“Well, if she doesn’t want to stay, you can’t keep her prisoner here.”
“I’m not. It’s not like that. It’s just that she used to love this place as a child. If it weren’t for Natalie forbidding her to visit…”
Luke had heard the story plenty of times over the years. Rusty had fallen from a horse and broken her arm when she was seven. Sam had promised Natalie not to let their daughter anywhere near the horses, but he’d lied. He’d been teaching Rusty to ride the summer the accident occurred. To punish him, Natalie had refused to let their daughter return to the farm, and instead had left the country, married the first man with money she’d found, and stuck Rusty in a boarding school in Switzerland. The woman had then somehow convinced Sam that he wasn’t a very good influence for a young girl, and that their daughter would be better off living abroad.
Sam had regretted his decision not to fight his ex-wife all those years. But now that Natalie was dead, Sam wanted his daughter back. Luke was afraid it was too late, but didn’t have the heart to tell his friend that, because Sam was determined, above all else, to repair his relationship with her.
“Luke, can’t you postpone your vacation a little longer? I need you to help me. You owe me.”
Another guilt trip. Why did he always let Sam do that to him? “What can I do? I’ve already let you talk me into lying to her. It’s not easy, carrying on this charade of yours, you know.” He paused, ran his hands through his hair. “Besides, I don’t think she likes me very much.”
“Sure she does.”
Luke snorted. “Okay, then. I don’t like her.” Or the state she’d left him in earlier. The cold shower he’d taken had done nothing to free his mind of her.
“Why not? When did you stop liking beautiful women?”
Narrowing his eyes, Luke stood up and pointed his finger at Sam. “When they think they can order me out of my own house.”
Sam waved a hand, dismissing Luke’s words. “You know women, they overreact. Once you get to know Rusty better, you’ll like her. She has a good heart, that one. Gonna make some lucky man a fine wife. Trust me.” Sam rearranged his pillows and leaned back against them, then plucked a cigar from the nightstand table, unwrapped it and lit up. After a few puffs, he said, “I can’t wait to get out of this damn bed.”
Luke took the tray off Sam’s bed and moved it to the top of the dresser. “Well, then you should have listened to Bill and let him do one foot at a time.” He glanced at Sam’s bandaged feet.
Snorting, Sam said, “You know how I feel about hospitals. I just wanted to get it all over with.” He blew a few smoke rings in the air and watched them hover above his head.
In other words, Sam was chicken, Luke thought.
Sam reverted the conversation back around to his daughter. “She used to love horses, you know.” Luke acknowledged the statement with a slight shrug of his shoulder. After a few moments of silence, Sam said, “You know, maybe it’s time for me to retire. Maybe I should think about finding a wife, someone to grow old with.”
“You’re already old.”
“Hah, what the hell do you know? Fifty-six isn’t old. I’m in the prime of my life.”
“Then why the hell are you talking about retiring?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m bored. What would you say if I told you I wanted out?”
“I’d say you’re crazy. Besides, even as well as we’ve been doing lately, you know I can’t afford to buy you out.” Last year’s winnings had been invested in the business and used to build a new stable and barn.
“I wasn’t talking about selling you my half. What if I gave it you? Would I still be welcome to live here? I mean, this has been my home forever. I’d like to see my grandkids running around outside … riding the horses.”
Luke paced the room for a moment, wondering why Sam would want to give everything away. He also wondered why was it so important to Sam that Luke like Rusty, that he stay around while she was here. And then it hit him. He turned to look at Sam. “Don’t be getting any ideas about your daughter and me getting together, because it isn’t going to happen. I pick my own women.”
“Yeah, well, you haven’t been picking so well. It’s time you were married with a couple of kids.”
Luke walked over to the dresser and picked up the dinner tray. “I’m serious,” he warned. “And for God’s sake, don’t be putting that kind of guilt trip on Rusty either.” He turned and walked toward the door, then stopped in his tracks and spun around. “That’s what this is all about! You want Rusty to stay, and you want a couple of grandkids running around, so you think you can push the two of us together. Well, it’s not going to work, damnit. I wouldn’t marry your daughter if you gave me your half of the business and a million dollars to go with it.”
