The Quiet Seduction (13 page)

“It was too good an opportunity to miss,” Tyler finished for him.

“You got it. It would be a smart move.”

“And our man Spence has never been called stupid.”

 

Spence Harrison frowned over the glue job on a broken model airplane. He'd set out a plate of cheese, pickle slices, salsa and sandwich meat, made a fresh pot of coffee, and then he'd waited. Now that he'd made up his mind to tell her, he wanted to get it off his chest. When he made his next move, it would have to be fast. There might not be time at that point for explanations.

Ellen kicked off her boots and came inside in a breath of cool, fresh air. “It won't be long now,” she said. “Oh, good, food! I'm starved!”

“How's Pete holding out?”

“In hog heaven.”

“In what?”

“Didn't I happen to mention I'm only half Texan? My mama was the daughter of a North Carolina hog baron. Every now and then she would slip up and let her roots show. It used to drive Daddy wild.”

“Your father married the daughter of a hog farmer and then broke off with you for marrying a soldier?”

“Don't turn up your nose at hog farmers, not unless you're willing to give up bacon, ham and pork chops.” She poked her head into the refrigerator and came up with a jar of mayonnaise. “Anyway, I like to think I got my business sense from Daddy and my common sense from Mama. At least I think she had some, but to tell the truth, I hardly remember her. You can see for yourself how far the Summerlin business savvy has taken me.”

He chuckled. Couldn't help it. When she was running on fumes, she didn't bother to maintain her defensive walls. “Oh, I don't know. Seems to me you're about to increase your assets by a healthy percentage.”

“I've already increased my vet bills by an even healthier percentage.” She added another layer to her creation and topped it off with a dash of black pepper. “Pete's decided now that he wants to be a veterinarian.” She eyed him, obviously waiting for a reaction.

“And you're not happy with the decision, right? Ellen, the kid's only eight years old. He's still got a few more stages to go through before he settles on a career. Fireman, jet pilot, rodeo rider.”

“Don't forget baseball player.” Lowering her gaze, she concentrated on trimming the ragged edges off her sandwich. “I'd sort of planned on our breeding horses, you know? Maybe even training them.”

“That was Jake's dream. Why not let your son figure out his own? Chances are, he'll come around, given time.”

She took a big bite and chewed, silent for so long he had to wonder if he'd overstepped some invisible boundary. The walls had definitely been there earlier, but he'd thought they were down again.

“Tell me something, Storm, did you follow in your father's footsteps? Oops…sorry, forget I asked.” Yeah, she was edgy, all right. He had a feeling it wasn't entirely about the mare, either. Was she thinking the same thing he was? About how good last night had been…and how soon they could manage an encore?

Which was unlikely, at least for the foreseeable future.

“I know I certainly didn't follow my father's dream,” she went on in that same brittle tone. “His dream was to triple his inheritance, expand his investment business and produce a slew of sons to carry on the Summerlin name. Instead he produced a single daughter who stubbornly refused to marry his gold-plated candidate.”

“Thank God for that,” Spence muttered. “At least you gave him a grandson.”

“No, I didn't. My father's never even met Pete. He wouldn't help me when I desperately needed help—I actually begged. Well, now that I don't need his help, it'll be a cold day in hell before I let him get his hands on my son.”

She didn't need her father's help? To Spence's way of thinking, she was about as needy as a woman could be. If not to her father, then where could she turn for help? To another husband?

The thought was distinctly unwelcome. Leaning back in his chair, he found he could easily picture her against a different background. Surprising, as he'd never seen her wearing anything but those baggy work clothes or a tattered chenille bathrobe.

Ellen took another bite of her sandwich, chewed thoughtfully, swallowed and took a sip of coffee. “Okay, so if Pete wants to be a vet, that's still connected to horses. I'll simply find a way to send him to school. There's plenty of time to save up.”

“To save up what?” It was cruel to remind her that she barely even had an income, but there were times when a man had to be cruel to be kind. Someone had to force her to look reality squarely in the face.

