[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
you.”
She let her eyes drop to the massive chest under her hands, and stared unashamedly at the ripple
of muscle, the mat of hair that arrowed down to the belt at his narrow waist.
“Have you ever decided?” he asked.
“Decided what?” she asked blankly, glancing up.
He chuckled. “Whether or not you like hairy men?”
“If you want the absolute truth,” she confessed, “I’ve never been this close to a man who had his
shirt off.”
“What about that would-be fiancé?”
“He wore an undershirt,” she told him, laughing because it was funny now, “and I never even
saw him in bathing trunks. He’s as thin as a rail. I suppose he’s self-conscious, and I never even
realized it.” She studied the set of Worth’s head, his broad shoulders, with intent interest. “But I’ve
never in my life seen anyone like you, not even in magazines.”
His jaw tautened, and the control he’d regained was rapidly going again. His fingers tilted her
chin. “You’re setting matches in gasoline,” he murmured. “Watch out.”
She drew in an aching breath, her eyes going helplessly to his mouth. “Wouldn’t you like to
seduce me?” she asked. “I’m twenty-eight, you know. A dinosaur that’s outlived its time. I’ll die
someday, and I’ll never have known what it was to be a woman.”
His hands moved to her waist and pressed there so hard that she looked up. His face was rigid,
his eyes sparkling with some dark emotion.
“It would complicate things too much,” he said after a minute. “Grandmother needs you. If I let
that happen, she could lose you. I meant it, Amy, about commitment. I don’t want it. And you would.”
Swallowing down her pride and the faint hurt the words inflicted, she managed a smile. “Are
you that good in bed?” she whispered wickedly.
I’m not ready for addictions.”
His fingers caressed her waist. “I’m experienced,” he corrected. “Sex is like eating potato
chips,” he added quietly. “It’s damned hard to stop, once you start. We’d get addicted to each other.
“You’re forty,” she reminded him, her voice quiet, soft.
“So I’ll die an old maid,” he shrugged, and a corner of his mouth curved. “Amy,” he added,
serious now, “there was a woman. I won’t go into details, but I took a pretty damned hard blow. I’m
still raw about it.”
“I understand,” she said. She knew it all, but she wasn’t letting on. She stared at her hands, so
pale against the deep tan of his chest. “Your grandmother says that she’s spent her life being careful,
and now she’s going to pull out all the stops and really start living. Aren’t you going the other way?”
“Look who’s lecturing me on involvement,” he burst out laughing.
She shrugged, smiling at her own folly. “Well, yes. But, you’re a man. You can go hunting. I
can’t. I mean, I could. But it isn’t me. And I’m never going to start any fires with the male sex. I’m just
not built for an endless parade of one-night stands.
relationships. I want a best friend as well as a lover.”
I don’t really believe in purely physical
He touched her cheek. “Well, you can be my best friend anytime, country girl,” he said, and
smiled down at her. “And my lover, if you like.”
She stretched up against him with a faint sigh. “I’d like to make love with you, Worth. But you’re
right, it would complicate things.”
“All the same,” he whispered, bending to her mouth, “I like an occasional taste of you.”
He kissed her slowly, wrapping her up in his big arms like a treasure, smiling against her mouth
when she bit at him.
“Put your tongue in my mouth,” he whispered, “and I’ll show you how to French kiss.”
Tingling with the sensuality of the remark, she obeyed him. And caught fire when he taught her
the subtleties of open mouth kissing. When he finished, and lifted his head, she was flushed and
trembling all over.
“Yes,” he breathed, staring at her, “that’s how you’d look at me as I took you…”
“Worth,” she moaned, reaching up.
“No,” he said in a soft tone. He drew her against him and held her, rocked her, close and warm
until the trembling stopped, until both of them could breathe normally again.
Her eyes closed, and she felt tired, but safe and cosseted. Her cheek moved softly against his
chest, and she smiled.
“I like hairy men,” she whispered.
“I like women with big, sexy blue eyes. All too much, I’m afraid.” He moved away, tugging
affectionately at a lock of her long hair. “Come on. Show me what you want to plant. Then we’ll go
and have lunch with Grandmother.”
“Okay.”
She daydreamed about spring flowers all the way back to the house, sharing her colorful dreams
with Worth, who strolled along beside her like a benevolent giant. She adored him, she thought
dizzily, on fire with wanting him, caring for him. Instinctively, she slid her hand into his. He held it
warmly, locking their fingers together. And she thought she’d never been so happy in all her life.
