Never the Twain (15 page)

This time it was no tidal wave that carried Genny on its crest, but an eruption, as Rock
arched his back and found release. She felt him come, felt the hot spurt of his seed against the
mouth of her womb.

She fell against him, sprawling across his heaving chest. His arms slipped loosely around
her as they both took long, shuddering breaths.

"Sweet Genny," he whispered. His hands were gentle, light upon her back, as he stroked
her. "Sexy, sensational, and sweet."

She felt like purring. "I had great material to work with." She kissed his shoulder, the only
part of him she could reach without moving.

Gradually lethargy overtook her, and she fell into light sleep, never losing her awareness of
Rock.

It grew chilly along about dark. Rock pulled the corduroy bedspread around them as they
lay across the foot of his king-sized bed. Genny slept in his arms, half waking and clutching at him
whenever he moved. He was content to remain where he was for the time being, although hunger
was fast making itself known. A cup of coffee at dawn and another, plus a donut, in Vale, didn't
constitute an adequate diet.

"Wake up, darlin'," he murmured as she moved in her sleep. "Supper time." He thought of
the casserole she had set out in the kitchen and his mouth watered.

"Hmmm?"

"Food, Genny."

"Mmmmm." She turned in his arms, nuzzling against his chin like a sleepy child.

He kissed her. He wanted to keep kissing her forever.

"Food sounds good," she said, her voice soft and sleep-blurred.

He flung back the spread. "I'll cook, while you shower." Rolling out, he stood and
stretched. God, but he felt good! Better than he had in ages.

She sat up and looked around. "Bathroom?" she asked, yawning.

He stepped into his Levi's and pointed with his chin. "There's a robe hanging on the
bathroom door, if you want it." Slipping his feet into elkhide moccasins, he grabbed the shirt
hanging from the bedside lamp and left. If he stood here and watched her prance around in her
altogether, it would be hours again before he had his supper.

The stew was defrosted, but hadn't warmed to room temperature. Rock set the microwave
timer and turned to the refrigerator. Some sliced tomatoes sounded good.

By the time Genny arrived in the kitchen, he had everything ready. "As soon as the stew's
hot, we can eat." He had to grin at the expression on her face as she took in the breakfast bar, set
with placemats and the everyday dishes. He could almost read her mind. Just because he was a
cowboy, she figured he wasn't any good around the kitchen. Tell that to Pancho. He'd made sure
Rock knew how to cook and keep house, not to mention do his own washing, before he went off to
the university.

She looked sexy as hell in his robe. It was too big for her, so she'd wrapped it almost twice
around herself. Midthigh length on him, it reached to her knees, and he found himself admiring
what he could see of her legs. He hadn't been paying much attention to legs, earlier. Hers were
spectacular. Slim, well-formed, showing good muscular definition when she walked. She was in
pretty good shape.

"Anything I can do?" She looked curiously around the kitchen. It was much bigger than
your ordinary kitchen, with a restaurant-sized range and a walk-in refrigerator. Pancho fed the
unmarried ranch hands from here.

"You can pour us something to drink. I'll have milk."

"Milk?" He thought he heard her giggle, but the timer on the microwave sounded just then,
so he wasn't sure.

"Yeah." He set the casserole on the counter and waited for her to pour milk into the two
glasses he'd set out. "I never thought to ask. Did you want coffee? Or tea? I can make some pretty
quick, in the microwave."

"No, milk's fine." She looked at him, smiling. "Everything looks so good."

It sure did, and Rock did it justice. So did Genny. He liked to see a woman eat. Selma had
always been dieting, and he'd gotten real tired of the rabbit food she served them all. He and Pa had
used to sneak out to the kitchen and raid the refrigerator for leftovers from the hands' supper.

When they were finished eating, she gathered up the dishes and carried them to the
dishwasher. "No need for you to do that," he protested. "You're company."

"You cooked, I'll clean," she said. "What do you want me to do with the leftovers?" She
tipped the casserole and Rock saw that there was perhaps a half a cup of stew left.

"I'll take care of it." He took the bowl, scraped its contents into a storage container. While
she was loading the dishwasher, he put condiments away, wiped the counters down, and swept the
floor.

