clothes on again. "Because afterward comes shame.. .and then
guilt."
He was being tender, and she hated it. Hated
what was only pity mingled with conscience. She drew her underpants back on and
her garter belt over them. There was no self-consciousness left, at least.
Danny would like that. He didn't know she was a virgin. He'd even said that he
wouldn't want one. So all her problems were solved at once. She'd given her
virginity to the only man she'd ever love—-to pave the way for the only man who
loved her.
"Say something," he said quietly,
watching her, vaguely ashamed of his own loss of control. He hadn't meant to
let it happen. His big body still trembled softly with the force of his
fulfillment. Was it because she'd been a virgin that it had been so intense? he
wondered dazedly. He'd never felt it like that.
"I'm all right!" she said roughly.
Would the shame never stop? She knew he didn't love her, but she'd thought the
experience with him would be profound, reverent. And it had only been sex. Very
pleasurable, very nice. But without his love, it was only physical. She
wondered if she'd always remember it with the same degree of bitterness.
She pulled the chemise over her head and then
pulled on her dress. Behind her, she heard him putting his own clothes back on
and tried not to remember the beauty of his body without them.
Hard muscles covered with dark blond hair,
strength and beauty in every sinew. She'd never forget this. He would, of
course. There would be other women. Her eyes closed; she didn't want to know
about them. She was only one in a line, and that's all she would ever be. Now
she wouldn't even have the dignity of being the one that got away. And when it
was too late, she finally understood why he'd kept his distance. He'd wanted
her to keep her illusions. Now she had none left.
With her hand on the last button, she stepped
into her wide-heeled shoes and turned to face him with her chin proudly lifted.
"Thanks for the lesson," she said
quietly.
He actually winced. "No," he said
under his breath, searching her dark, wounded green eyes. "No, don't make
it into something cheap. It wasn't."
Her lower lip trembled, threatening to leave her
defenseless. She forced herself to smile. "Okay."
He moved forward, catching her arms as she tried
to get away, to run.
"Don't go," he said. "Don't let
that man make you into a plaything. He'll use you and throw you out."
She looked up, loving him with her eyes.
"So long, cowboy." She smiled faintly, sadly. "I loved
you,Turk," she whispered. She touched his hard face, feeling the muscles
harden. "I always will, until I die. I may have other men, but I'll never
give all of myself again."
"He'll hurt you!" he ground out,
hating this, hating the pain. He hadn't expected that it would hurt when she
left, that he wouldn't be able to take her in his stride and walk away.
She touched her fingers to his firm mouth.
"No. You've seen to that," she said, her voice exquisitely tender.
"No one could possibly have made it as perfect as you did. He won't hurt
me." Her eyes searched his one last time, sad and resigned. "I'll
love you until I die, Turk."
She turned and moved quickly away, so that he
wouldn't see the tears. It was good-bye. They both knew it.
Long after she'd left, Turk sat on the steps of
the barn loft, smoking a cigarette, his eyes blank and sad. After Lorene, he'd
never wanted anyone else, not permanently. He'd wanted to have Katy; he
couldn't deny that. He'd only kept his distance so long because he'd promised
Cole. But now...
His body ached. Despite the feverish fulfillment
he'd had with her, a completion he'd never known with another woman, ever, he
was hungry all over again. He remembered her small, taut breasts under his
chest, the nipples arousing him as they rubbed against his muscles...
He got up abruptly and took the cigarette
outside to grind it out under the heel of his boot. His face set into harsh
lines, he went back toward the house. He
guilt."
He was being tender, and she hated it. Hated
what was only pity mingled with conscience. She drew her underpants back on and
her garter belt over them. There was no self-consciousness left, at least.
Danny would like that. He didn't know she was a virgin. He'd even said that he
wouldn't want one. So all her problems were solved at once. She'd given her
virginity to the only man she'd ever love—-to pave the way for the only man who
loved her.
"Say something," he said quietly,
watching her, vaguely ashamed of his own loss of control. He hadn't meant to
let it happen. His big body still trembled softly with the force of his
fulfillment. Was it because she'd been a virgin that it had been so intense? he
wondered dazedly. He'd never felt it like that.
"I'm all right!" she said roughly.
Would the shame never stop? She knew he didn't love her, but she'd thought the
experience with him would be profound, reverent. And it had only been sex. Very
pleasurable, very nice. But without his love, it was only physical. She
wondered if she'd always remember it with the same degree of bitterness.
She pulled the chemise over her head and then
pulled on her dress. Behind her, she heard him putting his own clothes back on
and tried not to remember the beauty of his body without them.
Hard muscles covered with dark blond hair,
strength and beauty in every sinew. She'd never forget this. He would, of
course. There would be other women. Her eyes closed; she didn't want to know
about them. She was only one in a line, and that's all she would ever be. Now
she wouldn't even have the dignity of being the one that got away. And when it
was too late, she finally understood why he'd kept his distance. He'd wanted
her to keep her illusions. Now she had none left.
With her hand on the last button, she stepped
into her wide-heeled shoes and turned to face him with her chin proudly lifted.
"Thanks for the lesson," she said
quietly.
He actually winced. "No," he said
under his breath, searching her dark, wounded green eyes. "No, don't make
it into something cheap. It wasn't."
Her lower lip trembled, threatening to leave her
defenseless. She forced herself to smile. "Okay."
He moved forward, catching her arms as she tried
to get away, to run.
"Don't go," he said. "Don't let
that man make you into a plaything. He'll use you and throw you out."
She looked up, loving him with her eyes.
"So long, cowboy." She smiled faintly, sadly. "I loved
you,Turk," she whispered. She touched his hard face, feeling the muscles
harden. "I always will, until I die. I may have other men, but I'll never
give all of myself again."
"He'll hurt you!" he ground out,
hating this, hating the pain. He hadn't expected that it would hurt when she
left, that he wouldn't be able to take her in his stride and walk away.
She touched her fingers to his firm mouth.
"No. You've seen to that," she said, her voice exquisitely tender.
"No one could possibly have made it as perfect as you did. He won't hurt
me." Her eyes searched his one last time, sad and resigned. "I'll
love you until I die, Turk."
She turned and moved quickly away, so that he
wouldn't see the tears. It was good-bye. They both knew it.
Long after she'd left, Turk sat on the steps of
the barn loft, smoking a cigarette, his eyes blank and sad. After Lorene, he'd
never wanted anyone else, not permanently. He'd wanted to have Katy; he
couldn't deny that. He'd only kept his distance so long because he'd promised
Cole. But now...
His body ached. Despite the feverish fulfillment
he'd had with her, a completion he'd never known with another woman, ever, he
was hungry all over again. He remembered her small, taut breasts under his
chest, the nipples arousing him as they rubbed against his muscles...
He got up abruptly and took the cigarette
outside to grind it out under the heel of his boot. His face set into harsh
lines, he went back toward the house. He
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