City Girl (19 page)

She sucked in a deep breath through her mouth and peered about the gloom of the garage. "In that case, Cleave," she said sweetly, "maybe you had better get on to work." He nodded and started to slip away. "Cleave," she called him back. "I just wanted to say thanks."

Fresh color flamed his cheeks, but he smiled and shrugged again. "Aw, that's okay. No problem."

She smiled lamely, and he escaped into the impersonal sunshine.

What Cleave had told Crystal both infuriated and worried her, but she decided not to confront Garrett with this particular bit of information. It just seemed wiser not to bring up any new problems. Besides, she was not desirous of attention from any male. She only wished that she had been allowed the prerogative.

As it turned out, she didn't have the opportunity to confront Garrett anyway. Later that evening, when she went to the kitchen to pick up her dinner tray, Lupe informed her that Garrett had taken off in his private airplane to attend to business matters elsewhere. The relief Crystal experienced was almost overwhelming, and for the first time she realized how depressed she had been lately.

It was difficult for her to stay in her room that evening. Her self-imposed solitary confinement had not been so difficult to bear when she thought that it would save her from contact with Garrett, but now that that threat was removed, she longed to go out and join the others in the courtyard. Still, since she was officially off-limits to the men on the ranch and Gloria despised her so, there was no real reason to go out. She toyed with the idea of going over to see Connie Hardesty, but remembered that Rod had said that morning that they were going to take the children to a drive-in movie over in Heritage Springs. Despondently Crystal resigned herself to another lonely evening—and there were many more to follow.

The weather turned sizzling. By day the ranch was very busy, in spite of the heat. It was branding time, and the cowboys worked from daylight to dark each day. Lupe was heavily into spring cleaning, and that helped to keep Gloria out of Crystal's way, but it also kept Lupe too busy to visit with her.

For a week Garrett stayed away, and though Crystal told herself that she was glad he was gone, she found herself hoping that he would return soon. To combat that feeling, she took to dropping in on Connie Hardesty for a visit when she delivered the children home each day. They usually had lunch together, but Crystal realized that Connie had her own life to live, and with five children, it was a very busy life. One long day stretched into another, and Crystal developed a severe case of restlessness.

It was Friday night, and everyone seemed to have a place to go except her. She had nothing but a long, lonely day to look forward to tomorrow, and she was dreading it. Thankfully the weather had cooled off again, but that only increased Crystal's desire to be out and moving around.

With a sigh of resignation she went to bed early, but found it impossible to sleep. After tossing fitfully for some time, she climbed down off the big rose bed, trod softly to the window seat, and pulled wide the green shutters. A delicate, compelling breeze wafted gently through the open window. A chorus of crickets chirped busily, serenading her through the black night.

Impulsively she dug out a pair of shorts and a big, gauzy shirt. She stripped off her filmy baby-doll pajamas and slipped into the shorts, then pulled the big shirt over her head and shrugged her arms into the elbow-length sleeves. She put a pair of rubber thongs on her bare feet and went quietly outside for a walk.

The whole world seemed to be sleeping, oblivious of her footsteps falling between the tufts of dense grass. The muted whinny of a horse sounded in the darkness, and Crystal decided to visit the stables. Pungent smells —oats, dung, and horseflesh—combined upon the night air to lure her onward.

For a few minutes she sat upon the top rail of the corral, drinking in the peaceful, silver-speckled sky. The barest sliver of a moon hung against the black velvet, wavering sleepily. A newly wakened chorus of crickets made music for her with their hind legs. An invisible whip-poor-will joined them with its hauntingly sweet cry, then hushed itself abruptly.

Crystal jumped down from her perch, nearly sliding through her thongs upon impact. Fine, powdery dust covered the ground around the corral, which was packed hard by the pounding it received daily from the horses' hooves. She straightened and wiggled her toes to get the sand out from between them. One ankle had taken the impact harder than the other and felt a little shaky. She decided to ignore it, hoping it would go away in few minutes' time.

The stable was quiet and pleasantly warm. The stalls were all along one wall, with a tack room at one end and a bin of hay at another. Some of the hay had fallen over onto the dirt floor in a little heap. Here and there, a horse bumped the walls of his stall and snorted out a hot, relaxed breath. Her presence did not disturb them.

Crystal walked down the long row of stalls, her ankle becoming more and more touchy with each step, looking for Sweet Momma. She intended to fetch a handful of hay for the old girl, but by the time she had located the horse and then gone for the hay, her ankle was paining her greatly.

Disgustedly she plopped down on the little pile of sweet-smelling loose hay and examined her tender ankle by the delicate light of the moon falling through a small dusty window.

"Is it all right?"

Crystal leaped backward, startled by the sound of Garrett's voice coming to her out of the shadows, and bumped her head against the hay bin.

"Ouch!" Her hand went immediately to, the bump on the back of her head, and his deep chuckle wafted through the opaque air.

"You better let me help you before you knock yourself out," he said half-teasingly, emerging from the darkness.

"You scared me," Crystal accused, her heart beating like a trip-hammer.

He went down on his haunches and lifted her foot gently in his large capable hand. He worked the ankle easily, saw her wince, and shook his head. "It's not a bad sprain," he said, "but I wouldn't go walking around on it."

The dusty moonlight glinted off his golden head, casting silver highlights to it. Crystal wanted to reach out her hand and caress it softly. She stifled the impulse, bracing herself against the hay as he continued to examine her ankle.

"Where are your boots?" he asked suddenly, jerking his head up so that those breathtaking blue eyes impaled her squarely.

"In my room."

"Well, if you had worn them, this wouldn't have happened."

She pulled her ankle from his grasp, tucking it protectively beneath her. For a long, tense moment she cast about for something to say.

