Marry in Haste... (13 page)

But it was the look in Reed's eyes when he'd first seen her in the dress that had pleased her. He hadn't said anything, but the nerve in his jaw had twitched and he hadn't taken his eyes off of her for most of the night. She hadn't worn it to provoke him. She just needed to feel good about herself. It was the same reason she'd curled her hair and applied makeup. Maybe she just considered this her coming-out party.

A short while ago Lily had introduced her to two ranchers' wives and praised her talents as a decorator. One of them had said, “If you're going to be staying in the area, I'd certainly hire you.”

The remark had given Mallory hope that she could succeed here.

Seeing that one of the cheese platters was almost empty, she picked it up to take it to the kitchen to refill. She'd seen Rosita pass through the dining room earlier on her way to the courtyard where more snack trays were located. But as Mallory entered the kitchen, she saw and heard Brody and Reed.

“I know it was fast,” Reed was saying.

“Are you sure you didn't marry Mallory on the rebound?” Brody asked.

She stopped immediately, aware that she had interrupted a private discussion. But they knew she'd overheard and there was no getting around it.

“Will you give us a few minutes alone, Brody?” Reed asked his brother.

“This might take more than a few minutes,” Brody responded as he glanced at Mallory apologetically and left the kitchen.

Mallory set the cheese dish on the counter and faced Reed. “Is that what Griff and Matilda think, too?”

“Anybody who sees you in that dress tonight should realize marrying you had nothing to do with being on the rebound.”

He was talking about desire again, a man wanting a woman for purely physical reasons. She had hoped they'd gotten further than that. Yet hadn't the first time they'd made love proved her feelings were involved but his weren't? The hurt and sadness she'd felt this past week turned to anger. “You don't have to get married to have sex, Reed. I think it's about time you admit your motives for marrying me. You wanted revenge. You wanted to prove to your fiancée
that you didn't need her. But in doing that you used
me
and you used me again when we…had sex.”

His eyes were stormy blue and his voice vehemently deep. “Did
you
use
me?
Because there were two of us in that bed having an awfully good time.”

A good time. A fling. An affair. Those were obviously what he wanted, and she didn't. There wasn't anything else to say.

His words still echoed as she tore her gaze from his and quickly went back into the dining room.

As Mallory passed through the great room, weaving in and out of the guests, she knew she had to be alone for a few minutes to compose herself. She headed for the powder room down one of the halls. But when she reached it, Matilda was there beside her. “Are you okay?”

She took a deep breath. “I'm fine.”

“Brody told me he said something he shouldn't have, at least not with you within hearing distance. Did it cause a problem with you and Reed?”

She had a feeling Matilda wasn't going to let this go, and she might as well warn Reed's sister that this marriage wasn't going to be a marriage for very long.

“Reed and I have more than one problem.”

With an appraising look, Matilda studied her. “And you don't want to talk about it.”

“It's not that I don't want to, but there are reasons I shouldn't.” Not that she believed Winston actually had any spies here, but their marriage had to appear real. Matilda was too honest to pretend it was if Mallory told her differently.

“Fair enough. But if you
do
need to talk, I can
listen. I love Reed dearly, but, more than anybody, I know how frustrating he and the others can be.”

Mallory had to smile at that. She'd always wanted a big brother, and she'd had Dawson on a limited basis. But she didn't know how she'd feel if she had three or more males trying to protect her and daily tell her what to do. “I'll remember that,” she told Matilda, wishing they actually could be sisters-in-law, wishing she could truly be part of Reed's family. But most of all, wishing Reed felt love in addition to desire.

 

On Monday afternoon, the salad that Mallory had made for lunch sat on the desk beside her as she estimated start-up costs for her shop. She'd realized she'd let her plans come to a standstill because of Winston and Clint Lockhart and Reed, so this morning she had done some real planning, budgeting, and written up a résumé.

She was about to take a bite of her salad when she heard the mail carrier's truck. He'd driven off by the time she'd walked outside to the mailbox at the end of the path. She recognized one envelope immediately. It had her stepfather's return address. She'd called her mother last week to reassure her she was fine. Yet she knew her mother didn't believe her.

Back in the cabin, Mallory laid the rest of the mail on the table and quickly opened his envelope. When she took out the letter, a check fluttered to the floor. Picking it up, she saw the amount and froze. Then she read the letter.

Mallory didn't know whether to laugh, cry or scream. She was holding what most people would consider to be a fortune in her hand, and she didn't want it! Didn't George and her mother know her at all? Didn't they understand that she couldn't be bought? Going to the phone, she picked it up and dialed her stepfather's office number. She knew that he was the one behind this and that her mother went along with decisions he made. His secretary answered and put Mallory through immediately, as if she had been given orders to do so.

