quite broken, kicking your heels at a stallion, but all you need is a little calming down.”
“Don’t you compare me to a mare!” The furious words burst out of her throat and she was no longer confused; she was clearheaded and angry.
“That’s what you’ve always brought to mind—a long-legged little filly with big dark eyes, too skittish to stand under a friendly hand. I don’t think you’ve changed all that much. You’re still long legged, you’ve still got big dark eyes, and you’re still skittish. I’ve always liked chestnut horses,” he said, his voice sliding so low that it was almost a growl. “And I’ve always meant to have me a redheaded woman.”
Sheer rage vibrated through her slender body, and for a moment she was incapable of answering. When she was finally able to speak, her voice was hoarse and shaking with the force of her temper. “Well, it won’t be me! I suggest you go find yourself a chestnut mare.... That’s more your type!”
He was laughing at her. She could hear the low rumbling sound in his chest. She raised her clenched fist to hit him, and he moved with lightning reflexes, catching her delicate fist in his big, hard palm and holding it. She tried to jerk away, but he pulled her inexorably closer until she was close enough that their bodies just touched. He bent his head until his breath feathered warmly over her lips, and with the lightest of contacts he let his mouth move against hers as he said, “You’re the one, all right. You’re my redheaded woman. God knows I’ve waited long enough for you.”
“No—” she began, only to have her automatic protest cut short as he moved forward the tiny bit that was needed to firm the contact between their mouths. She shivered and stood still under his kiss. Since that morning when he had kissed her at the airport it seemed that she had done nothing but let him kiss her whenever he pleased, a situation that she had never even dreamed would develop. With a shock she realized that his behavior all day had been distinctly loverlike, and for the first time she wondered what lay behind his actions.
Her lack of response irritated him and he drew her roughly nearer, his mouth demanding more and more until she gave a muffled groan of pain as her muscles protested against the handling she was receiving. Immediately his arms relaxed and he raised his head. “I forgot,” he admitted huskily. “We’d better go in and get you taken care of before I forget again.”
Cathryn started to protest that she could take care of herself but bit the words back, afraid of prolonging the situation. With counterfeit docility she suffered the possessive arm that lay around her waist as they entered the house. There was no sign of either Monica or Ricky, for which she was profoundly grateful, as Rule went up the stairs with her, his arm still around her. She could imagine the comments either of them would have been likely to make and which she felt oddly incapable of handling just then.
Rule unsettled her; he always had. She had thought herself mature enough now to face him with calm indifference, only to find that where he was concerned she was far from indifferent. She hated him, she fiercely resented him, and underneath all of that lay the burning physical awareness that had haunted her during her marriage to David and made her feel as if she were being unfaithful...to Rule, not her own husband! It was stupid. She had sincerely loved David and suffered after his death, and yet... She had always been aware that, while David could take her to the moon, Rule had made her reach the stars.
To her surprise Rule left her at her bedroom door and continued down the hall to his own room. Not questioning her good luck, Cathryn quickly entered her room and closed the door. She longed for a soak in a tub of hot water to ease her protesting muscles, but the only bathroom with a full tub, instead of a shower stall, was down the hall between Rule’s bedroom and Monica’s, and she didn’t want to risk an encounter with either of them. Sighing in regret, she began unbuttoning her dress. She had slipped three of the buttons loose when a brief hard knock on the door, a knock which preceded Rule by only a split second, had her whirling around in a startled movement that made her wince with pain.
“Sorry about that,” Rule muttered. “Here’s the liniment.”
She reached out for the bottle of clear liquid and saw his eyes drop to the unbuttoned neckline of her dress. In instantaneous reaction she felt her breasts tighten and grow heated in that bitter, uncontrolled response she had to him. She drew a ragged, protesting breath, and his eyes lifted slowly to her face. His pupils were dilated, his skin taut as he sensed, like a wild animal, the way it was with her. For a moment she thought that he was going to heed the primal call; then, with a stifled curse, he shoved the bottle into her hand.
“I can wait,” he said, and left as abruptly as he had entered.
Cathryn felt as if her legs were going to collapse beneath her and she moved to the bed, sinking gratefully onto the white chenille bedspread. If that wasn’t a close call, she didn’t know what was!
After carefully rubbing her legs and buttocks with the pungent liniment, she put on her nightgown and crawled stiffly into bed, but despite her weariness she was unable to sleep. Everything that had been said that day drifted through her tired mind with maddening persistence.
Rule. Everything came back to him. Cathryn thought she knew enough about men in general, and Rule in particular, to recognize passion, and Rule did nothing to hide his arousal when he kissed her. But Rule was a complicated man, and she didn’t feel that he was motivated solely by simple lust. He was like an iceberg only allowing a small bit to show. He kept most of himself submerged, hidden from view, and she could only guess at his motives. Was it the ranch? Was Ricky right after all in her assessment? Was he trying to make the ranch legally his by marrying the owner?
She drew her thoughts up sharply. Married! What made her think that Rule would ever consider marriage? She was beginning to understand that he could control her easily enough by other means, and the realization was sharply humiliating. Unless he did want the ranch legally...? He was a man with a dark past; who could guess at the importance of the ranch to him? She could well imagine that to him it represented his salvation, both physically and emotionally.
Whatever happened, she didn’t want to let herself become embroiled with him. And whatever his motive, she was certain that she wouldn’t be able to shield herself from harm. She was so frighteningly vulnerable to him....
Cathryn had intended to get up early, but her intentions weren’t strong enough to do the job and it was after ten when she rolled over groggily and pushed her hair out of her face to peer at the clock. She yawned and stretched, cutting the motion short with a wince of pain. Easing gingerly out of the bed, she decided that she wasn’t as sore as she had feared she would be, but she was still sore enough. As Rule would have been out of the house for hours by now, she felt safely able to have that hot bath, and she gathered up her clothes, then beat a path to the bathroom.
An hour later she felt considerably better, though still stiff. She rubbed the liniment into her muscles again, then decided to ignore the pain. Despite the night’s uncomfortable beginning, the long sleep had completely refreshed her and her dark eyes were sparkling, her cheeks delicately pink. Her hair was pulled back on each side with a matching pair of tortoiseshell combs, giving her the look of a teenager. For a moment as she looked in the mirror she had a disturbing sense of looking into the past, as if the reflection she saw was that of the young girl she had been on a hot summer day, gleefully planning on a ride to the river. Had she smiled that way? she wondered as her lips curved in a faint smile of secret anticipation. Anticipation of what?
She studied the face in the mirror, searching for an answer. The delicate features revealed nothing; she saw only the elusive smile, a certain