Garrett plucked a straw from the pile of hay and clamped it between his teeth, shifting his weight about on his cramped legs. When he spoke, his voice was soft and velvety. "I was looking for you." —

"Oh?" The sound was thin in the night air.

"I just got back a little while ago, and I went straight to your room. You weren't there." He slanted her a look.

"Oh," she repeated. Why couldn't she think of something more interesting to say?

With an exclamation Garrett snatched the straw from his mouth and speared it into the hay next to Crystal's bare leg. "We can't keep on avoiding each other," he said propelling himself upward to a standing position. Darkness shrouded his face. A shaft of moonlight fell across his chest, where his shirt, open to the waist, showed taut, tanned muscles dusted over with coarse blond hair. "I can't stay away just to keep from seeing you!" he said jerkily.

Crystal suppressed a thrill of joy. At once she realized how irrational and useless it was for her to feel that way. Never, not ever, could she trust his feelings for her, she reminded herself strictly, and never could she reveal her feelings for him.

"Listen, Garrett, I've been thinking," she rushed. "I really ought to get out of here. I mean, I need to be looking for a permanent position somewhere, and… and…" She covered her face with her hands as the flow of words died away.

"Look at me, Crystal," he commanded softly. Then again, "Look at me!"

Slowly she lifted her eyes to him. In the moonlight they were glistening green pools, like the eyes of a frightened animal. She could feel the rapid pulsing of blood in the veins of her neck, the constricting of her chest as the air caught in her lungs.

He came down on his knees, his hands reaching out to cup her face gently, pulling her toward him. She inhaled him through her nostrils, masculine and earthy and musky. She was totally helpless against the gentle urging of his hands and the desire tingling throughout her body.

He enveloped her in his arms. His mouth found hers and sent electricity coursing through her as he pushed her down on the hay.

She was totally unprepared for the gentleness, the way he held her tightly but tenderly in his arms, the firmness of his thighs against her bare legs as he worked his weight onto her, the light, sensuous stroking of his hand at her breast. His every touch sent flames licking along the sensitive nerve endings of her body.

It was useless. She couldn't fight this, not when she delighted in each movement of his hands across her body.

He seemed intent upon discovering all the vulnerable, secret parts of her, and even as she damned herself, she exulted in his lovemaking, the feel of his back muscles rippling beneath her fingertips.

She wanted him to love her. How she wanted him to love her!

And yet… there was a vastness between love and mere physical attraction, and she wanted them both, could not settle for less.

His lips moved lightly across her face and to her neck, trailing hot, torturous kisses over her satiny skin, urging her to match her abandon with his. And she wanted to, desperately. But she could not, not like this, not without knowing that he loved her.

Clinging to every ounce of strength within her, Crystal pushed her fists up between them and pressed hard against his chest. "Let me go!" she demanded breathlessly.

His lips stopped their gentle caressing. His hand slid from her body, and the arm beneath her back relaxed. He lifted himself, one arm supporting his weight, and looked down at her, blue eyes wavering between smoky desire and irritation.

"Why, Crystal? You don't really want me to." He stated it as a fact about which there could be no doubt. "I've been on your mind as much as you've been on mine."

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, not bothering to refute his last statement.

He chuckled softly under his breath. "Like I said, you've been on my mind—almost constantly lately, interfering with my work, my sleep, everything. And the only way I know to get you out of my head is to get you into my bed."

Anger flashed up in Crystal. She pressed her hands against his chest and tried to shove him away from her, struggling beneath him. He sighed and rolled away.

"What am I?" she shouted harshly, picking herself up from the hay, tears stinging her eyes. "Something to satisfy your cravings?"

He lay on his back in the moonlight, hands tucked beneath his head. A slow, wicked smile played across his lips. "Well, you're not the sophisticated city girl you pretend to be," he returned smartly. "You've never been in a man's bed, have you?"

Rage crimsoned Crystal's face. Her fists clenched at her sides. He knew so well exactly how to hurt her, exactly how to make her angry when he could not get what he wanted from her willingly. She pulled herself up, ignoring the sharp pain in her ankle. "No. And when I do, it won't be yours!"

He kicked at the air with one booted foot and came straight up to his feet, capturing one of her wrists with his big hand. "Yes, it will," he promised, voice flat and threatening. "You want it as badly as I do—only I've decided to stop pretending otherwise."

"Never!" she hissed at him. "Never!" Tears dripped from her chin, and she wiped at them defiantly with her free hand, yanking against his steely grasp as she did so.

"What you are offering me I can get from any man on the place, any stranger with a few minutes to spare!"

"You do," he growled through clenched teeth, "and I'll break your pretty neck!"

Simultaneously Crystal's mouth fell open and he dropped her hand. Then, in one fluid movement he swept her up into his arms and shook her like a reluctant child.

"Put me down!" she railed, pummeling his strong shoulder with her fists, but he ignored her and strode through the musky darkness toward the door.

All the way to the house, Crystal demanded, begged, reasoned, and demanded again that Garrett let her down, but he paid her as much heed as a pesky gnat. Finally, defeated, she rested her head against his shoulder and cried softly, thoroughly wetting the fabric of his shirt.

Garrett kicked open the door to her room, and Crystal renewed her protests, fearing this strong, quiet, determined man who so destroyed her defenses one instant and angered her the next.

"Cut it out, will you," he flared suddenly. Unceremoniously, he dropped her down upon the big canopied rosewood bed. His hands went to his hips in that all-too-familiar pose, as he snorted down at her in disgust. "I don't know what your problem is," he announced, contempt and anger lacing his voice, "but I'm not in the habit of raping my women!"

An unintentional sigh of relief escaped Crystal's lips.

Garrett stared down at her for a moment, an exasperated expression in his blue eyes. Then with a short, disgusted motion of his hand, he wheeled and strode from the room.