She shrugged. “The horses won't always be a drain. I can probably count on two more foals about every two or three years. If most of them turn out to be mares, when they grow up to breeding age…”

“There you go,” Spence said softly, because he didn't know what else to say. Or rather, he knew, but she wouldn't want to hear it. They were both well aware of all that could go wrong in the meantime.

“Things will work out, you'll see,” she said with a
lift of that stubborn, vulnerable chin that made him want to gather her in his arms and shelter her from reality.

Sure they would. “They have a way of doing that, you know,” he said. Except when they didn't.

She looked at him then—really looked at him. “Something's happened, hasn't it? I mean besides…you know. Last night.”

“What makes you say that?”

She shrugged. “I don't know, woman's intuition again?”

“Yeah, something's happened, Ellen.”

S
pence knew he couldn't put it off any longer. Things had been on hold far too long. Direct by nature, he was sick of having to skirt around the truth. Now that he finally knew the truth—or at least the part that showed above the horizon—he had to level with her.

Ellen never once interrupted. Once or twice she looked as if she wanted to, but he didn't give her an opening. Quickly, unemotionally, he told her who he was and where he'd been going when he'd been sidelined, adding the fact that he was unmarried and was not now, nor had he been in recent years, seriously involved with a woman. He didn't imagine the look of relief that flashed across her face.

“So there you have it,” he said when he was finished. “We both came pretty close to guessing the truth.”

“My God,” she whispered in an awed tone when he finished the bare-bones summary. “Why wasn't there more in the paper about your disappearance? I remember just one small story—oh, and wasn't there another piece about whatshisname being appointed in your place? I should think the disappearance of an important court official would warrant headlines in all the major Texas papers. Maybe it did. I only know what was in the
Clarion.
But what I read made it sound like you were taking an extended vacation or something.”

“Granted, it was played down, but then, Lone Star County's not exactly the center of the universe. They have to make editorial decisions, and they went with the really important events, like the high school football scores and the church bazaar's cake sale.”

“Stop it, this is serious.”

“Yeah, I know.” Hell, it bothered him, too. “Okay, I'm guessing someone covered for me.”

“But how, why?”

“Ellen, there's something I didn't tell you. I'm not at liberty to divulge all the details, but when I tangled with that twister I was on my way to prison to take an important deposition.” One he'd hoped would point him in the direction of some pretty telling evidence, if he'd been lucky. And careful. “As things stand now, the fewer people who know I'm still alive, the better. Which means I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone.”

“I won't, of course. Not even Pete?”

He hesitated for a long time. “Look, Ellen, I don't want to simply disappear, and I definitely don't want to have to lie to Pete any more than I already have, but you have to understand…these people I'm trying to bring down wouldn't hesitate to use you or Pete to get to me.”

Carefully she laid half a sandwich on her plate. Her face was a few degrees paler, her eyes darker, larger. “What do you mean, ‘use' us?”

“Just what you think I mean. If they had any reason to believe you were important to me, they'd know that by threatening you and Pete, they'd gain complete control over me.”

After a long silence she whispered, “But only if you cared.”

“Any decent man—” He sighed. He couldn't lie to her, not again. Yet how could he tell her how much he was coming to care when he was trying his damnedest not to care? He wasn't ready. Not now, maybe not ever, depending on how things worked out. She didn't need any more losses.

“Ellen, about last night…”

Reaching across the table, she covered his hand with hers. “Don't. It should never have happened, but it did, and I'm not sorry.”

“I promised you I'd be there for you if…you know. I mean, we didn't use protection last night.”

“Don't even think about that now. You've got enough on your mind. Are you leaving right away? You can take one of the trucks. Take the small one. You can leave it somewhere for me to collect later. The tank's full, and if I have to go into town, I can drive the duelly. Do you need to call someone first?”

“I had a cell phone with me when all hell broke loose.” He smiled, but it faded quickly. “I also had a brand-new car, the top half of a good suit, a tape recorder, a briefcase and a few other things I've probably forgotten about.” He would worry about the car later. With any luck it hadn't fallen in the wrong hands. “Right now what I need is to figure out some way to get in touch with a couple of friends without broadcasting my present whereabouts.”

