Marry in Haste... (11 page)

He could imagine her wet, sleek with the creek water, raising her face to the last rays of the sun—“Mallory?”

She stopped at the door.

“Don't take too long or…” Or he might be tempted to join her. “Or your supper will get cold,” he said curtly.

“I'll keep that in mind.” She left the cabin and headed for the stream.

After Reed gathered kindling and positioned a few logs on the fire, he went to the creek to wash up before starting the rice and beans. He'd watched where Mallory had headed and chose a spot farther down. As he approached the bank, he could hear her humming and singing. Her voice was as sweet as a siren's song and if he chose to peer around the cedars, he could see her and she'd never know he was there. But
he'd
know.

If he ever saw her naked again, it would be with her consent.

She returned just as he stirred the rice and beans one last time and heated the corn muffins Rosita had sent along. Going into the cabin, she brought her bedroll out and opened it by the side of the fire, then settled on it. They ate as they watched the sun say a spectacular good-night. Every shade of pink streaked the horizon before it slipped away into darkness.

“Are you going to sleep inside the cabin or out here?” she asked.

“Out here.”

“Do you mind if I sleep out here, too?”

“You're free to do whatever you want, Mallory.”

“I wish,” she murmured under her breath.

“If you put your mind to it, you can enjoy yourself the next couple of days.” He knew she wasn't used to this kind of life and maybe bringing her here had been a mistake.

“
You
don't seem to be enjoying yourself all that much,” she retorted, and stood, gathering up their dishes. “I'll take care of these since you made supper.”

When she returned to the fire, she brought her sketch pad and pencil. Before long, she'd settled with her back against a rock, sketching.

As the air became damp with night dew, the distance between Reed and Mallory became more than ten feet. “I'm going to bank the fire and turn in,” he said gruffly.

When she looked up and gazed at him across the fire, he saw emotions in her eyes, but he wasn't sure what they were. With his need for her increasing with every star that appeared, he wasn't going to ask any questions. He stretched out on his bedroll, his head pillowed on top of his arms. By the time Mallory took her sketch pad into the cabin and returned, he'd convinced himself he could turn off his need for her. He didn't watch her get settled but could hear every sound as she unzipped the bedroll, slid inside, then quieted.

“Good night, Mallory,” he said.

“Good night.”

Cattle lowed in the distance, and one of the horses softly neighed. Cicadas clicked a rhythm totally their
own. The glow of the campfire hardly alleviated the inky-black night, and Reed could sense Mallory a few feet way. He didn't know how long he lay there, his eyes closed, willing himself to sleep, but he heard the call of a coyote then the rustle of Mallory's sleeping bag when she sat up. He looked over at her, but she was staring into the distance away from him.

“Mallory?”

She didn't answer, and she didn't turn around. That wasn't like her.

“What's wrong?”

But she still didn't respond, and he came to his feet, then crouched beside her. When he did, he could see she was shivering. The temperature had only dropped into the upper sixties but apparently she was cold.

“Do you want to go into the cabin?”

She shook her head.

“Mallory, look at me.”

When she kept her head tucked down, he lifted her chin and saw tears on her cheeks. She would have turned away from him and maybe run off, but he held her shoulders.

“Tell me what's wrong,” he encouraged gently.

After a few minutes her words came out in a rush. “I don't want to need you. I don't want to depend on you.” Her shoulders shook, and he suspected the past two weeks had finally caught up to her. But when he went to put his arm around her shoulder, she shied away. “And most of all,” she concluded, “I don't want you to feel you have to take care of me like some lost calf. That's not what I want from a man. That's not—”

“What
do
you want from a man?” His voice was
husky, because they were the only two people in the world right now and he wanted her.

When she seemed at a loss for an answer, he asked more directly, “What do you want from
me?
”

U
nder the slip of the moon, wide expansive black sky and twinkling white stars, Reed saw his answer in Mallory's eyes. With the embers of the fire glowing nearby, he knelt down beside her, and she rose up on her knees to meet him.