"You know your way around a kitchen," Genny said, watching him finish the floor.

"Yeah. Does that surprise you?"

"Yes, it does. I wouldn't have expected a man like you," her hands made an indeterminate
gesture, "to be willing to do housework."

"It's not my favorite sport," he admitted. Looking at her across the kitchen, her hair still
damp, her bare toes curled against the tile, he felt a resurgence of desire. He waggled his eyebrows.
"Want me to show you what is?"

"I really should get home." But he could tell she wasn't real set on it.

"Later." Three long strides took him to her. Again he swept her into his arms.

She struggled. "But Sophie will be worried." She didn't struggle very hard.

"Call her. Tell her you'll be home later." Much later, he thought. Tomorrow, even.

Genny relaxed in his arms. Hours later, she made the call. No one answered, but Sophie
was probably asleep.

* * * *

"I still say I should have come home last night," Genny said, unlocking her back door. As
soon as it was open, Marmalade was all over her, complaining vociferously.

"What's the matter, baby? Were you lonely?" Genny stepped aside for Rock to follow her
indoors. Automatically she checked the cat's dishes. Both were all but empty. Sophie must have
forgotten to feed him.

Marmalade told Genny in no uncertain terms just how lonely and neglected he'd been.
Quickly Genny replenished water and dry food, then opened a rare can of gourmet cat food.
Marmalade's complaints changed to little growls as he attacked the treat.

"Coffee?" she asked Rock. When they'd awakened this morning, they'd reached for each
other. By the time passion yielded to satiation, it was nearly ten. Genny had refused anything but
instant coffee, something she rarely indulged in. All she could think of was how worried Sophie
must be, not knowing where she was or who she was with.

She reminded herself again that Sophie would have suspected she was with Rock, and
would have guessed where they were. The trouble was, Genny wasn't entirely comfortable with her
aunt knowing. There must still be a trace of the prude inside her, in spite of her wanton behavior
yesterday and several times during the night. Not to mention this wonderful, wonderful
morning.

She sighed in remembrance.

"What's wrong?" Rock said, apparently misinterpreting her sigh.

"Nothing," she assured him. "On the contrary, Rock, everything's right." She leaned against
him, reaching up to pull his head down for a kiss. Her lips were tender, as was almost all of her
body, but she needed his mouth.

I never knew I was insatiable.
Her arms, of their own accord, wrapped tightly around
his neck, holding him tightly. How good he felt! How good he made her feel!

She leaned into his kiss, giving it all her attention. When she finally came up for air, it was
because Marmalade was again complaining of neglect. Now he had eaten, he wanted attention.

"Sophie must have come in late," Genny said as she picked the cat up. "I've never known
her to sleep in like this." A frisson of worry touched her. Sophie was a lark. No matter how late she
stayed up at night, she was usually out for her morning walk by seven, at the latest.

"Maybe she's out somewhere," Rock said. "Look in her room."

Genny did, and found the bed mussed, Sophie's closet open, her dressing table in disarray.
"Rock! Rock, someone's been in here!"

She dashed to her own bedroom, but it was as she'd left it yesterday. Why, then, was
Sophie's room such a mess? Sophie was as tidy as a cat.

Rock was still in Sophie's room. "Genny, here's a note," he called.

She dashed back, snatched the folded paper from his hand.

"Genny, dear, I'm going to be away for a few days. Don't worry about me. I know exactly
what I'm doing."

It was signed with Sophie's characteristic, flowing "SE."

"Where is she? What is she doing?" Genny was near panic, wondering what had caused her
usually calm and dignified aunt to leave with no more explanation than this. How could she have left
her room in such disorder? "Rock, something's very wrong. This just isn't like Sophie. Not at
all."

"Let me see the note." He took it from her shaking hands. "Is this her writing?"

"Yes."

"Does it look like she was upset when she wrote it? Like she might have been forced to
write it?"

"No." Genny looked again. "No, it looks perfectly normal to me. But Sophie would never
go off like this, Rock. I just know she wouldn't." Her mind was spinning all sorts of fantasy
scenarios, in which Sophie was kidnapped and held for ransom. "Sophie's a wealthy woman, Rock.
You don't suppose...?"

