Denim and Lace (22 page)

She arched back, wanting the barriers out of the way, wanting his eyes on her. He seemed to sense it. His hands slowly eased the hem up, giving her plenty of time to refuse if she wanted to. But she was drowning in the same fire he was. She moved, but only to help him.

He stripped off the camisole and stared down at her with eyes blazing with desire. “It's been a long time since I've looked at you like this,” he said quietly. His fingers trailed over the pale pink of her skin, up to the dark mauve aureoles with their hard tips. “You're firm. You don't even need to wear a bra, do you?”

She moved under his hand. “No. But it feels...uncomfortable without one. Men...men stare at me, so I wear jackets... Cade!”

His head had bent and his mouth was taking her inside, into the warm, moist suction of his lips while one hand supported her back and the other cupped the breast he was savoring.

Her hands clenched his thick, black hair. “Oh, don't stop,” she wailed. “It feels...so good, Cade!”

She tasted of petals, cool and firm and sweet in his mouth. He lifted her so that her other breast was lying cool and soft against his bare chest, and he groaned at the intimate contact. His body was hardening already, coming alive with need for her.

She let him lay her down, her eyes open, dark and soft, looking up into his as he poised over her. She was trembling slightly, her trusting eyes telling him that he could do anything he wanted to her and she'd welcome him.

It gave him a sense of power, complicated by a sense of terrible responsibility. She'd already said that she didn't want to sleep with him until they were married.

His hands slid to her hips, cradling them, his eyes fell on her trembling legs as he caressed her slowly.

She could see his need. It was blatantly visible. “If you need to,” she whispered, “I won't stop you.”

He drew in a harsh breath. “You said you didn't want it tonight,” he reminded them both.

“You're hurting,” she whispered brokenly.

He groaned at the look in her eyes, the knowing compassion. He dragged her hand up his body and pressed it against him, shuddering with pleasure. “Yes, I'm hurting,” he whispered. His fingers pressed harder over hers, and he saw her fascination even while he gloried in her shy acknowledgment of his capability. “But that's the best reason in the world to stop while I can. This kind of desire is violent, not like that long, slow session we had together in bed. I want you enough to throw you against the pillows and ravish you. That isn't what you need.”

Her eyes widened. “Ravish...me?” she whispered.

He laughed helplessly at the look on her face when she said it. The laughter helped him defuse what they were feeling. He fell beside her, rolling over onto his back to hold her gently at his side while he fumbled above his head for a cigarette and lighter and ashtray on the coffee table.

“You're really going to stop?” she asked.

“If you could have seen your eyes,” he said, chuckling as he lit the cigarette and placed the ashtray on his chest. “My God.”

“Well, nobody ever threatened to ravish me before, not even you,” she pointed out. She sat up, all too aware of her bare breasts and his warm, appreciative eyes on them. She liked that, so she didn't try to cover herself. “What is it like to be ravished?”

“When you're a little more used to me, I'll show you,” he murmured. “My God, they're beautiful,” he whispered, involuntarily pressing his lips reverently to the soft swell of her breast, delighting in her gasp and the way she leaned closer. “All of you is beautiful.”

“So are you,” she replied, love dancing in her eyes.

“All of me?” he murmured dryly, his gaze falling to the place he'd made her touch.

She hid her face in his hairy chest with a laugh. “Stop that. It's too new to joke about. I've never touched anyone...!”

“Yes, I know. When we're married, I'll teach you how to do it properly, and without two layers of fabric in the way.”

She knew her face was scarlet. It felt blazing hot, as well. “And...and you'll touch me like that?” she whispered.

His arm contracted. “And in other ways,” he replied quietly. “We've barely scratched the surface.”

“I can't imagine anything more perfect than it was that day, Cade,” she said softly. “Even if it did hurt at first.”

“You were very much a virgin,” he murmured. “And I had to push harder than I wanted to.”

She gasped and clutched at him, remembering, shivering.

He lifted his head and looked down into her eyes. “I watched your face. I saw you become a woman.”

She opened her mouth to the hard exploration of his. As the fevers began to burn again, she sighed, not protesting when he moved, so that his hips were square over hers, his arousal hard against her belly, his long legs entwined with hers, his bare chest faintly abrasive on her breasts. She moaned at the depth and ferocity of the kiss.

For one long, sweet minute she gave in completely. And then his mouth lifted and he moved back beside her, shuddering a little as he fought for control. He raised his cigarette to his mouth and took a long draw, reached for the ashtray, and tapped the cigarette against the clear glass edge.

“Are you all right?” she asked softly.

“Yes.” He pulled her cheek to his chest, gently holding her there. His heartbeat all but shook him. “We're so good together, honey,” he said huskily.

She brushed her lips over his shirt, one soft hand teasing him around the opening of it where thick hair curled out. But his fingers caught hers and stilled them.

