High-Stakes Passion (12 page)

What was she thinking? She had to calm down and remember this morning's resolve. One night was a special memory. Anything more and her hard won self-respect would be chipped away a little each day. He'd tire of her, or find out who she was. She couldn't go there. She moved to start setting the table.

Desire radiated from him as he stalked her across the kitchen. His eyes held a determined glint and his hands flexed at his sides.

She held her hands in front of her in a feeble attempt to ward him off. They met his hard chest, and she could feel his heart beating double-time. He captured her hands and kept them pressed to his chest while he lowered his mouth to hers.

No! She turned her head at the last moment. She'd never let him go if she started kissing him now. “Don't you want to eat?”

“Yeah, I'm starving.” He gave her a wicked grin.

His grin immobilized her. She still wasn't used to seeing him smile. She leaned her forehead against his chest. Even his sweat smelled sexy.

He raised his hand to her cheek and lifted her face. “Embarrassed? After last night?” Enfolding her in his powerful arms, he kissed her tenderly. “I know Pete frightened you, but I would never hurt you,” he mumbled against her lips.

“Mark.”

The next kiss was deeper, possessive. “I've wanted you all day, darlin'.”

She pushed against his chest and he loosened his hold. “I don't think this is a good idea.”

He stiffened and dropped his arms. “What are you talking about? What's the matter?”

She mustered up her courage and looked him in the eye. That muscle in his jaw was working overtime. She sighed heavily. “Sit down, okay? I need you to listen.”

“I don't need to sit down. I am listening.”

The sound of the hands' boots stomping on the back porch promptly ended any discussion. Dinnertime. Audrey was relieved, but Mark cursed under his breath as she rushed to put plates and silverware on the table.

Mark crossed his arms in front of his chest. “This isn't over.”

 

After dinner, Mark decided he'd had enough. Audrey acted as if he had mad cow disease. Had Pete scared her that much? She had to know
he'd
never force her.

Mark stalked into the kitchen and grabbed a towel. The sooner the dishes were done, the sooner they could…talk.

But while he was drying the last pot, she slipped past him and out of the kitchen. He followed her and caught her halfway up the stairs. He grabbed her hand and stopped her on the stairs. “Not so fast. You want to explain what you meant earlier?”

“No, not particularly. Devon's waiting for me to tuck him in.” She tugged at her hand, but he hauled her to him and held her close.

“I already did. He's fast asleep.” He liked her standing a step above him. He didn't have to lean down to capture her mouth. Closing his eyes, he breathed in her lemony scent. “Talk to me, Audrey. Tell me why you don't want this.” His lips lingered on hers.

She pushed away from him. “Please, Mark. I can't think when you're this close.”

“Good. Don't think.” He tightened his arms and brushed his lips over the sexy little spot below her ear.

“Mark, I can't do this.”

“Why not?”

“I'm leaving in two days. Let's just forget it.”

“Forget, hell!” He took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself.

He was determined to persuade her. After sleeping in her arms last night, his bed would seem lonely without her. He'd meant what he'd said that morning. Peace had filled his soul, and he hadn't slept so deeply since—well, never. He knew he'd rushed things the first time, but he'd made sure she had her pleasure. So what was the problem?

Leaning down, he spoke softly in her ear. “Are you gonna forget how it feels when I'm inside you? How I made you shiver and beg for more? 'Cause I sure as hell can't forget the way your nipples tighten when I kiss you, and the feel of your hands all over me. Just be with me tonight, honey, and quit thinkin' things to death.” He licked her lobe and spread gentle kisses down her jaw to her throat, persuading with his lips and tongue.

Audrey lost her breath and her resolve with his sensuous murmurings. His hands pushed her hips into his, and his mouth captured hers. His tongue swept in and out, raising little chill bumps on her arms and behind her neck. She succumbed to Mark's overpowering persuasion. Instead of pushing him away, she whimpered and ran her hands down his chest and around his waist.

He groaned and covered her breast with his palm.

That action brought her back to reality. Somehow, she summoned the strength to tear her mouth away. If she could just resist for one more day, Danny would be home from the hospital.

“No, I can't do this.” Pushing away, she headed up the stairs. “Good night, Mark.”

He caught up to her on the landing and grabbed her wrist. “What kind of game are you playin'?”

