The Rogue (11 page)

His head moved down, his mouth tentative against her lips. Diana knew she could push him away, but she had pushed him away so many times in the past. She couldn’t bring herself to reject him again. When she failed to object to his kiss, it deepened possessively. Diana responded, hearing the pounding of his heart.

She could feel him trembling with virginal passion. His hands were hesitant in their caresses, avoiding the intimate area of her breasts that might bring an end to the embrace, but the adoring fervor of his kiss made up for his lack of experience.

Guy began raining eager, feather kisses over her face, whispering her name over and over again. Diana was overwhelmed by his gentleness and vulnerability. His touching plea for her to return his affection was so like the silent requests of the past. Always before, she had ignored them. This time she couldn’t.

“Yes, Guy, yes,” Diana whispered against a smooth cheek.

Her hands slid to his neck, fingers intertwining behind it to pull him down with her to the sandy soil. A moan of raw desire came from Guy’s throat, cut short by the driving kiss he ground onto her lips. The need to make up to Guy for the way she had treated him blocked all other considerations from her mind. Opening her legs to let his slide between, Diana guided and directed his movements, initiating him into the art of making love.

The experience was short-lived, ending when he shuddered with completion. His crushing weight remained on top of her for several more seconds before Guy rolled weakly off to lie beside her, an expression of satisfied exhaustion on his youthful face.

Neither spoke immediately: Guy, lost to the wonder of what had happened; and Diana, questioning the wisdom of her kindness. But the quiet happiness shining in his eyes when he turned to gaze at her seemed to be the only answer she needed for the time being.

He reached out to hold her hand, as if needing to touch her to be sure it was all real and not a dream. Shifting to prop an elbow beneath him, he gazed at her hand, carrying it almost reverently to his lips.

“Are you sorry?” Guy questioned, his look suddenly vulnerable as he lifted his gaze to her face.

No matter what doubts she might be experiencing, how could she say anything but, “No, I’m not sorry”? Diana touched his cheek with her fingertips in a caress meant to soothe and reassure. She felt so much older than Guy, almost maternal.

“I’m glad.” His voice trembled with emotion. “It
was more wonderful than I dreamed it would be.” Diana pressed her fingers to his lips in an effort to silence him, not wanting Guy to talk about something they both might regret, but he wasn’t so easily deterred. He merely kissed her fingers and held her hand away. “I always wanted you to be the first. The guys were always trying to get me to go with them when they . . .” A faint blush tinted his face as he left that sentence unfinished. “But I kept waiting, hoping. Somehow I just knew you would come back.”

“Oh, Guy,” she murmured, helpless to stop the outpouring from his soul.

“I love you, Diana,” he declared. “I’ve always loved you. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t.”

“Don’t say that,” Diana protested.

“Why not? It’s true. I love you. I know you’re older than me,” Guy admitted, as if he believed that was the reason for her protest. “But now we’re both grown up, and five years doesn’t mean anything.”

“Please.” She wanted to cry from frustration.

He frowned. “I know you care about me, or else—”

“I do care about you,” Diana assured him, trying to explain. “It’s just . . .” What could she say that wouldn’t hurt him?

His forehead cleared as he guessed: “You’re thinking about your divorce, aren’t you?”

She seized on his suggestion. “It’s too soon, Guy. I’m not ready to become seriously involved with anyone yet.”

“I understand, and I can wait until you’re ready to love me as much as I love you. All I want to do is take care of you. I’ll never hurt you, Diana, I swear,” he vowed.

“I know you wouldn’t, Guy.” When he moved to kiss her, Diana eluded him, gliding to her feet. “It’s late. We’d better be getting back,” she offered as an excuse for her rejection. “The Major will think we’ve gotten lost.”

Walking to her pile of clothes, she picked up her jeans, aware that Guy had risen to his feet. He came up
behind her, his hands settling on the curve of her shoulders.

“I wish we had gotten lost. I don’t want this afternoon to end.”

Diana wanted to turn into his arms, be held close and be comforted, to ease the crazy, empty ache she felt inside, but that would be taking unfair advantage of a love she didn’t return and doubted that she ever would. She lowered her head, her fingers digging into the denim material.

