Babes In Arms

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She shook her head. “No. He bribed and paid off people, and if he didn’t his father did.”

“There ought to be someone he couldn’t get to,” Colin said, feeling a growing anger for a man he had never met. “I can check into it if you’d like.”

“No!” Her eyes were filled with unmistakable fright. “Please, don’t do that. Sloan can be relentless. I don’t want anyone hurt because of me and it would just enrage him even more if he learned someone was checking on him.”

“I am not afraid of Sloan Manchester,” Colin said quietly, not making an effort to hide his anger.

“Please promise me you won’t start asking questions in Louisiana.”

He knew he was worrying her, so he nodded. “I promise. I not only won’t hit you, Katherine, I will never knowingly hurt you.”

Her eyes widened with surprise, a feeling that mirrored his own at himself. The words were out without thought and his statement suggested more than he intended. His promise implied a relationship, something he had no intention of developing with her.

“You know what I mean,” he said offhandedly, trying to make light of his promise.

She gave him a half smile, her lips curving, a warmth returning to her features, which made his breath catch. His gaze went over her and he forgot about her past and Sloan Manchester. He felt drawn to her, wanting to know her better, wishing he could keep her safe and wondering again at his reaction. What did she really look like without the makeup and with her hair down? His curiosity was rampant as he studied her.

“Can I take down your hair?” he asked, feeling absurd, yet not wanting to frighten her. He suspected the last time he had asked a female a question like that he had been ten years old.

Her eyes seemed to widen as she stared at him and nodded. He reached out carefully with one hand to extract pins, going slowly and trying to avoid even the slightest pull of her hair, as he thought a man could get lost forever in the cool green of her eyes.

As Colin Whitefeather stretched out his hand, Katherine’s heart beat with fright and she willed herself to sit still, thinking the first moment he made a move other than to take down her hair, she would put more distance between them. And suppose he wanted her? This afternoon she had placed herself at his mercy and tonight she might have to pay the consequences, because she couldn’t run in this storm.

Katherine felt his fingers brush her head, tug so gently on her hair, stirring strange tingles that she was unaccustomed to feeling. Long ago Sloan had killed all physical yearnings toward him. Sex was a dreaded event and she loathed Sloan’s touch. Once she started dating Sloan, there had never been another man in her life and she was unaccustomed to anyone wanting to touch her hair.

Her heart thudded with fear and her mouth felt dry while she watched Colin, staring into unfathomable dark eyes that gave no hint as to what he was thinking. His gaze shifted to her hair again as he pulled away another pin and placed it carefully on the table. He was slow and deliberate, barely touching her, not moving an inch closer, and gradually her racing heart slowed to a normal beat.

She began to calm, studying him, realizing his eyes were thickly lashed, his features almost too rugged to be called handsome. His skin was dark, a faint scar visible along his jaw now that she sat close to him and really looked at him.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked quietly.

“I wanted to see what you look like with your hair down.” His voice was quiet and deep and reassuring. She couldn’t recall a moment like this in her entire marriage to Sloan.

She wished she could make some light comment about her skittishness, yet she couldn’t. All afternoon and evening there had been moments when the slightest move on Colin Whitefeather’s part would set her heart pounding with apprehension, and it was difficult now to relax. There was no way to forget he was a big, powerful man. And one used to wielding his authority. He threaded his fingers through her hair, combing gently with his big hands. The faint tugs tingled and stirred a strange yearning in her while her gaze locked with his.

Watching her, taking great care, Colin slowly combed free her hair until the mass of it tumbled over her shoulders down to her waist. “Your hair is long,” he said in a husky voice, realizing the hints of beauty he had seen earlier were correct. Her hair was a silken cascade that gave her an earthy, touchable look. No practical, sensible hair here, but a mass of vibrant hair that conjured up erotic images of it spilling over her naked body.

“This isn’t the real color,” she admitted, touching a lock while he continued to comb his fingers through it.

“It’s red, isn’t it?”

“Yes. I colored it, trying to hide from the men Sloan sent after me. It was useless.”

“They’re pros and disguises won’t do you much good. You’re right—you’re too tall to really hide from them.”

She closed her eyes, feeling as if she had received a blow to her midsection. Was she that obvious?

“Katherine, turn around and I’ll give your shoulders a massage that will help you relax,” he said gently, trying to get the erotic images out of his mind.

Katherine studied him, gazing into dark eyes that stared back openly, waiting patiently, something she had never known Sloan to do. “Thanks, but that’s all right.”

“Turn around,” he said gently. “You should get used to someone being nice to you.”