Audrey twisted from his grasp. “This was all a mistake. I'm not who you think I am.” She clamped her hands over her mouth.

Tense silence hung in the air. Amazingly, Mark looked more bewildered than suspicious. “What do you mean?”

How could she tell him the truth after last night? What would he think of her? She chickened out, looked at the floor. “Never mind.”

“What do you mean, never mind? What the hell are you sayin'?”

She panicked. Her mind scrambled for something to tell him that would scare him off, make him drop it. A half-truth. “Mark, I just can't have an affair. I would want more. I want a home of my own and kids and everything. And you don't want that.” Then, piteously hopeful, she added, “Do you?”

Mark looked appalled. “Kids? Hell, no!”

Audrey flinched at his outburst. Had she even dared to hope he would want something permanent with her? He could have the most beautiful women in Texas at his fingertips, probably already had. The humiliation was unbearable, the rejection excruciating. This time he didn't prevent her from retreating to her bedroom…alone.

A
udrey leaned against a leafy oak and quietly observed Mark and Devon in the corral. The famous cowboy coached the small boy with calm words and infinite patience. Along with her special night, she folded this precious memory and stored it in her heart to pull out in the years to come.

His large hand gently stroked the pony's nose, and she remembered how it felt sliding over her skin, cupping her breast. She shivered.

Devon laughed and brought her mind back to the present. The little boy held the reins tightly, as Mark taught him how to control the pony with verbal commands.

“Whoa, Little Star,” Devon called to the black pony he'd been allowed to name.

“Ready for cookies and lemonade?” Audrey called from the yard. Not that she expected Mark to come in. After last
night, things could only be awkward between them. He'd probably avoid her now. She'd known he didn't love her, but that cruel reality didn't stop her heart from breaking.

She hurried back into the house, though she knew they'd be another fifteen minutes or more. Mark would make sure Devon helped rub down and feed Little Star. “A cowboy always takes care of his horse.” Devon had solemnly quoted Mark's words to her with a grown-up expression on his small face.

She removed the jug of lemonade from the refrigerator and took some cups from the cabinet. Pulling the tray from the oven, she transferred cookies to a ceramic platter. She heard Mark on the back porch, quietly instructing Devon to wipe his boots. Her stomach did a somersault. Would he join them?

“Aunt Audey, did you see me riding?” Devon shouted as he clambered onto a kitchen chair.

Mark stayed by the door, taking in the beautiful sight of Audrey in a green-checkered apron, pouring glasses of lemonade.

Homemade oatmeal cookies. They smelled good. Seeing the little boy reach for a cookie reminded him of when he and Keith were kids and their Mom would lock them outside. Helen would ask them in and feed them cookies and chocolate milk. He could still picture the terrified look on Keith's face when their mom yelled at them from across the yard to get their butts home.

His stomach ached, but he didn't think eating would help. God, he'd missed Audrey last night. Couldn't sleep for thinking about what she'd said. He'd pictured her with a big, rounded stomach, or nursing a baby. Pictured himself holding a little blond-haired girl who called him “Daddy.” For the first time in his life, he'd actually allowed himself to consider the possibility.

But then he'd remembered him and Keith hiding from their mother's wrath, and the belt she used when she caught them. That stopped him cold. No way would he bring a kid into this world. No woman was that trustworthy. Audrey was pretty good with her nephew, but he was temporary. How would she handle a permanent responsibility? More importantly, how would he?

You can't have that, Malone. You can't risk it.
A sharp pain sliced through his midsection.

He took off his hat, hung it on a wall peg and wiped his forehead on his sleeve. Then he stepped up to the table and grabbed a cookie from the platter. What was he doing? He should turn around and get the hell out of there.
It's over. You knew that last night. Quit torturing yourself like this.

But his legs wouldn't move. And he couldn't take his eyes off her.

When Audrey looked at him, he mumbled, “Oatmeal's my favorite.”

Her eyes burned into his from across the table. “I know.” She dropped her gaze and smoothed her apron over her hips. “Helen told me.”

He stood, mesmerized, yearning for her touch, craving a dream. Remembering.

Devon pulled the platter close to him to grab another cookie. It tipped over the edge and crashed to the floor.

“Oh, Devon! No!” Audrey reached for the little boy.

Before she could get to him, Mark scooped him up and held him away from her. “Don't you dare touch him!” he yelled, rage pumping through his veins. “It was just an accident!”