“But you’re right,” Guy sighed and let his hands fall away. “We have to go back.”

“Yes,” she agreed tightly and began to dress.

There was little said during the short ride back to the ranch yard, both keeping silent for their own reasons. The presence of others at the stable kept everything casual as they unsaddled their horses. Diana escaped to the ranch house without having to listen to more ardent declarations from Guy.

After sharing a quiet dinner with the Major, Diana sat alone in the long living room-dining room combination. Her father had gone to his room, intending to read for a while, then have an early night. She felt restless and fidgety, half-expecting Guy to come to the house that evening, and she tried to think of what she could say to him.

Footsteps sounded on the gravel path leading to the front porch. Diana hurried to the screen door, seeking to keep Guy outside, where his voice or their conversation couldn’t be accidentally overheard by the Major.

Through the wire mesh, Diana saw the tall figure emerging from the night’s darkness, the lean physique reminiscent of Guy’s. Only it wasn’t Guy. It was Holt, and she stiffened as he walked up the porch steps.

“The Major has gone to bed,” she informed him before he could speak. “You’ll have to wait until morning to talk to him.”

The light shining from inside the house didn’t reach his face, but there was a deadly threat in his voice
when he spoke. “I’m not here to see the Major. I came to see you.”

A little pulse hammered in her throat. “We’ll talk out here.” Diana opened the screen door and stepped onto the porch. “I don’t want the Major to be disturbed.”

“Fine,” Holt agreed.

Diana walked past him to the far end of the porch and leaned against the railing, aware that he followed, his gaze never leaving her. A gold moon was rising in the east, spotlighting the jagged peaks of the mountains. Night was beginning to lower the temperature, and the faint breeze was cool against her skin.

“What do you want?” Behind the bored impatience of her voice, Diana was wary.

“Stay away from my son.”

The coldly flat order sent a wave of crimson heat over her skin, but the betraying flood of embarrassment was hidden by the night’s shadows. She managed a falsely incredulous laugh.

“What a ridiculous thing to ask,” she declared, ignoring the fact that it hadn’t been a request. “Guy and I have known each other for years.”

“I had a feeling when you came back that it wouldn’t be long before you would be up to your old tricks, but it never occurred to me that your object would be my son.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Diana had started out on a course where there was no turning back. She had to try to brazen it out, taking the chance that Guy had not hinted how he felt about her and possibly that she returned the feeling.

But that hope was brutally dashed by Holt’s response. “I am referring to your seduction number this afternoon.” At her wide-eyed look of alarm, his hard mouth curved into a thin smile. “Yes, I happened to pass by the irrigation pond on my way back to the ranch. I saw you and Guy. I hope you aren’t going to try to convince me that you nearly drowned and he was pumping the life back into you.”

Diana was first hot with shame, then cold with rage. “What’s the matter? Are you jealous because I considered your son more of a man than you?”

“Hardly.” He was contemptuous of her suggestion. “When I want sex, I find a woman, not a selfish bitch with hot pants.”

“Then what’s your problem?” she taunted him, trying not to reel from his hurting insults. “Or are you just upset because I stole your son’s virginity? Are you playing the outraged parent?”

“I’m not concerned with his lost virginity. It would have happened sooner or later. I’m here to make sure the whoring brat that took it stays away from him in the future.”

Her brittle control snapped. Her arcing hand slapped his face with all the force at her command. That last time she had done that, Holt had retaliated in kind, and Diana was now prepared to elude his striking hand.

But the target of his lightning-quick hands wasn’t her face. She ducked futilely as he seized her shoulders and yanked her hard against his chest. The air left her lungs in a stunned breath. A constricting band of steel circled her waist while rough fingers twined around a handful of hair to jerk her head back.

Before Diana could utter a sound, her lips were being ground against her teeth by the driving force of his. The hard, punishing pressure was demeaning, ravaging her mouth the way a man would take his pleasure from a whore. There was a buzzing in her ears, humiliation racing through her veins. Only the rough hand at the back of her head kept her neck from snapping under the force of his kiss.

