Lacy Page 15

  It was Blake Wardell who found her, half-conscious, bleeding, moaning in pain. She knew almost certainly that she'd lost the baby. He called an ambulance and went with her to the hospital, holding her hand while she cried her heart out.

  When she came to, he was sitting by the bed, holding her hand again.

  "You had a miscarriage." he said quietly. "I'm sorry."

  Tears ran down her cheeks. "I know," she sobbed.

  "You poor kid! Where's Danny? I'll call him," he offered.

  "No! He.. .made me fall," she said tersely. "He hit me."

  Her eyes closed, and Blake groaned. "He didn't know about the kid? You hadn't told him?"

  She let the tears flow. "It wasn't his," she whispered. "It was Turk's baby."

  His face hardened. "Turk who?"

  "Turk Sheridan. He was my brother's foreman—is my brother's foreman, back home,' she said, faltering. "I loved him, but he was still mourning his late wife and he didn't want me."

  "Still carrying a torch for him?" he asked quietly.

  "I told you he didn't want me." She cried all the harder.

  With a long sigh, he gathered her up close and held her, his dark face against her hair. "Don't cry, Katy," he said softly. "I'll take care of you. I want you. I'll always want you."

  Her arms clung to him. He was warm and strong and protec­tive. He was everything Danny wasn't. Except that he wasn't Turk.

  "Danny's always throwing us together," she said when the tears began to slow. She wiped at them carelessly. "You watch him, Blake," she added, lifting her red-rimmed eyes. "He's a bad man."

  "I know that." He touched her mouth. "I can take care of myself. You, too, if you'll leave him."

  She wanted to. But she was afraid of what Danny might do. She shivered and touched her bruised face. "I can't."

  "Listen," he said angrily. "I won't let him hurt you. Danny's a small-time operator. I'm not. I've got leverage and I can use it. Give me the right and I'll send him back to Italy in a syrup can!"

  If she hadn't cared about him, she might have agreed. But Danny was devious—and his behavior grew wilder every day. She was afraid of what he might do, not only to Wardell but to her family back in Texas. He had contacts everywhere.

  "No," she said after a minute. "No. I don't want you hurt."

  His face changed. Half his age seemed to drop away and he looked at her with wonder. "You.. .don't want me hurt?"he echoed blankly.

  His expression touched her. She smiled wanly and lifted her hand to his broad face. "You look shocked."

  "I am. Nobody ever gave a damn about me before," he said shortly. "My mother walked the streets for a living. I don't even know who my father was. I grew up rough and hard and in trouble with the law. I've never had anything that I didn't have to take."

  She felt a stark compassion for him. He wasn't altogether bad. She'd seen him go out of his way to help people down on their luck, and he was here now when she had nobody else to look after her.

  Impulsively she drew his face down to hers and put her soft mouth over his hard one.

  He stiffened, and she started to draw away, but his big hand slid behind her head and his mouth opened on hers.

  He was at least as experienced as Turk, if not more, she thought dizzily. She liked the way he teased her mouth with his lips and teeth before he penetrated it deeply with his tongue and made her gasp with the sudden heat of desire.

  He heard the soft sound and lifted his head. Dark, knowing eyes narrowed as they met hers. "You feel guilty. Don't. You can't help it any more than I can."

  She swallowed, her eyes troubled.

  "I know," he said quietly. "You love your foreman. It's his memory you think you're being disloyal to—not your husband's— isn't it?"

  She nodded helplessly.

  He smoothed back her damp, disheveled hair. "Well, for what it's worth, I feel a little guilty myself. You're married. I haven't got many scruples, but cutting a shine with a married woman is something I've never done before."

  His dry tone lifted her mood. "I won't tell if you won't tell," she whispered, with a rare glimpse of her old spirit.

  He caught his breath at the difference in her, at the sparkle of her green eyes, the radiance in her face. He had a fleeting look at what she'd have been like in love, and he cursed her brother's stupid foreman for throwing her love away. He realized suddenly that he'd have given anything for it.

