was so he could afford to send you to St. Moritz with your friends last year. He was trying to hold his head above water, but that didnât matter to you as much as living in style, did it?â
She had been pale before, but now she was deathly white. She stared at him as if heâd slapped her, and too late he saw the shattered look in her eyes. Swiftly he rounded the table, reaching for her, but she shrank away from him, folding in on herself like a wounded animal. How ironic that she should now be struggling to repay a debt made to finance a trip she hadnât wanted! All sheâd wanted had been time alone in a quiet place, a chance to lick her wounds and finish recovering from a brutal marriage, but her father had thought resuming a life of trips and shopping with her friends would be better, and sheâd gone along with him because it had made him happy.
âI didnât even want to go,â she said numbly, and to her horror tears began welling in her eyes. She didnât want to cry; she hadnât cried in years, except once when her father died, and she especially didnât want to cry in front of Rafferty. But she was tired and off balance, disturbed by the phone call from Roger that morning, and this just seemed like the last straw. The hot tears slipped silently down her cheeks.
âGod, donât,â he muttered, wrapping his arms around her and holding her to him, her face pressed against his chest. It was like a knife in him to see those tears on her face, because in all the time heâd known her, heâd never before seen her cry. Michelle Cabot had faced life with either a laugh or a sharp retort, but never with tears. He found he preferred an acid tongue to this soundless weeping.
For just a moment she leaned against him, letting him support her with his hard strength. It was too tempting; when his arms were around her, she wanted to forget everything and shut the world out, as long as he was holding her. That kind of need frightened her, and she stiffened in his arms, then pulled free. She swiped her palms over her cheeks, wiping away the dampness, and stubbornly blinked back the remaining tears.
His voice was quiet. âI thought you knew.â
She threw him an incredulous look before turning away. What an opinion he had of her! She didnât mind his thinking she was spoiled; her father had spoiled her, but mostly because heâd enjoyed doing it so much. Evidently John not only considered her a common whore, but a stupid one to boot.
âWell, I didnât. And whether I knew or not doesnât change anything. I still owe you the money.â
âWeâll see my lawyer tomorrow and have the deed drawn up, and thatâll take care of the damned debt. Iâll be here at nine sharp, so be ready. A crew of men will be here in the morning to take care of the fencing and get the hay out to the herd.â
He wasnât going to give in on that, and he was right; it was too much for her, at least right now. She couldnât do it all simply because it was too much for one person to do. After she fattened up the beef cattle and sold them off, sheâd have some capital to work with and might be able to hire someone part-time.
âAll right. But keep a record of how much I owe you. When I get this place back on its feet, Iâll repay every penny.â Her chin was high as she turned to face him, her green eyes remote and proud. This didnât solve all her problems, but at least the cattle would be cared for. She still had to get the money to pay the bills, but that problem was hers alone.
âWhatever you say, honey,â he drawled, putting his hands on her waist.
She only had time for an indrawn breath before his mouth was on hers, as warm and hard as she remembered, his taste as heady as she remembered. His hands tightened on her waist and drew her to him; then his arms were around her, and the kiss deepened, his tongue sliding
She had been pale before, but now she was deathly white. She stared at him as if heâd slapped her, and too late he saw the shattered look in her eyes. Swiftly he rounded the table, reaching for her, but she shrank away from him, folding in on herself like a wounded animal. How ironic that she should now be struggling to repay a debt made to finance a trip she hadnât wanted! All sheâd wanted had been time alone in a quiet place, a chance to lick her wounds and finish recovering from a brutal marriage, but her father had thought resuming a life of trips and shopping with her friends would be better, and sheâd gone along with him because it had made him happy.
âI didnât even want to go,â she said numbly, and to her horror tears began welling in her eyes. She didnât want to cry; she hadnât cried in years, except once when her father died, and she especially didnât want to cry in front of Rafferty. But she was tired and off balance, disturbed by the phone call from Roger that morning, and this just seemed like the last straw. The hot tears slipped silently down her cheeks.
âGod, donât,â he muttered, wrapping his arms around her and holding her to him, her face pressed against his chest. It was like a knife in him to see those tears on her face, because in all the time heâd known her, heâd never before seen her cry. Michelle Cabot had faced life with either a laugh or a sharp retort, but never with tears. He found he preferred an acid tongue to this soundless weeping.
For just a moment she leaned against him, letting him support her with his hard strength. It was too tempting; when his arms were around her, she wanted to forget everything and shut the world out, as long as he was holding her. That kind of need frightened her, and she stiffened in his arms, then pulled free. She swiped her palms over her cheeks, wiping away the dampness, and stubbornly blinked back the remaining tears.
His voice was quiet. âI thought you knew.â
She threw him an incredulous look before turning away. What an opinion he had of her! She didnât mind his thinking she was spoiled; her father had spoiled her, but mostly because heâd enjoyed doing it so much. Evidently John not only considered her a common whore, but a stupid one to boot.
âWell, I didnât. And whether I knew or not doesnât change anything. I still owe you the money.â
âWeâll see my lawyer tomorrow and have the deed drawn up, and thatâll take care of the damned debt. Iâll be here at nine sharp, so be ready. A crew of men will be here in the morning to take care of the fencing and get the hay out to the herd.â
He wasnât going to give in on that, and he was right; it was too much for her, at least right now. She couldnât do it all simply because it was too much for one person to do. After she fattened up the beef cattle and sold them off, sheâd have some capital to work with and might be able to hire someone part-time.
âAll right. But keep a record of how much I owe you. When I get this place back on its feet, Iâll repay every penny.â Her chin was high as she turned to face him, her green eyes remote and proud. This didnât solve all her problems, but at least the cattle would be cared for. She still had to get the money to pay the bills, but that problem was hers alone.
âWhatever you say, honey,â he drawled, putting his hands on her waist.
She only had time for an indrawn breath before his mouth was on hers, as warm and hard as she remembered, his taste as heady as she remembered. His hands tightened on her waist and drew her to him; then his arms were around her, and the kiss deepened, his tongue sliding
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