“Kiss me, Reed,” she said breathlessly.

Resisting her was as out of the question as leaving her here to fend for herself. His arms encircled her and he brought her to him. His lips first tasted the salt of her tears on her cheeks but then found her mouth. He took it, demanding and possessing. She laced her fingers in his hair, and he groaned as he took her down onto the bedroll, covering her with his body. But she didn't seem to mind as his legs parted hers and their jeans created a friction hotter than nakedness.

Rolling onto his side, he took her with him. His tongue stole her breath and made it his. Kissing wasn't nearly enough as their legs intertwined and her thigh brushed where he wanted to be touched most. The need that rushed through him caused him to wonder if he'd ever known desire before. Certainly never this raging desire that could only be satisfied by Mallory. Her alluring curves were too tempting to resist, and his hands slid under the edge of her top. Her skin
was so soft as he pressed their lower bodies together harder, imagining the feel of her skin against his. His thumb teased her nipple through her bra, and she moaned. Every sound she made raised the height of his arousal…the intensity of the passion he'd first felt at the Golden Spur.

Quickly he reached around her and unfastened her bra. As his hand cupped her breast and she arched against it, he knew it wouldn't take much to catapult him over the edge. But she was a virgin.

A virgin.

He had to be sure that what they were about to do was the right thing for both of them. Breaking the kiss, he stroked her cheek. “Mallory, if we…” he hesitated only a moment “…have sex, we won't be able to get an annulment.”

The word annulment took the stars from her eyes and the blush from her cheeks. “No,” she said softly, “I guess we won't.” She started to roll away from him. “I'm sorry, Reed. I—”

Taking a deep breath himself, he finally said, “There's nothing to be sorry about.” Then he thought about why he'd come to her in the first place. “Are you scared out here?”

Her silence was telling.

Smoothing her bedroll out under him, he held out his arm to her. “Come here.”

She looked unsure.

“Come on,” he prompted. “We're going to count the stars and fall asleep.”

“Are you sure? I mean…”

“Neither of us got very much sleep last night. I bet before you get to one hundred you'll be snoring.”

“I don't snore,” she responded indignantly.

He laughed. “Okay, you'll be sleeping silently like the lady you are.” It felt good to be teasing her again.

Smiling at him now, she moved closer. When her hip grazed his, she awkwardly moved away again, but he pulled her to his shoulder and said, “Relax.” He was still aroused but there was a peacefulness in holding her that created a satisfaction he'd never quite known before. When she finally relaxed against him, he turned his face toward her and inhaled the scent of her hair. Then he looked straight up at the sky and started counting. Soon he felt the slower rhythm of her breathing and knew she'd fallen asleep. With her tucked against him, he closed his eyes and fell into a welcome slumber.

 

It was midafternoon on Saturday when Mallory and Reed rode past the largest corral on the Double Crown. Although a tingling tension had remained between them since their night under the stars, they'd also formed a bond, and she had to acknowledge to herself that she was falling in love with Reed Fortune.

The past two nights they'd lain side by side, rather than together, counting stars…and talking—about anything and everything. He'd described the opal mines where he'd worked one summer while he was in college. The stars always reminded him of opals, he'd said. She'd understood exactly what he'd meant and confided in him how as a child, she'd go into her mother's room, open her jewelry box and just appreciate the beauty of everything inside—the colors, the stones catching the light. She'd told him about her first client when she'd signed on for her apprentice
ship and how nervous she'd felt. He'd admitted that when he was a child, being one of six children sometimes made him feel lost in a crowd, but he wouldn't have had it any other way.

It had been so easy discussing horses and family and anything else that had come into their heads. Anything, that is, but how they felt about being together…about each other.

