Denim and Lace (21 page)

“An excellent idea, Miss Samson,” Julie returned. “This unrequited affair can't be allowed to go on. We have to save Nell from certain spinsterhood.”

“I'll do my part.” Bess stretched, her muscles sore from all the sitting. “It's so nice to be back to work. The flowers you all sent were lovely.”

“So you've said, several dozen times.” Julie chuckled. “They were our pleasure. We wanted to come and see you, but your Mr. Hollister wouldn't let anybody in. From what we hear, even Mr. Ryker was denied admittance.” She grinned at Bess's wild color. “Didn't you know? I thought the aforesaid Mr. Hollister didn't have any designs on you...?”

“Actually we got engaged while I was at Lariat,” Bess said, finally giving up her most precious secret.

“Congratulations! We'll have to have a party.”

“Not yet,” Bess pleaded. “It's still hard for me to get used to the idea, and Cade hasn't given up trying to bulldoze me to the altar. I just want a little time.” She lowered her eyes. “There's something he doesn't know.”

“Care to tell a new friend who's first cousin to several clams?” Julie asked. “I know something's been on your mind since you've been back. But you're like me—a very private person. I hesitated to ask if you wanted to talk.”

“I need to talk to somebody.” Bess sighed. “I can't tell my mother. Even though we're better friends now than we were, she tells everything she knows. And there isn't anybody else.” She sat down heavily. “I'm barren,” she blurted out. “The accident did some internal damage, and now I can't have a child.”

“Oh, Bess.” Julie sat down in the chair next to her, holding her hand tightly. “I'm so sorry. But if your Mr. Hollister still wants to marry you...”

“He doesn't know.” She lifted tormented eyes. “I'm afraid to tell him. I don't know how to tell him. He's one of those old-line dynasty founders. He wants to leave Lariat to his sons to build on. How can I tell him that there won't ever be sons, or daughters for that matter?”

“Does he love you?” the older woman asked.

Bess shrugged. “He wants me,” she said. “And in his way he cares about me. I'm not sure he knows what love is. If he loves me, he's never told me.” Not even, she thought, at that moment of supreme intimacy. She colored, remembering.

“Some men have a hard time saying the words,” Julie said. “That doesn't mean he doesn't feel them. You might give him the chance to decide for himself.”

“If I do that, I've lost him forever.” Her eyes closed. “I'm trying to work up the courage, but every time I think I've got it, I draw back. He's going to hate me.”

“Worrying about it is going to make it worse,” she pointed out. “He might surprise you and not react at all.”

“That would be a surprise, all right. You don't know Cade. I do.” She stared down at her lap. “I'm such a coward.”

“I wouldn't say that,” Julie replied. “Is there any way I can help?”

Bess shook her head. “But thank you for listening. It helped just to get it out in the open. I'd better get back to work.”

Julie walked with her to the door. “I'm always here if you need someone to listen,” she said, smiling. “But whatever you decide to do, don't wait too long.”

“No. I won't. If I...marry Cade, can I go on working here?” she asked.

“You idiot,” Julie's mouth pulled down at one corner. “Do I look like the kind of boss who discriminates? I mean, look around, I've actually hired
men
to work here!”

Bess burst out laughing and walked off down the hall, shaking her head.

Three weeks had gone by, and there hadn't been a word from Cade. Gussie heard from Elise, who said that the boys were busy with moving the cattle to summer pasture and finishing the roundup, but there wasn't much news otherwise. Nothing specific about Cade, except that he was going to be competing in the San Antonio rodeo. Bess was sure that he'd come to see her while he was in town. It was still a couple of weeks away. She started planning what she was going to wear, and every night she dreamed about how it would be to see him again, to hear his voice, to touch him.

Only the ring on her finger was left to remind her of what had happened between them. She kissed it hungrily, drowning in her love for him. At least she had that one, sweet memory of him. Now, if she just had the courage not to give in to the aching desire to marry him. If she could just convince him that she didn't want to give up her job. She sighed. If only she could fly.

