Deep in the Heart (31 page)

She combed her fingers through his hair, loving the feel of the thick, springy strands filtering through her palms, as it glittered against the setting sun behind him, framing his obstinate expression and a go-to-hell chin.

“Are you through making fun of me?” he growled, and nuzzled the spot behind her ear that drove her wild.

“Only if you’re through playing mother hen,” Samantha said.

He shook his head and sighed. “But, Sam, if you only knew what nearly losing you did to me, you’d understand.”

“I nearly lost you, too, Johnny,” she said quietly. “But I’m here. Now, what exactly are you going to do about it? After all, I’m no longer in need of a bodyguard.”

He went still. The swing stopped swinging about the same time his heart stopped beating.

“What are you trying to tell me?” he asked, as a new terror swamped him.

She shrugged. “My boss called me today. It seems I’ve become quite the item since Desiree’s arrest. They would just
love
for me to come back, with a raise and a promotion of course.”

Oh damn! How can I compete with Hollywood?

The sick look on his face drove her on.
He’ll do something, say something, anytime now.
And then she thought,
Surely he won’t just let me leave without a fight?

“What did you tell them?” he asked, and looked over her head at the pasture beyond, staring without seeing what was in front of his face.

“Damn you, John Thomas,” she said, and doubled up her fist and hit him on the arm. “You’re going to make me do this all by myself, aren’t you?”

He looked stunned. It was the first time she’d ever called him by his adult name. He started to speak, and then found that words wouldn’t come. He could track criminals, stolen vehicles, and rustled cattle, but following the path her thoughts were taking was simply beyond his ability.

“Do what?” he asked. “You just up and told me you were leaving me. For the second time in our lives, I might add. What the hell did you expect me to do, wave a goddamned flag?”

By now he was yelling, and Samantha grunted and just caught herself from falling when he dumped her into the swing alone. He stomped off the porch, then walked across the yard, aiming for the fence on the other side of the road, needing to put space between himself and the pain.

She levered herself from the swing with a small, relieved sigh. Thank God. For a minute she thought he was ready to get rid of her.

She followed him across the yard. And when she came to the fence, she slipped between him and the railing, wrapping her arms around his waist, and forcing him to acknowledge her presence by staring until he complied by looking back.

“When are you leaving?” he asked, and swallowed a chunk of misery.

“Ummm, it can’t be before next week because I promised Amanda Pruitt, the pastor’s wife, that I’d be the cashier at the church bazaar.”

He started to push her away, unable to stand and listen to this matter-of-fact destruction of his world. But she held on to him with firm persistence and continued to ramble.

“And I already promised Monty that he could come to dinner the first Sunday of October. It’s his birthday.”

John Thomas was starting to suspect he was being had, but the fear she’d instilled was too strong to disappear without a stronger promise than what she’d given him so far.

“And there’s no way I can leave until after our children are grown and gone from home. I’m a firm believer in being with them as much as possible through their formative years.”

“Children?”

She was grinning. The look on his face was priceless.

“You’re not going to tell me after all the years I’ve known you that you don’t like babies,” Samantha said.

He shook his head. He wasn’t about to tell her anything. He was too lost in hearing her say it all for the both of them.

“Well, thank goodness,” she said. “I’d like two. It would be nice if we could have a boy and a girl, but it’s nearly impossible to predict—”

His mouth covered her lips, putting a period to the end of her sentence before she was quite ready. But who was she to argue with such a persuasive technique? Especially when he picked her up, carried her across the road, and into the house with such panache.

And when he laid her down in the middle of his bed and began taking off her clothes, she knew it was time to put an end to her teasing.

“I will love you dearly, John Thomas, for the rest of our lives. I will warm your bed, cook your food, and clean your house. I will gladly bear your children and watch you grow old and bald. But you’re going to have to say the words.”

He grinned as the last of his clothes hit the floor and he slid into bed beside her.

“Just like a woman,” he said, as his hands traced a familiar path across her body. “Can’t come right out and say what’s on her mind. Has to beat around the bush and scare the hell out of a man just to prove she can.”

Samantha sighed as his body slid over and then he slid inside.

“Samantha Jean Carlyle, will you marry me?” he whispered.

“Ahh,” she sighed, and arched her body to meet his. “Yes, Johnny, yes! But only if you promise to do something about this sudden need I have.” She swayed lightly beneath him, just enough to remind him of where he was.

“I promise,” he said, and started to move, slowly at first, and then with increasing speed until she thought her heart would burst from the pleasure.

“You swear,” she gasped, and wrapped her arms around his neck as the end neared.

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” he whispered.

And then the pleasure came, and after it came silence. Long minutes passed as peace overwhelmed them. But finally, John Thomas felt compelled to add, “I can’t compete with all that glitter you’ll be giving up,” he said.

“I had it, Johnny. It wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Besides, I don’t think I ever intended to stay in L.A.” She turned and snuggled within the strength of his embrace. “I guess I was just taking the long way home.”

Hours later, the sun slipped beyond the horizon and set a lone coyote to yipping as he started out on an early hunt. Rebel answered, marking his own territory with a long, deep bay. It was the end of another day in Cherokee County.

About the Author

With forty-two books in print, award-winning author SHARON SALA, who also writes as Dinah McCall, still has to remind herself from time to time that this isn’t a dream.

She learned to read at the age of four and has had her nose in a book ever since. Her introduction into romance came at an early age through the stories of Zane Gray, Grace Livingston Hill, and Emily Loring. Her pride in contributing to the genre is echoed by the letters of her fans.

She’s a four-time RITA finalist, winner of the Janet Dailey Award, three-time Career Achievement winner from
Romantic Times
magazine, four-time winner of the National Reader’s Choice Award, and five-time winner of the Colorado Romance Writer’s Award of Excellence, as well as numerous other industry awards.

Her books are regularly on bestseller lists, such as the
New York Times
extended list,
USA Today, Publishers Weekly,
Waldenbooks mass market, and many others.

She claims that, for her, learning to read was a matter of evolution, but learning to write and then being published was a revolution. It changed her life, her world, and her fate.

Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

Other Books by
Sharon Sala

C
HANCE
M
C
C
ALL

D
IAMOND

F
INDERS
K
EEPERS

L
UCKY

S
ECOND
C
HANCES

Q
UEEN

Copyright

This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEEP IN THE HEART
. Copyright © 1996 by Sharon Sala. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Microsoft Reader March 2007 ISBN 978-0-06-137831-7

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