Rage of Passion

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Authors: Diana Palmer
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realized the things men would expect of women in bed!”
    He scowled. “What, exactly, did he want of you?”
    Maggie flushed. “I can't tell you.”
    “I think I can guess, all the same,” he said, his eyes narrowing.
    She stared at her crossed hands. Amazing how easy it was to talk to him about such intimate things. “When I froze, he accused me of being frigid. From then on, it got worse. I didn't even mind that much when he started seeing other women. It was almost a relief, except that it stung my pride. I'd planned to leave him. And then I discovered that I was pregnant.”
    “You stuck it out for a long time,” he observed.
    “My mother was still alive then,” she replied. “She'd told me what to do all my life. I was afraid to go against her. She said that divorce was an unspeakable scandal, that nobody in her family had ever been divorced. So I didn't disgrace her. After she died, it didn't seem to matter anymore. The money was gone. There were no social peers to be scandalized by what I did.”
    “You said that your daughter was afraid of him,” he reminded her.
    “Becky's easily hurt,” she said. “He terrifies her. He drinks, you see.” She sighed. “The last time he had a visiting session with her, she did something that upset him. He left some marks on her. She's been afraid of him ever since.”
    Gabe said something under his breath that embarrassed her and braked to a halt beside the airstrip tarmac. “Is he suing for sole custody?” he asked, turning to look at her.
    “Yes.”
    “We'll see your attorney while we're in San Antonio.” He opened the car door. “And if he doesn't suit me, you'll use mine.”
    “Now, wait a minute,” Maggie began as he came around to open her door.
    “You wait a minute,” he countered, helping her out. He held her just in front of him, towering over her slender height. “If that child is on my property, she's my responsibility. So are you, for that matter. And until you leave, I'll take care of both of you, whether you like it or not!”
    “You…you…Texas bulldozer!” she accused, eyes flashing as they hadn't since her childhood.
    “Go ahead, argue with me,” he responded, smiling slightly. “Make a fuss. And when I've had enough, guess how I'll deal with you?”
    She had a good idea, but she wasn't backing down. “That's—that's male chauvinism,” she sputtered.
    “I'm a man, all right,” he replied without the least bit of self-reproach. “Come on, honey. Make a fuss.”
    He looked as if he'd really enjoy that, and Maggie remembered how it had been in the backyard that day, when he'd backed her against the oak tree and taken what he'd wanted. Her face colored.
    His blue eyes sparkled with pure enjoyment. “That's exactly what I'd do, you little prude. Only this time, I'd go further than a few kisses, and it wouldn't be in anger or bad temper. I'd wear you down and lay you down, and when I got through, you'd ache for me the rest of your life.”
    “Conceited jackass,” she enunciated clearly.
    He laughed softly. “Am I? Apparently, Miss Maggie, you've forgotten how you react to me. You always did get flustered and nervous when I came too close, even at sixteen.” His pale blue eyes narrowed as they traveled down her slender body, making her tingle with the frank appraisal. “You always were a beauty, to me. Especially in a bathing suit, with that long black hair down to your waist…. Why did you cut it?” he asked unexpectedly.
    She sighed. “I thought it looked too girlish for a woman my age,” she told him, then smiled. “And it was hot in the summer.”
    “Would it shock you to know that I used to dream about wrapping it around my wrist?” Gabe asked, his voice gentle. “And pillowing you on it, while I laid you down on one of those loungers that used to sit by the pool?”
    Again Maggie colored, but she didn't look away. She seemed to blush all the time around him! “Did you really?” she asked.
    He nodded. “It got to

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