The long nights at her apartment were full of erotic dreams of Cade and nightmares about losing him forever. She didn't sleep well at all. Her most vivid memory was of Cade's careless kiss and confident, mocking smile just before she and Gussie had driven back to San Antonio from Lariat. Cade seemed to be sure that she wouldn't be able to stand it for long without him. He was right. By the end of the fourth week she was in agony with frustration and loneliness.

Gussie had been at work, too. She stopped by the apartment to see Bess, aglow with her success and enthusiastic about her widowed business partner.

“It's very exciting, working for a living,” Gussie said enthusiastically as they sat in the small kitchen in Bess's apartment and drank coffee.

Her mother even looked different, she thought, from the smart tailored suits to the very elegant short hairdo. Her mother had become a real dish. No more flamboyant clothes, no more ultra-young hair styles. Gussie was acting her age, and doing it with chic sophistication. She seemed to have grown up, like her daughter.

“I meant to call you last week, but they've given me a new assignment and I'm going crazy,” Bess confessed. “What can you say about ballpoint pens that hasn't been said twenty thousand times?”

“You'll think of something,” Gussie said confidently. “If I could find a job for a former marine gunnery officer with a yen to be a singer, believe me, you can advertise something to write with.”

Bess's eyebrows lifted. “What did you find him a job doing?”

Gussie grinned. “Working for one of those singing telegram companies.”

Bess threw up her hands. “Well, if I ever need a job, you're going to be the first person I go to see,” she returned. She sipped her coffee, eyeing her mother. “Isn't it wild?” she asked softly. “Here we are, rich women with cultured lifestyles, out on our own for the first time. And we're making it, by the sweat of our own brows.”

“Thanks to you,” Gussie acknowledged. “If you hadn't made me open my eyes, I'd still be out there sponging on my old friends.” She hid her face in her beautifully manicured hands. “My gosh, I can't believe I imposed like that on them. I never thought I was such a selfish woman until Frank died and I saw myself the way others were seeing me.”

“You were just lonely and afraid,” Bess said, touching the older woman's arm gently. “So was I. We had to find our feet, but we did.”

“Indeed we did.” Gussie's eyes warmly approved her daughter's neat pantsuit and elegant coiffure. “If Cade could see you like this,” she mused.

Bess flushed and lowered her eyes. “I'm trying not to think about Cade.”

“Why? Darling, he cares about you so much. If you could have seen him when you were in the hospital,” she added urgently, “you'd know how much he cares. It was what really changed my mind about him. I knew then that he'd never use you to try to get back at me, or for any other reason. I felt as sorry for him as I did for myself.”

“He felt responsible,” Bess replied. “Maybe he still does. He isn't a loving man. He's self-sufficient and very independent. He wants me, Mama, but that isn't love.”

“For men it sometimes suffices,” Gussie said gently. “Anyway, it will work out all by itself eventually. Meanwhile you just have a good time being your own boss for a while. Without any well-meaning help from me and Cade,” she said, grinning.

Bess got up and hugged her warmly. “I love you, warts and all,” she said, kissing the blond hair. “Now let's go and watch that new entertainment program and you can tell me about your partner.”

The new partner was Jess Davis, and to hear Gussie talk, he was Superman on the side. It was pleasant to know that the older woman had found someone she could enjoy spending time with, enjoy working with. So far it was only a business relationship—Gussie made that very clear. But Bess had her suspicions, even though she was pretty sure that Gussie would take her time before she made any commitments. She'd loved Frank Samson, despite her faults. She still hadn't quite gotten over his death, at least not enough to be considering marriage so soon afterward.

Bess had hoped that Gussie knew something about Cade and how he was doing, but she didn't. It bothered Bess that Cade hadn't called or written. She'd expected that he would. Perhaps he'd expected her to make the first move. But it seemed as if she always made the first move these days, and now her hands were tied. It would be better for both of them if he let the engagement slide and didn't try to step it up. But it hurt Bess that he'd seemed not to care anymore. Unless it had been guilt on his part all along, and now that Bess was back at work and out of sight, perhaps he didn't feel guilty anymore.

