Heaven, Texas (23 page)

“He hits a long ball, but he gets himself into a lot of trouble.”

“You've played all your life, haven't you?”

She walked over toward the windows and looked down on the strings of tiny white lights dangling over the Riverwalk from the cypress trees. “Yes. My father was a golfer.”

“I remember. I tried to get a job caddying at his country club when I was a kid, but they told me I had to cut my hair first.” He smiled. “I wasn't willing to give up my D.A., so I pumped gas instead.”

She had a mental image of him leaning against a locker and running a black plastic comb through his slicked-back hair. Hoyt had worn a crew cut.

He pulled his bow tie free and undid his collar button. “I made a seven-thirty tee time for the two of us tomorrow morning at my club. We can beat some of the heat.”

“I don't have my clubs or my shoes.”

“I'll take care of it.”

“Don't you have to work?”

“I'm my own boss, Suzy.”

“I—I really need to be back by noon.”

“Do you have another commitment?”

She didn't, and she realized she was being foolish. If she had to spend time with him, what better place than on a golf course? “I have some errands to run, but I can do them later. Golf will be fine.”

“Good.” He stood, slipped off his jacket, and tossed it down on the couch. “Would you like to see the terrace?”

“I'd enjoy that.” Anything to postpone what was to come.

To her alarm, he headed for the staircase. She had assumed the terrace was off this level of the duplex, but now she realized it must lie off the master bedroom upstairs. He had reached the bottom step before he sensed that she wasn't following him. He turned and regarded her evenly. “You don't have to take your clothes off to see the view.”

“Please don't be flippant about this.”

“Then stop looking at me as if I'm going to rape you. I'm not, you know.” Turning his back on her, he stalked up the stairs.

She followed slowly behind.

S
uzy approached the railing where Way was standing, with his hands in his pockets, looking out over the San Antonio skyline. Keeping a careful distance between them, she came up next to him.

“Everything dries out quickly up here,” he said, without looking at her. “Irrigation is a real challenge.”

She glanced around at the terra-cotta tubs that held ornamental trees and the planters that displayed colorful blooming annuals. A hibiscus bearing bright yellow flowers brushed the side of her skirt. She would rather talk about gardens than what loomed ahead.

“I have the same problem with some of my hanging baskets. They're under the eaves, so they don't get any rainwater.”

“Why don't you move them?”

“I love looking at them from my bedroom window.”

She immediately regretted mentioning the bedroom and looked away from him.

“For a mature woman, you're as skittish as a teenager.” His voice was soft and vaguely husky. She stiffened as he turned to her and cupped her upper arms in the palms of his hands. The warmth of his body penetrated the thin silk of her dress. He dipped his head.

Her lips parted in protest as his mouth covered her own. She stood rigidly and braced herself for some terrible assault, but his kiss was surprisingly gentle. He brushed his lips over hers—she had not expected them to feel so soft and warm. Her eyes drifted closed.

He shifted his weight and lightly pressed his hips to hers. She tensed as she felt his arousal. He slowly drew away from her, and, as she regarded him, she was unable to hide her confusion. Had she actually given in to him for a few seconds? Surely not. Surely it was revulsion she was feeling. Regardless of his power and his money, this was still Way Sawyer, the biggest hoodlum at Telarosa High.

He brushed a lock of hair back from her cheek. “You look like a kid who just got her first kiss.”

His comment flustered her nearly as much as his kiss. “I don't have much experience with this.”

“You were married for thirty years.”

“That's not what I meant. I meant— With anybody else.”

“You've never been with anybody but Hoyt, have you?”

“I guess I seem like a real country mouse to you, don't I?”

“He's been dead four years.”

She ducked her head and heard the night breeze carry her whispered words. “So have I.”

The silence stretched between them, and when he spoke, she heard something almost like uncertainty in his voice. “I think we need a little time to get to know each other better before this goes farther, don't you?”

Hope sprang inside her, and her eyes widened as she gazed up at him. “You're not going to— You won't press me?”

The mouth that had kissed her only moments before grew hard. “Do you want me to?”

Her hope faded, replaced by a terrible anger. “You're playing games with me again. How can you be so cruel?”

She spun away from him and rushed back through the terrace doors. He caught her by the shoulders on the landing, just outside the doors to the master bedroom, and she shrank back from the bleakness in his eyes.

“You don't know what cruelty is,” he said. “You were sheltered from the moment you were born.”

“That's not true!”

“Isn't it? Do you know what it's like to go to bed hungry? Do you know what it's like to watch your mother die a slow death of shame?”

She could not endure his baiting for another moment. Turning abruptly toward the bedroom doors, she twisted the knob in her hands. “Let's get this over with.”