“Don't,” he said softly. “I'm too aroused already.”

“Sorry.” She flushed and then smiled at her own lack of knowledge. “I'm still learning.”

“So am I,” he murmured. He sighed heavily. “Bess, I've got to get out of here before something happens. I want you like hell.” He got up with obvious reluctance and pulled her up with him. His dark eyes slid over her face possessively. “I'll pick you up at six if you want to come to the rodeo with me. We'll get breakfast on the way.”

Her heartbeat shook her. It was new and fascinating to have Cade offering to take her anywhere, wanting to be with her. Such a change from the old days that she could hardly believe it was happening.

“Do you really want to marry me before we find out about...” she began.

“Yes.” He bent and kissed her softly. “I've missed you so,” he whispered huskily. “And judging by your reactions, you haven't been celebrating since we've been apart. We'll let the future take care of itself. Anyway, honey, if you aren't pregnant now, you will be before many more weeks,” he added with a gentle laugh, and then he kissed her, not seeing the pain in her eyes.

She let him out, watching him go with anguish. She didn't know how she was going to go through with it and live with her conscience. She owed him the truth. But she couldn't tell him. She didn't know how.

He picked her up just after daylight the next morning and had the misfortune to be seen by Señora Lopez next door, who was opening her living room curtains. She immediately closed them back, her expression eloquent.

“I'll have to tell her that we didn't spend the night together,” Bess murmured, disturbed to have her favorite neighbor think ill of her. “I know it's the 1990s, but the señora is a devout Catholic and she doesn't move with the times.” She sighed. “Until just now she didn't think I did either.”

He chuckled, wrapping his long arm around her. “She can be forgiven for thinking the worst—it's early.” He looked down at her with a rueful smile. “And it's true enough. You and I have slept together.”

She colored prettily, pressing close to his side as they walked. “Oh, yes, we have,” she whispered huskily.

His hand tightened roughly on her shoulder. “The sweetest memory of my life, Bess, right or wrong,” he replied and brushed his lips against her forehead. “The next time I'll make it all come right for you.”

She knew what he meant and her heart went wild. “You did that already,” she whispered.

“Not the way I'm going to.” He drew her along to the pickup truck and put her into the cab. “We'd better talk about something else.” He chuckled, watching his hands shake as he lit a cigarette. His dancing eyes met hers. “You affect me pretty strongly these days. A man on a starvation diet gets nerves.”

She laughed delightedly. It was incredible to see Cade admitting to nerves. And nice. She gave him an adoring look and fastened her seat belt. For once her conscience let her alone.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

C
ADE
TOOK
B
ESS
to the rodeo, and she sat in the stands and watched him bronc riding and calf roping with her heart in her throat. He looked so at home on a horse, so lean and powerful, that she could see other women eyeing him covetously. She smiled, because he was hers. He'd given nothing to any other woman for three years. That proved he was capable of fidelity. Even if he didn't love her, he wanted her enough to remain true to her. That spoke volumes about his character.

The bronc riding was the event she feared most. He'd come through the calf roping with ease and grace, but bronc riding was tricky. If he drew a really bad horse, or if something diverted his attention, he could be thrown and trampled. One competitor early on had suffered that indignity and had to be half dragged, half carried out of the arena with his hand clutching his ribs. Bess sat on the edge of her seat, praying every inch of the way.

Cade came out of the chute with his hand high, his spurred boots raking neatly from neck to flank on the opening jump and keeping the rhythm clean and neat as the seconds ticked away. The commentator was saying something about the skill it took to drag those spurs that distance while staying in the saddle and commending the way Cade was getting the last ounce of bucking out of that bronc. Before his voice died away, the buzzer sounded and Cade was looking for a way off the furious horse. He threw one leg over and jumped, landing with precision on both boots, but the bronc wheeled and snorted, bucking right toward him. Cade timed it perfectly while Bess sat shivering with fear. He waited until the horse was almost on him, then he dashed past it and leaped onto the corral, quickly easing over the fence and out of harm's way. There was a lot of laughter from the other competitors, and he was patted on the back while everyone waited for his time. They called it out, and the crowd went wild. He had the best score of the day. There were only two other competitors after him, both of whom were thrown before the first two seconds of their rides. Cade took top money and got a second place in calf roping. Bess sat in the stands beaming with pride, and when the awards were given out, she stood in the shelter of Cade's arm with her whole heart in her face as she looked up at him.

That night she lay in his arms on the sofa, curling close, and listened to him talk about the competition. He was still winding down from the physical exertion of it, even though he'd borrowed her bathroom to have a long, hot shower. He was stiff and sore, and Bess had rubbed his broad shoulders and back with alcohol, trying to ignore his sensual innuendos when her hands stopped at the waistband of his jeans.