She was sitting in her office late on a Friday afternoon, over six weeks after she'd left Lariat, when the door opened and she looked up from a mechanical she was finalizing, straight into Cade Hollister's dark eyes.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

I
T
WAS
LIKE
holding a bare electric wire, Bess thought, meeting that level stare. Like being caught in an electrical field. Jolts ran through her body, stiffened her, pushed her pulse rate up, quickened her breathing. Her body reacted to him immediately, her lips parting, her breasts swelling, her stomach tightening at just the sight of him. He was wearing gray slacks with a muted gray-and-beige-plaid jacket, matching gray boots and Stetson, and he looked like an ad for a Western cologne. Her heart fed on him, dark-faced, somber, his powerful body unconsciously sensuous as he moved toward her, closing the door quietly behind him.

“It's been six weeks,” he said without giving her a chance to say anything. His eyes ran over her gray pantsuit with the tiny white camisole top under it, the upswept elegance of her honey-brown hair in its coiffure, the white flower tucked in over her ear. She looked lovely. Radiant. “Are you pregnant?” he asked bluntly.

Her breath was stuck in her throat, along with any words she might have found to answer him. She was sure that she wasn't pregnant, although she was later than usual in her monthly rhythm. But the long weeks without Cade had melted her resolve, left her weak and wanting. She tingled all over with the need to run into his arms, to kiss him until they were both breathless, to rip open his shirt and run her hands through the thick hair on his chest. Her own hunger shocked her.

“I don't know,” she blurted out, flushing.

He took off his Stetson and dropped it into a chair, apparently unruffled by her reply. “Good. We'll get married and find out later,” he said, half under his breath. His eyes glittered as he stared down at her from a scant few feet. “My God, come here!” he said, holding out his arms.

She got up from her chair even as he reached for her. He pressed her hungrily against him, and his hard mouth bit into hers with exquisite ferocity. She melted into him, no protest left, praying that her deception wouldn't be found out until he was as hopelessly in love as she was. Her mouth opened eagerly under his, bringing again the agonizing pleasure she remembered so well as his tongue thrust deep inside her mouth and her body clenched at the motion.

She moaned, and one lean hand slid down her body to arch her hips into the fierce arousal of his. She clung to him, giving him back the kiss as ardently as he offered it, drowning in him.

Neither of them heard the door open. But a soft, amused sound penetrated the fog of desire. Cade lifted his head, but he didn't let go of Bess or relinquish his tight hold on her.

Nell stood there, grinning wickedly as she glanced from Bess to Cade. “Well, when you two say ‘Thank God, it's Friday,' you mean it, don't you?” She cleared her throat. “Just thought I'd mention the company picnic Sunday afternoon, if you can manage.”

“I'll do my best,” Bess said huskily, still trying to catch her breath. “Did Julie give you what we bought for you?”

“The dress, you mean?” Nell shifted restlessly. “Well, it won't work. I mean, Mr. Ryker could have anybody he wanted, and I'm just small fry...”

“You're a knockout,” Bess returned. “And he's human. You just wear that dress, smile at him and let nature take care of itself. By the way,” she added, “he doesn't think women are attracted to him.”

“That's helpful.” Nell glanced up at Cade. “Uh, I'd better get going. Have a nice weekend.” She stifled a giggle. “See you Monday if I don't see you Sunday.”

“Yes.” Bess felt Cade's breath on her mouth as the door closed and she looked up to see a devastating look in his dark eyes. “She's sweet on Mr. Ryker,” she said falteringly.

“I'm sweet on you,” he murmured. His teeth nipped lovingly at her lower lip, tugging it gently. “God, six weeks is too long, Bess.”

“I know.” She stretched up against him, pulling his head down. “Kiss me,” she whispered into his mouth. “I want to suffocate under your mouth...oh!”

The words had kindled his own hunger into a wild flame. He brought her even closer, his mind wavering while he tried to decide how much trouble they could get in if he pushed her back onto the desk and let nature take its course.