Colin received another faint half smile as Katherine turned around. Feeling as if he were handling fragile crystal, he reached out carefully and lifted the heavy curtain of hair. She reached up and pulled it all over her right shoulder.

With care he touched her shoulders lightly. She stiffened, drawing a swift breath that he heard and he made his touch even lighter, leaning close to her ear. “I promised you, I won’t ever hurt you. Trust me. Pretend it’s your friend in California rubbing your shoulders,” Colin whispered, damning Sloan Manchester and determined to erase her fear if only for a few minutes.

Katherine shivered, hating his touch, frightened, feeling vulnerable, remembering the early days with Sloan, when he had started out touching her and acting friendly and then suddenly he had been cursing her and hurting her. Remembering too clearly, she gasped and stiffened. His hands stilled instantly.

“Shh, Katherine. It’s all right. You’re damn tense. I promised I won’t hurt you,” he whispered as his hands moved again, lightly massaging muscles that she guessed were probably in knots. He rubbed so faintly across her shoulders, keeping his touch impersonal. As he began to massage more strongly, she breathed deeply. Gradually her fear diminished, until finally it was gone. She relaxed, closing her eyes, trusting him and wondering if she would be disappointed.

“I trust you, Colin Whitefeather,” she whispered more to herself than him. “Don’t betray my trust, because it has been more years than I can remember since I trusted a man.”

Colin heard her mumbling and leaned forward and caught the last of her words. His heart lurched and he wanted to cradle her in his arms and tell her she was safe. And he couldn’t. If he did, he would be lying through his teeth to her. She would have his protection, probably for less than twenty-four hours. And he couldn’t offer her anything more than protection while she was under his roof.

She slanted him a look over her shoulder and his pulse jumped at the curiosity in her green eyes and the faint smile that curved her lips. “You said you’re not married. You must date someone.”

While they studied each other, he shook his head. Her eyes were thickly lashed, the dark red lashes curving. For the first time he realized she wasn’t wearing mascara on them. She had made her brows thicker, covered her face in thick makeup that was dark beneath her eyes, but her lashes were without the goop she had on her face. He wanted to take his handkerchief and wipe it all away, but he didn’t want to alarm her again.

“No. I haven’t wanted to date since Dana’s death.”

“How long ago?”

“Two years, five months and about ten days.”

She twisted around to stare at him. With the movement, her hair swirled across her back. “You must have loved her very much,” she said with wonder in her voice.

“I did.”

“I’m sorry, Colin.”

It was the first time she had called him by his first name and a little tingle of awareness startled him.

She turned around to let him continue the massage. He parted her hair, placing half over one shoulder and half over the other—out of the way of his hands. It left a triangle of flesh bare along her nape and he stared at the short locks curling above her collar, the satiny skin that he longed to brush with his fingers. The shorter hair at the nape of her neck was red. As he began to massage, Katherine’s shoulders felt delicate, and Colin realized the baggy clothes hid a slender figure because he could feel her shoulder blades through the fuzzy sweater.

“How will you support this baby?”

“I’m studying accounting. I’m taking correspondence courses from Louisiana State. I want to eventually get a degree in accounting.”

They sat in silence until finally she turned and scooted away from him, smiling at him. “Thank you. That was relaxing.”

She kicked off her shoes and turned to lean back on her arms and stretch out her long legs, placing her feet in front of the fire. Her tummy looked like a small round ball and he was still amazed she was due in a week.

“You said you’ve seen doctors. Did they tell you that you’ll have a small baby?”

“The last doctor said about six pounds.”

“You don’t look ready to deliver.”

“So how do you know so much about it?” she asked, tilting her head to study him.

“I don’t. I’ve just seen women and worked with women who are pregnant. I’ve delivered two babies.”

“My goodness!” she exclaimed, flashing him a dazzling, dimpled smile that made his heart race. “I’m in good hands then, if this baby decides not to follow the schedule.”

“Don’t even say it. I was terrified both times. One was a woman caught in a flooded area and another was a woman in a car on the way to the hospital. Somewhere there’s a little Colin named after me because of my midwifery.”

She laughed, and he wished he could keep her smiling all evening. Sitting on the floor near her feet, he shifted around to face her, locking his arms around his knees with his back to the dying fire. “Feet cold? I can place another log on the fire.”

“No need. This is warming my feet.”

“What would happen if you called the hometown papers and let them know about the gubernatorial candidate?” he asked. Immediately the shuttered look returned to her eyes.

“I tried that long ago. He’s got control of his press. He has good friends there.”

“He can’t have good friends at every Louisiana paper. Keep trying.”