“Mallory, I'm so glad you called,” George said in greeting. “I knew you would see the light.”

“George, I can't accept this check. I
won't
accept this check.”

“Now don't talk nonsense, Mallory.”

“It's not nonsense. Being independent doesn't mean taking money from you. I intend to earn and pay my own way.”

“But Winston says—”

“I don't care what Winston says. I am not marrying him, George, and that's final.”

“This foolishness has got to stop, Mallory. Your mother is worried sick. She wants to see you settled with Winston—”

He wasn't listening again. He never listened. More than angry, she was just sad that he had such tunnel vision because it affected her mother, as well. “George, money will not bring me happiness. It can't buy me the things I want in life.”

“You're a young woman who's never had to face reality. You have your head in the clouds if you think you can get through life on anything but a solid bank account. That check is a ticket to a marriage that will bring you social standing, a dowry that Winston will be glad to accept—”

“You want to bribe him to take me back?”

“Of course not. Winston doesn't need bribing.”

“But I do?” She paused and regrouped. “George, now listen to me carefully. I'm going to keep your check, but I'm not going to cash it. I'm going to frame it. It's going to be my symbol of independence. Every time I look at it, I'll know what real independence is.”

“You're a fool, Mallory.”

“No. What I am is determined. You'll see.”

Before he could give her another lecture, she hung up. She wouldn't be able to convince George or her mother of anything until she had proven herself. Well, that was exactly what she was going to do. Putting the check on top of the letter, she laid both safely inside the corner of the secretary, then sat there to go over her figures once more.

G
ray clouds swirled in the hazy white sky as Mallory drove to the barn later that afternoon. She wanted to ride. Her stepfather's check had created turmoil. Add to that what had happened with Reed last night at the cocktail party, and she couldn't sit still. If she could just slip into the barn and out again without anyone seeing her, she could go off on her own and sort through all of this.

The usual trucks and utility vehicles were parked near the barn. She saw Reed's among them. But fortunately only Hank was around when she went to Dusty Dawn's stall. She told him she was going to take the horse out for a ride.

Hank peered out at the sky. “Doesn't look like much is happening, but don't stay out too long. The storm's not going to be blowing over. I can feel it in my bones.”

“I need some space around me, Hank.”

Hank jerked his thumb outside. “Reed's over in the mares' barn consulting with the vet. Maybe you should talk to him first.”

“I don't want to bother him. I'll be fine. Really.”

“You could wait till Miss Matilda and Griff come back from Cruz's place….”

“It might be raining by then. I promise, if thunder rolls in, I'll come straight back.”

The old cowhand still looked worried but helped her saddle up anyway. She rode out, not looking back, taking the route along the fence line where she had ridden with Reed.

As Mallory gave Dusty Dawn his head, she let the wind whip her hat to her back. It slapped against her, but she didn't care. She just wanted to run—from hurt, from anger, from Winston and her stepfather, from the visions of Reed making love to her, from her love for him. How could she feel so deeply in such a short amount of time?

Trees rushed by and Dusty's hooves kicked up dry earth behind them. She was so lost in her thoughts that the rumble of thunder barely registered. She just kept riding, not knowing where she was going, but knowing she didn't want to go back. Not yet. Then all of a sudden, lightning flashed over the horizon and Dusty's ears twitched.

She realized thunder definitely had rolled in. Patting his neck, she murmured, “It's okay, boy. We'll head back.”

Looking around, she realized she'd ridden farther than she and Reed had, farther than she'd intended. She'd been so focused on running that she hadn't noticed where she was running to. As she brought Dusty to a lope, the scent of rain was strong in the wind. Finally she recognized the vee formation of a stand of live oaks on the crest of a hill, but by the time she turned south toward the Double Crown, the clouds opened and rain poured down as lightning flickered and thunder cracked.

“We're going to get wet, Dusty. No denying that.”

She loosened her grip on the reins to snag her hat and set it back on her head. But as she did, a jagged stab of lightning fired against the dark sky. Thunder boomed, and Dusty reared up, taking off on another run. Her balance jostled, Mallory's chin almost touched Dusty's mane as she grabbed for the reins.

Out of nowhere Reed came galloping toward her, and she groaned. She did
not
want to be rescued. Gathering her reins, she pulled them away from Reed as he grabbed for them at the same time.

“Why are you out here in this?” he yelled over the sound of the wind and rain.