  "I wish it had been me instead of Danny," he said shortly. "Or, especially, me instead of the man back home." He drew back reluctantly. "But I guess you'd have been worse off with me. I'm a gambler. I make my living on the weakness of other men. Besides that," he added, turning his face away, "I'm sterile. I had mumps late in life. I can't ever make a woman pregnant."

  Tears stung her eyes at the way he said it, as if it devastated him. She touched his hand and curled hers into it. "I'm sorry."

  He looked down at her. "If Danny hits you again, I'll kill him," he said matter-of-factly.

  She flushed. "Blake..."

  "You won't talk me out of it. How would you like to go to the theater when they let you out of here? We'll find something to cheer you up."

  She smiled up at him gratefully. "I'd like that."

  His eyes narrowed. Finally he smiled back. His gaze went down her body and back up. "I'm sorry about the kid."

  "So am I," she replied. "But it's for the best, I guess. He wouldn't have wanted it..." She broke down helplessly.

  He bent and kissed the fresh tears away. "Stop that," he whispered at her lips. He nibbled them tenderly and then caught the soft lower one in his teeth. "Go to bed with me, Katy."

  She caught her breath. Her eyes widened.

  "Don't panic. I don't mean now." He kissed her again. "I've never had it with a woman I've cared about,"he said, with blurred hunger, "a woman I could respect. I think I love you, baby."

  She stared at him. "Do you, really?"

  He nodded. He moved close to her mouth again and brushed it tenderly with his. "I'm big," he said. "A lot bigger than Danny."

  She blushed at the blatant statement. It was something even Danny had never talked about, much less Turk.

  He smiled at her color. "Best you know it before you decide. I've had prostitutes run from me."

  Her heart stopped in her chest. She searched his eyes. "But you wouldn't hurt me," she said then, certain of it. "I don't like it with Danny. I never did."

  His eyes narrowed. "And the foreman?"

  She averted her face. "I—I loved him," she stammered.

  He sighed. "Well, I can't be somebody else in bed. But I'll be good to you, Katy." He drew her head to his lips. "It might not be too bad with a man who loves you more than his own life."

  Her eyes closed. He wasn't Turk. But he was certainly the next best thing. "Blake..."

  "You weren't raised to commit adultery, I know. But think about it. I want you so desperately," he said huskily. "God, Katy. I want you more than I want to live!"

  She clung to him. He wasn't half as bad as he seemed to think he was. There was good in him. If it hadn't been for Danny's violence, she might have gone to Blake. But it was a risk she couldn't take. She was well and truly trapped. The only thing she didn't understand was why Danny kept pushing her at Wardell.

  Chapter Ten

  Ben went to see Faye early the next morning. Fortunately her father had gone to town, and she was alone at the house.

  She stiffened when she found him on the doorstep, her blond hair disheveled, around her face in a mass of curls, an old toweling robe wrapped loosely around the cotton gown that hung loosely over her too-thin body.

  "So it's you," she said petulantly, "Come to tell me about your fancy lady in San Antonio, have you?"

  "You aren't pregnant," Ben said shortly, glaring at her. "Why did you tell that lie?"

  "It wasn't a lie," she said evasively. "I could have been." She looked up, her full lower lip trembling. "You know I could have been! You were the first one, the on
ly one!"

  Ben felt uncomfortable. She looked small and helpless, and her big eyes were brimming over with tears. "Look here, Faye,"he said, without anger. "You don't understand how it is. I don't want to spend the rest of my life knee-deep in cattle. I want more than that.

  Jessica can give it to me. She's wealthy and socially secure. It's more a business arrangement than a marriage."

  "What will she get out of it?" Faye demanded.

  He smiled insolently. "You know what she'll get out of it."

  Faye went scarlet and looked away.

  That shamed him. She loved him. She'd given herself trustingly, and he'd made light of the gift. "I'm sorry," he said, taking her gently by the shoulders. "Really, I am." He frowned, remembering. He'd taken a long time with Jessica, because she was experienced and demanding. But the times he'd been with Faye, he was tipsy and in a hurry. "Faye, you didn't enjoy it, did you?" he asked suddenly.

  She averted her face. He turned it up to his, and something in him flinched at her expression. She looked.. .anguished.

  "Are you pregnant?" he asked very gently.