“We'll live at Lariat,” he said, looking down at her quietly.

“Yes, I know.”

“I guess it will take a lot of adjusting for you,” he said, leaning back to smoke his cigarette. “There aren't many frivolities, and the plumbing leaves a lot to be desired.”

She felt chills down her spine. She didn't know what else to say to convince him that his lack of wealth didn't matter to her. It never had. She loved him. “Cade, I'll be happy at Lariat,” she said. “I hope I can make you happy, too.”

He sighed and bent to kiss her gently. “Well, we'll see how it works out,” he said noncommittally. He glanced at his watch. “I've got to get back to the hotel. I'll be over early if you'll fix breakfast.”

She got up, hesitating. “You...you don't want to stay?” she asked, looking so shyly curious that he smiled involuntarily.

He pulled her hands to his broad, bare chest, smoothing them over the thick hair on it. “Yes, I want to stay, sore muscles and all,” he replied. “But I'm not going to. We're going to do it by the book. One lapse was enough, and I don't want people looking at you the way your next-door neighbor did this morning because of me.” That had disturbed him, more than he wanted to admit. He didn't want people thinking Bess was easy.

“You mean Señora Lopez?” She smiled gently. “She's a very nice, very religious lady who doesn't approve of the modern world.”

“Neither do I,” he replied. He touched her mouth. “I feel bad about the way things have gone with you and me, Bess,” he said worriedly. “I hate having so little control that I can't wait until our wedding night. I can't undo what happened, but I can prevent it from happening again until we're married.”

She linked her arms around his neck with a tiny sigh. “I feel the same way, really. But I...” She lowered her face. “I'm a little afraid. Getting married is a big step.” She looked up quickly. “I want to marry you very much. I just hope I can be what you want me to be.” As she finished, she saw the lines of stress vanish from his face.

“You will be.” He bent and kissed her warmly. “See you at breakfast.”

“Okay. Good night.” She let him out and watched him go with sad eyes. Thursday, she thought dreamily, she'd never have to watch him leave again.

He was at the apartment early the next morning, just as she'd dressed and was starting breakfast. It was as if they'd never been apart, she thought, watching him finish the last of his bacon. But there was an exquisite newness about their relationship that made her glow. Just to look at him fed her heart. What they were sharing now was precious. Holding hands, looking at each other openly, caring. She felt as if she'd found the end of the rainbow, and it was Cade. All the long, lonely years were gone and forgotten as if they'd never been. She hated sleeping because it took her away from Cade. He was her whole life so suddenly, and apparently was enjoying it as much as she was. That was what was so beautiful, so incredible, that he expressed his feelings every time he looked at her or kissed her. If it was only desire, it was a tender kind of desire that put her first. She wondered if Cade realized how possessive he'd become.

He glanced up and saw that thoughtful stare. “What are you thinking?” he asked with a smile.

It was amazing how comfortable she was with him now, she mused, remembering a time when she was strung up and shivering every time he came near. Now he was like a part of her. “I was thinking how sweet it is to have breakfast with you,” she confessed.

“I was thinking the same thing.” He searched her eyes. “I feel married to you. I have for a long time. The wedding ring, the ceremony, they're necessary and I want them. But for three years there's been no time when I wanted anyone else.”

She smiled. “I'm glad, because I felt the same way.” She touched the back of his hand lightly. “Are you better today?”

“Still stiff,” he murmured ruefully, “but with plenty to show for it, thank God.”

“I wish you'd give it up,” she said.

“I will, when the time comes. Don't nag.”

She glowered at him. “I love you.”

He grinned. “Yes, I know that. But I'm not going to throw myself under a horse's hooves to let you prove it. How about that company picnic? Still want to go?”

“Yes. I've got to fix some potato salad and ham. I'll get started. Do you want to get the Sunday paper? It'll be just outside the door.”

He got up with a sigh. “I guess your reputation's ruined by now,” he said quietly. “I should have realized what your neighbors would think when they saw us coming out of your apartment together at daylight.”

His concern for her reputation touched her. That was like him, that Old World courtesy and concern about honor. She turned, her eyes brimming with love. “I'll put a note on the door and invite the whole floor to the wedding,” she said. “It's all right. Maybe Señora Lopez is still asleep,” she added hopefully, knowing all the while that the
señora
, who had become a good friend, got up early every Sunday morning and went to Mass.

Cade hesitated at her expression. “Are you sure you want to risk having her see me again at this hour of the morning?” he asked quietly.

She smiled. “Yes, I'm sure.”

He paused, then he nodded and went outside to get the paper, where he ran headlong into the small Mexican-American woman, Señora Lopez, who lived next door. He grinned at her hugely.

“Good morning.
Buenos días
,” he tried again.

She glowered at him, looking indignant.