“I needed to ride.”

Even under the brim of his hat, she could see his eyes, and it was as if he noted the word “needed.” “You shouldn't be out here alone and you know it.”

“No, I don't know it. Don't you understand? I needed some time alone.”

The rain dripped from the brim of his hat. “Why must you always be so damned independent?”

He made “independent” sound like a terrible affliction. “Being independent is a good thing, not a character flaw.”

With both of them now soaked to the skin, he shook his head. “Let's get going or Hank will be worried about us.”

Sitting stiffly in the saddle, she nudged Dusty and took off ahead of Reed. But he soon caught up.

Hank was waiting for them back at the barn when they dismounted. “Looks like you two won't need no shower tonight.” After giving the cowhand a weak smile, Mallory took Dusty's reins and led him into
the barn. She heard Reed say, “We'll take care of the horses, Hank, if you want to quit for the day.”

“I got a truck that needs some work over at the garage. I'll be there if anybody wants me.”

Tossing her hat onto a bale of hay, Mallory took Dusty into his stall, unsaddled him, then rubbed him down. She imagined Reed was taking care of Spirit in a like manner, only when he was finished he'd turn the stallion into his pasture where there was a loafing shed if the horse didn't want to stand in the weather. The breeze whipping through the open barn door chilled Mallory. Her wet cotton blouse and jeans clung to her as she groomed Dusty, moving around him, wanting to take care of the horse before she took care of herself.

Just as she was closing the stall door, Reed came into the barn carrying a blanket. He thrust it at her. “Here, use this to dry off before you catch pneumonia.”

His shirt and jeans were as wet as hers. Though his hair looked as if it had been kept fairly dry under his hat, hers was damp, the ends even wetter. She pushed the blanket back into his arms. “I don't need it, just as I didn't need you coming after me like some macho cowboy on a mission.”

The vibrations emanating from him made every nerve of her body feel alive and tingling. She didn't want to feel it. She didn't want to look into his blue eyes and see his disapproval
or
his sense of responsibility. Grooming brush in hand, she headed for the tack room to put it away. But she had only gone about ten feet when he caught her in front of an empty stall. His hand on her shoulder clasped her firmly, but she
didn't want to turn around. Yet she knew he wouldn't let go of her until she did.

She faced him squarely. “What do you want, Reed? Do you want me to say thank you for watching over me? Thank you.”

“I don't want your thanks,” he growled.

In the moment it took for her heart to beat, his lips crushed hers, and she knew exactly what he
did
want. Her wet blouse and his shirt met, practically giving off steam with the heat of their desire. If she considered pushing away, it was only for an instant before his tongue invaded her lips and she got lost again in the sensual pleasure of kissing him. He ravished her mouth until she melted against him, wanting him…needing him…loving him.

When he broke away, she stared up at him bereft, wondering if he was punishing her for keeping her distance, for denying the obvious desire between them.

His voice was gravelly as he said, “I won't take what you don't want to give. Do you want this, too?”

“This” to him was excitement and desire and arousal, but she did want it because she wanted
him.
She wanted his love, but maybe his desire would have to be enough. “Yes, Reed,” she responded to his question. “I want this. I want you.”

“Mallory, you make me crazy,” he said almost sternly, but then he took her face between his large hands and kissed her with the passion she could feel stringing his body…with a deep hungry need he'd called up inside of her from the moment they'd met.

When he dropped his hands, she almost protested until she felt him pull her blouse loose from her jeans.
Taking his lead, she reached for the buttons of his shirt and unfastened them as quickly as she could, the wet material as well as his kiss distracting her. He had her blouse open before she managed his shirt. Soon he'd unsnapped her jeans and was pushing them down her hips.

This time
she
broke the kiss. “You're too far ahead.”

He laughed, then pulled off his boots and took her with him down onto the fresh straw inside the stall. It was prickly but she hardly noticed as he ridded her of her boots and jeans and panties. Her fingers fumbled with the leather of his belt and when her hand brushed his fly, he groaned. She grated the zipper down, knowing they were both past teasing, whispers and foreplay. She shrugged out of her blouse as he shed his shirt, then they stared at each other for a moment. The intense look in his eyes told her he was waiting for her to say stop…waiting for her to run away. But she couldn't. She wanted so much from Reed that if she had to settle for this heated coming together, she would.

She knew he was waiting for a signal from her and when she glanced at his arousal, she could almost feel it pulsing with the beat of her heart. “I only have one piece left,” she murmured, referring to her lacy bra.

“I know,” he said in a tight voice.

