Marry in Haste... (6 page)

“Winston—”

“Think about it, Mallory. Think about us. I'll be in touch.”

Before she could make the point that he shouldn't bother, he hung up.

She didn't want to admit it, but she feared Winston Bentley IV, and if she'd thought she could end this marriage to Reed before Dawson returned, she'd been wrong.

“He's not going to give up, is he?” Reed asked.

“No.” She tried to keep her fear out of her voice, but she wasn't sure she'd managed it. “I guess we'll have to play at being married a little bit longer.”

“It doesn't feel like playing,” Reed said wryly.

The tension from last night as well as the knowledge of his fiancée still haunted her. “Look, Reed, if there's something you want to say—”

“There's something I'd like to
do,
” he returned, stepping closer to her.

The silver glints in his eyes had been there the night they'd met. She remembered his kiss, the feel of his arms around her, and she stood perfectly still so he wouldn't guess how his words excited her.

They stared at each other for a few long moments and then Reed spun away. “I'm going to change, then we can go.”

As he went into the bedroom, she sagged against the wall and realized she couldn't go on denying that she wanted to taste his kiss again, no matter why he'd married her.

Sunday afternoon and evening at the Perez house passed pleasantly…yet it was unsettling whenever Mallory's gaze met Reed's…whenever they pretended to be newlyweds as he casually draped his arm across her shoulders or around her waist. For most of the afternoon, the men watched a baseball game while the women sat in the kitchen and talked. Mallory enjoyed herself immensely just listening to the anecdotes of being part of a large family. After a light supper, she mentioned to Rosita that she needed to learn to cook. Rosita insisted she take along one of her favorite cookbooks and told Mallory if she had
any questions, she should call her. It had been an enjoyable day.

But later Sunday evening, as Mallory and Reed readied themselves for bed, the tension between them was tauter than the night before.

 

Reed rose at 5:00 a.m. Monday morning and Mallory pretended to be asleep as he dressed in the bathroom, then left the cabin. Before they'd turned in, he'd told her he'd be working at the Double Crown for the day. She sketched a little, and made tuna salad sandwiches for them for supper. That had been easy enough, and at least she didn't have to worry about burning something on the stove. The silence between them during the meal was awkward, though, and after she cleaned up the dishes, she sat on the patio in the garden and read until darkness chased her inside. She found Reed working on a laptop computer, but he turned in early, as did she. Mallory was well aware that he hadn't fallen asleep right away—she could hear the squeak of the springs in the sofa bed each time he turned.

By Tuesday afternoon, she was going stir crazy and when she saw her car pull up outside, she almost cheered. As a lanky cowboy got out and came up the walk, she opened the screen door and gave him a big smile.

“Hello, ma'am. Over at the Double Crown, they told me you'd be waiting for these.” He dangled the keys in his fingers and handed them to her.

“Thank you so much, Mr.—”

“Conroy. Matt Conroy. Reed said you were in my place when you were in Reno.”

“The Golden Spur.”

“Right.”

“I didn't expect you until tonight or tomorrow.”

He shrugged. “I have a friend in New Mexico. I stopped there a few hours to sleep, then trucked on down.”

“I'm just so glad you could drive the car here like this. I've been lost without it.”

“When Reed said he'd pay my expenses down and airfare back, I couldn't refuse. It's given me a chance to spend a few days with my family and friends.”

She didn't like the idea that Reed had taken care of all the expenses. “Are you sure I don't owe you anything?”

“Not a thing, ma'am. But I wouldn't mind using your phone to call my brother. He's going to pick me up.”

“Where do you need to go?” she asked.

“Just about five miles down the main road.”

“If you show me how to get there, I'll be glad to take you,” she said, eager to get out.

“You don't have to do that.”

“I want to. I'd like to look around a little. I haven't been away from here since I got here. Just let me get my purse and we can go.”

Mallory had been blessed with a good sense of direction. After she dropped Matt off at his brother's house, she used the map of San Antonio she had stored in her glove compartment in preparation for her visit with Dawson to explore. She almost took the road to Leather Bucket. The town with the unique name teased her curiosity. But instead she took the highway that led to San Antonio and couldn't help
but turn into a mall. She had the urge to brighten up the cabin since she was spending so much time there, and knew it wouldn't take much. She really shouldn't spend any of her nest egg, yet she somehow felt she needed to prove to Reed that she was as capable in interior design as he was in training horses. Within an hour and a half, she'd filled the back seat of her sports car with bags and parcels, tied the trunk down over a very small secretary she could take to an apartment or an office, and headed back to the Double Crown.

