Denim and Lace (29 page)

“God almighty, I'm not going to marry her!” he exploded. “I'm married to you...!”

“Sure. That's why you're out dating other people,” she said. “And for your information, you're not going to be married to me much longer. The divorce will be final soon.”

“Bess, you're my wife!” he said.

She smiled at him sweetly. “Not for much longer. Do go back to your date, Cade, before she thinks you don't love her anymore.”

“I don't love her,” he began.

“Well, you sure don't love me,” she replied, and for an instant the hurt showed through. “Or want me. I guess you want the baby, but I won't stay married just to placate your conscience. You can have visitation rights, but I won't come back to Lariat. Now, do you mind? I'm trying to model clothes.”

He took a slow breath, his eyes going over her softly, warmly. “You're so beautiful like that,” he said absently. “I've missed you almost beyond bearing.”

She could have echoed that sentiment, but she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. She straightened the skirt of her next ensemble, a black-and-white concoction. “I hope you and Gretchen will be very happy together. I don't imagine she'll ever try to ravish you...”

He caught her upper arms and pulled her against him with rough tenderness. “I loved what you did to me that night,” he whispered curtly, lowering his voice so that only she could hear. “I didn't mean the things I said later. You had a hold on me that I couldn't break and you threw me off balance so bad that I felt like less than a man. I've been fighting it all this time, but you haunt me. I don't want to go back to Lariat alone.”

Her legs were wobbly, but he wasn't going to know. She glared at him. “You won't be going home alone, Cade dear,” she said. “Gretchen will be going with you.” She brought her foot down hard on his instep, and when he groaned and stepped back, she brushed past him out into the restaurant just in time for her to be called out to the promenade.

After the show was over, Bess ducked out the back with a helplessly giggling Julie, who'd seen the whole thing.

“Poor man,” she told Bess. “How could you!”

“Didn't you see why?” Bess asked, aghast. “She was hanging on his every word, damn her. Damn him, too!”

“He'll limp for a week.”

That reminded her of another time he'd limped, such a long time ago when he'd been hurt in the rodeo. Other unwanted memories came back of the times they'd been together, the long path they'd traveled to marriage and the tragic end of the relationship. He had Gretchen. Why was he here, upsetting her? His face as it had been when he discovered her condition flashed across her line of vision. Awe, delight, wonder, fierce possession—all those things had been in his dark eyes, along with a depth of feeling that shook her even in memory. She was carrying the child he wanted, and she knew he wasn't going to give it up easily. She was in for the fight of her life, but it was one she had to win. She couldn't live in the shadows of love. She couldn't live with Cade just to satisfy his guilt at his treatment of her or his hunger for the child they'd made.

She went back to her apartment in a miserable haze of emotional limbo, feeling as if she'd been beaten. Why hadn't Cade stayed away? Why had he come running to San Antonio with his kept woman the minute Robert had told him where Bess was going to be? It wasn't fair that he should haunt her.

She lay down and closed her eyes. Her hand found the mound of her belly and touched it, and she smiled at the sudden, fierce pressure of a tiny foot or hand hitting out so hard that she gasped and then teared up with delight.

“Well, hello, little one,” she whispered, smiling as she left her hand there. “How are you tonight?”

It was a form of silent communication that was the most precious thing she'd ever experienced. She closed her eyes and lay back, everything else forgotten for the moment in the magic and mystery of creation.

* * *

T
HE
NEXT
DAY
she started to work and walked into Cade in the parking lot behind the office. Her eyes opened wide, as if she didn't believe he was really there.

He was wearing a tan suit and matching boots and a Stetson. He looked very good, and she had to tear her eyes away from him.

“What do you want?” she asked icily.

“You of course,” he replied. He stuck his hands in his pockets. “But I can see that it's going to be a long, uphill battle.”

She almost smiled at the resignation in his voice. “Look, why don't you just go and play with your redheaded toy and leave me alone? I like my job, I'm happy living alone and the past is best left in the past.”

“You aren't happy,” he said. “You're as dead without me as I am without you.”

“I don't have a redhead,” she said sweetly. “But don't worry, I'm working on it. A man in my office is just about to become available, and I think he likes kids... Cade!”

He'd lifted her in his hard arms, his face cold and hard and furious as he turned and carried her back toward his pickup truck. “I'll be damned if you're going to be available to any other man,” he said curtly.

“If you can do it, so can I!” she cried, pushing angrily at his chest. “You put me down! I hate you!”

“Yes, I know. You've got more reason to hate me than anyone else alive, but that isn't going to slow me down, Bess.” He paused to open the cab of the truck, balancing her carefully on one knee. “I'm taking you back to Lariat.”

