The younger man felt as if he’d been hit by a two-ton weight. His heart ran wild. Justin’s words echoed in his mind. He couldn’t even feel desire for the ravishing blonde Abby had seen him with in Houston. He hadn’t felt it with anyone since that night he’d brought Abby home from the bar and seen her naked to the waist. Was that what he had to look forward to? Would he end up like Justin, imprisoned in desire for the one woman he couldn’t have, alone for the rest of his life because he was incapable of wanting another woman?
“I didn’t realize,” Calhoun said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
Justin shrugged. “One of those things,” he said philosophically. He sat down behind his desk. “You may not believe in marriage, but you may find that a relationship can tie you up properly without a ring or a legal paper. And I’ll throw your own question right back at you,” he added, cocking his head at his brother. “How many women have you had since you noticed Abby?”
Calhoun’s face grew hard and remote. He glared at Justin, then turned and left the room.
Justin lifted an eyebrow and chuckled softly to himself as he bent over his figures again.
* * *
Abby had a nice supper with Tyler, and the moussaka she sampled was delicious, like the elegant baklava they had for dessert and the faintly resinous wine they drank with their meal. But while she was listening to Ty talk about his new job, she was thinking about the empty future, about living without Calhoun. She’d gotten used to listening for his step in the hall late at night as he went to his room, to seeing him across the table, to watching television with him, to being near him at work. Life was so empty now, so cold. She felt as if she’d never know warmth again.
“The only bad part of it is that I’m going to get loaned out,” Tyler was telling her resignedly as he drank a demitasse of Greek coffee after dessert. “Old man Regan has a daughter in Arizona who’s coping with a dude ranch and two of her nephews for the summer. I’m going to be sent out there to get the place in shape, I gather, while my assistant looks after things here.” He grimaced. “I hate dude ranches. And I don’t much care for the woman trying to run this one. Apparently she thought she could and talked Regan into it, but she seems to be losing her shirt.”
Abby glanced at him. “What’s she like, do you know?”
“I don’t have a clue. She’s probably one of those feminists who think men should have the children and women should earn the living. I’ll be damned if she’ll tell me how to do my job.”
Abby could see the fireworks already, and she smiled behind her cup at the mental image. Tyler was so much like Justin and Calhoun, a reactionary, a holdover from the old West. It would be fascinating to see how he coped with a modern woman.
He took her home minutes later, bending to kiss her cheek at the door of Mrs. Simpson’s house. “Thanks for keeping me company,” he grinned. “I enjoyed it.”
“So did I.” She smiled up at him. “You’re a nice man. Someday you’ll make some lucky girl a nice husband.”
“Marriage is for—”
“The birds,” she finished for him, sighing. “You and Calhoun ought to do an act together. You’ve got the chorus down pat.”
“No man wants to get married,” he told her. “Men get corralled.”
“Oh, sure they do,” she agreed. “By greedy, grasping, mercenary women.”
“I’d marry you in a minute, Abby,” he said. He was smiling, but he didn’t sound as if he were joking. “So if Calhoun slips the noose, you just throw it my way. I won’t even duck.”
“You doll.” She reached up and kissed his firm jaw. “I’ll remember that. Good night, Ty.”
“Good night. I’ll give you a call next week, okay?”
“Okay.”
She waved at him and then used her key and went inside. She climbed the stairs lazily, relaxed from the resinated wine and worn out from her long week of avoiding Calhoun. So it was a surprise to find the telephone ringing in her room, where she had her own private extension.
She put down her purse and sat on the bed to answer it. “Hello?”
A deep, familiar voice that made her pulse leap said, “Hello.”
“Calhoun?” she asked softly.
“I can’t sit up and wait for you anymore,” he said. “So I thought I’d make sure you got home all right.”
“I did.”
“Where did you go?”
She lay back on the bed, her head on the pillow. “To the new Greek place.”
“Ummm,” he murmured, sounding as if he were stretched out on his own bed. “I’ve been there for business dinners a time or two. Did you try the moussaka? It’s delicious.”
“Yes, that’s what I had, and some of that resinated wine. It’s very strong.”
He paused. “Did you come straight home?”
She almost smiled at his concern. “Yes, I came straight home. He didn’t even try to seduce me.”
“I don’t remember accusing him of it.”
She touched the receiver gently. “Is everything all right at the house?”
“I guess so.” There was a pause. “It’s lonely.”
“It’s lonely here, too,” she said.
Another pause. “I didn’t mean what you thought I did,” he said quietly. “I wouldn’t take you to bed on a bet. You aren’t the kind of woman to be used and thrown aside. I’m ashamed of you for thinking I could treat you like that after all these years.”
Her heart ran away. She clutched the receiver closer to her ear. “But you said—”
“I said we could go to the apartment and be alone,” he interrupted. “And that we could make love. I meant we could make a few memories and then I’d take you home.” He sighed. “I’d probably do it bent double, but I never had any intention of taking advantage of the situation.”
“Oh.”
“So now that we’ve cleared that up, how about dinner tomorrow night?” he asked.
She hesitated. “Calhoun, wouldn’t it be better if we just didn’t see each other again?” she asked quietly, even though it broke her heart to say the words.
“I’ve looked out for you, watched over you and ordered your life for years,” he replied. “Now you’re grown, and things have happened between us that I never expected. We can’t go back to the relationship we had, and we can’t be intimate. But there has to be a way that we can keep each other,” he said heavily. “Because I can’t quite put you out of my life, Abby. I hate like hell going past your room at night and knowing you aren’t in it. I hate watching television alone and sitting at a table alone when Justin has business dinners. I hate the feedlot because there’s going to be another woman at your desk.”
“She’s blond,” she reminded him.
“She isn’t you,” he said shortly. “Are you going to come with me or not?”
“I shouldn’t….”
“But you will,” he returned.
She sighed, smiling. “Yes.”
“I’ll pick you up at five.”