“Do you want to take it off, or should I?” she asked.

A dark flush swept his cheekbones as he came to his knees and reached around her. The lace fell away. Holding her at her waist, he brought his lips to one nipple. She laced her hand in his hair and moaned at
the sensual, erotic rasp of his tongue as he teased the bud over and over. The apex of her thighs throbbed. She was hot, and she needed him in the most primitive way a woman could need a man.

His hands, the calluses sensually arousing, came up her sides, and as he raised his head, he covered her breasts with his palms. “I've dreamed of doing this again.” His deep tone was rich with desire.

“What else?” she encouraged him.

“Everything,” he muttered, then kissed her, a deep possessive kiss. Bringing her down with him, he pulled her on top of him. Instinctively knowing what he wanted, she straddled his hips, then slowly—oh, so slowly—sank down onto him.

She trembled from the wonder of receiving him, taking him, pleasuring him. His shudder as he thrust up into her told her he was near the edge. Yet she should have known he wouldn't search for his own satisfaction without taking her along.

“Come here,” he said hoarsely as he raised his hands.

She leaned into them, and he stroked her breasts, arching into her at the same time, creating a fiery escalating excitement that was making her breathless. Then one of his hands slipped between their bodies, and she thought she'd burst from the glorious sensation. He thrust again, touching her at the same time until the arousing ripple built and built and built, finally exploding in a shattering burst of pleasure. Her body was still loving his when his climax hit and his groans reverberated through her. In this moment, they were one, and she needed to hold on to him for as long as she could.

When his breathing slowed, she raised herself up and gazed into his eyes. He didn't say anything or move anything and she wondered if she had done something wrong…if maybe she'd been too wanton. Beginning to feel embarrassed, she started to shift away from him, but he settled his hands on her hips and ordered, “Don't move. I just want to look at you.”

She could feel a blush sweeping over her. “I'm sure I look a mess.” Her fingers went to her damp hair.

But his gaze didn't waver and his hands stayed firmly in place. “You're beautiful, Mallory. You could never look a mess if you tried.”

Her eyes pricked with tears. “Thank you.”

A smile crept across his lips. “And you can even be a lady at a time like this.”

She knew he was teasing her and she smiled. The straw was prickling her knees and she said to him, “You've got to be terribly uncomfortable.”

This time he gave her a full-fledged grin. “Not as uncomfortable as I was about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Are you trying to embarrass me to death?”

He shook his head, and then his expression became serious. “Mallory, we didn't use protection. I want you to know—”

“Let's just take one day at a time,” she suggested. “I'm having enough trouble with that.” She didn't want him offering her money. The idea of having Reed's baby was a wonderful thought. When he did go back to Australia and leave her, if she was pregnant, she'd have someone special to love, someone to remind her of him.

She did move away from him now, but he opened his arms to her. “Come here.”

When she lay beside him, he held her close and kissed her temple. “It won't hurt to take a few minutes to catch our breath.”

Lying here beside him this way, normal breathing was impossible. She heard a horse snort, a tail swish. The smell of hay and rain and earth was all around her, but so was the scent of Reed, and she loved breathing him in. “What if someone comes in?”

“We're married, remember? This isn't against the law.”

Married. How she wished that were really true. But no amount of wishing could keep Reed here or make him love her. As she'd told him, they'd just have to take one day at a time.

 

After they dressed, laughing about their still-wet clothes, they drove back to the cabin. Reed parked first, then came to her car and opened her door for her. The rain had stopped and the sky was brightening. They walked to the door, comfortable, their arms brushing.

Reed said, “Ryan has a whole slew of tickets for a rodeo Wednesday night. He thought we'd all enjoy it. Do you want to go?”

“That sounds like fun. Only…Dawson should be getting in Wednesday afternoon.”

“There's a ticket for him, too.” Reed smiled at her.

“Fortunes will probably take up the whole grandstand,” she teased.

“Probably.”

Once in the cabin, Reed went to the bedroom for
some dry clothes, wondering how to ask Mallory if they'd be sleeping in the bed together that night. It was all he could think of—holding her in his arms all night. But before he could figure out the best way to put it into words, the telephone rang. When Mallory said, “I'll get it,” he opened a drawer and took out a pair of jeans. But a moment later she was standing in the bedroom doorway, her expression odd. “It's for you. Stephanie Milton.”

What could Stephanie possibly want and why had she chosen this moment to call? Since he couldn't answer either of those questions, he went to the phone and picked up the receiver that Mallory had laid on the counter. “Hello? Stephanie?”