“In a pig's eye,” she promised. “Officer!” she called, raising her hand to one of the security guards who patrolled the offices where she worked. “Could you come here, please?”

“Oh, my God, you wouldn't.” Cade growled at her. “You wouldn't!”

“Like sweet hell I wouldn't,” she whispered back, with ice dripping from her tones. “Officer, this gentleman is trying to abduct me,” she informed the security guard. “Could you get him to put me down, do you think?”

“She's my wife,” Cade told the man, his cold dark eyes making emphatic threats.

“A likely story,” Bess said. “Am I wearing a wedding ring?”

She lifted her left hand, showing him how bare it was of rings. “You see,” she said smugly, ignoring the flash of pain in Cade's eyes. “He and I are divorced, almost. He has a redheaded mistress,” she added. “Of course, we're all good friends, and she knows that I'm having her lover's baby!”

“Oh, my God,” Cade groaned. “Bess!”

“You louse,” the security man told Cade. “Put that lady down or I'll make a citizen's arrest. You poor kid,” he told Bess, slipping a protective arm around her as he glared at Cade's flash of fury. “Come on, I'll get you safely inside. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, you pervert!” he added over his shoulder.

Cade watched them go, torn between ripping the guard's head off and trying to plan his next move logically. He'd done nothing but make mistakes ever since he'd married Bess. He finally knew what was wrong with him and what to do about it, but convincing Bess was the problem. She might never let him get close to her again, and that was incredibly painful. He'd driven her away for fear of being vulnerable, but he was already vulnerable. He always had been. He just hadn't realized it.

He lit a cigarette and let out a cloud of smoke and a sigh. She looked pretty when she got mad at him, he thought with pursed lips and twinkling eyes. And pregnancy suited her. Robert had told him why she thought she was barren, which was what had catapulted him to San Antonio with Gretchen, Robert's fiancée, last night. Gretchen had been camouflage, to keep Bess from watching him go to pieces. Knowing that he'd caused her to be barren had put another complexion on things. He'd already decided that he'd rather have Bess than children, if it came down to it, and that there was nothing demeaning about loving her or occasionally letting her make the first move. He had his head on straight for the first time. Now if he could just get Bess to listen to him without trying to have him arrested. He shrugged his powerful shoulders and got back into the truck. Well, he could always try again later, he told himself.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

F
OR
THE
NEXT
few days Bess didn't see anything of Cade. She knew he hadn't given up, but it was like sitting on a time bomb, waiting for his next move. She felt a little guilty about the baby, knowing how badly he wanted it, but putting herself back into his hands again seemed foolhardy until she knew where she stood. The redhead was giving her fits, even in memory.

Gussie had heard about the confrontation in the restaurant, probably from Elise. She phoned and asked some probing questions, ending with the one she'd obviously wanted to ask first.

“Darling, are you pregnant?” she ventured finally.

“Yes,” Bess confirmed it. She hesitated. “Didn't you know?” she added when there was no surprise on Gussie's part.

“Well, yes, I did,” her mother sighed. “Elise phoned me. Cade's told everybody. Elise said he's walked around in a daze ever since he came home from San Antonio, mumbling about buying baby beds and toys. Apparently he's getting a lot of odd looks from the men because he sits and daydreams while they work. Strange, isn't it?” Gussie asked. “I mean, Cade isn't the daydreaming sort.”

Bess knew that. It touched her that Cade was so engrossed in the baby. Then it irritated her that he should care when he had his redhead. He hadn't even made another attempt to patch things up with Bess.

“I have to go,” Bess said irritably. “I'm working late for a few nights. One of our clients couldn't make up his mind on the ad he wanted until we were past the deadline for broadcast media.” She sighed. “I'm putting in some hard time on the account, but the bonus will be nice. I can afford some nice things for the baby.”

“Maybe we could go shopping,” Gussie suggested. “At a reasonably priced store,” she added on a soft, self-mocking laugh. “I'm going to be a doting grandmother, in case you wondered. I'm really looking forward to it. Some of my happiest times were spent just before and after you came along. Babies are so sweet.”

“I can hardly wait,” Bess admitted with a smile. “I'd better get back to work. Come and see me.”

“Very soon,” Gussie promised and rang off, leaving Bess wondering at Cade's attitude.

That night when she got off from work, very late, after the office was empty, she set off across the dark parking lot with her heart in her throat.

This particular part of San Antonio wasn't the best place to be after dark. She wished she'd asked someone to stay with her, or that she'd had the foresight to move her car to the front of the office. Here she was, pregnant and alone, and what was she going to do if some mugger decided that she was fair game?

She looked around nervously as she heard voices, and all her nightmares seemed to converge as three teenagers in worn jeans and old jackets, who were talking loudly, came down the sidewalk.