Pulling into the gravel drive beside the cabin, she saw Reed's truck already parked there. Surprised that he was back before she was, she grabbed two of the bags from the back seat and hurried inside.

But he met her not far from the door, his expression thunderous. “Where in the blue blazes have you been?”

She didn't like his tone or his authoritative stance. “Not that I have to answer to you for every minute of my time, but I took Matt to his brother's and then went shopping.”

“Don't you have an ounce of sense in that head of yours? Didn't you hear a word Ryan said Saturday night? He specifically warned you about going anywhere alone.”

She'd completely forgotten about the warning or the threat. Excited about having her car again, thrilled to explore an area where she'd be living, anxious to just get away for a while and get some perspective on everything, she'd forgotten about Clint Lockhart. But Reed's attitude made her feel defensive, not apologetic. “I wasn't alone. I left with Matt Conroy, and
Clint Lockhart wouldn't know me from one of the prison guards.”

“Clint Lockhart makes it his business to know everything about the Fortunes, whether he's in jail or out of it, and I'll bet the same goes for Winston Bentley. I want your promise that you won't go driving around alone again.”

Annoyed because he could possibly be right, but hating the feeling that he was treating her like a teenager who didn't know what was good for her, she started for the bedroom with the packages. “I'm not promising you anything.”

He caught her arm, his grip hard. “I'll put a bodyguard on you if I have to.”

She tried to wrench away, but he wouldn't release her. “You wouldn't dare.”

“Try me.” His blue eyes were icy, his jaw set.

“Let me go.”

“Do you really want me to let you go, Mallory?”

She could see the desire in his eyes and knew it was probably mirrored in hers. All she had to do was to stop pulling away, and he'd kiss her. All she had to do was to lean closer to him. But then she thought of his fiancée and of something her own mother had confided in her once. She'd be a fool if she let Reed Fortune kiss her again.

This time when she wrenched away, he released her, but he still looked angry.

“Think about what I said, Mallory. If you don't want someone watching you twenty-four hours a day, we'd better come to an understanding.”

Then he left the cabin, letting the screen door bang behind him. A few minutes later she heard the truck
start up and he backed off the gravel, his wheels spinning. She didn't know where he was headed or when he'd be back, but she knew he
would
be back because he was that kind of man.

Shaken by the passion as much as the anger she'd felt emanating from Reed, she brought in the rest of the packages from her car, as well as the small desk, determined to do something constructive instead of worrying about what Reed thought of her or when he'd be back.

She'd spent very little really in the broader scheme of things. The desk fit perfectly to the right of the door, with a straw weaving she'd found on a bargain table hanging above it. The Native American throw rugs she'd bought at a stand in the mall's parking lot added the first bright splashes of color in front of the sofa, under the table, and beside the bed. Two different size ceramic pots in the same shade of green as the sofa and the bolder colors of the rugs she positioned to one side of the rough-hewn mantel. She balanced them with a white pillar candle atop a black wrought-iron stand on the other side. The cabin started looking more like a home when she threw an inexpensive throw patterned with horses over the back of the sofa and laid two multicolored handwoven place mats on the table. Then she set a terra-cotta pot with dried flowers in the center of the table and plumped two throw pillows in natural shades from tan to deep brown, arranging one on either end of the sofa. She'd wanted to look for curtains but hadn't taken measurements before she'd left.

She hadn't thought before she'd left.

With a sigh she set a ceramic replica of a mare and
her foal on the coffee table. She'd done a lot with a little and was pleased. If Reed didn't like it, she'd take it all with her.

It was dark when Reed returned, and she'd turned on all the lamps so he could see the changes she'd made. But when he unlocked the door and came inside, he took one look around and didn't comment on any of them.

So that's the way he was going to be. Fine. It didn't matter to her.