“A phone call?”

“Not from your number. I honestly don't think anything would come of it, but those two guys who came around the night of the storm had to have had some reason to check this place out. I don't know where my car was found, or if it ever was, but the more I think about it, the more I wonder if they didn't have a tail
on me as soon as I left town that day. A few more miles out of town and I might have had a fatal accident. The weather just fouled up their plans.”

“Oh, God. If anyone had had to get caught in that twister, why couldn't it have been those two creeps?”

“I'm not sure they'd have both fit into your wheelbarrow.”

She ignored his feeble attempt at a joke. “At least I didn't tell them anything.”

“How about your friends, Booker and Clyde? They know exactly how long I've been here. For that matter, Pete might have mentioned something to his friend Joey. No reason why he wouldn't…we didn't ask him not to.”

She lowered her face to her hands. “Oh, Lord. It never even occurred to me.”

“Of course it didn't. Look, this is probably just a mild case of paranoia on my part, but humor me, will you? Another couple of days won't matter after this length of time. It'll give me a chance to think of some way to make contact with certain people and to find out what's going on behind the scenes before I make my grand comeback.” Meanwhile he could work out some way to protect her until he had things under control again.

“Then you'll stay here?”

It was the hope he saw glowing in those clear green eyes that nearly broke him. “Another day or so, if that's all right. By tomorrow or the next day I should have a pretty good idea of how things are shaping up in town. Once I do, I can figure out the best way to deal with it.”

Neither of them spoke for several moments. Spence wasn't thinking about the situation in Mission Creek,
he was thinking instead about what was going to happen in the downstairs bedroom once Pete had gone upstairs and they were sure he'd fallen asleep. God knows, he had no business involving her any more than she already was, but it was too late now. That particular genie was already out of the bottle.

“Ellen—”

They could hear Pete yelling all the way from the barn. “Mama, Mama, come quick!”

Ellen jumped up from the table. So did Spence. They raced out to the barn expecting the worst and found, instead, a wet, shaky foal, barely out of the sac.

Pete scampered back up the side of the stall, hanging over the slatted sides. “Look at it, Mom. See? Moxie did it all by herself! She didn't cry or anything, either, and boy, I bet it hurt real bad!”

The rest of the day, naturally enough, was taken up with admiring the new foal and checking on Miss Sara, who seemed more irritable than usual. Pete said it was because she was jealous. Moxie had a baby and Miss Sara didn't.

“I expect you're right. We'll keep a close watch on her,” Spence told him.

The vet showed up a few hours later and pronounced the new arrival sound. Pete said, “Can we call him Bowser?”

So much for adding to her breeding stock, Ellen thought ruefully. “Bowser's a fine name, but wouldn't you rather save it for when you get a new dog?”

Pete tilted his head thoughtfully. “It wouldn't be right to have two dogs named Bowser, but this Bowser's a horse, so that's okay.”

While he was there Doc Leonard checked on Miss Sara and predicted that she'd drop her own foal within
the next twenty-four hours. “Cross your fingers that this one's a girl,” Ellen said, hiding her disappointment over the new male addition to her breeding herd. Maybe she'd have done better breeding rabbits, only there wasn't much of a market for them.

 

Just before dark, claiming long-neglected bookkeeping, Ellen suggested Spence and Pete go exercise the geldings while she brought her records up to date. “If we're going to establish a creditable breeding operation here, I've got to record every detail.”

“You mean like who the mama is and who the daddy is,” Pete said.

“Even the grandparents. I've got all the papers, I just haven't looked at them in ages. You two run along, have a nice ride, and I'll get caught up here before Miss Sara goes into action.”

They rode out to the work site. They'd made a good start on repairing the fence before dark last night, but there was still work to be done. Spence said, “What do you say we finish up today? One of us can wait here and the other one can go get the truck and bring the tools.”

“I'll go get the truck,” Pete said, two big front teeth flashing in his thin, tanned face.

“Yeah, you do that. Your mama needs something else to worry about.”

“We could both go and I could steer while you did the other stuff. Mr. Caster let me steer the John Deere once, and he said I was a natural.”