Bess hoped that she could avoid trouble. She moved off the sidewalk and into the parking lot, her heart hammering under her beige linen dress. Surely they wouldn't bother her.

A wolf whistle came piercingly from behind her, followed by laughter and some remarks that made her face color. She quickened her pace, but behind her she heard footfalls and menacing whispers.
Oh
,
God
,
no
, she pleaded silently. Her car was still half the length of the parking lot away, and she was wearing high heels that were much too high for running.

“Don't run away,” one of the boys drawled. He sounded drunk, which he probably was. “We won't hurt you, sweet thing.”

“That's right, we just want to talk,” a second boy agreed.

Bess turned, her purse tight under her arm, and stared at them with cold hauteur. “Leave me alone,” she said quietly. “I don't want any trouble.”

“Oh, neither do we,” the taller of the three said, laughing. He moved toward her, laughing even harder when she started to back away.

Bess was gathering her courage, her throat dry, when other footsteps came from behind her, quick, angry ones.

The boys apparently weren't too drunk to realize their sudden danger, because they scattered and ran for their lives. When Bess turned and saw Cade coming toward her, she couldn't blame them. Under the streetlights he was the picture of an old-time Texas cowboy, right down to the menacing pistol in one lean hand.

“Cade!” she burst out. She ran to him, all her pride and prejudice momentarily forgotten as she pressed hungrily into his arms and stood shaking against him.

“It's all right,” he said huskily. He stuck the pistol back in his belt and held her. “You're safe, honey. Everything's all right now. They didn't hurt you, did they?”

“No, thanks to you,” she said. She shivered, even though it was summertime and hot. Cade smelled of leather and dust and cattle, but the feel of him was sweet heaven. “I was stupid. I should have asked someone to stay with me. I will next time.”

“Let's get you home. I don't imagine your admirers will be back anytime soon,” he mused, remembering with cold pleasure the fear he'd engendered. “Damned drunk kids.”

“I don't guess they'd really have hurt me,” she said, “but there were three of them and only one of me.”

“Come on.” He turned her and led her back toward where he'd left the pickup truck. His batwing chaps made leathery sounds as they walked, and she realized that he was in his working clothes.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Watching you,” he said. He glanced down at her. “I've been out here every night since you've had to work late, just in case.”

She could have cried at the protectiveness in his deep, slow voice. “That was kind of you,” she said.

“I thought it was about time I tried being kind to you, Bess,” he replied slowly. “I seem to have spent years cutting you to pieces.” He opened the cab of the pickup and put her gently inside. “Mind the door,” he said as he closed it.

He fastened her seat belt and then his before he cranked the truck and drove her back to her apartment. “I'll drive you to work in the morning,” he said. “Your car will be safe for tonight.”

“Of course.”

He got her inside and made a pot of coffee, then frowned as he poured it in the small kitchen. She changed into her gold-and-white pajamas and sat down across the table from him.

“Should you have coffee?” he asked carefully, his dark eyes steady and quiet on her face.

“It's decaffeinated,” she told him. “I don't drink a lot of it.” She shifted, uneasy with him. “Thank you for what you did tonight.”

“You're my responsibility,” he said quietly. He looked into his coffee cup. “You're carrying my child.”

She felt the pride and passion in the words and had to bite her tongue not to scream her anguish at him. Why didn't he go home to his redhead?

“How are things at Lariat?” she asked stiffly.

“Lonely.” He smiled faintly, his eyes kindling as they slid over her flushed face and down to her mouth. “I don't guess you believe that, after the things I've said and done, but it's true. I don't sleep much these days.”

She sipped her coffee, refusing to make any admissions. “I suppose your redhead sees to that,” she replied with soft venom.

He searched her eyes quietly. “Stop and think for a minute,” he said. “Despite what I said, and what you think, is it in my character?”

She blinked. “Is what in your character?”

“For me to go to some other woman while my child is growing in your body. For me to turn my back on you and sleep with someone else.”

The thought hadn't really impinged on her consciousness before. Now she had to face it. She studied him for a long moment and knew that it wasn't in his character. Cade had integrity and he had honor.

“No,” she said. “Even if you hated me, you'd have the divorce papers in hand before you'd start anything with another woman.”

He smiled gently. “Good girl. Finish your coffee. You need some sleep.”

She didn't understand him. Her lips touched the dark liquid briefly before she put the cup down. “Are you...are you going back to Lariat?” she asked.

He shook his head. He'd dropped the Stetson on the table, where it was still lying, dark and worn. “I'll sleep on the sofa. I can't leave you alone tonight, not after what happened. I'll be here if you get frightened in the night.”

She bit her lower lip. He did care for her, in his way. Perhaps if they hadn't had the past between them, their marriage might have worked. But he'd never felt that he was good enough for her, and she'd never felt that he wanted her, only an illusion of what she was.

