Diana Palmer Texan Lovers: Calhoun / Justin / Tyler / Sutton's Way / Ethan / Connal

“Here,” he muttered, catching her arm. He pulled her into his office and closed the door behind them, frowning down at her. He didn’t let go even then. His fingers were warm and firm through her soft sleeve, and their touch made her tingle.

“You know I can’t stay in the house anymore,” she whispered. “You know why.”

“Are you that afraid of me?” he asked quietly.

She shifted restlessly, letting her eyes slide down to his firm jaw. “I’m afraid of what could happen.”

“I see.”

It was embarrassing to talk to him about it, but he had to know how vulnerable she was. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t guessed. She studied his patterned red tie carelessly.

“I suppose I sound conceited,” she added. “But…but if you—” Her eyes closed. “I’m vulnerable,” she whispered. Her lower lip trembled, and she bit it. “Oh, Calhoun, I’m so vulnerable—”

“Don’t you think I know?” he said under his breath, and the eyes that met hers were dark with emotion. “Why do you think I left?”

She couldn’t look at him anymore. She felt naked. “Well, I’m saving you from any more complications,” she said tightly. “I won’t be around.”

He couldn’t seem to breathe. His cigarette had burned out, and it hung in his hand, as dead as he felt. “Is that what you want?”

She straightened. “Tyler’s taking me to dinner tonight,” she said out of the blue, just to let him see that she wasn’t going to try to hang on to him or act lovesick. “He’s got a job, too, by the way. He’s going to manage old man Regan’s ranch for him. In no time at all he’ll be settled and able to take on more responsibilities.”

Calhoun’s heart felt like lead in his chest. Was she saying what he thought she was? Was she implying that she might marry Tyler?

“You don’t love him,” he said harshly.

She looked up. “I don’t need to,” she replied quietly. “Love isn’t anything. It’s just an emotion that blinds people to reality.”

“Abby!” he burst out. “You can’t believe that?”

“Look who’s talking.” She glared at him. “You’re the one who said it was for the birds, aren’t you? You’ve never let your emotions get in the way of a good time!”

He took a slow, steadying breath, and his dark eyes searched hers in the static silence that followed. “Maybe that was true a few years ago,” he admitted, his voice deep and slow and measured. “I’ve never had any trouble attracting women, and I had a sizable appetite back then. But I learned that sex by itself has very little flavor, and it didn’t take long to realize that most of those women were trading their bodies for what I could give them.” He laughed bitterly. “How would that appeal to you, tidbit? Being traded a few kisses and a night in bed for a car or a coat or some expensive jewelry, so that you never could be sure that it was you or your wallet they really wanted?”

She’d never heard him talk like this. He never had, at least not to her. She searched his face, finding cynicism and faint mockery in his smile, in his hard eyes.

“You’re very attractive,” she replied. “Surely you know that.”

His big shoulders rose and fell. “Plenty of men are,” he said without conceit. “But I’m rich with it. My money has appeal.”

“Only to a certain type of woman,” she reminded him. “One who doesn’t want ties or emotional liabilities. One with mercenary tendencies who could walk away from you if you lost everything, or if you were sick or old.” She smiled gently. “I suppose you liked that, too. You could be independent and still enjoy yourself.”

He frowned a little, watching her. “I haven’t had a woman since the night you went to the strip show,” he said quietly.

She didn’t want to hear about his love life. She turned her head. “You had dates….”

“Well, my God, I can date women without seducing them!”

“It’s none of my business.” She started to reach for the door-knob, but his big, warm hand engulfed hers, sensuously caressing her fingers as he moved closer, drowning her in the clean cologne-rich scent of him.

“Make it your business,” he said tautly.

She looked up at him slowly, searchingly. But there was nothing readable in his face or his eyes or even the set of his head. It was like trying to learn from stone. “I don’t understand,” she said, her voice faltering.

“I don’t like bridles,” he said shortly. “I don’t like the thought of ropes around me, or a ring through my nose. I hate the thought of marriage.” He grimaced, but his eyes held hers. “But you’re in my blood,” he breathed. “And I don’t know what to do about it.”