She sat at the table reading a magazine about the attractions in San Antonio while he showered. But when he came into the living room in black cotton sleeping shorts and unfolded the sofa, she sneaked a peek at him. His hair was still damp from his shower and lay against the nape of his neck. His tawny chest hair whorled down the middle of his chest and slipped under the band of his shorts. His shoulders and arms were muscled, and his stomach flat. She saw a mark on his back, just above his waist. Was it the Fortune birthmark? But he turned out the lamps, and she took the hint, going into the bathroom to change into her nightgown. Then she sat on the side of the bed and switched off the light.

As she did, she knew she had to tell him something. “Reed?”

There was a pause. “Yes.”

“I'll be more careful. I won't leave the Double Crown by myself, and I'll let you know where I go.”

Just as she thought he wasn't going to answer, he did. “Then I guess I won't have to hire a twenty-four-hour bodyguard for you.”

He wasn't giving an inch. She settled herself into bed, thinking she'd given hers.

An hour later, still awake, she slipped out of bed and softly padded to the kitchen. After she turned on the small light over the counter, she opened the refrigerator door, trying not to make any noise.

But as she reached for the milk carton, Reed's deep voice carried to her. “I would have brought the desk in for you if you'd asked.” Then he added, “The cabin looks homier, Mallory. You did a good job.”

S
tanding in the archway to the bedroom, Reed watched Mallory. She was as beautiful in sleep as she was the rest of the day. After she'd come out to the kitchen last night, he'd heard her get back into bed and then sensed she had fallen asleep—unlike the past two nights.

He shouldn't have lost his temper with her yesterday, but when he'd come back and found the cabin empty, fear had gripped him so vigorously he couldn't shake it loose. She was used to the best money had to offer and the freedom to go with it. She'd lost that freedom for the time being and he sensed her restlessness with it. Or maybe it was just restlessness with him, being married to someone and not really being married.

The urge to slide into the bed beside her, brush her hair from her cheek and kiss her with some of the pent-up desire he felt was so strong that he turned away from her, folded the sofa into place and went into the bathroom.

As he dressed, he tried to ignore his thoughts about the woman sleeping in the bed outside the door. When he'd come home last night and found the cabin more like a home than a stopover point, it had unsettled him. The cabin now looked like a place where two
people could start a life! Yet he'd known decorating it had simply been a project to Mallory, to give herself something to do.

Buckling his belt, he decided to grab something at the bunkhouse for breakfast instead of disturbing Mallory by making noise in the kitchen. But when he put his hand on the doorknob to leave the cabin, a soft, sleepy voice called out to him.

“Reed?”

He steeled himself against the lure of it. “I'm leaving, Mallory.”

“Where will you be today?”

“Over at the Double Crown's training arena.”

“I'll make supper,” she called.

He had to smile. “You're sure?”

“I want to try one of the recipes Rosita gave me.”

“See you later, then.”

“Later,” she murmured as he opened the door and left. She'd probably go back to sleep until noon. He'd alert the security guards that she was home alone and ask them to be particularly watchful.

Midmorning he realized he'd been wrong about Mallory sleeping until noon when he saw her snazzy car pull up to the gravel area beside one of the corrals. She was dressed in a pair of black slacks, a white cotton blouse and natural leather shoes that tied. When she saw him, she quickly walked toward him. The swing of her hair, the ruffle of her bangs in the breeze and the graceful movement of her body made him take a deep breath.

“Is something wrong?” he asked when she reached the corral.

She smiled at him. “No, I came to work.”

His gaze took another sweep of her. “Work?”

“I know I have to get a pair of jeans and some boots, but for now this will have to do. I can't sit in the cabin and do nothing all day, Reed. Isn't there something I can do here? I love horses….”

She might love horses in theory, but working with them was another matter entirely and required know-how. “You'll get dirty,” he said succinctly.

“That doesn't matter. I can wash this, and the shoes… Well, they'll just be my work shoes.”

To hide another smile, he swiped off his Stetson and ran a hand through his hair. If she wanted work to do, he'd give her work. After today, maybe she'd go up to the house and help Rosita instead of distracting him!

“Follow me,” he ordered, setting his hat back on his head.

He led her into one of the barns, aware of her light footsteps behind him. The wranglers were exercising the mares from this barn and it was still, except for the flies and dust motes dancing in the sunlight.

Opening one of the stall doors, he nodded to the hay and the smell emanating from it. “The stalls need to be mucked out. The pitchfork is over there.” He pointed to a partition. “As well as anything else you might need—a shovel or broom. Just push the mess into a pile outside. Any questions?”