“Thank you,” she said simply as she got slowly to her feet. “I am...a little shaky.”

“Can you dig me out a sheet?” he asked. “And a towel,” he added with a rueful smile as he glanced down at himself. “I came straight from the holding pens. I could use a shower.”

“Of course.”

Why she should blush after weeks of marriage she didn't know. But thinking about Cade's lean, fit body without clothes made her tingle all over. She got him a towel and told him she'd throw his clothes in the washer.

By the time he was through, wrapped up in her blue bath towel with his hair still damp, she had his clothes in the dryer.

He watched her spread the sheet over her sofa and put a pillow on the arm for him, her movements a little tremulous.

“Sorry,” he murmured when she glanced at him shyly, “but unless you run to size thirty-two pajamas, I'm going to have to sleep raw.”

She went red. “Oh.”

His eyebrows arched and he chuckled with soft pleasure at the color in her cheeks. “Married and pregnant, and you can still look at me like that.”

“I haven't ever felt that married,” she hedged, averting her eyes. “So it's just as well you didn't contest the divorce.”

“Oh, but I did,” he replied lazily. “I had Donald stop it two weeks ago.”

She knew she was gaping. Her eyes kindled with anger. “Well, he can just start it up again, Cade,” she said shortly. “I've had it up to here with your stop-and-go attitute toward me and marriage, with your redheaded diversion, your bad temper, your condescending outlook, and...what are you doing?” She gasped.

He'd dropped the towel. His lips were pursed, his hands on his hips as he surveyed her embarrassment. “Just getting ready for bed, honey,” he said pleasantly. “Go ahead. You were saying...?”

“I can't talk to you like that!”

“Why not?” he asked.

She bit her lower lip and forced her eyes up to his amused dark face. She swallowed. “You threw me out because you thought I couldn't get pregnant...!” she accused miserably.

“My pride kept me from admitting what a fool I'd been, Bess, but it wasn't the baby that brought me back. It was the loneliness. I'd have told you that night at the restaurant that, if it came right down to it, I'd rather have you and me together for the rest of our lives than me and some other woman and a houseful of those kids I thought I couldn't live without.” He shook his head. “Nobody else. Never. Only you, in my mind, in my heart. In my bed,” he finished quietly.

She nibbled her lower lip, watching him. “And the redhead?”

He smiled lazily. “A knockout, isn't she?” he murmured.

“Who is she?” she asked, when something in his tone got through to her.

“Gretchen. She's Robert's fiancée, didn't I tell you...oof!”

She glared at him, watching with pure delight the shock in his eyes when her fist connected with his diaphragm. “No, you didn't tell me, you conceited, overbearing, unfeeling—”

He stopped the tirade with his mouth, smiling against her soft, parted lips. He didn't touch her in any other way. He didn't have to. She hung there, her face lifted like a flower to the sun, her eyes squinting as they looked into his, her breath whispering in excited little flickers against his mouth.

“I love you,” he whispered with aching softness. His teeth tugged gently at her lower lip and parted it as he bent again. “I wouldn't have minded if there could never have been a child. I don't want to live without you.”

He said it with a stark simplicity that brought tears to her eyes. With a muffled sob she reached up to him and felt his arms gently enfold her. Her eyes closed as his mouth moved warmer, harder, against hers. Against her body she felt that sudden terrible need of his, felt him shiver with it.

She drew back a breath, searching his dark, quiet eyes. “I don't want to live without you either, Cade,” she breathed.

His hands went to the buttons on her pajama top. “Let me love you,” he whispered.

“Yes.”

He eased the fabric away, his eyes slow and possessive on her swollen body, his hands tender as they traced every soft line of it.

“I want to know what the changes mean,” he whispered huskily. “I want to know about this darkness—” his fingers touched her dusky nipples “—the swelling, the way it feels to have my baby inside you... I want to know everything.”

Her hands slid over his powerful thighs and up, watching him shudder without trying to hide the effect it had on him. “I want to know everything about you,” she whispered. “I want to touch you.”

He took her hands and guided them against his body, holding her gaze. “I could never do this before,” he said quietly. “It was a hurdle I had to get over, letting you make the first move without feeling lessened as a man. I'm sorry I hurt your feelings about that night in my study. I wanted what you did to me, but it wounded my pride to admit it. I don't mind now.” He bent and put his mouth gently on hers. “You can have me any way you want me, sweetheart,” he whispered. “This is what married love should be. We'll learn it together.”

She reached up to him, the last barriers down, the last inhibitions shattering as she realized just how far he was willing to go to make their marriage work. She smiled under his mouth and then she laughed, clinging to him as he lifted her and put her gently down on the sofa.