He pulled her to him, held her comfortingly. "No, I don't suppose she's in any danger. I
think she just decided to go away for a few days, with someone she met, and didn't know how to get
in touch with you." His voice was gentle, reassuring.

"But--"

He held a finger against her lips. "But nothing, darlin'. Don't you worry about Miss
Enderby. She's one smart lady, and if she's gone somewhere, it's because she wants to. She'll be back
when she's good and ready."

"How can you know that?" No matter how reassuring Rock was, she wanted to know
where Sophie was. Disappearing like this just wasn't something her aunt would do.

She tore free of Rock's embrace and ran back to Sophie's room. A quick sort of the closet
contents showed that several of Sophie's dresses were missing, as were her white linen suit and three
pairs of heels. Genny checked the dresser next. Only a few nearly empty cosmetic containers
remained, and her jewelry case was gone.

Her jewelry case! Genny knew Sophie never traveled without a selection of her jewelry, and
she had considerable. Sophie liked precious stones, and was not above treating herself to new pieces
every so often. The latest addition, which she had proudly showed Genny, was a set of opal earrings,
beautiful stones surrounded with diamonds. Even though most of her collection was probably in her
safe deposit box back in Boston, Sophie had probably brought several thousand dollars worth of
baubles to Oregon with her.

She turned to Rock, her stomach churning. "Rock, she's in danger. I just know it."

"Aw, Genny, you're imagining things. Just because she left in a hurry, you're making a big
deal out of this. Your aunt wanted some time on her own. Maybe she found herself a man." His grin
was knowing.

"Sophie?" Genny felt a surge of indignation. How could Rock believe that Sophie...?
"Never!"

"Don't be too sure, little lady. She was givin' Pancho the come-on, out at Daniels'
place."

"She was not." Rock was an unsophisticated cowboy. He couldn't possibly understand a
cultured, refined woman like Sophie. Despite her worry, Genny had to admit there was no indication
that her aunt had been taken anywhere against her will. It was just easier for Genny to believe than
that Sophie would leave only a short note to explain her absence.

But she had not gone wherever with a man.

Not Sophie.

* * * *

Rock was having trouble keeping his laughter in control when he punched out Genny's
phone number that night. So Miss Enderby was too uppity to go off for a wild weekend with a man,
was she? Fat lot Genny knew. He had a hunch that there was a lot about Miss Enderby her niece
had never guessed.

"Hullo?" There was hope in her voice. Despite all his reassurances, this afternoon and
evening, she was still hoping to hear from Miss Enderby.

"I may have a clue to the whereabouts of your aunt," Rock said, the chuckles threatening
to escape.

"You do! Where is she?"

"I said a clue, darlin'. We can't know for certain until they come back."

"Back? They? Who, Rock? Who took her away?"

God! He felt sorry for her. She'd really worked herself into a panic again.

"There was a note from Pancho on the bulletin board when I got home. I have a hunch it
was there yesterday evening, when we were eatin' supper, but we missed it." He let the chuckle break
loose. "I wonder why?"

"Stop it, Rock. Just tell me what it said."

"Not much. Just that he'll be away for a few days and not to worry. Sounds suspicious,
doesn't it? Both of 'em being gone at the same time."

There was a long silence on the line. Rock began to worry that she had fainted or
something. Finally, "I still can't believe that she'd go off with a man. Sophie?"

"She's a woman, isn't she? Why wouldn't she?"

"But Rock, she's nearly sixty. I would have thought she'd be too old."

"Genny, they aren't too old until they're dead. Not out here in Owyhee Country,
anyways."

It was obvious that Genny couldn't quite accept what he'd told her. Well, that was okay.
He'd check back with her tomorrow night, make sure she wasn't making herself sick with worry. As
far as he was concerned, Miss Enderby was a consenting female. He just wished it hadn't been
Pancho she'd consented with. She was another fancy city woman, and one broken heart in the
household was enough.

Rock finally admitted that his feelings for Genny were more than simple lust. He wouldn't
go so far as to call his feeling love, but he sure was in like with her.

Now all he had to do was wait for her to tear him apart when she went back to
civilization.