The crestfallen look on her face was priceless. She'd probably make up an excuse and find something else to do fairly quickly. Staring at him for a few moments, she didn't look away. Then without a word she went toward the partition and grabbed the
pitchfork. “You can go back to what you were doing,” she said. “I'll be fine in here.”

He'd give her fifteen minutes tops, then expect to see her headed toward her car.

A half hour later he went to the barn to check on her. Her nose wrinkled as she shoveled hay and horse droppings into a pile on the outside walkway to the barn. She must have found a rubber band somewhere and tied her hair up in a ponytail. She'd also rolled up her blouse sleeves. Smudges of dirt already marred the pristine material. He thought about teasing her, then decided that would be pushing his luck after their go-around yesterday. Still betting she'd leave before lunch, he went back to the corral and the colts, which he understood much better than Mallory.

Time got lost as he eased the young horses into halters, handled them and spoke to them gently. It was the basis of all the training he did. But when Hank, a grizzled old cowhand, called to him to ask him if he was having lunch at the bunkhouse, he remembered Mallory. After returning a colt to the pasture, he saw that her car was still there. Surprised, he went to the barn and found her inside, mucking out yet another stall.

“Lunch break,” he announced, admiring her grit in sticking to the job this long.

“I have one more stall to clean out. I think I'll do that, then get lunch back at the cabin. I'll have to get supper started.”

“What are we having?” he asked.

She tilted her head and gave him a smug smile. “It's a surprise.”

He pretty much knew what was in the freezer.
“Mallory, you don't have to go to a lot of trouble. I could just cook steaks on the grill.”

“I'm stopping at the big house to talk to Rosita and get what I need. I want to make supper, Reed. You've done so much for me already.”

He didn't expect gratitude from her, and he had to admit it wasn't particularly what he wanted, either. “All right, then. I'll see you later.” As he turned to leave the barn, she called his name.

When he stopped to face her, she said, “I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to do anything foolish. I didn't even think about Clint Lockhart and Winston. I just wanted to do something useful.”

This woman surprised him at every turn, and he wasn't sure he liked the unsettled feeling that it gave him. It was bad enough desire tangled up his thoughts. “Forget about it, Mallory. It's over.”

This time when he turned to leave, she didn't stop him. Once outside in the sunshine, he shrugged off the feeling that it
wasn't
over. Mallory wasn't the passive type, and he had a feeling that given a good reason, she'd do the same thing all over again.

It was almost six o'clock when Reed returned to the cabin after going over training schedules with Cruz and Hank for the next month. When his sister Matilda arrived, she could give them a hand, and Cruz could spend more time at his own place. Though Matilda was young, twenty-one, she was almost as good with horses as Reed was, though he'd never admitted that to her. She'd been born a tomboy and insisted that any girl who had five brothers had to be one to survive. The truth was, they were all protective of her and she hated it.

He had to admit he missed her. He missed all of them, in a different way than when he'd gone away to college. Though he'd enjoyed every minute of it, the University of Adelaide had seemed a world away from his home. Now he really
was
a world away.

He should call and tell his folks about Stephanie before they heard it from mutual friends. And then there was Mallory…

Thoughts of home quickly vanished. The hearty aroma of meat and spices wound around him as he stepped inside the adobe. Even though its thick walls kept it comfortable most of the time, the heat from the oven had infiltrated everywhere and even the ceiling fan wasn't doing much good. Mallory had changed into a tank top and shorts, but her cheeks were flushed and her bangs damp from the time she'd spent in the kitchen. Her hair was still caught up in a ponytail.

“It smells terrific,” he said.

“I hope it tastes as good.” She sounded worried. But then she went on, “I set the table outside. The oven made it really hot in here.”

“Give me ten minutes for a quick shower and I'll be right out.”

When he joined her outside, he couldn't believe his eyes, let alone his nose. If the roast beef tasted as good as it looked, he was in for a treat. The broccoli and carrots had been steamed to a perfect color and the bowl of mashed potatoes made his mouth water. “You learned how to do this in one easy lesson?” he asked, amazed.

She winked at him. “I'm a fast learner.”

He laughed. “Are you sure Rosita didn't come
down here and cook this?” But as soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew Mallory might take the remark as an insult. “I'm teasing,” he added gently.