“How about we get the fencing done and then worry about driving lessons?”

“Cool!”

Spence knew he'd spoken too hastily the minute the
words left his mouth. A plan was beginning to come together in his mind as he stood, feet apart, hands on his hips, and looked down the row of wire fencing that had been erected back when the land had held cattle instead of grapefruit trees.

Pete, planting his small booted feet apart and his hands on his hips in an unconscious imitation, nodded soberly. “Yeah, we'd better finish the fence first, then we can teach me to drive.”

The work went better than expected. They finished up well before dark, and then Spence ran the bench seat back as far as it would go and let Pete sit on the edge in front of him and steer. The ruts mostly did the job for him, but by the time they pulled up beside the tractor shed, the kid was grinning from ear to ear. In hog heaven, as Ellen would have said.

“Can I practice shifting gears tomorrow?”

“Let's not rush it. Give the first lesson time to sink in.”

“Yeah,” Pete said softly, his big dark eyes glowing in anticipation.

Spence could have kicked himself. Things were bad enough without setting up any false expectations.

 

Ellen protested that she really should set up a cot in the barn, but there was never any real question of who was going to sleep where. Or with whom. She said if he was still sore, a hot bath in the tub upstairs might help. There was only the small shower downstairs they'd had installed when the pantry and utility room had been combined to make another bedroom.

A cold shower might have made more sense under the circumstances, but they both knew what was going to happen. And wise or not, he wasn't going to turn
away. So while Spence soaked some of the soreness from muscles unaccustomed to such physical activity, Ellen made one last check on the mares. By the time he pulled the plug on what had to be the fastest tub bath in recorded history, he barely had the patience to dry off. While he was shaving off his late-day growth of beard—that much, at least, he could do for her—he heard the downstairs shower running.

Bath towel knotted around his hips, he hurried down the stairs. Ellen was already there, in his bed. The small bedside lamp shone warmly on her tangle of damp, dark hair and he remembered that her hair dryer, along with all her other gear, was still upstairs.

Not that it mattered. She was beautiful just as she was, lying in his bed with the spread pulled up to her shoulders. No false modesty, no pretense that she didn't know what was about to happen. That was one of the things he liked most about her—her honesty. In his line of work, all the players worked an angle.

Not Ellen. As some sage had once remarked, “What you see is what you get,” and God knew he wanted what he saw. Wanted it so much he was shivering.

“I found some, um— They're in the drawer.”

It had been twenty-one years since Spence had had his first woman. She'd been nineteen, five years older than he was at the time. He hadn't been nearly as nervous then as he was now.

“Yeah…that is, thanks. I mean—”

“Spence.”

“Huh?”

“Come to bed.”

Shaking his head, he had to grin. To think he'd once considered himself pretty sophisticated, a suave man-about-town.

After that there were few words. It was as if both of them knew that this might be the last time they would be together this way. He dropped his towel and she gazed openly at his naked body, as if to memorize it. Reaching up, she placed her hands on his sides and began to stroke, pulling him down beside her. “I love the way you look, all sleek and firm and muscular. The way you feel.”

The way he felt was explosive. Combustible. Spence stood it for as long as he could before he joined her on the bed. Leaning over, he braced his weight on his hands, determined to make it last as long as possible. Not until the instant before his lips touched hers did he close his eyes. Rocking his mouth against the moist softness of hers, he angled his face, tugging her lips apart.

Take it easy. Make it last. There might not be a second chance.

Taking it easy was never an option. Taking advantage of that one small opening, he deepened the kiss, abandoning any pretense of a more leisurely approach in the face of his increasingly desperate hunger. Her skin was warm and soft and smelled of soap, baby powder and essence of Ellen. If he lived to be a hundred years old, he would never forget it—never forget this sweet, independent, sexy, wonderful woman with the callused hands and the incendiary touch.

Conscious of the fleeting moments, he took the time to pay homage to each part of her body. Her breasts with the dark, rigid peaks and the shallow valley between them, her narrow waist, the gentle flare of her hips and the soft cradle of her belly.