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“Well, sort of.” She shrugged. “He stole my purse. He couldn’t have known I was a karate student.”
“Oh, my God,” he burst out. His eyes narrowed, his jaw tautened. “That lying old turkey!”
“How dare you call my aunt a turkey!” she returned hotly. “After all she’s doing for you?”
“What, exactly, is she doing for me?”
“Well, bringing me here, to help you write your memoirs before…the end,” she faltered. “She told me all about your incurable illness—”
“Incurable illness?” he bellowed.
“You’re dying,” she told him.
“Like hell I am,” he said fiercely.
“You don’t have to act brave and deny it,” she replied hesitantly. “She told me that you wanted young people around to cheer you up. And somebody to help you write your memoirs. I’m going to be a novelist one day,” she added. “I want to be a writer.”
“Good. You can practice with your aunt’s obituary,” he muttered, glaring toward the door.
“You can’t do that to a helpless old lady,” she began.
“Watch me.” He was heading for the door, his very stride frightening.
“Oh, no! You can’t!” She ran after him, got in front of him and plastered herself against the door. “You’ll have to go through me.”
“Suits me, Joan of Arc,” he grumbled, catching her by the waist. He lifted her clear off the floor until she was unnervingly at eye level with him. “You sweet little angel of mercy, you.”
“Put me down or I’ll…I’ll put you down,” she threatened.
He stared amusedly into her blue eyes under impossibly thick lashes. “Will you? Go ahead. Show me how you earned that red belt.”
She tried. She used every trick her instructor had taught her, and all it accomplished was to leave her dangling from his powerful hands, panting into his mocking smile.
“Had enough?” she huffed.
“Not at all. Aren’t you finished yet?” he asked politely.
She aimed one more kick, which he blocked effortlessly. She sagged in his powerful hold. Lord, he was strong! “Okay,” she said, sighing wearily. “Now I’m finished.”
“Next time,” he told her as he put her back on her feet, leaving his hands tightly around her waist, “make sure your intended victim didn’t take the same course of study. My belt is black. Tenth degree.”
“Damn you!” she cursed sharply.
“And we’ll have no more of that in this house,” he said shortly, emphasizing the angry remark with a reproachful slap to her bottom, nodding as she gasped in outrage. “You’ve been working in that garage for too long already, if that’s any example of what you’re being taught.”
“I’m not a child!” she retorted. “I’m an adult!”
“No, you aren’t,” he replied, jerking her against him with a mocking smile. “But maybe I can help you grow up a little.”
He bent his head and found her lips with a single smooth motion, pressing her neck back against his muscular shoulder with the fierce possessiveness of his hard mouth.
Mari thought that in all her life nothing so unexpected had ever happened to her. His lips were warm and hard and insistent, forcing hers open so that he could put the tip of his tongue just under them, his breath tasting of coffee and mint, the strength of his big body overwhelming her with its hard warmth.
For an instant she tried to struggle, only to find herself enveloped in his arms, wrapped up against him so tightly that she could hardly breathe. And everywhere her face turned, his was there, his mouth provocative, sensuous, biting at hers, doing the most intimate things to it.
Her legs felt funny. They began to tremble as they came into sudden and shocking contact with his. Her heart raced. Her body began to ache with heat and odd longings. Her breath caught somewhere in her chest, and her breasts felt swollen. Because these new sensations frightened her, she tried to struggle. But he only held her tighter, not brutally but firmly, and went on kissing her.
His fingers were in her hair, tugging gently, strong and warm at her nape as they turned her face where he wanted it. His mouth pressed roughly against hers and opened softly, teaching hers. Eventually the drugging sweetness of it took the fight out of her. With a tiny sigh she began to relax.
“Open your mouth, Mari,” he murmured in a deep, rough whisper, punctuating the command with a sensual brushing of his open lips against hers.
She obeyed him without hearing him, her body with a new heat, her hands searching over his arms to find hard muscle and warm strength through the fabric. She wanted to touch his skin, to experience every hard line of him. She wanted to open his shirt and touch his chest and see if the wiry softness she could feel through it was thick hair….
Her abandon shocked her back to reality. Her eyes opened and she tugged at his arms, only vaguely aware of the sudden, fierce hunger in his mouth just before he felt her resistance. He lifted his head, taking quick, short breaths, and by the time her eyes opened, he was back in control.
He was watching her, half amused, half mocking. He lifted his mouth, breathing through his nose, and let her move away.
“You little virgin,” he accused in a tone that she didn’t recognize. “You don’t even know how to make love.”
Her swollen lips could barely form words. She had to swallow and try twice to make herself heard. “That wasn’t fair,” she said finally.