“We've got to stop or lock the door, honey,” he said unsteadily, lifting his dark head with obvious reluctance. “There is such a thing as the point of no return, and we're standing on it.”

Her hands slid down his hard arms with pure possession. “How soon are you going to marry me?” she asked, pushing the reasons against it to the back of her mind in the delicious joy of belonging to him and knowing he belonged to her.

“My God, how soon can I?” he asked. “According to the law, it'll take three days, I guess.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “Monday we'll start the ball rolling. We'll get married on Thursday. You do get a lunch hour?” he asked huskily.

“Of course.”

“It will have to be a small wedding. No fanfare. No bridesmaids,” he warned.

“I don't care,” she said, and she meant it. “I love you. We can get married in a bus, for all it matters to me.”

He smiled unsteadily. “Okay. A bus it is. How about on the Paseo del Rio?” he asked. “In a boat, with mariachis playing and flowers everywhere?”

She gasped. “Could we?”

He shrugged. “Why not?”

“Oh, Cade, that would be wonderful!”

“I'll make the arrangements.” He framed her face in his hands and kissed her softly. “Let's go. I'll take you out to dinner and then we'll go to your apartment, where I'll say good night like a gentleman and swim back up to my hotel.”

“Swim?”

“By then I'll need either a swim or a cold shower.” He groaned, kissing her again. “Thursday can't come quickly enough to suit me.”

She smiled under his mouth, because he sounded desperate. Where there was smoke, there was fire, didn't they say? Well, if he wanted her that badly and missed her so much, he had to care. She'd be the best wife in the whole world, and maybe then he wouldn't hate her when she finally told him the truth...

* * *

I
T
WAS
A
magical night. They ate on the Paseo del Rio, the River Walk that bordered the San Antonio River as it wound its way through the tree-lined city. They sat watching the river while they dined on steak and potatoes, with a mile-high strawberry pie and whipped cream dessert afterward. Cade looked at her with soft dark eyes that fed on her face, and her hands shook so badly from the scrutiny that she turned over her water glass and dropped her fork twice. It made her feel better that Cade's hands trembled when he tried to light his cigarette. If she was affected, so was he.

“Did you come just to see me?” she asked.

“In a way. I'm here for the rodeo. I have to go back when we finish and check my equipment. I'm staying over tonight so that I can get an early start in the morning. I've only signed up for two events, so I'll be through by tomorrow night. We can go to that picnic if you want to,” he said with a smile.

“I'd like that,” she said. “I can show you off to everybody.”

He smiled as he linked her fingers with his. “You can show off your ring to Ryker,” he said, lifting the hand that wore it. “Yes, I know, Nell's sweet on him. I just want him to know who you belong to. In case he had any ideas.”

She smiled at his show of jealousy. She liked that possessive streak in him very much. “I don't know that I can bear to watch, but can I go with you to the rodeo tomorrow?”

“Sure. You can save me from the bronc if I fall under his hooves.” He laughed at her expression. “I was kidding. Listen, honey, I've been doing this for a lot of years. It's dangerous, yes, but you can cut the risk if you're responsible and don't play around with your equipment or tempt fate. I'll be fine. There's a big purse. I can't afford to miss out.”

“I'd give you back the pearls,” she offered.

He shook his head. “You can keep those for our kids,” he said and his eyes darkened and softened with the hunger for them.

Bess dropped her gaze to the table.
Tell him
, she thought.
Tell him now,
before it goes further.
Be sure.
But she looked back up, and the expression on his face stopped her dead. She couldn't lose him now. She couldn't!

“Are you going back to Lariat Sunday?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Gary and Robert are looking out for things while I'm gone. These few days are ours. Yours and mine. I want to spend as much time as possible with you. I planned to be away a few days because I thought I might have to convince you to marry me,” he added with a slow smile. “I had a long night in mind if you said no.”

“Cade!”

“A man has to use whatever weapons he has.” He sighed. “I couldn't have stood it much longer.” His dark eyes blazed as he looked at her. “Amazing how vivid memories get as you move away from them,” he said. “I can't sleep at night for remembering how it was.”

