Diamond Spur (8 page)

But letting go was hard. "Do you even realize what a change it will be, if you get what you think you want?" he said after a minute. "You'll be thrown into a world you've never experienced," he said.

"It isn't so different from mine," she defended.

He lifted his chin, staring down his straight nose at her. "You're a poor little girl from rural Texas, Kathryn," he said shortly. "You don't even know how to speak the language." "And I guess you do?" she challenged. He looked at her half angrily. "Of course I do," he said shortly. "I'm worth a small fortune.

I've been moving in monied circles for years."

Her face went blood red. She'd never considered the differences between herself and Jason as much in her life as she had in the past two days. She knew he was a rich man and she was a poor woman, but she'd never really noticed it before.

"You like to go barefooted and groom horses," he said on a slow breath. "The people you'll be associating with in New York will be city sophisticates. You won't understand the discussions they have, or know the people they talk about, or be knowledgeable about the customs they'll take for granted. You've got a Texas drawl that will stand out, and an innocence that some city man will do his best to relieve you of. If you aren't careful, you'll end up a broken flower, used up."

She glared up at him. "What a glowing character reference," she said, almost choking on her own pride. "I'm poor white trash, is that how you think of me after all these years?"

Her voice broke and she turned away furiously. But he was one step behind her. Without bothering to worry about consequences, he reached for her hungrily, locking her in his arms. He held fast, her tearstained cheek against his broad chest.

"I don't want you hurt," he said curtly. His mouth brushed her forehead, his lean hand smoothed her hair away from her face. "You'd be on your own in the city, with nobody to protect you, and you're so damned innocent, honey."

"And who's to blame for that?" she demanded, hitting at his broad chest.

He took a slow breath. "All right, if you want to put it that way, I guess some of the blame is mine," he admitted. He nuzzled her dark hair with his cheek. "I've tried to help Mary keep you out of trouble, and maybe I've gone overboard. It's just that it's hard to let go," he admitted finally, breathing in the scent of her.

She'd hoped for something more. And that was foolish because she knew better than most people how much Jason avoided involvement. He had almost a fear of it, and knowing his past, she couldn't really blame him. He couldn't trust anybody that far, not even Kate.

"You'll have to let go one day," she reminded him. "I guess so." He spoke absently into her soft hair. "But you're the closest thing to a friend I've got," he added, the words slow and gentle. "I'll miss having you around." "I won't be going away forever," she laughed, because he sounded so fatalistic. "Just for an occasional week." "That's what you think now," he said quietly. "That isn't how it will be. Business tends to overshadow everything else, after a while. I've given everything in me to the Diamond Spur in

recent years. It's become my life. Be careful that designing doesn't obsess you the same way." "It won't," she said. She drew back enough that she could smile up into his concerned face. "And if you'd relax a little now and again, maybe you wouldn't have those gray hairs." "I can't relax," he returned. "The cattle industry has been in a slump for the past few years.

Until market prices edge up, the Spur is hanging by a thread."

"You could delegate once in a while."

"Maybe I could, if Gene would hold up bis end of the work," he returned. He studied her

quietly. "You never seemed so ambitious, Kate. You used to talk endlessly about getting married." "Well, I've changed my mind now," she said, holding back the fact that she'd changed her mind because she knew she'd never change his about marriage.

He sighed, watching her. With her hair loose around her shoulders and that silky blouse she was wearing, she looked seductive. When she moved her breasts danced with erotic subtlety, and he was sure that she wasn't wearing anything to support them. That made it even worse, thinking about what her full young breasts looked like under their sensuous covering. He even felt vaguely guilty to be considering Kate in that light, when she'd been off limits for years.

"It's strange to argue like this with you," she said finally, smiling faintly. "We've been friends for a long time now. We get along better than any two people I know. And yet in the past two days, all we've done is disagree. It's...it's uncomfortable."

"This is the first time you've really gone against me," he replied.

"I've never wanted anything this badly before," she replied. And it was true, she'd never fought him. How odd to suddenly wake up and find that she'd allowed herself to be dominated by him for years. Her eyes searched his dark face. "You won't change my mind, Jason. I'm going to do what pleases me, even if it doesn't please you."

His eyes narrowed, but he didn't speak. It was frankly arousing to argue with her. His body made a sudden and emphatic statement about what it wanted, and he moved restlessly, trying to convince it that she wasn't fair game.

"I'll drive you home," he said abruptly.

"I have the car," she reminded him reluctantly. His nearness was already working on her, and she wanted the delight of being alone with him, even if it was just for a few minutes on the way home. Remembering the way he'd looked at her and touched her the day before still made her burn with untried longings.

"That's just as well," he said after a minute. He lifted the cigarette again to his chiseled lips. "I'm in a strange mood tonight."

"I don't understand."

His chin lifted and he scowled at her. "Don't you? Are you going to pretend that nothing happened yesterday?" he challenged, driven by mingled desire and frustration to lash out at her.

She remembered, but she didn't want to. Jason aroused her, excited her, and she was uncertain of his motives. He'd always been possessive of her, but lately he was taking it to new heights. She felt that if she let him, he'd smother her.

"Nothing did happen, really," she faltered.

He moved closer, his whole posture threatening. She could smell his cologne and the scent of leather that clung to his soft Western shirt. Her breath stifled in her throat. "And nothing's different between us?" he persisted. She could hardly breathe at all. His fingers were on her hair, lightly touching it. "No," she whispered.

"Then it shouldn't bother you if I have women."

She bit her lower lip until her teeth almost broke the skin. The image of that was unbearable. "No," she agreed. "It shouldn't."