“Why not?” he asked. “You tried to kick me, didn’t you?”
“That isn’t the way…a gentleman gets even,” she said, still panting.
“I’m no gentleman,” he assured her, smiling even with those cold green eyes. The smile grew colder as he realized how close he’d come to letting her knock him off balance physically. She was dangerous. Part of him wanted her off the property. But another part was hungry for more of that innocently ardent response he’d won from her. His own emotions confused him. “Haven’t you realized yet why you’re here, Georgia peach?” he asked mockingly. And when she shook her head, he continued, half amused. “Aunt Lillian is matchmaking. She wants you to marry me.”
Mari’s pupils dilated. “Marry you!”
His back stiffened. She didn’t have to make it sound like the rack, did she? He glared down at her. “Well, plenty have wanted to, let me tell you,” he muttered.
“Masochists,” she shot back, humiliated by her aunt, his attitude and that unexpectedly ardent attack just minutes before. “Anyway,” she said salvaging her pride, “Aunt Lillian would never—”
“She did.” He studied her with a cold smile. “But I’m too old for you and too jaded. And I don’t want to risk my heart again. So go home. Fast.”
“It can’t be fast enough to suit me. Honest,” she told him huskily as she tried to catch her breath. “I don’t want to wake up shackled to a man like you.”
“How flattering of you.”
“I want a partner, not a possessor,” she said shakily. “I thought I knew something about men until just now. I don’t know anything at all. And I’ll be delighted to go back home and join a convent!”
“Was it that bad?” he taunted.
“You scare me, big man,” she said and meant it. She backed away from him. “I’ll stick to my own age group from now on, thanks. I’ll bet you’ve forgotten more about making love than I’ll ever learn.”
He smiled slowly, surprised by her frankness. “I probably have. But you’re pretty sweet all the same.”
“Years too young for a renegade like you.”
“I could be tempted,” he murmured thoughtfully.
“I couldn’t. You’d seduce me and leave me pregnant, and Aunt Lillian would quit, and I’d have to go away and invent a husband I didn’t have, and our child would grow up never knowing his father…” she burst out.
His eyes widened. He actually chuckled. “My God, what an imagination.”
“I told you I wanted to be a writer,” she reminded him. “And now, since you’re not dying, would you mind leaving me to pack? I think I can be out of here in ten minutes.”
“She’ll be heartbroken,” he said unexpectedly.
“That’s not my problem.”
“She’s your aunt. Of course it’s your problem,” he returned. “You can’t possibly leave now. She’d—”
“Oh!”
The cry came from downstairs. They looked at each other and both dived for the door, opening it just in time to find Lillian on her back on the bottom step, groaning, one leg in an unnatural position.
Mari rushed down the stairs just behind Ward. “Oh, Aunt Lillian!” she wailed, staring at the strained old face with its pasty complexion. “How could you do this to me?”
“To you?” Lillian bit off, groaning again. “Child, it’s my leg!”
“I was going to leave—” Mari began.
“Leave the dishes for you, no doubt.” Ward jumped in with a warning glance in Mari’s direction. “Isn’t that right, Miss Raymond?” Fate was working for him as usual, he mused. Now he’d have a little time to find out just why this woman disturbed him so much. And to get her well out of his system, one way or another, before she left. He had to prove to himself that Mari wasn’t capable of doing to him what Caroline had done. It was a matter of male pride.
Mari swallowed, wondering whether to go along with Ward. He did look pretty threatening. And huge. “Uh, that’s right. The dishes. But I can do them!” she added brightly.
“It looks like…you may be doing them…for quite a while, if you…don’t mind,” Lillian panted between groans while Wade rushed to the telephone and dialed the emergency service number.
“You poor darling.” Mari sighed, holding Lillian’s wrinkled hand. “What happened?”
“I missed Ward and wondered if he might be…if you might be…” She cleared her throat and stared at Mari through layers of pain. “You didn’t say anything to him?” she asked quickly. “About his…condition?”
Mari bit her tongue. Forgive me for lying, Lord, she thought. She crossed her fingers behind her. “Of course not,” she assured her aunt with a blank smile. “He was just telling me about the ranch.”
“Thank God.” Lillian sank back. “My leg’s broken, you know,” she bit off. She glanced up as Ward rejoined them, scowling down at her. She forced a pitiful smile. “Well, boss, I guess you’ll have to send for your grandmother,” she said slyly.
He glared at her. “Like hell! I just got her off the place! Anyway, why should I?” he continued, bending to hold her other hand. “Your niece won’t mind a little cooking, will she?” he added with a pointed glance at Mari.