She gave him an impish smile. “I know you are.” Then she held up her right hand. “I swear I did this on my own, and I only called Rosita twice.” They both laughed together this time as they sat at the table and started in on their plates. When Reed took the first bite, he noticed Mallory watching him. Swallowing, he remarked, “It's good, Mallory.”

“Really?” she asked, looking concerned.

“Really.”

Her hazel eyes sparkled with his compliment and he wanted to lean across and kiss her, yet he didn't want to disrupt the welcome camaraderie that had sprung up. Although the sexual tension that had vibrated between them from the moment they'd met hadn't lessened, they ate in an almost companionable silence.

When they'd finished, Mallory stood and picked up both of their plates. “I almost hate to go back inside.”

He stood, too, and suddenly had an idea he hoped would please her. “Then let's not go back in.”

“I have to do the dishes.”

“We'll let them soak in the sink. I want to take you somewhere.”

“Where?”

“You'll see,” he said mysteriously. “But you might want to grab your bathing suit and if you don't have one, you could try skinny-dipping.”

Her eyes widened and she assured him, “I have one.”

Chuckling, he took his plate from her and followed her around the side of the adobe. A few minutes later they were sitting in the truck, bumping over a gravel access road. Soon, even the gravel disappeared and they traveled on the packed earth. Slowing as stands of cedar grew thicker, he finally stopped beside a live oak. “We're here. We don't have to walk far.”

He came around to Mallory's side of the truck and opened the door for her. When he offered her his hand, her gaze met his. The electricity between them practically buzzed, but she took his hand and used it for leverage as she stepped down to the ground. They walked side by side through the range grass until they broke through a line of oaks.

When she stopped, so did he. “How lovely,” she murmured as if entering a holy place.

He felt that way about this spot. The descending sun was a fiery red ball reflected in the calm, cool water of the lake where a willow dropped its branches. Tall grass grew along the north and west borders. Sparkles of sunlight danced to the south and east as the bare earth embraced the water.

“It's spring fed,” Reed explained, “so it's cold.”

“Right now I could use a little cold,” she said with a smile.

He handed her one of the towels he'd brought, laid his on the ground and pulled off his boots and socks. When his hands went to the snap on his jeans, Mallory asked, “What are you doing?”

“I'm going swimming.”

Unfastening his fly, he let his jeans drop to the ground.

Mallory backed up, but her eyes dropped below his waist. He was wearing black briefs, not a bathing suit.

“I didn't bring a suit with me.” He shrugged.

She quickly spun around and peered at the lake.

“Mallory.” He kept his voice gentle. “You've seen me naked. I've seen you.”

“Not when I was fully conscious of what I was doing,” she retorted, glancing over her shoulder and keeping her eyes steadily on his.

Instead of being a bond, the night they'd spent together in that motel room was a barricade. “I'm going in,” he said gruffly.

Mallory watched as Reed strode into the water and dove under and swam out to the middle. Her hands were trembling and she realized her attachment to this man scared her. All he had to do was smile at her, let alone bare his chest or more, and her insides quivered with a longing she didn't recognize. She'd been brought up to be a proper lady, and she didn't understand what had happened that night in Reno…why simple rebellion had turned into marriage to a man she didn't know.

The temperature hadn't eased much and standing here watching Reed wasn't going to help her cool off. Choosing a compact clump of cedars for a changing screen, she slipped behind them and quickly removed her clothes. The little devil who'd prompted her to sit at Reed's table at the Golden Spur made her wonder,
What if he saw you like this, and you were fully conscious?

The excited tingles that danced through her body
made her grab her pink bikini bottom and slip it on quickly. When she fastened the top, she suddenly realized that this bathing suit wasn't a whole lot better than being naked around Reed. But it would have to do. Leaving her clothes, she snatched her towel and carried it to the spot where Reed had waded in.

She stepped into the water slowly. It was cold but felt delicious against her hot skin. Gradually she went in farther, then splashed water on her neck and arms. Finally she ducked under the water and swam across the lake. They both swam for a while until Mallory floated into more shallow water and stood, appreciating the beautiful sunset, the orange, purple and pink streaks shooting through what was left of the blue sky. She heard a splash of water and sensed Reed swimming up beside her. When he stood, she could feel the immense masculine power of him, as awe inspiring in some ways as the sunset.