“I won’t sleep with you,” she said with quiet pride. “And yes, I want to.” She laughed bitterly. “More than I want to breathe.”

“Yes. I knew that when I left.” He touched her hair, smoothing it, tracing its length down to her shoulder with a possessive touch that made her tremble. “I know all too well how you feel about me. I suspected it the night you went to that bar with Misty and you whispered that you wished you were blond….” His dark eyes lanced up to her shocked ones. “And the night of the square dance cinched it. I did a lot of thinking while I was away. I managed to put two and two together at last.”

She felt as if he’d cut the ground from under her feet. Stark naked. She’d thought her secret was safe, and now it wasn’t.

“You don’t need to deny it,” he added when he saw her expression. “There’s no reason to. I’m not going to make fun of you or try to embarrass you. But I told you the night I left how I felt. I’m twelve years older than you. I’m a rounder, and I haven’t ever tried abstinence. You’re even my ward. If I had any sense I’d let you go and wave you off, laughing. You’re a complication I don’t want or need.”

“Thanks,” she said shortly. Her face was flaming. It was embarrassing to have him see right through her, when she hadn’t realized how transparent she must be to an experienced man.

“That’s what my mind is telling me,” he added, laughing with faint mockery as he moved closer. “Now let me show you what my body says—”

She opened her mouth to protest, but his lips covered hers before she could speak. His kiss was warm and slow, and when his hands went to her hips and pulled them against his and he let her feel the blatant hunger of his body, she gave in.

“So soft,” he whispered as he brushed his lips over her mouth. “So sweet. I dream about kissing you. I dream about your body and the way you are with me when I make love to you. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted a woman in my life.”

“That’s…physical,” she protested.

“That’s all I can offer you,” he replied. His lips moved to her eyelids, closing them with kisses. “Now do you see, Abby? I’ve never loved anyone. I’ve never wanted that. All you can have of me is this.”

She swallowed. What a bitter, hopeless relationship that would be. She loved him with all her heart, and all he had to offer her was his body.

He tasted the tears before he saw them. His blond head lifted, and he winced at the sight of her drenched blue-gray eyes. “Oh, God, don’t,” he breathed, wiping the wetness away with his thumbs.

“Let me go, please,” she pleaded, pushing at his broad, hard chest.

“You want something I can’t give you.”

“I know that now,” she whispered. She bit on her lower lip to stop it from trembling, and stared at his tie. “I guess I was never cut out to be a mercenary blonde,” she said with an attempt at humor, feeling his body stiffen as she made the remark. She looked up then, with drenched eyes that couldn’t hide her hunger for his heart. “But I would have loved you so—”

“Abby,” he groaned. His mouth silenced her, ardently, roughly. He wrapped her up in his hard arms, kissing her with such force that her head bent back against his arms, and still he didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. He began to tremble faintly, the hunger a living thing in him, torturously sweet.

But Abby couldn’t bear the bitter mockery of a kiss that screamed of pity and desire. She twisted her mouth from under his and buried her face in his jacket, her hands gripping the fabric as she shook with frustrated need.

“I’m young,” she whispered after a minute. “I’ll get over you.”

“Will you?” His voice sounded odd. His big hands were in her hair, holding her head to him. They were just a little unsteady, and the chest under her forehead was shuddering with the force of his heartbeat.

“I’ll have to,” she said. She took a slow, soft breath. “It was enough that you and Justin have taken care of me all these years,” she murmured. “I can’t expect anything more from you. I shouldn’t have. It was…just proximity, and a huge crush, and…and curiosity, that’s all. I didn’t mean—”

“Stop it,” he said harshly. He pulled her closer, enfolding her in his big arms, holding her, rocking her. “My God, stop it. Am I laughing at you? Am I making fun of how you feel, or trying to shame you for it? I never should have said that to you at the feedlot that day about hating the way you looked at me. I didn’t mean it. I wanted you so badly all I could think about was getting you out of the car before I lost my head.” He laughed coldly. “And a hell of a lot of good it did. I lost it anyway, that morning in your room, and scared the hell out of you.”

“I didn’t understand what intimacy was until then,” she confessed quietly.