“I only just got here,” he persisted. “I came for breakfast yesterday and again this morning.” He glowered. “Nothing's going on.”

The elderly lady stared without saying a word.

Cade felt needles sticking in him at that wordless disapproval. “Oh, God,” he groaned. “Bess! Help!” he called.

The neighbor looked perplexed when she saw his expression and heard Bess's helpless laughter. Bess came running. “What's wrong?” she asked. “Oh, good morning,
señora
,” she flustered, turning scarlet.

“So much for your blasé attitude.” Cade told Bess with a curt nod. “Serves you right. Come here.” He pulled her close and held up her left hand to show it to the
señora.
“We're engaged. I don't have a loose moral attitude, no matter how it may look. Bess isn't a modern woman any more than I'm a modern man. I even go to church most Sundays.”

“Ah.” Señora Lopez relaxed, glad to have her dark suspicions disproved. “You are to be married,
sí
?”

“Sí,”
Cade returned with a smile. “This Thursday. On the Paseo del Rio. You're invited. And nothing's going on,” he repeated firmly.

The
señora
beamed. She hadn't really thought her sweet young neighbor was modern enough to have men staying with her in any casual way. And the
señor
, very proper and dignified when he defended Bess's reputation. She liked him. With the wedding so soon, it was understandable that the young couple would have much to discuss and would want to be together as early and as late as possible. Yes, there was love in Bess's eyes. And something dark and soft in the
señor's.
She nodded. “¡
Ay de mí,
it will be a privilege to attend such a wedding!” She clasped her hands. “
Señorita
, you have a wedding dress?”

Bess caught her breath. “No! I'll have to buy one.”

“You will not! I have just the thing. Come.”

The señora led them into her apartment. She gestured for them to wait while she went into her bedroom and came back after a minute with the most exquisite lace-trimmed white dress Bess had ever seen in her life, complete with glorious trailing mantilla.

“It was to have been my daughter's wedding gown. You remember,
señorita
, I told you about her,” she prompted Bess, who remembered the poor tormented woman crying over her daughter's death. Bess and the long-widowed
señora
would sit outside in the evenings and had come to be friends. They talked, and Señora Lopez seemed to find Bess's company comforting. Although she never imposed, she was always bringing Bess cuttings of her profuse stock of flowers or cooking sweets for her to “fatten her up.”

“But, I can't...!” Bess protested, even as her hands trailed lovingly over the gown that was obviously just her size.

“It will honor me if you will take it,” Señora Lopez said gently. “Estrella would have liked you. I am sure that she would not mind that I give it to you. It should be worn, Bessita,” she said, using the fond nickname she called Bess. “Please?
¿Por favor?
”

“All right. And thank you,” Bess said fervently. “But only if you come to the wedding.”

“Of course I will come. I must make sure that your oh-so-handsome caballero does not desert you at the altar,” she said with a smile in Cade's direction.

“It would take an army to keep me away from the altar.” Cade grinned, his eyes falling gently to meet Bess's.

Señora Lopez assessed their exchanged look and smiled, nodding to herself. Yes, this was going to be a good match.
Bonita.

Bess carefully put the dress away, loving the way Cade had looked at her when she held it up for Señora Lopez to see.

She packed up the potato salad and ham she was going to take to the company picnic, and she and Cade set off in jeans and matching chambray shirts with red bandannas at their necks, a perfect match except that Cade was wearing a Stetson and she wasn't.

The first sight they got was of the nervous Nell, sitting on a rock by herself while people all around her were talking and having a good time. Bess put her dishes on the table and uncovered them, settling back against Cade as Jordan Ryker stood up at the head of the table and called for silence.

Cade watched him, narrow-eyed, as the older man welcomed the employees, welcomed Bess back after her accident and invited the company workers to dig in and have a good time.

Afterward he came up to Bess and grinned as he shook her hand. “You look refreshed and very pretty.” He glanced at Cade and chuckled. “I hear I'm
persona non grata
in your book, Hollister,” he added bluntly. “Let me assure you that the only designs I have on Bess are work related. She's been a welcome addition to our ad agency staff. Julie thinks she's tops.”

“So do I,” Cade said quietly, pulling her close to his side. “The wedding's Thursday,” he added.

“Congratulations!” Ryker shook Cade's hand and then Bess's. “Nice to see that someone got lucky.” He sighed, trying to understand Cade's dark stare.

“Speaking of someone,” Bess said. “If you won't think I'm meddling, there's a very nice girl here who worships the ground you walk on. If she wasn't too shy to drop a handkerchief at your feet, you might find that she isn't what she appears at all.”

He frowned, and his dark eyes scanned the gathering. “Not Julie, surely?” His eyebrows arched and he smiled amusedly.

“Julie is happily married,” she pointed out. “I'm talking about Nell.”