  The tears spilled over. "No!" she choked. "I wanted to be. I prayed to be. But you don't love me, do you... ? So it would have been awful for you. Oh, Ben, I'm sorry!" she whispered brokenly. She covered her face with her hands and she was trembling terribly. "I'm sorry! I loved you so much, I thought you just had to care a little about me, but you don't. You never did. I was just easy and I gave in like a woman of the streets!"

  He pulled her close, groaning. She was so damned fragile. Why did she have to be like this, so sweet and vulnerable? He couldn't afford to involve himself with her again, not when he was engaged! He was sitting on top of the world, and all he had to do was sacrifice little Faye to have everything he'd ever wanted.

  "I love you so," she sobbed into his shirtfront.

  He drew in an anguished breath, his hand absently smoothing her hair. "Don't cry," he whispered. He closed his eyes. "Faye, my mother's dying," he blurted out.

  She drew away a little, wiping at her tears. "Your mother? Oh, Ben, no!"

  "Her heart." He moved her hair back from her face, his eyes sad, his face contorted by sorrow. "I didn't know. I'm going to lose her, and what will I do then? My brother and sister and I have never been close, but Mother and I always were—perhaps because I'm the youngest. She's going to die!"

  "She's a good woman," Faye said gently. Her hand reached up to his face, her eyes filled with compassion. "She'll make the sweetest angel, Ben..."

  Her voice broke. He clasped her close, shivering with grief. She held him, soothed him, whispered soft nothings that comforted him. Little Faye, with her big, generous heart.

  "It's all right, Ben," she whispered. She rubbed her cheek gently against his. "You'll get through it. Doctors can make mistakes, you know. She might have years left!"

  She made him feel whole again, as if he could conquer the world. He took a deep, slow breath and lifted his head, not at all embarrassed to let her see the traces of tears on his thick lashes. Faye had been a part of his life since they were children. He was her first man. He felt protective about her, safe when he was with her. But he'd taken her for granted. Even now, he had no right to be with her. It wasn't honorable.

  "You're sweet," he said softly. He smiled and bent to touch her mouth with his. But at the instant of contact, he knew his mistake.

  It was like fire against dry wood. Despite Jessica's skill and variety of techniques, Faye aroused him until he was mindless—just by touching him.

  He groaned, reached to pull her hips against his.

  She gasped at the quickness of his need for her, at the hot pressure of him against her belly.

  "Faye!" he whispered, shivering.

  He ground her mouth open under his and guided her backward to the long, worn sofa. Oblivious to where they were, who they were, even to the fact that her father could come back any minute, he lowered her down. His hands slid gently over her, feeling her small breasts go taut in his hands, her body shiver responsively.

  Seconds later, he divested her of robe and gown and looked down at her body. He'd never really seen it until now. The times he'd made love to her, he'd been less than sober and it had been dark. But now he looked at her, and she was white-skinned and exquisite, even with her thinness. Her nipples were mauve and hard, rising as if they begged for his mouth, blushing with the same color that touched her cheeks.

  "Pretty little thing,"he whispered. He lowered his mouth to her breasts and began to suckle them. She cried out her ecstasy. It was all he needed to send him right over the edge. He pleasured her with his mouth and his hands in the way he'd first pleasured Jessica, except that Faye was inexperienced and totally abandoned in her reception to his caresses. She made him feel like the most male man who'd ever lived, moaning and trembling and sobbing as he kindled the flames in her body. She'd never been aroused to this point before, probably because he'd been too selfish to care. But now he did. He lifted his head long enough to look at her, and pride blazed in his eyes as he saw the blatant need in her face, the helpless writhing of her body, the trembling of her long legs.

  He couldn't wait long enough to undress. He unfastened his trousers, lowered himself over her body with a minimum of movement.

  "Easy,"he whispered when she tried to pull him down. He hesi­tated, poised so that he was just barely touching her.

  She cried out again, a sound he'd never heard echoed from a woman's throat.

  It aroused him feverishly, but still he kept control. "Lie still "he said huskily. He rested his forearms beside her head and watched her face while he moved slowly down. She shuddered at the first taste of penetration. He held there, smiling hungrily. "More?" he whispered.

