Lacy (13 page)

"Yes. You, too."

She curled up under the sheet, facing him,
sighing softly as the fever burned in her unsatisfied body. She wished she
could ask him to hold her, but she'd felt the rigidity in his arms and hands
and she already knew that men could easily be aroused beyond reason. She didn't
want to do that to him. The past was going to take some forgetting, for both of
them. As he'd said, they needed time to really get to know each other. Intimacy
could come later.

She closed her eyes, drinking in the scent of
his soap, and smiled as she drifted off to sleep, secure in the delicious
comfort of his body next to hers.

Chapter Six

Jessica stretched with a sated smile on her
face, glancing lazily at the man lying on his side next to her.

"You are a surprising gentleman, Ben
Whitehall." She laughed. "A very surprising gentleman, indeed."

"I may be young, but I'm not
innocent." He grinned, pleased with himself, and with her. She was a
wildcat in bed, her appetites as hot and uninhibited as his own. He'd done
things to her and with her that he'd never done with anyone else. She was
unique in the women of his acquaintance. "Are you sure your father's
really asleep?" he asked.

"Of course. Are you trying to run me
off?" she asked.

He let his dark eyes slide down the length of
her supple young body. He felt himself stirring again, and watched her amused
gaze drop to find the evidence of it.

"I don't think I can let you out of my
sight, to tell the truth," he said dryly, looming over her.

She lifted her arms around his neck and surged
upward as his warm, hard weight settled exactly over her own eager body.
"I was hoping you might say that," she whispered into his approaching
mouth. She reached out and touched him, stroked him, her eyes as wild and
passionate as his own. "Let me show you something different..." she
whispered, and laughed delightedly as he grimaced and clenched his teeth.

He felt himself losing control. His eyes closed
as her fingers worked magic on him. And just before she arched her hips and
swallowed him up, he remembered thinking that she was much more addictive than
any alcohol he'd ever had —

MORNING WAS BREAKING
over
Chicago, leaving the city in a warm golden glow. Katy Whitehall stretched at
the window, her eyes searching southward wistfully. She wondered if Turk had
even missed her. She missed him more every minute. But she'd get over him.
Somehow, she'd get over him.

There was a knock on her door. She turned as
Danny's mother, Mrs. Bella Marlone, came in with a cup of coffee.

"Here, is good coffee, I make," the
very rounded elderly lady murmured, her hair in a bun, silvery wisps escaping
it, a beige dress neatly belted around her ample middle. She smiled at Katy,
dark eyes flashing. "So nice, that you and my Danny gonna get
married," she said warmly. "I like this, having a nice young girl
around to talk to me. You don't mind, that you and Danny live with me?"
she added, worriedly. "In Italy, you know, not the same as here. Family
molto importante.
.
.very important."

"I understand that," Katy replied.
"My family is very close."

Mrs. Marlone nodded. She sat down in a chair by
the bed, watching Katy perch on the edge of the coverlet and sip her coffee.
"Danny say the ceremony be Monday," she said out of the blue.

Katy's hand trembled, but she kept it steady.
So quickly!
But
that might be best. She wouldn't have time for second thoughts, for rushing
back to Spanish Flats. As if there were any reason to rush back. After all,
Turk didn't want her-—not for keeps. He never would.

"Monday. That will be nice," Katy
agreed warmly. "I'll take care of him," she added slowly.

"We both take care of him," Mama
Marlone said firmly. "I cook for him, clean, look after the bambinos when
they come. You have plenty of time to stay pretty for my boy."

So that was how it would be, Katy thought
wistfully. A live-in mother-in-law with a domineering personality—who lived
only to provide the best for her son. She sighed. This was going to be a
problem.

She told Danny so later, and he frowned.

"Now, look, babe," he said slowly,
pulling her into his arms, "I'm all Mama's got in this country. If you
don't like it, I'm sorry. But I can't throw her out in the street. She's made a
lot of sacrifices for me."

"I didn't mean it like that," Katy
said, trying to pacify him. She looped her arms around him with a forced smile.
"I'll help you look after her," she said, making her first peace
offering.

"That's my girl." He bent, smiling,
and kissed her. This was pleasant, she thought. Very nice, very different from
Turk's possessive, feverish kisses. She closed her eyes more tightly, trying to
forget.

Danny was trembling when he let her go, his face
flushed, his hands hot on her breasts under her loose-fitting blouse. "I
want you," he whispered roughly.

"Monday," she whispered back, smiling.

"I'll die," he groaned.

"Not likely." She laughed. Her eyes
searched his and she sobered. "Danny, does it matter to you that I'm not a
virgin?"

"Hell, no "he said honestly. "I'm
glad, if you want the truth. It will be good for us, even the first time
together. I'll treat you right, honey. Now come on downstairs. I want you to
meet a couple of my buddies."

His
buddies
looked like
dyed-in-the-wool mobsters. Grange was tall and big and dark and didn't
volunteer a single word. Sammy was short and lean and had eyes that bulged just
a little. Katy nodded as they were introduced.

Grange nodded back. Sammy grinned crookedly.

"Grange is my driver," Danny told her,
puffing on a cigar. "And Sammy here, he runs errands. Anybody does me
dirt, Sammy takes care of them. Know what I mean?"

He couldn't mean...? Of course not, she told
herself firmly. She'd read too many books. She pushed back her long hair and
grinned.

"I'll feel safe with you two around,"
she told them.