Mari shifted restlessly. “Well, actually—”
“Of course she won’t.” Lillian grinned and then grimaced. “Will you, darling? You need to…recuperate.” She chose her words carefully. “From your bad experience,” she added, jerking her head toward Ward, her eyes pleading with her niece. “You know, at the shopping center?”
“Oh. That bad experience.” Mari nodded, glancing at Ward and touching her lower lip where it was slightly swollen.
A corner of his mouth curved up and his eyes twinkled. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?” he murmured.
“It was terrible!” Lillian broke in.
“You said it,” Mari agreed blithely, her blue eyes accusing. “Besides, I thought you couldn’t wait to push me out the door.”
“You want her to leave?” Lillian wailed.
“No, I don’t want her to leave,” Ward said with suffering patience. He lifted his chin and stared down his straight nose at Mari, then smiled. “I’ve got plans for her,” he added in a tone that was a threat in itself.
That was what bothered Mari. Now she was trapped by Lillian’s lies and Ward’s allegiance to his housekeeper. She wondered what on earth she was going to do, caught between the two of them, and she wondered why Ward Jessup wanted her to stay. He hated women most of the time, from what Lillian had divulged about him. He wasn’t a marrying man, and he was a notorious womanizer. Surely he wouldn’t try to seduce her. Would he?
She stared at him over Lillian’s supine form with troubled eyes. He had an unscrupulous reputation. She wasn’t so innocent that she hadn’t recognized that evident hunger in his hard mouth just before she’d started fighting him.
But his green eyes mocked her, dared her, challenged her. She’d stay, he told himself. He’d coax her into it. Then he could find some way to make her show her true colors. He was betting there was a little of Caroline’s makeup in her, too. She was just another female despite her innocence. She was a woman, and all women were unscrupulous and calculating. If he could make her drop the disguise, if he could prove she was just like all the other she-cats, he could rid himself of his unexpected lust. Lust, of course, was all it was. He forgave Lillian for her fall. It was going to work right in with his plans. Yes, it was.
Chapter Four
Lillian was comfortably settled in a room in the small Ravine hospital. The doctor had ordered a series of tests—not because of her broken leg but because of her blood pressure reading taken in the emergency room.
“Will she be all right, do you think?” Mari asked Ward as they waited for the doctor to speak to them. For most of the evening they’d been sitting in this waiting room. Ward paced and drank black coffee while Mari just stared into space worriedly. Lillian was her last living relative. Without the older woman she’d be all alone.
“She’s tough,” Ward said noncommittally. He glared at his watch. “My God, I hate waiting! I almost wish I smoked so that I’d have something to help kill the time.”
“You don’t smoke?” Mari said with surprise.
“Never could stand the things,” he muttered. “Clogging up my lungs with smoke never seemed sensible.”
Her eyebrows lifted. “But you drink.”
“Not to excess,” he returned, glancing down at her. “I like whiskey and water once in a blue moon, and I’ll take a drink of white wine. But I won’t do it and drive.” He grinned. “All those commercials got to me. Those crashing beer glasses stick in my mind.”
She smiled back a little shyly. “I don’t drink at all.”
“I guess not, tenderfoot,” he murmured. “You aren’t old enough to need to.”
“My dad used to say that it isn’t the age, it’s the mileage.”
His eyebrows arched. “How much mileage do you have, lady?” he taunted. “You look and feel pretty green to me.”
Her face colored furiously, and she hated that knowing look on his dark face. “Listen here, Mr. Jessup—”
“Mr. Jessup.” His name was echoed by a young resident physician, who came walking up in a white coat holding a clipboard. He shook hands with Ward and nodded as he was introduced tersely to Mari.
“She’ll be all right,” he told the two brusquely. “But I’d like to keep her one more day and run some more tests. She’s furious, but I think it’s for the best. Her blood pressure was abnormally high when we admitted her and it still is. I think that she might have had a slight stroke and that it caused her fall.”
Mari had sudden horrible visions and went pale. “Oh, no,” she whispered.
“I said, I think,” the young doctor emphasized and then smiled. “She might have lost her balance for a number of reasons. That’s why I want to run the tests. Even a minor ear infection or sinusitis could have caused it. I want to know for sure. But one thing’s certain, and that’s her attitude toward the high blood pressure medication she hasn’t been taking.”
Ward and Mari exchanged puzzled glances. “I wasn’t aware that she had high blood pressure medication,” Ward said.
“I guessed that,” the young doctor said ruefully. “She was diagnosed a few weeks ago by Dr. Bradley. She didn’t even get the prescription filled.” He sighed. “She seems to look upon it as a death sentence, which is absurd. It’s not, if she just takes care of herself.”