After Luke stomped from the room and slammed the door, Sam smiled. “Wanna bet?”
Rusty had been half asleep when she sensed someone standing over the bed, watching her. She awoke fully with a start and almost screamed.
“Shhhh,” Galloway whispered. “It’s just me.”
The light in the hall burned brightly, outlining his body. After blinking several times, her eyes finally adjusted.
“What do you want?” she asked in a shaky breath.
She was almost afraid of his answer. What if he said he wanted her? Would she have the strength to resist him? Would she even try? Remembering his scorching kiss she doubted it. In fact, she wanted him to touch her again. To show her what she’d been missing all these years. She wanted to feel him deep inside her. Oh dear God, she thought. When had she become such a nymphomaniac?
“I brought you something to eat,” he said, startling her from her lusty thoughts. “Can I turn on the light?”
He’d brought her something to eat? She managed a weak, “Yes.”
He reached for the lamp on the bedside table and clicked it on. The lamp bathed the room with a soft yellow glow. Walking to the dresser, he picked up a tray and carried it to the bed. “I brought you some soup and crackers. And a banana.” Without waiting for her response, he wedged the tray around her hips, then sat beside her on the bed.
Rusty fixed her gaze on him. She could feel the heat from his body seeping through the covers and into her skin. But rather than ask him to leave, she welcomed his body heat and offered him a tentative smile. “Thank you. No one’s ever done anything like this for me.” A shiver ran up her spine.
“You’re cold. Here, eat this.” He picked up the spoon and dipped it into the bowl. “It’ll warm you up.”
Before she could tell him she could feed herself, he touched the spoon to her lips, and she opened her mouth. Canned soup. Some kind of rice with chicken broth. She didn’t really want it, but she didn’t want to appear unappreciative. “I can feed myself.” He placed the spoon in her hand and watched her take a bite. She was careful to avoid those penetrating eyes of his as she ate.
When the bowl was empty, he peeled back the banana, handed it to her and waited until she finished. Then he picked up the tray and walked to the door. “Good night, Princess. Remember, I’m just across the hall, if you need anything. Anything at all,” he added with a grin before pulling the door shut.
Rusty let her head fall back onto the pillow. She’d made a horrible mistake earlier. He’d kissed her senseless. That was never going to happen again. She was here to take care of her sick father, not to awaken her sexual side. And she was not Galloway’s personal plaything. It was time he understood that.
Rusty greeted him coolly when he entered the kitchen the next morning. “Good morning, Mr. Galloway.” She opened the refrigerator and stuck her head inside. Probably so she didn’t have to look at him.
“Good morning,” he muttered, then yawned, reaching for the can of coffee. He busied himself making the second pot this morning.
He’d tossed and turned most of the night, and just after he’d drifted off to sleep, it had been time to get up. After he’d finished the first pot of coffee, he’d looked in on Sam, then gone out to check on the horses and speak with Garvey and the trainers. He dumped an extra scoop of grounds in the filter and started the machine.
Turning away from the counter, he found Rusty emptying the refrigerator. She popped the lid from a plastic container, sniffed the contents, then dumped the leftovers in the sink. Above the whir of the garbage disposal and the running water, he shouted, “Can I ask what the hell you’re doing?”
“I’m making room for some healthy foods,” she said, repeating the same process with another container.
Luke watched her, but didn’t say anything. Apparently she thought she had the right to come into his home, his and Sam’s home, and toss their food out just because it didn’t appeal to her.
Why in hell had he let Sam talk him out of his fishing trip? Probably the same reason he’d let him talk him into going after Rusty in the first place. Guilt.
He sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair. Right now, he needed caffeine. As soon as the machine stopped percolating, he poured himself a cup and took a huge gulp of the steaming liquid. “Ahhhh,” he said, appreciating the instant jolt, just as Rusty bent over to inspect something on the bottom shelf of the refrigerator.
Her body stiffened, then straightened before she turned around to glare at him. Obviously she’d assumed that “Ahhhh” had been for her. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“Not at the moment.” He took another drink from his cup, leaning his long frame against the counter.
“Well, then,” she said, picking up a piece of paper from the counter and slapping it into his hand. “You can take care of this.”