"You'll be safe," Grange said, his
voice dull and deep. "Me and Sammy won't let nothing hurt the boss's
moll."

"You bet." Sammy chuckled. He patted
his inside jacket pocket softly. "We'll protect you from hoods and such,
Miss."

The
and such
sounded ominous. She
glanced up at Danny worriedly.

"Don't go getting hysterical," he said
gently. "I make a few enemies along the way, but it ain't nothing to worry
about. Grange and Sammy can handle it."

"Well, if you're sure..."

"Sure I am!" He chuckled. "Come
on. I'm going to buy you the damndest wedding gown. Say, kid. You want your
family to come to the wedding?"

She did, but she could imagine Cole or Turk
showing up and her blood froze. "No," she said quietly. "I'd
really rather have a very quiet, private ceremony."

"Yeah. Me, too. And a quick one," he
added, with such a tormented expression that she laughed.

The word reached the ranch Monday evening that
Katy and her Chicago boyfriend were officially married.

Cole read the telegram to Marion and Lacy and
left it with them as he went out to find Turk and give him the news. He wasn't
looking forward to it. He'd noticed a change in his friend since Katy's abrupt
departure. He was disturbed by what had happened, and he wondered if he hadn't
somehow caused it all by refusing to let Turk near Katy. If Katy'd felt that
way about the ex-flyer, how had he felt about her? And now it was too late for
both of them, and Cole felt responsible.

Turk was saddling a horse when Cole found him in
the stables.

"Hello, boss." The younger man
grinned, pushing his wide-brimmed hat back on his head as he tightened the
cinch. "Looks like a nice, cool day."

Cole nodded absently. He rolled a cigarette and
lit it before he said anything else. He leaned back against a stable wall, his
dark eyes quiet and steady.

"I thought you'd rather hear this from me.
Katy's married."

Turk's eyelids flinched. Just that. Nothing
more. He turned back to the horse, jerking the cinch so that the animal shifted
restlessly and had to be calmed. "To that Chicago gangster?" came the
terse question.

"That's the boy," Cole answered. He
took a draw from the cigarette. "They're going to live with his
mother."

"What a hell of a great start for a
marriage ."Turk laughed, but the grayness of his eyes darkened as he
turned back to give the saddled animal to one of the cowboys. The man had
sprained his wrist, and Turk had to help him into the saddle, but the diehard
wouldn't stay in bed like the doctor had told him. Turk made some offhand
remark about his stubbornness, and Cole watched, not fooled by the casual
conversation. Turk was cut up inside. Cole knew it without a word being spoken.

When the cowboy left, Cole took a draw from his
cigarette and resumed the conversation. "Katy couldn't manage enough grit
to tell me herself. She sent a telegram."

"How's your mother taking it?"Turk
asked as he fixed a bridle that didn't need fixing.

"Very well. I was surprised. Lacy looks a
bit disturbed. She hadn't met the man, you know, and Katy's half her heart.
They've lived in each other's pockets for years."

Turk turned, studying the taciturn man against
the wall. "What do you think?"

"I'd like to kill the son of a bitch,"
Cole said calmly.

"Yeah. So would I."Turk moved away
from the horse, leaving him hitched to the stall, and held out his hand for the
makings.

Cole tossed them to him, watching him roll a
cigarette with remarkably steady fingers. That had been one of the pilots'
trademarks during the war, that cool nerve. Nothing ever seemed to rattle him.
It was something he had in common with Cole.

"For God's sake, say something," Cole
shot at him. "This is me, remember? I know you like a brother, so stop
pretending you don't give a damn."

Turk looked up, his gray eyes quiet and dull.
"What can I say? You're the one who told me to keep my hands off
her."

"I thought she'd be one in a line,"
Cole said matter-of-factly. "You don't have a hell of a great record with
women. You collect scalps, son."

"After I lost my wife, there didn't seem to
be much reason not to," he answered shortly. "I didn't think I had
anything to offer." "And now?"

The big shoulders shrugged. He stared down at
his worn, dusty boots. "I think about Katy all the time," he
confessed, his voice hesitant. "I took all that damned hero worship for
granted. Now I'd give anything to have her look at me that way." His eyes
closed on a wave of unexpected pain. "Oh, God, it makes me sick. I ran her
off, Cole. It's my doing. My fault. I told her I had nothing to give, that
she'd wear her heart out on me. I suppose it was the last straw for her."
He drew in a breath of smoke and let it out. "She left minutes
later." He didn't add what had happened, really happened, in that barn.
Cole was still the only friend he had. If Cole knew the truth, he didn't know
how he might react.

"I can take part of the blame," Cole
said patiently. "Maybe if I hadn't said anything to you about her..."

Turk smiled ruefully. "You were only trying
to protect her. I'm a rounder; we both know how much I love the ladies. But it
was never like that with Katy, Cole. I couldn't take her in my stride and treat
her like some cheap conquest. She was always special."

"Maybe he'll be good to her," the
taller man said hesitantly.

"Maybe ducks will win elections,"Turk
said, scoffing. He stared at the tip of his cigarette. "Hell, it makes me
sick to my stomach to think of her with that slick-talking gangster!"

"Gas up the plane," Cole said, only
half-jokingly. "We'll fly up to Chicago and strafe him."

Turk managed a smile that he didn't really feel.
He searched his friend's dark, steady eyes. "There's too much Indian in
you, sometimes. You have a taste for vengeance that may do you in one of these
days."