A tense silence hung over the room like a ghostly presence spreading cold and gloom.

Mark blinked as the haze cleared from his eyes. Oh, God. What had he done?

Devon was shaking, his eyes wide and trained on him.

Audrey's brows were crinkled, her eyes filled with bewilderment…and pity. Finally, she said quietly, “I only wanted to get him away from the glass so he wouldn't cut himself.”

Mark choked and dragged in a ragged breath, trying to control the trembling that had taken over his body. He set the boy down and turned his back on her, cursing as his mind reeled. He'd made a damn fool of himself. She'd never look at him without pity again.

She was soothing the boy and sending him to the den to watch television. A moment later, she touched Mark's arm.

“Mark, I hope you know I would never, ever, hurt a child.”

“Yeah.” He couldn't say any more or she'd hear his voice shaking. And he refused to turn around and look at her. Without a backward glance, he slammed out the back door.

 

Mark didn't return that evening. With a certainty beyond her understanding, Audrey knew she must find him, and she knew exactly what she would say.

After dinner, Audrey sought out Ruth in the bunkhouse. Jim was just coming in. “Can either of you tell me where I might find Mark?”

Ruth shrugged. “Well, there's only two bars—er…” She looked at Jim.

Jim stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and shrugged. “Try the Texas Rose first.”

“Will you two watch Devon this evening? I—I need to talk to him.”

“Sure.” Jim's mischievous grin returned. “I'll teach him to play Go Fish!”

Audrey looked back at Ruth. “Where's Dalt?”

Ruth shrugged. “We were both ready for greener pastures.”

Before she left, Audrey settled Devon at the card table in the dining room with Ruth and Jim and then headed out for Helen and John's place. At the last minute, she came back and grabbed Mark's Stetson off the peg in the kitchen.

He wasn't with John and Helen, so she got back in her hatchback and drove into Quitman. It was a small enough town. Hopefully, he hadn't gone into Tyler.

He wasn't at the Texas Rose, either. She found his truck parked in front of Sam's. The place was empty except for a couple of grungy-looking older men in the back. The stench of cigarettes and booze hung thickly in the air, and a television blared from one corner of the ceiling.

She stepped farther in and saw Mark leaning against the bar, hands clenched around a tumbler of golden liquid. A dark lock of hair curled down his forehead. He stared into his glass as if contemplating drowning in it.

Audrey closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then focused her gaze. As she walked toward him, time slowed, her surroundings blurred, her heartbeat thrummed in her ears.

“You forgot your hat.” She set his black Stetson on the bar in front of her.

He turned on her, teeth bared like a rabid dog. “Get that out of here.”

Audrey forced a swallow past the lump in her throat. She straightened her back and squared her shoulders. “Why?”

Mark shoved the full tumbler across the counter, splashing the alcohol. “I haven't taken a drink, if that's what
you're worried about. Save your preaching for someone else.”

How long had he been staring at that glass? He must have wanted to drink so badly. But he hadn't. Her eyes stung with tears but she blinked them away. “If you're not drinking anyway, come home with me. I mean…come back to the Double M.”

His eyes flared wide and then squinted in menace. “Get the hell out of here before I do something we'll both regret. You better run on back to Dallas, little Miss Innocent.”

Audrey smiled and shook her head. “You would never hurt me, or any woman.”

His menacing snarl faded into a miserable frown. “What makes you so sure?”

Drawing a deep breath for courage, Audrey said, “Come with me, and I'll tell you.”

Agonizing minutes went by while he stared at her. He dropped his gaze and then closed his eyes. “Go away, Audrey.” He didn't move or open his eyes. “Please.” He spoke the last word on a deep sigh.

“I'm not leaving without you. If you come with me, I'll tell you a secret about me.”

His head jerked up and he narrowed his eyes at her. “What? You got a ticket for jaywalking? You voted for Ross Perot?”

She heaved a sigh, pulled up a stool and sat down. “You rescued a young girl once. Do you remember?”

Mark's gaze traveled down her body and back to her eyes. “What?”

Audrey stared at the scarred wooden counter, that long-ago night as vivid as this moment. “You'd just won your first championship. You came into Lone Star's stall. There was a fat girl, cornered by some drunken bullies.”

Mark went still. “That was you,” he whispered.

She looked into his eyes. “Yes.”