As she entered the room, she heard him curse softly beneath his breath. Feeling like a condemned prisoner, she gazed around at the deep red lacquered walls. A massive mahogany bed, covered with dark paisley throw pillows, sat in a recessed cove behind her. Trembling, she turned to him.

“I don't want the lights on.”

Once again, he seemed hesitant. “Suzy—”

She cut him off. “I won't do it with the lights on.”

“Do you want to pretend I'm Hoyt?” he said angrily.

“I could never confuse you with Hoyt Denton.”

He spoke as coldly as she had. “I'm taking you downstairs. You can sleep in the guest room.”

“No!” Her hands balled into fists at her sides. “I'm not going to let you do this to me. You're not going to play any more mind games with me! Both of us know that I'm bought and paid for. But, then, I guess you understand exactly how that works. You must have learned it from your mother.” She spun away, turning toward the bathroom, and then winced as her words came back to her. Regardless of the circumstances, she should never have said such a hateful thing.

“Fill the tub while you're in there.”

She shivered at the deadly calm in his voice. “I don't want to do that.”

“I do.” He spoke with no emotion at all. “Leave the lights off if that's your preference, but fill the tub.”

With a hiss of dismay, she fled into the bathroom and shut the door. Leaning against it, she felt her heart thudding, and tears stung her eyes against the ugliness of the scene. She'd thought she could simply climb beneath the covers in his darkened bedroom, open her legs, and let him do what he had to, quickly and efficiently, while she lost herself in a blessed numbness. She didn't want to bathe with him or play sexual games. She wanted this first time done with, and she wanted to emerge as unaffected as possible.

She told herself his lovemaking would be mechanical, as cold and dispassionate as the man himself, but as she fumbled with the light switch, the image of a teenage boy with angry eyes and a hungry mouth darted into her mind. She shuddered and pushed it away.

As she undressed, she avoided her reflection in the mirrors that were set against the dark red-tiled walls. The room was opulent with its gold fixtures and black marble sunken tub, which was square in shape and spacious enough to accommodate two people. She stalled as long as she could, neatly folding her clothes, placing them on a paisley upholstered bench that sat near the tub. She set her shoes underneath, side by side like good little soldiers. After wrapping herself in a thick black towel, she ran the water in the huge tub. While it filled, she tried to calm herself by thinking about her garden and what she would plant in the fall, thinking about everything except Hoyt and the fact that she was about to commit adultery.

When the tub was full, she switched on the Jacuzzi, whipping the water into a froth of camouflaging bubbles, then she turned off the lights. There were no windows in the bathroom and it was blessedly dark, so she wouldn't have to watch his eyes exploring the body that only her husband had caressed. Why did he even want her? Her skin was no longer taut; her stomach hadn't been flat for years, and she wore an estrogen patch on her hip. Discarding the towel, she lowered herself into the bubbling water.

She didn't have long to wait before he knocked at the door. “Yes?” she inquired, polite as always, because she had been reared to be polite, because women her age had been brought up to obey the rules, defer to men, and put their own needs after everyone else's.

The door opened, admitting a dim wedge of illumination from the bedroom. He didn't turn on the light, but neither did he close the door, and despite her earlier words, she was grateful for the faint glow from the other room. Although she didn't want him to be able to see her clearly, she also dreaded being alone with him in dense darkness.

She studied the silhouette of his body as he approached the tub. If only he were unattractive, this wouldn't seem like such a betrayal. He was a powerful man, not as tall as Hoyt had been, but equally imposing in a different way. She couldn't make out either the fabric or color of the robe he wore, but as his hands went to his waist, she knew he was untying the sash, and she dropped her gaze. How many grown men had she seen naked? She'd known Hoyt's body nearly as well as her own, and as a child, she'd occasionally walked in on her father. When Bobby Tom stayed at the house, he sometimes roamed in his underwear, but that didn't count. She had very little experience to draw on.

The water level rose as he lowered himself into the tub and settled his body into the opposite corner from hers. The soft whir of the Jacuzzi masked the outside noises so that the two of them could have been alone together anyplace. He propped his elbows on the rim, and his legs brushed hers as he stretched out. She stiffened as she felt his hand clasp her ankle and draw her foot on top of his thigh.

“Relax, Suzy. You can get out of the tub anytime you want.”

If his words were meant to soothe her, they had the opposite effect because she knew there was no escape. If she didn't get this over with tonight, she would surely go crazy.

He made a slow circle in the arch of her foot with his thumb and her whole body jerked in response.

“Sensitive?” The anger that had crackled from him like static seemed to be gone. He drew a figure eight in her arch.

