitted.

“You can have your own horse next time,” he promised. “But for now I think we’ll walk back. I’m just about out of self-control, if you want the truth. I can’t handle you at a close proximity right now.”

That was embarrassing and flattering, and she hid a smile. But he saw it and gathered her close to his side, leading the horse by the reins with one hand and holding her with the other. The conversation on the way back was general, but the feel of Ward’s strong arm had Mari enthralled every step of the way.

He went off to make some business calls. Lillian took one look at Mari’s face and began humming love songs. Mari, meanwhile, went up to her room to freshen up and took time to borrow one of the outside lines to call Atlanta. Her boss at the garage was delighted to hear from her and immediately burst into praise of her unselfishness to help that “poor dying man in Texas.” How fortunate, he added brightly, that a young woman about Mari’s age had just applied for a job the morning poor Mr. Jessup had called him. Everything had worked out just fine, hadn’t it, and how did she like Texas?

She mumbled something about the weather being great for that time of year, thanked him and hung up. Poor Mr. Jessup, indeed!

Ward had to go out on business later in the day, and he wasn’t back by supper time. Lillian and Mari ate alone, and after Mari had finished helping in the kitchen, she kissed her aunt good night and went upstairs. She was torn between disappointment and relief that Ward hadn’t been home since that feverish interlude. It had been so sweet that she’d wanted it again and that could be dangerous. Each time it got harder to stop. Today she hadn’t been able to do anything except follow where he led, and it was like some heady alcoholic beverage—she just couldn’t get enough of him. She didn’t really know what to do anymore. Her life seemed to be tangled up in complications.

She laid out a soft pink gown on the bed—a warm but revealing one with a low neckline—and fingered it lovingly. It had been an impulse purchase, something to cheer her up on a depressing Saturday when she had been alone. It was made of flannelette, but it was lacy and expensive, and she loved the way it felt and clung to the slender lines of her body.

She ran a bath in the big Jacuzzi and turned on the jets after filling the tub with fragrant soap that was provided, along with anything else a feminine guest might need, in the pretty blue-tiled bathroom. To Mari, who lived in a small efficiency apartment in Atlanta, it was really plush. She frowned as she stripped off her clothing and climbed into the smooth tub with its relaxing jets of water surging around her. The apartment rent was due in a week or so, and she hadn’t paid it yet. She’d have to send a check. She also wished that she’d brought more clothes with her. She hadn’t counted on being here for life, but it looked as if Ward wasn’t in any hurry to let her go.

Too, there was Lillian, who was behaving herself only as long as her niece was around to make her. If Mari left, what would happen to the older woman? With Ward away on business so often, it was dangerous for Lillian to be left alone now. Perhaps Ward had considered that, and it was why he wanted Mari to stay. The real reason, anyway. He didn’t seem to be dying of love for her, although his desire was apparent. He wanted her.

With all her turbulent thoughts and the humming sound of the Jacuzzi, she didn’t hear the door to her room open or hear it close again. She didn’t hear the soft footfalls on the carpet, or the soft sound that came from a particularly male voice as Ward saw her sitting up in the tub with her pretty pink breasts bare and glistening with soap and water.

She happened to glance up then and saw him. She couldn’t move. His green eyes were steady and loving on the soft curves of her body, and with horror she felt the tips of her breasts harden under his intent scrutiny.

He shook his head when she started to lift her hands to them. “No,” he said gently, moving toward her. “No, don’t cover them, Mari.”

She could hardly get her breath. Although she’d never let anyone see her like this in all her life, she couldn’t stop him. Mari couldn’t seem to move at all. He towered over her, still and somber, and as she watched, he began to roll up the sleeves of the white shirt that was open halfway down his chest. He’d long ago shed his jacket and tie, although he was still wearing dress boots and suit trousers. He looked expensive and very masculine and disturbing, and as he bent beside the tub, she caught the scent of luxurious cologne.

“You mustn’t!” she began frantically.

But he picked up the big fluffy sponge she’d soaped and shook his head, smiling faintly. “Think of it as a service for a special, tired guest,” he whispered amusedly, although his eyes were frankly possessive. “Lie back and enjoy it.”

---