“Damn.” He lurched away and left the bar, his face creased in bewildered pain.

Tears stung her eyes as she jumped off the stool and followed. She'd hoped to make him see that he wasn't the only one with a painful past. Had she said the wrong thing…again? She pushed out the door.

It was still light, but the sun was almost down and the building cast dark shadows. She could barely see him as he strode down the gravel parking lot. She caught his arm. “Where are you going?”

He yanked away. “Go back to the ranch, Audrey. Don't waste your time. I'm not worth it.” He turned and headed for the field behind the bar.

She might not have had the red hair of her father and younger sister, but she had just as much Tyson stubbornness. Setting her jaw, she ran back for his hat and then set out after him.

Even at a brisk pace, it took her a few minutes to catch up to his long stride. When she did, he rounded on her, grabbed her upper arms and shook her.

“I don't need your pity,” he said through gritted teeth.

Audrey set her hands at her waist. “Pity? I just told you about the most embarrassing moment in my life, and you walked away. I was trying to tell you how much I admire you. To remind you of all the wonderful—”

Mark cursed, dropped his hands and stalked off across the field.

It was getting dark. Audrey raced after him, grabbed him around the waist from behind and held on tight. “Don't leave.”

His chest expanded and Audrey almost lost her grip.
Then he gave a heavy sigh and turned in her arms. He reached behind himself, grabbed the hat from her fingers and flung it across the grassy meadow. As he looked back at her, he grasped her shoulders and gently pushed her away. “It wasn't me that saved you that night.”

Shock coursed through her body. “What are you talking about?”

“That was the
Lone Cowboy.
I'd just come off the high of riding that bull and winning that buckle. I could do anything, be anything when I was rodeoing. But that's not who I really am. I tried. I put that hat back on and tried to be him again these last couple of weeks, but I was bound to mess up eventually.”

Audrey raised her eyes to the stars sparkling in the night sky, and knew she must take the ultimate risk. She stepped close and put her hands on his chest. “Mark, I don't love the
Lone Cowboy.
I love you.”

He gripped her wrists and yanked them away. “You don't know me. I'm no hero.”

Audrey framed his face and rose on tiptoe to gently kiss his stubbled cheek, wanting to soothe the anguish she saw blazing in his eyes. “Tell me, then, why I shouldn't love you.”

She could feel his jaw clench beneath her palms, and his temples were damp with sweat under her fingertips.

“You're one stubborn woman!” He pulled away and turned his back to her.

She stepped in front of him, but he turned his head and squeezed his eyes shut. “You don't understand. You don't know.”

She swallowed. “Then help me understand.”

Mark drew in a shuddering breath, his whole body trembling.

Audrey couldn't stand to see him like this. But she remained silent.

“I don't remember my father ever being drunk. So we never had any warning. He was stone-cold sober and, wham, out of the blue, he'd let Mom have it. And then she'd take it out on us. But I had my revenge.

“I was ten when I'd finally had enough. I knew Mom had boyfriends, 'cause she used to take me with her to use as her alibi. Then, I told Dad about Mom's little secret—that he wasn't Keith's real father.” Mark stopped and wiped his sleeve across his eyes. He made a choking sound and his hand shook as he rubbed the back of it across his mouth.

“He beat her so bad she was in the hospital for weeks. He went to prison, and I never saw him again.”

Oh, Mark.
Audrey closed the distance between them and placed her hand on his back. “Mark, you were just a kid. You were too young to understand the consequences.”

Audrey gathered him into her arms, but he remained stiff.

“Some hero, huh? You still think you love me?”

Though she couldn't stop the tears that ran down her cheeks, she looked into his eyes with a calm certainty. “Yes, Mark. I love you.”

“No.” He shook his head.

“I love the man who would never raise his hand to a woman, even when he's got a raging hangover and she pours his beer down the sink.

“I love the man who throws a poker game so a scared virgin won't have to have sex because of a bet.”

“How did—”

“I love the man who used his jet to help his housekeeper's sister.”

He crushed her to him and kissed the top of her head.

“I love the tender man who bought a little boy a pony and taught him to ride.”

Mark groaned as he fell to one knee and pushed her down to the soft bed of grass, ravishing her mouth with a harsh kiss. He couldn't get her shirt off fast enough.

Audrey let him undress her. He needed someone right now. Someone to hold him tight and love him, no matter what.