“My feet are ticklish.”

“Mmm.” Instead of letting her go, he began to massage her toes, rubbing them between his thumb and forefinger while he continued to caress her arch with his other hand. Despite herself, she began to relax. If only it could end here, with a warm bath and comforting massage.

A surprisingly peaceful silence fell over them, and the exquisite movements of his hands on her foot, combined with the fact that he showed no inclination to attack, began to lull her. She sank more deeply into the water.

“We should have brought a bottle of champagne in here.” He sounded as lazy as she felt. “This is nice.”

As he continued his sensuous game of this-little-piggy, she knew she had to apologize for the nasty remark she had made about his mother. She had never believed that other people's boorish behavior served as an excuse for abandoning her own moral code.

“What I said about your mother was cruel and uncalled for. I apologize.”

“You had provocation.”

“That's never an excuse.”

“You're a good woman, Suzy Denton,” he said softly.

A creeping languor turned her muscles to jelly. It had been so long since anyone had really touched her. All those years she'd been married, she'd taken the power of sensual caresses for granted, but she didn't anymore.

He reached for her other foot. The ends of her hair dipped into the water as she sank lower into the tub, but she was feeling too relaxed to prop herself back up. Once again he began his slow, deep kneading. She told herself it was merely because she was tired that the sensation felt so delicious.

He drew her foot to his lips and she felt the pleasant rasp of his teeth as he nipped gently on the pad of her big toe. “I assume I don't have to worry about getting you pregnant.”

His statement jarred her from her lethargy. She tried to sit up, but he kept his hold on her foot, returning it to the top of his thigh where he continued to minister to it.

“No, you don't.”

“You don't have to worry about me, either,” he said.

What was she supposed to worry about? she wondered. Certainly not getting him pregnant.

She heard the amusement in his voice. “Suzy, it's the nineties. You're supposed to ask your potential lovers pointed questions about their sex and drug habits.”

“Lord.”

“It's a new world.”

“Not a very nice one.”

He chuckled. “I take it I'm not going to get any pointed questions.”

“If you had anything to hide, you wouldn't have brought the subject up.”

“That's exactly right. Now turn around, and let me rub your shoulders.”

Without waiting for her to move, he tugged gently on her wrists and turned her so that she slid between his open legs. She felt the muscles of his chest against her back. His hips shifted, and she realized he was fully aroused. A thrill of awareness shot through her, immediately followed by a rush of guilt.

“Hand me that soap,” he whispered, his voice as gentle as a caress, as his thumbs worked the muscles in her shoulders. “It's on your right.”

“No, I—”

To her surprise, his teeth sank into the curve of her neck. He nipped her there, not painfully, but with enough strength to remind her that he was in control. She remembered that stallions frequently nipped the mares they were covering, sometimes even bringing blood. At the same time, a dim voice told her that she only needed to rise from the water for him to let her go. But the voice was too amorphous for her to hold on to as his hands glided over her shoulders and palmed her breasts.

“Lean back,” he whispered. “Let me play with you.”

He must have fetched the soap himself because his palms were slick with it and the sensations he aroused so exquisite her eyes stung with tears. She didn't want to betray Hoyt. She didn't want it to feel so good, but it had been too long, and as his warm, soapy hands circled her breasts, she couldn't resist. She would permit this intimate caress for a moment, and then she would draw away.

Round and round his hand traveled, coming closer and closer to the tender centers. Her breathing quickened. He brushed her nipples, then plucked them between his fingers and began massaging them as he had her toes. The sensation was delicious and familiar, like a favorite song heard again after a very long time. She had forgotten how wonderful this felt. Her body grew heavier, more languid, until it seemed to be melting into his.

He abandoned her nipples and returned to making lazy circles around her breasts, gently teasing until he once again reached the tips, then plucking and pulling. She squirmed against him. He circled again. This time she moaned when he reached her nipples and rolled them between his fingers.

Her breathing was coming heavier now, and her body felt swollen with arousal. Kissing her ear, he lifted her up onto his thighs, her back still against his chest. She felt his lips tugging on her lobe. He began to suck there, on the flesh and the diamond stud, and she shuddered at the unfamiliar sensation. She couldn't remember Hoyt ever doing that to her, but when she tried to recall if he had, her thoughts kept scattering.

He spread his legs and, in the process, wedged hers open with his knees. His hands slid down her breasts to her inner thighs. She didn't understand what he was doing as he rotated both of them, pulling her thighs wider, moving their hips closer to the edge of the tub. And then she felt the powerful jet of water gushing into her.

She gasped and nearly jumped off his lap, trying to get away from the surge of water shooting out of one of the nozzles set into the side of the tub.