Mallory knew she was headed for heartache. This was an impossible situation. Reed had been engaged to another woman a little over two weeks ago. She'd walked away and he'd been left with his feelings. Love didn't diminish or end simply because you wanted it to. Besides, he was going back to Australia at the end of the summer. She was courting disaster to let her feelings get any more entwined around him. But she couldn't seem to help herself. There was something about this man that she admired and respected…and needed. That's what bothered her most.

She'd almost hated to return to the Double Crown. While Reed had tended cattle and mended fences, she'd ridden out with him and sat under a tree, sketching. She'd done lots of charcoal sketches of him and the horses and scenery, but mostly of Reed. Returning to the ranch today brought back the reasons why they'd left—the threat of Winston and maybe Clint Lockhart. She'd be moving out of the cabin tomorrow and going to live with Dawson. Part of her resisted that move, too.

As she looked toward the barn, she saw Hank standing outside the stall doors with someone. A man in a suit. Suddenly she realized who it was. Reining
in her horse, she jumped off and ran toward Dawson. He gathered her in a huge bear hug.

A few moments later, leaning back, she studied him. At thirty-two, Dawson looked every bit the conservative businessman, from the cut of his light brown hair to the fine quality of his suit. He was well-built and almost as broad-shouldered as Reed. There was affection in his hazel-green eyes.

“What are you doing here? I didn't think you'd be back until tomorrow,” she said, glad he'd returned early, yet also realizing that meant she'd be leaving Reed.

“I managed to tie everything up a day early.”

Hank moved away to give them some privacy as Reed brought their horses to the barn. “Hi, mate,” he greeted Dawson.

But Dawson just scowled at him. “I don't know whether to congratulate you or make you explain everything that happened in Reno.”

“Her fiancé tried to kidnap her and I stopped him,” Reed said succinctly.

“You had to marry her to do that?”

“Is that what she told you?” Reed asked.

“Don't talk about me as if I'm not here,” Mallory protested. “I told Dawson—” She looked at Reed. “I didn't want to go into the Golden Spur and the champagne in a fax or over the phone—”

“So, why
did
the two of you get married?” her brother asked, looking from one to the other.

“I'd had too much champagne and Reed, well…” She threw up her hands embarrassed by the entire scenario. “Look, Dawson, it doesn't matter. The point
is—now you're back so we can file for an annulment or whatever we have to do.”

“But you've been living together. You mean to tell me that you haven't…”

Her cheeks were burning and she was glad she didn't have to explain this to anyone else. “No, we haven't. We only stayed married because of Winston. But if I can just move in with you until I can afford a place of my own, Reed can get back to his life and I can start mine.”

Dawson shook his head. “That's the problem. You can't stay with me.”

She'd never thought Dawson would turn her away. They didn't know each other very well, but there had always been this connection between them. Her face must have shown her disappointment.

“Not because I don't want you there, Mallory,” Dawson explained. “I wasn't sure when we talked, but yesterday I finalized my schedule for the next few weeks. I have to go out of town again. During the next month I'll be gone more than I'm home. That's no protection for you. I suppose you could get a restraining order against Bentley….”

“That won't protect her against him. We'll have to keep pretending we have a real marriage,” Reed concluded.

Dawson eyed them both. “Mallory, are you agreeable to that? I'm flying out again Monday morning and other than taking you with me, I don't have another solution.”

The idea that he'd actually take her with him warmed her heart. “I could stay at your apartment and keep the door locked until you return.”

“As if you'd do that,” Reed muttered with a hard look at her.

“You'd prefer being locked in my apartment to staying with Reed?” Dawson asked.

“No, of course not, but I'm sure Reed's tired of my being around.”

“I never said that.” He had a stubborn set to his chin.

If she stayed, she'd fall deeper in love with him. Both men were waiting for her to make a decision. “All right, I'll stay with Reed.”

“Good,” Dawson concluded. “Then I'll know you'll be safe. Ryan told me about Clint Lockhart and the security system he had installed at the cabin. It's state of the art.”

“No word on Lockhart yet?” Reed asked.

