her arm and pulled her back around to face him.
“I wasn’t complaining. In fact, I’m flattered. I can’t keep my eyes off you, either.”
“Faron—”
He laid two fingers across her mouth to silence her. His voice was gruff when he spoke again. “You’d better be careful how you look at me with those violet eyes of yours, Princess. I’ve got myself on a short tether. Don’t you go untying any knots.”
His fingers slid across her mouth to her cheek, and then tunneled up into her hair. Belinda found herself caught by Faron’s green-eyed gaze. It was a powerful force, the desire in a man’s eyes. It made a woman want to give herself up to him. Belinda felt her knees growing weak—nature’s method of getting a woman down so a man could couple with her more easily. She was having trouble catching her breath, and her mouth dropped open slightly for more air.
Faron saw it differently. He perceived her open mouth as an irresistible invitation. Faron had always liked parties, and he never turned one down. He didn’t now.
His head lowered slowly, and his lips parted slightly to match hers. He paused just before their mouths made contact and took a breath. Belinda felt as though he were stealing the breath right out of her. A soft moan sounded deep in her throat.
His lips were pliant against hers. And urgent. She felt his need as his tongue came searching hungrily for sustenance only she could provide. Her hands seemed to have a will of their own. They latched on to his shirt at the waist, then slid up behind his back and threaded into the curls at his nape.
She could feel the dampness where his hair was soaked with sweat. He smelled of hardworking man, a pungent odor, but one that made her think of his muscles bunching beneath cloth as he hefted a bale of hay. His body was hard where he had it pressed against her hips, and his mouth was hot and demanding on hers.
Belinda didn’t want to feel so much. Didn’t want to need so much. She felt the trap closing on her and at the last minute realized that she must escape. She yanked hard on Faron’s hair, and when he howled in pain she let go and backed away as quickly as she could.
“No,” she said. “We’re not going to do this.”
His eyes were feral, his body taut with need. He could still take her if he wanted to. Her aroused, aching body cried out for fulfillment. She saw him hesitate, torn between taking what he wanted or letting her go.
He whirled abruptly and headed for the sink on the back porch. He turned on the cold water full blast, yanked off his hat and threw it down, then stuck his head under the spigot. She stared as he cooled the back of his neck with the icy water. Then he stood and slung his wet hair back. His hands forked through the tangled black curls, setting them in some kind of order. Then he picked up his hat and settled it back on his head.
Water still dripped from his nose and chin and clumped on his eyelashes. But no signs of passion remained when he looked at her again. “You’ve got some supper ready for me, I believe.”
“Yes. I—Yes.” She turned and hurried inside, letting the screen door slam behind her. A moment later she heard it creak as he opened it and followed her inside.
Belinda could hardly believe the gentleman who exchanged witticisms with Madelyn at dinner was the same cowboy who had kissed her senseless on the back porch. Faron was absolutely charming. She could see he was good for Madelyn. He made the old woman laugh and even blush once. Asking him to leave was out of the question, even though it was what Belinda desperately wanted to do.
She urged Faron and Madelyn to stay in the dining room and talk while she cleared the table and washed the dishes. But she could hear everything they said through the open door to the kitchen. She cringed when she heard Madelyn ask whether Faron had ever been married.
“No,” he answered.
“Why not?” Madelyn asked.
“Never found the right woman, I guess.”
“What is it, exactly, you’re looking for?”
There was a long pause before he answered, “I’ll know her when I find her.”
Belinda smiled. Maybe Madelyn had met her match. Faron Whitelaw wasn’t the kind of man who could be manipulated. But she should have known her mother-in-law wouldn’t easily abandon her matchmaking efforts. Madelyn’s next question left Belinda gasping.
“How do you like Belinda?”
“She’s a hard worker.”
Madelyn chuckled. “She said the same thing about you. I suppose that’s one thing you both have in common. I wonder if there are any others.”
Again, that long pause.
“I admit I thought Belinda was, well, a little more pampered than she’s turned out to be.”
“Wayne wasn’t the most considerate of husbands.”
Belinda gritted her teeth. She wasn’t about to let Madelyn start talking about her marriage. She grabbed the apple pie on the counter and marched back through the open doorway. “Dessert, anyone?”
Belinda kept her expression bland, but she had a feeling she wasn’t fooling either of them.
“I love apple pie,” Faron said. “I’ll take a piece. How about you, Maddy?”
Belinda saw the flush rise on Madelyn’s cheeks as Faron turned his smile on her.
“Why, I guess I will join you.”
Faron turned that stunning smile on Belinda, and she felt flustered. She dropped the pie on the table and said, “I’ll go get some plates and the pie knife.
She turned just in time to keep the two of them from seeing the color race up her throat. This situation was unbearable! She had spent so many years learning to control her emotions, learning to keep what she was feeling hidden, because Wayne inevitably used it against her. All that Cowboy had to do was smile at her and she felt young and foolish again.
And desirable.
Lord, Lord, Lord, he made her feel like he wanted to lick her up like an ice cream cone on a hot Sunday afternoon.
Belinda leaned her forehead against the cool tile wall in the kitchen and took a deep breath. Then she scurried to find plates and a pie server before Faron came looking for her.
She could hear voices again from the other room.
“I’d love to play a little gin rummy,” Faron was saying. “Penny a point is fine with me.”
“You sure you wouldn’t mind?” Madelyn asked.
Belinda could hear the worry in the old woman’s voice. Madelyn didn’t like being a burden on anyone. She would know if Faron was lying about spending time with her. Belinda heaved a quiet sigh of relief when she heard Faron reply, “Maddy, there’s nothing I’d like better than skinning you at gin rummy.”
Madelyn giggled. It was a youthful sound and one Belinda couldn’t remember ever hearing from the old woman. Had their lives with Wayne been so very grim?
