Denim And Lace. Diana PalmerЧитать онлайн книгу.
overflowed down her cheeks, soundless, all the more poignant for the lack of sound.
“Stop that,” he ground out and turned away, because he knew exactly what was going to happen if he didn’t. He was already trembling with the need to grind her body into his and kiss the breath out of her. But kissing was intoxicating and addictive. If he started that with Bess, he might not be able to stop in time. Gentlemen didn’t seduce virgins—he’d been raised to believe that, and his strict upbringing reared its head every time he looked at Bess with desire.
“I’m sorry I did that,” Bess said after a minute, wiping her eyes. “You’ve been so much kinder about all this than I expected. That’s all.”
“I don’t feel particularly kind,” he said shortly. He turned back to her. “But if you need help, all you ever have to do is call. Watch yourself when Gussie has male friends in. Lock your bedroom door if they stay overnight.”
“Mother wouldn’t...!” she exclaimed.
“Like hell your mother wouldn’t,” he said. “You’re so naive it’s unreal. You can’t see what she is.”
“Neither can you,” she stammered.
“You see what you want to,” he said wearily. “And I’m tired of arguing with you about Gussie. It gets us nowhere. Be careful that she doesn’t start shoving you at rich, eligible old men to help feather her nest.” His eyes grew darker at the thought of it, and he felt a momentary twinge of fear.
“That’s funny,” she said with a faint smile, lowering her eyes. “You don’t know how funny. Can you really see me as a femme fatale?”
“I can see you as a warm, loving woman,” he said against his will, his voice deeper and softer than she’d ever heard it. “Once you come out of that shell, men are going to want you.”
Her heart jumped. She lifted her eyes. “Even you?” she asked in a whisper, daring everything.
Careful, he told himself. Careful. He let his dark eyes wander over her face, but he didn’t smile. “Maybe,” he said noncommittally.
She laughed mirthlessly. “No, you wouldn’t want someone like me,” she said wistfully and averted her eyes from the probing look in his. “You’ll want someone who’s capable and strong, someone who can cope with ranch life and country living. I’m just a cream puff with an overbearing mother...” Tears stung her eyes.
“Honest to God, Bess, if you don’t stop that, I’m going to...” He bit down hard on his self-control. Keeping his hands off her was the hardest thing he’d ever done, and she didn’t even realize the effect she was having on him.
“Sorry,” she said. She laughed. “I’m always apologizing.”
“You don’t have much of a self-image,” he said tightly. “Time will take care of that. Losing everything was tough on you, I know, but you may find that it was the best thing that ever happened to you. Hard times shape us. They’ll shape you.”
“Make a woman of me, you mean?” she asked shyly.
He drew in a short breath. “In a sense, yes. Go to San Antonio. Find your own place in life. That independence will be good for you. You’ll marry one day, and it’s important that a woman doesn’t become only an extension of a man.”
“That doesn’t sound old-fashioned at all.”
“In some ways I’m not,” he murmured. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully on her face. “But Mother raised us in the church, even if she could never drag my father into one. The Bible looks upon some aspects of modern life as a sin.”
She nodded. “Like sleeping around.”
“Like sleeping around.” He stared down at her quietly. “I’m not a fanatic about it, but I’d like to think the woman I marry had enough respect for herself to bring her chastity to the marriage bed. It seems to me,” he mused deeply, “that this new morality is more for the man’s sake than the woman’s. The women are running all the risks, and the men are getting everything they want without the responsibilities of marriage.”
She laughed gently. “Maybe so.” She stared at the ground. “I never got to go to church, but I always thought it was so romantic to wait until I got married to be intimate with a man. Mama laughed at such an outdated notion, but my father never did. I think he approved.”
“Your father was a good man,” he replied. “I’ll miss him, too.”
She looked up at him. “You can still have the pearls, Cade,” she said softly.
He shook his head. “I’ll get by.” His eyes slid down to her mouth and stared at it until he thought his head was going to spin him to the ground. He wanted it so badly.
Bess saw that look and trembled with the need to go close to him, to offer her mouth, to experience, even if only one time in her life, the exquisite pleasure those hard, firm lips could give. She knew already that it would be everything she could want. Her lips parted as he looked at them, and the wave of hunger that swept over her almost brought her to her knees. Just one kiss, she pleaded silently. One!
He took one slow step toward her, his warmth enveloping her, the scent of him in her nostrils. She looked up, feeling his breath on her face, watching his eyes so intent on her mouth. She could see the very texture of his lips this close and she wanted them against her own.
“Please.” She heard the soft plea and hardly realized that it had come from her own lips.
His jaw tautened. “I want it just that much,” he said, biting off his words. His eyes caught hers. Tension strung between them like thunder building black on the horizon, the earth trembling as it waited for lightning to strike down against it. Bess searched Cade’s dark eyes with that same anticipation, her heart slamming against her chest. It was going to happen...!
For one long, tense second it looked as if Cade wasn’t going to be able to hold back. Then he forced himself to tear his eyes from hers, to take a step back and then another. His body protested, but for Bess’s sake and his own, he didn’t dare take the risk.
Watching him, Bess, felt her heart shaking her with its mad beat. The disappointment was almost physically painful. The way he’d been staring at her mouth had made her weak. But he’d had the strength to draw back before anything happened, because he didn’t want complications. She wished that she could knock down all those obstacles he’d talked about. Life was so short. She’d go away, and he’d forget her...
“You might write to us once in a while. Let us know how you’re doing,” he said unexpectedly.
“Would you write back?” she asked hesitantly.
He nodded. “Sure.”
Her face lit up. It wasn’t going to be the end of the world.
He slanted his hat over his brow and searched her face. “I’ve got something for you.”
Her eyes sparkled. “For me?” she asked, surprised.
“It’s not a diamond brooch, so don’t get all excited,” he muttered. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and unfastened the knotted end. Inside was a small silver ring inlaid with turquoise in the shape of a bird on its wide face.
“It’s beautiful,” she said softly.
“It has a history,” he said. He took her right hand and slid the ring slowly onto her third finger, cradling her slender hand in his. “Someday I’ll tell it to you. For now it’s something to remind you that life goes on in spite of our problems.”
“Are you sure you want me to have it?”
“I’m sure.” His thumb rubbed over it while his fingers tightened slowly around hers. “It isn’t worth much, but it’s as much a legacy as your Great-aunt Dorie’s pearls,” he smiled faintly. “So take care of it.”
“I’ll