Dawson shook his head. “Are you tired from your camping, or do you want to see some of the sights?” he asked Mallory. “Like I said, I'm free till Monday morning.”

“I'd love to see some of the missions and the Alamo.”

“That's easily done. Reed, are you going to join us?” Dawson asked.

“No, I have to become familiar with the security system and check on some mares I've been following.”

“You can meet us in town for dinner.” Dawson extended the invitation, obviously meaning it.

But Reed shook his head. “I know Mallory would like to spend some time with you. Go ahead and take it. I have plenty to keep me occupied.”

“Are you coming back to the cabin now?” Mallory
asked Reed. The bond that had formed while they were gone seemed to be breaking now that they were back. She could feel distance again, yet she knew that was probably for the best.

“Not right now, but I'll be there when you get home tonight.”

“I'll make sure I deliver her safe and sound to you,” Dawson said with a grin.

Mallory sighed. One man protecting her was bad enough, now she had two.

 

Although Reed had kept busy all day, as the time neared midnight he paced the living room. He knew Mallory was safe with Dawson. Still….

At the sound of Dawson's car, he breathed a sigh of relief. He heard her call goodbye and then she opened the door. She stopped when she saw him standing there. “I thought you might have gone to bed.”

“I didn't want to turn on the security system until after you came in.”

“Oh,” she said softly. She was wearing white shorts and a red top and sneakers, and she'd never looked more attractive.

“Did you get reacquainted?”

Her gaze passed over his bare chest, then his sleeping shorts, and he could feel the heat from it.

Stepping away from him, she laid her purse on the table. “Yes, we did. We talked in a way we never had a chance to before.”

“About anything in particular?”

She didn't say anything immediately, then answered, “About our parents. I never realized how
deeply Dawson was affected by our father leaving his mother to marry my mother. He felt betrayed for himself and his mother, and her bitterness throughout the years didn't help. She's still bitter. I'm amazed that Dawson doesn't resent me and that somehow he stayed untouched by it.”

“Untouched? I doubt that. But maybe he had the strength of character to rise above it.”

She seemed to think about that.

“Are you spending time with him tomorrow?” Reed asked.

“He's going to pick me up early. We're going to play tennis at his apartment complex, then go to some museums, see more sights. I really do love San Antonio.”

The city was as vibrantly alive as Mallory herself, and Reed should have known she'd fit right in. Going to the wall, he turned on the security system, then went and sat on the edge of the open sofa bed. “I'm going to turn in. If I'm gone before you get up tomorrow morning, you have a good time.”

“I will,” she said softly.

There didn't seem to be anything else to say. When Mallory went into the bedroom, he settled on the sofa bed, thinking about their nights under the stars and wishing that's where they were right now.

 

Introducing a halter to the filly for the first time took all of Mallory's concentration on Monday afternoon. She spoke softly to the horse, touching her gently. Finally she slipped on the halter. The filly shook her head a few times. Then Mallory slipped it back off, knowing they had worked enough for one
afternoon. Leading the filly into the yearling pasture, she let her run free. Ears alert, tail flying, the young horse cavorted through the grass, meeting up with another filly.

Mallory headed back to the corral, thinking about Dawson and the wonderful day she'd had with him yesterday. They'd played tennis in the morning at his apartment complex. He had a great place, and he'd shown her the guest room where she could stay when he was back in San Antonio on a consistent basis. They'd gone out for lunch, toured a museum and visited another mission. Somehow he'd gotten tickets to a play, and she'd arrived back at the cabin around eleven-thirty.

But before she'd said goodbye to Dawson, he'd asked her a question.
Why did you marry Reed?
His expression had been serious, and she'd known he'd wanted the truth, not a flippant answer. So she'd explained the best she could what had happened and told him she didn't remember the marriage ceremony. He'd studied her then, and in the shadows of the car had said, “Maybe your heart did something your logic would never let you do.”