  "P—please!"

  He moved again, his eyes glittering. "This much?" he asked, feeling her body tremble violently. "Or this much?" And he pushed down, hard.

  She felt him fill her all at once and she convulsed. It was vaguely terrifying, the hot, black oblivion of fulfillment. She'd never known it until now, and she was afraid of it. She tried to struggle, but she couldn't even see. Her body throbbed with each strangled cry as ecstasy threw her rhythmically against his hips.

  Ben watched her, awed by her face, her body. Odd that Jessica had never looked like that. Of course, Jessica had been with other men. Faye hadn't. Faye hadn't had anyone except him...

  The thought worked its way down his backbone until it expanded, throbbed, and suddenly burst into splinters of the most delicious pleasure he'd ever experienced.

  His face blazed red with it, his body arched, and he gasped as it rolled over him, shuddering, exploding like rainbows of fire.

  Faye came back to consciousness just as she felt him burst, her eyes wide and fascinated as she watched him above her. She'd never seen him like this, either. She looked down and she saw him as she hadn't dreamed of seeing him. Seconds later, he pulled back, and she couldn't drag her eyes from him.

  "Ben!" she gasped. "Ben, my gosh!"

  He collapsed beside her, his body shivering in the aftermath, his heartbeat audible, his breathing strained.

  His eyes were closed—then he groaned as he realized what he'd done. Damn his hormones, and damn Faye's beauty!

  She looked down at him, her heart in her eyes. "You.. .didn't have to.. .do that," she said, faltering as his eyes opened. "You.. .I mean, you didn't have to make it—make it good for me, too."

  "No, I didn't," he said flatly.

  "Then, why?"

  He looked at her breasts, relaxed now, pretty and soft, and he felt himself going hard again. He couldn't believe it. He couldn't!

  He lifted her over him, fitting her to his body with abrupt ease, holding her there. "Again,"he said huskily. "I'll give you that again."

  "But, you're.. .engaged, Ben," she whimpered.

  "She can't give me this,"he ground out. "Oh, god, Faye. Nobody can give me this but you!"

  He held back just long enough to satisfy
her before he gave himself to her one last time and felt the sun explode in his veins.

  It was the most incredible ecstasy. Why couldn't he feel it with the woman he was pledged to marry?

  Later, he rearranged his clothing while Faye slowly pulled on her things. He didn't look at her. He was too ashamed.

  She went to the door, opening it. She didn't lift her eyes. "Good-bye, Ben," she whispered, her voice wobbly. "Thank you," she added hesitantly, "for showing me how it could have been. It was so beautiful."

  Her control broke on the last word, but she bit her lip, hanging on tight to her pride.

  Ben paused at the door. He'd never felt quite so low. Faye had comforted him, and he'd given her nothing except the risk of a child. He felt suddenly shocked at the thought of Faye carrying his baby. Shocked and uncertain.

  "I'm sorry, Faye," he said inadequately.

  She shook her head. "I wanted to. It's all right, I won't tell anyone. I shouldn't have let Papa go to see Coleman. He won't know about this, I promise."

  He tilted her face up to his haunted eyes. "If I gave you a baby, I want to know."

  Her heart stopped. "I couldn't do that, Ben," she said. "You'll be married. It wouldn't be right."

  "What in God's name will you do?"

  "I'll get rid of it," she whispered, strangling on the words. "It will be all right."

  "Get rid of it?" he burst out, enraged.

  The sudden sound of a car in the distance alerted him to the possibility of her father's arrival home. He groaned inwardly at his stupidity. He was getting worse by the day. He looked at Faye and tried to find words. Surely she wouldn't risk killing herself in one of those filthy clinics!

  "I probably won't, anyway," Faye said, with savaged pride. "I didn't before."

  He hadn't been that thorough before, he wanted to add. But she was right. Perhaps fate would be kind once more. Anyway, he had to think of his future. Jessica could give him everything he wanted.

  "Good-bye, Faye," he said stiffly.

  She looked up, her eyes adoring him sadly. "Do you love her?" He shifted. "She's very well-to-do." I see.

  The two words enraged him. "At least she's got more pride than to give her body to an engaged man!"