She lowered her embarrassed eyes because she remembered, too. “I don't sleep very well either,” she confessed. Her fingers tightened in his grasp. “I thought I'd go crazy...!”

“That makes two of us.” His jaw tightened as he searched her face. “Let's get out of here,” he said huskily.

She lifted her face. She wanted to protest, to tell him that she couldn't do that with him again. But the look on his face made it impossible to say no. She got up from the table and followed him to the checkout counter. They walked to the car, hand in hand, without a word as the tension built to flash point between them. By the time they got back to Bess's apartment, she was trembling with it.

He closed the door behind them and leaned back against it, studying her with a gaze that made her knees tremble.

“While I can still think straight,” he managed, “we'd better set some limits. Do you want to wait until we're married?”

He didn't have to put it into words. She knew what he was asking. She put her purse down and leaned against the back of the sofa, looking at him. “Yes,” she said quietly.

“So do I,” he said, surprising her. “We jumped the gun, and I've regretted that a lot. The only good thing about it is that we've got the worst part out of the way. I'll never have to hurt you a second time. Our wedding night will be new for you because of that. I'm sorry I cheated you out of all of it.”

She smiled softly. “I couldn't have stopped either,” she confessed. “And like you said, Cade, we weren't playing games or making some casual entertainment out of it. We were committed, even then.”

“And still are.” He shouldered away from the door and moved toward her. “More than ever.”

She stiffened a little as his lean hands slid past her hips to rest on the high back of the sofa. His body moved closer, so that she could feel the warmth and strength of his muscles, smell the cologne he wore, feel his coffee-scented breath on her lips as he searched her eyes.

“You said you'd tell me the story of this ring you gave me,” she managed huskily.

He smiled. “I'll tell you on our wedding night,” he replied. “It's a pretty special tale.”

“Do...you want some more coffee?” she whispered, because his mouth was coming closer, and despite his assurances she wasn't sure that she could trust either one of them.

“Not really,” he murmured just above her lips. “I want to lay you down on the sofa and ease my body on top of you.” She blushed, and he chuckled softly. “Yes, you want it, too. But we won't. However,” he murmured, one hand going to the buttons of her jacket, “don't expect to get away from me as neat as you are right now.” He pulled the jacket sensuously off her arms and studied the delicate, white lace-edged satin of her camisole. Under it she was bare, and he could see that her nipples were rigid with desire.

His hand turned, so that just the backs of his fingers ran lightly over the fabric, deliciously abrasive against that tautness. She gasped, and he did it again, loving the way she clutched at his hard arms.

“On the sofa or on the bed, Bess?” he said breathily. “Because I've got to have more than this.”

“The sofa...then.” She gulped as he lifted her easily in his hard arms and moved away from the sofa. “It's...safer.”

“Do you think so, little one?” His mouth settled softly on hers, teasing it, as he sat down on the cushions with Bess across his lap. “I'll bet you money that it's every bit as dangerous as the bed once we start touching.”

She couldn't manage an answer. His hands were under the camisole, without much room to maneuver, but they were expert and sensuous all the same, rising up and down the soft slopes of her bare breasts without even coming close to the hard arousal of them.

“Oh, yes, that aches, doesn't it?” he asked with faint malice, his eyes dancing with pride as he watched her headlong reaction to him.

“I wish I could make you...ache as badly,” she choked, arching as her body betrayed her will and she tried to force his hands the rest of the way.

“You'll learn,” he murmured. “In the meantime I like you just the way you are. It's exciting to teach you how to do this.”

She gathered that from the wildness she saw glittering in his dark eyes. It was just as exciting to be taught, but she couldn't get the words out. He paused long enough to strip off his jacket and tie and unbutton his shirt. He drew her fingers inside, against damp hair and hard muscle, easing them along his chest. Her fingers moved involuntarily and suddenly discovered that a man's body was equally vulnerable to the same torment a woman's was.

It gave her a slight edge. She sighed and laid her cheek against his bare skin, liking the faint abrasion of all that hair covering him, smelling the soap and pure man scent of his powerful body as she returned his caresses.