He flicked the cigarette off the porch while the silence

closed in around them. He tilted her chin up and searched her eyes in the dim light from the

windows.

Her mouth, faintly pink and just a little tremulous, looked delicious. He wondered idly if anyone had even kissed her properly. God, he wanted to do that! Kate watched, shocked, as his dark head suddenly bent toward her. She could feel his warm, smoky breath on her parted lips and her own bream came jerkily.

"Don't pull away from me," he whispered deeply as his head tilted, his fingers touching her cheek. His nose nuzzled against hers and his mouth brushed the corner of hers, then drew lightly over the full softness of her parted lips. "I won't hurt you," he breathed against her mouth just as his covered it.

The sensation was explosive. His mouth was hard and warm and faintly hungry. He teased her lips until she went weak in the knees and her heart began to slam at her rib cage. Her eyes, half open, a little frightened, searched his curiously when he drew back to look at her.

"You taste of coffee," he said deeply. She'd never heard that pitch in his voice before, that sensual note. It was exciting and new. "You...you taste of cigarette smoke," she whispered back, trying to smile. But she didn't know how to play sophisticated games, and she was out of her depth with him.

He seemed to know that. His lean hands came up to frame her face and he bent again. "Open your mouth this time," he breathed as his lips nudged hers apart. "Deep kisses are an acquired taste, but I think I can make you want mine."

She moaned at the way he said it, at the velvet of his deep voice, at the aching hunger his caressing lips aroused in her body. She let him push her lips apart with his, admitting the slow, tender penetration of his tongue. She felt his tongue touching hers, fencing with it, and her body began to tremble.

One of Jason's hands went behind her head, to support it. The other traced her cheek, her soft throat while he deepened the kiss. His mouth was expert. Warm and hard and knowing, and she could hear his rough breathing mingled with hers in the silence of the porch. Instinctively she tried to move closer to him, wanting his strength to support her sudden weakness.

His mouth lifted a second later, pressing roughly against the side of her neck. He slid his arms around her and enveloped her against him, but when she pressed even closer and felt the sudden changed contours of his body, he gently eased his hips back to prevent the contact.

She wanted to ask him if it embarrassed him to have her know he was aroused, but she was too shy to put it into words. She'd heard girls at school talk about men getting this way. She knew what caused it, and her head swam to think that, at her age, she could have that effect on Jason.

He was having his own effect on her as well. She couldn't seem to stop trembling, and his arms tightened, shifting her soft breasts against his hard chest. She could feel the muscle right through the soft material of her blouse. He had to know that she wasn't wearing a bra by now, and that made her nervous. She tugged gently against his hard arms, but he wouldn't let go.

"Don't fight me," he murmured at her ear as his head lifted. "I won't take advantage of it."

"Of...what?" she faltered, trying to save her pride.

"Of the fact that you're bare under that blouse, Kate," he said. He lifted his head and looked

down at her with an odd kind of patient indulgence, but there was a glitter in his dark eyes that

made her heart skip beats. "That I can feel how soft you are, lying on my chest."

Her face went blood red. She dropped her eyes to the

steady rise and fall of his chest. She felt inadequate. Years too young.

"There's nothing to be afraid of," he murmured. He scowled, gently tracing her mouth with a lean forefinger, feeling its instant shy response. "I told you I was in a strange mood. I should have sent you on home before this happened."

"Are you sorry that it did?" she asked shyly, and her eyes were wide and soft and still hungry when they met his.

"Are you hell-bent on becoming famous?" he countered.

"I just want to see how far I can go," she told him. "No, I don't want to be famous. I just want to use my talent." "New York is a long way from Texas." "So you keep telling me. Jason, I won't change." "You will," he said quietly: He studied her young face quietly. "But I'm not going to have you

seduced by some Ivy Leaguer with a line a mile long. I don't want you treated like an appetizer." "You're very possessive lately," she said, but it flattered her that he cared, that he didn't want anything to happen to her.

"Of course I'm possessive. I owe you my life a time or two." He sighed roughly. "I don't want a man to...hurt you," he said finally, and his dark eyes were troubled. "Inevitably, if you move in those circles, you're going to meet some experienced men, and you won't know how to handle them. You could get drunk one time too many in the wrong company, or you could be flattered too much by a man's attentions. And the first time, if a man isn't damned gentle...." He stopped, frowning as he searched for the right words. "I don't want you used."

She smiled, because she knew what he was trying to say. It delighted her that he had trouble saying it when most men were permissive and worldly and blunt. He wasn't a virgin, she was sure, but he wasn't all that experienced, either. She dropped her eyes to his chest. "I promise I won't jump into bed with the first man who asks me, Jason." She stared at his chest.' 'Anyway, I don't like it when men touch me. Except that I've always wondered what it would be like...if you did." He felt the ground go out from under him. Until the past two days he'd never thought of Kate as a woman, and now he couldn't think of her any other way. Her mouth was sweet and responsive and he wanted it again. He wanted to put his hands under that silky blouse and touch her bare breasts, to see if they were really as soft as they felt lying against his chest. He wanted to drag her hips back against his and make her feel the strength of the arousal he hadn't wanted her to know about. "Don't make jokes," he said tersely. Her face felt warm, but it wasn't the time for subterfuge. 'I'm not," she said honestly. "If I ever... well, if I wanted anyone, I mean..." She was as bad as he was about this, she thought, almost laughing at her own inefficiency. "I can't imagine being that intimate with someone I've only just met," she murmured. "It would have to be someone I knew very well."

"Like me?" he prompted quietly.

Her body tingled. She couldn't quite meet his eyes. "Yes."

"If I'd let you," he said after a minute, trying to lessen some of the tension that was building