Her hands strained against his chest, but the effort to gain breathing space arched her hips more fully against him, molding her lower body to the hard, male contour of his. He was sapping her strength, her heart hammering like a mad thing while his beat steadily beneath her hands.

As swiftly as her lips had been seized, they were
released. His hands moved to her waist, holding her firmly, as if he expected her to bolt. She lifted her head to glare at him. Mirrored in his silver eyes was her own angrily resentful expression and nothing more. Diana pressed the back of her hand to her throbbing mouth, wanting to scrub away all memory of his derogatory kiss.

“What’s the matter?” His lip curled in a derisive smile. “Didn’t you like that? Didn’t you want me to kiss you?”

“No!” she hissed, disgust for him flashing in the violent blue of her eyes.

“Liar!” Any trace of amusement, contemptuous or otherwise, vanished from his face. His hand closed around her wrist, capable of snapping it at the slightest provocation. Holt jerked it so her hand was in front of her face. “If you hadn’t wanted it, you could have used your claws.”

Diana went hot with the memory of his instructions about warding off unwanted advances. She tried to twist free of his talon-hard grip and accidentally brushed her hip against him. The searing contact with the hard male shape of him ended her struggle.

Pressing close, Diana taunted him. “And you wanted me, didn’t you?”

Holt pushed her away, rejecting her suggestion as he physically rejected her person. “I’m warning you to stay away from Guy. I won’t have him mixed up with the likes of you.”

“That isn’t for you to decide,” she retorted, determined to defy him to her last breath.

“He’s not in your league. I am not going to let you amuse yourself with my son. Stay away from him.”

He pivoted on his heel and walked from the porch, disappearing into the night. Hatred welled in her throat, a bitter and vile thing. It choked Diana into silence, leaving the last word to him.

Shouting voices from outside filtered into her bedroom. Diana moaned and glanced at the clock on her dresser. It was barely six
A.M.
She rolled onto her side, trying to shut out the sounds of activity.

“Doesn’t anybody know it’s Sunday morning?” she grumbled.

It had been midnight by the time she and the Major had gotten home. Some friends of her father had given a party the night before to celebrate their twenty-fifth anniversary. Diana hadn’t wanted to go, had no desire to see whatever old friends who might attend, but the Major had been insistent. He had decided she was isolating herself and needed to get out. When he threatened to attend the party without her, Diana had given in, concerned that he would overdo it if she wasn’t there to keep an eye on him.

In the end, it had turned out to be a good thing. It provided her with an ironclad excuse to turn Guy down when he asked her to go into town with him. Not that she was obeying Holt’s order of three nights ago to stay away from him, because she wasn’t. She simply didn’t want to become emotionally involved with Guy, nor did she want to hurt him. It meant walking a fine line. So far she had succeeded, but Diana was aware her success was mostly due to the subtle intervention by Holt and the enormous workload
he had put on Guy to keep him busy from dawn until dusk, leaving Guy little free time to pursue Diana.

A sense of urgency seemed to be in the voices coming through her window, echoed by the slamming of the screen door. Finally, curiosity overcame Diana’s irritation. Throwing back the covers, she brushed the tousled black hair from her face and walked to the window.

All the activity seemed to be centered somewhere near the stables, beyond her view. Diana glimpsed the Major striding in that direction, the hurried air about him being that of a man reacting to an alarm.

Something was wrong. With a frown, Diana slipped into her cotton robe and slid her bare feet into a pair of sturdy slippers. She was buttoning the last button on her robe as she half-ran and half-walked out of the house.

There was movement everywhere about the stables, yet the commotion seemed to be revolving around the stud pens. Diana hurried in that direction, her nerves stretching thin as the apprehension mounted. Was one of the stallions sick? Had someone been hurt?

Between the solid planks of the corral, Diana saw the Major standing inside with Holt and two others. The gate stood open and she hurried through it.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” The questions were barely out when Diana saw the answer. The bay stallion lay on the ground, inert in death. “My God! Shetan!” She took an instinctive step toward the body.