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you how much I want you."
He ground her hips into the powerful, taut muscles of his own. She cried out as he freed one hand to
bring her shaking mouth down onto his, thrusting his tongue up into it in a rhythm that said more than
words.
"My room," he whispered. "Right now."
He rolled her over and handed her the blouse and sweater he had taken off her minutes before. "You'd
better put those on," he said in a taut undertone. "In case Dessie's still up."
She clutched the cool things to her, staring at him like someone coming out of a trance.
"Well?" he ground out. "My God, you felt what you've done to me. I need you, damn it!"
She swallowed, trying to find the right words. "I need you too, Egan," she said shakily. "But there's
something you'd...you'd better know first."
"What? That you aren't on the pill?" he demanded. "It's all right, I'll take care of it. I won't let you get
pregnant."
She blushed and lowered her eyes to the jerky rise
and fall of his chest. Her fingers tightened on the shirt and sweater. "I'm a virgin."
"My God, that's a good one." He laughed coldly. "Try again."
"I don't have to," she said, trying to hold on to her pride and her self-respect, both of which were
slipping. "I've told you the truth."
"Sure, I'm a virgin, too," he told her. "Now can we go to bed?"
"Go right ahead," she said with venom in her tone. "But without me! Didn't you hear what I said, damn
you, I'm a virgin!"
"At twenty-five?" he asked in a biting tone. "Writing the kind of books you write?"
"I've told you until I'm blue in the face that I don't research those love scenes—most of which are
fore-play with a hint of fulfillment!" She flushed, avoiding his eyes. "And some of that is obligatory; I
can't get historical fiction published without it. And as for men..." she added, lifting her face to glare
at him, "most of them have felt as you do, that a woman's place in the modern world is to be available
for sex and then disappear before anyone gets emotional. I can't live like that, so I don't indulge."
"Never?" he burst out.
"Never!" she returned. "Egan, didn't Ada ever tell you about my parents?"
His breathing was steadier now, but he still looked frustrated and full of venom. "That they were
old?"
She took another steadying breath of her own. "My father was a Presbyterian minister," she
whispered.
"And my mother had been a missionary. Now do you understand?"
He looked as if he'd been slapped. His eyes went over her, right down to the fingers that trembled on
her discarded top. "Why didn't you tell me?" he ground out. "My God, the things I said to you...!"
He got to his feet and grabbed up bis shirt, shouldering angrily into it. "Get out of here," he said
coldly.
She managed to get to her feet gracefully, pausing as she tried to decide between running for it and
dressing first.
"Put on your blouse, for heaven's sake!" he snapped, and turned away again to light a cigarette with
jerky motions.
She put on the blouse and pulled the sweater on over it without ever fastening a button. She couldn't
even look at him as she walked toward the door. Her fingers fumbled with the lock, and when she
pulled the door open, he still hadn't turned or said a word. She closed it quietly behind her with
trembling fingers and went upstairs as quickly as she could. When she was safely in her room, with
her own door locked, she burst into tears.
Chapter 10
It was the most agonizing night Kati remembered spending. Egan had bruised her emotions in ways
she hadn't dreamed possible. Rejecting her was enough of a blow. But couldn't he have done it
gently? She cringed, thinking of the way he'd been, the things he'd said until she confessed. Ada had
warned her. Why hadn't she listened?
Worst of all was the fact that she'd been more than ready to give in to anything he wanted of her. She'd
wanted him to know the truth because he was so hungry that she was afraid of being hurt the first time.
But her revelation had backfired. Instead of comforting her, he ordered her out of the room and turned
his back.
Well, at least she knew how he really felt now, she told herself miserably. She knew that he'd only
wanted her, and there was no feeling on his part except desire.
She couldn't remember ever hurting so much. She loved him. What she'd felt in his hard, expert
embrace was something she'd never get over. But he'd turned away as if such devastating interludes
were just run-of-the-mill. To him, they probably were. With good-time girls like Jennie.
She got up well before daylight. She packed quickly and dressed in her boots and jeans and a
burgundy sweater. She decided to go downstairs and have breakfast, and make sure Egan had left the
house before she called a cab. It was eight o'clock, and he was usually long gone by then. She didn't
know how she could face him if he was still there, not after last night. It made her color, just
remembering the things they'd done together.
Her footsteps slowed as she reached the kitchen. She pushed the door open part way and found
Dessie puttering around the stove. With a sigh of relief, she pushed it open the rest of the way and
came face to face with Egan, who was just behind it picking up his hat from the counter.
She actually jumped aside. He looked down at her with an expression she couldn't read. His eyes
were dark silver, cold, angry.
"I want to talk to you for a minute," he said curtly.
He didn't give her a chance to protest. He propelled her through the door and down the hall to the
living room. He shut the door behind them and stared hard at her.
"Before you start," she said in a painfully subdued tone, "I realize it was all my fault, and I'm sorry."
He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, his
fingers steady. "We won't talk about last night," he said. ' 'Stay the week out, finish your research. If
you run off this morning, you'll just upset Dessie and Ada."
"What do you mean, if I run off?" she countered defensively.
"Aren't your bags packed already?" he asked, lifting his head at an arrogant angle.
Damn his perception, she thought furiously, turning her eyes to the curtained windows. "Yes," she
snapped.
"Then unpack them. You came here, obviously, for a different reason than I brought you," he said with
the old, familiar mockery. "Since your work is obviously so important, by all means indulge yourself.
Just stay out of the bunkhouse after dark. We've got a couple of new men that I don't know well."
"The only people I really need to talk to are Gig and Ramey," she told him with what dignity she
could muster. "Would you mind if I asked them up to the house?"
"Don't be ridiculous," he shot back through a cloud of smoke. "I don't play the master around here; the
men are always welcome."
"I didn't mean it that way," she said. She wrapped her arms around her. "Please don't hate me, Egan." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]