“What’s this?” Luke asked, looking at the long list Rusty had just given him.
“Just a few things I’d like you to pick up at the store.” She pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat down, primly folding her hands in her lap. She wore another one of her thin cotton dresses and stockings on her legs. Red designer heels covered her feet. She reminded him of June Cleaver. Only Rusty was a lot hotter than June.
She’d pulled her hair back into another French twist. He liked it loose and free, touching her shoulders, the way she’d worn it last night. She looked better this morning, though. At least she had a little color.
“Tofu,” he read. “Room deodorizers. Mineral water. Herbal tea. Fresh fish. Sugar snap peas. Bean sprouts. Arugula. Plum tomatoes.” He looked at her over the top of the list. “I hate to break it to you, Princess, but tomatoes aren’t in season right now.”
He went back to reading. “Toast tongs?” Lifting his head, he looked at her warily.
“I couldn’t find any this morning when I made Sam’s breakfast. I burned my fingertips.”
Luke stared at her and shook his head, then skimmed the list again. “Flea collar?” Damn her. “For who?” he shouted.
“Who do you think? That beast is not staying in this house without one.”
Luke folded the list, jammed it into his shirt pocket and took a menacing step forward. “This is my house, in case you forgot. Jack stays. Where is Jack, by the way?”
“Outside, where he belongs. And this is only half your house,” she said between her teeth. “What did you do? Swindle Sam? Win your half in a poker game?”
“Something like that,” he lied, first because it was none of her business, and second because he enjoyed irritating her.
She got to her feet and thrust her chin up at him. “I think I know what you’re all about, Mr. Galloway. First off, you convinced Sam that he somehow needed you. Then you talked him into signing over half of everything he owned to you. And now, you’re trying to poison him with a high cholesterol diet, alcohol and cigars. What did he do, name you as his only heir in his will?”
Luke took two steps forward. “Why don’t you ask Sam? You’re not going to believe anything I say anyway.”
She didn’t answer. Slowly, she smoothed a hand over her hair, then clutched her cardigan sweater across her breasts. Luke’s gaze followed her moves.
“I don’t appreciate the way you look at me. It’s degrading.”
“Degrading?” he mocked. “Just how do I look at you?”
Her tongue darted out and moistened her lips. She moved around him and went to the kitchen sink. Picking up a dish towel, she polished the counters.
“I asked you a question. How do I look at you?”
Without turning to face him, she mumbled, “You look like you want to—”
He moved in close behind her and breathed against the back of her neck. “Want to what?”
Her shoulders lifted slightly and he felt a shudder pass through her, but she didn’t speak. So he finished the statement for her. “Like I want to haul you upstairs, strip you naked and mess up that hair of yours? Is that how I look at you?”
Her entire body tensed, and Luke chuckled to himself. She was so easy to unnerve. “Honey, you don’t have anything to worry about. I’d rather kiss an eel.” She ducked and darted under his arm in one quick move. Luke spun around to face her.
“Stay away from me,” she hissed, her arms wrapped securely around her middle. “Last night was a mistake. I was ill and you took advantage of me.”
Luke laughed in her face. “You really think you’re something, don’t you? When I invite a woman to my bed, I expect her to participate. I have a feeling you’re the type to lay there with a pinched face, like a virgin bride. Although I’ve never had any complaints from the women I’ve bedded.
Her face reddened and her eyes grew wide with horror. He laughed again. “Don’t worry, that wasn’t an invitation. Like I said before, you’re not my type.” With that, he grabbed his hat, slung open the back door, and stomped away from the house.
As he drove into town, he wondered what had made him say those things to Rusty. He’d been mean and cruel. What had made him behave like that? Did he enjoy taunting her simply because it was so easy to rile her? Or was it because she reminded him of Christine?
When Rusty checked on Sam, shortly after Luke left the house, she found him sitting up in bed entertaining himself with a deck of cards. The poor man, she thought. He was all alone.
“What are you playing?” she asked, moving toward the bed.
He scooped up the cards and shuffled them. “Just some solitaire. I’m getting a little restless in this bed.”
She touched his arm gently. “Of course, you are.” Lowering herself to the edge of the bed, she said, “We could play a card game together.”