What a wonderful day!
They went into the house, and just as Worth started toward the living room, Baxter came
scurrying down the hall with a white face.
“Mr. Worth,” he breathed quickly, “it’s your grandmother. Sir, I think it’s a heart attack!”
Seven
T he next few hours went by in a blur. Amelia had run into the house behind Worth, to find Mrs.
Carson in terrible pain, crying from the sheer intensity of it and holding her chest. Worth called an
ambulance and the family doctor. Mrs. Carson was breathing jerkily, she was pale, her skin icy to the
touch, and her eyes seemed sunken in her thin face. And Amelia, who’d seen enough heart attacks to
recognize the symptoms, was almost certain that her employer was in for a rough time. She sat by the
bedside, holding the icy hand, murmuring soft words, while Worth paced and paced, watching for the
emergency unit to arrive.
Finally the ambulance pulled up, flashing red lights and siren blaring. A few minutes later, it
sped away again, heading for the hospital. Worth rode in the ambulance, and Amelia drove her
battered Ford along after it. When she reached the hospital several minutes later, she found Worth in
the emergency waiting room. Several other people were sitting around with worried looks. Amelia
edged between Worth and a fat lady with a screaming baby, and took his big hand in hers. His other
hand was holding a smoking cigarette, the first time she’d seen him with one.
“Have you heard anything?” she asked softly.
“No.” He stared blankly at the wall, absently lifting the cigarette to his lips.
She leaned her head against his shoulder, drained. She’d been in life-and-death situations at the
hospital where she’d worked, of course, but the patients had always been strangers. This was
something very different. She cared about Mrs. Carson.
She glanced up at Worth’s rigid, unsmiling face and wanted to cry for him. He looked as if his
world was ending, and there was nothing she could say or do to help him. He was lost in a private
purgatory, hanging between hope and despair.
“I’m very sorry,” she said, her voice quiet. “I wish I could help.” [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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you.”
She let her eyes drop to the massive chest under her hands, and stared unashamedly at the ripple
of muscle, the mat of hair that arrowed down to the belt at his narrow waist.
“Have you ever decided?” he asked.
“Decided what?” she asked blankly, glancing up.
He chuckled. “Whether or not you like hairy men?”
“If you want the absolute truth,” she confessed, “I’ve never been this close to a man who had his
shirt off.”
“What about that would-be fiancé?”
“He wore an undershirt,” she told him, laughing because it was funny now, “and I never even
saw him in bathing trunks. He’s as thin as a rail. I suppose he’s self-conscious, and I never even
realized it.” She studied the set of Worth’s head, his broad shoulders, with intent interest. “But I’ve
never in my life seen anyone like you, not even in magazines.”
His jaw tautened, and the control he’d regained was rapidly going again. His fingers tilted her
chin. “You’re setting matches in gasoline,” he murmured. “Watch out.”
She drew in an aching breath, her eyes going helplessly to his mouth. “Wouldn’t you like to
seduce me?” she asked. “I’m twenty-eight, you know. A dinosaur that’s outlived its time. I’ll die
someday, and I’ll never have known what it was to be a woman.”
His hands moved to her waist and pressed there so hard that she looked up. His face was rigid,
his eyes sparkling with some dark emotion.
“It would complicate things too much,” he said after a minute. “Grandmother needs you. If I let
that happen, she could lose you. I meant it, Amy, about commitment. I don’t want it. And you would.”
Swallowing down her pride and the faint hurt the words inflicted, she managed a smile. “Are
you that good in bed?” she whispered wickedly.
I’m not ready for addictions.”
His fingers caressed her waist. “I’m experienced,” he corrected. “Sex is like eating potato
chips,” he added quietly. “It’s damned hard to stop, once you start. We’d get addicted to each other.
“You’re forty,” she reminded him, her voice quiet, soft.
“So I’ll die an old maid,” he shrugged, and a corner of his mouth curved. “Amy,” he added,
serious now, “there was a woman. I won’t go into details, but I took a pretty damned hard blow. I’m
still raw about it.”
“I understand,” she said. She knew it all, but she wasn’t letting on. She stared at her hands, so
pale against the deep tan of his chest. “Your grandmother says that she’s spent her life being careful,
and now she’s going to pull out all the stops and really start living. Aren’t you going the other way?”
“Look who’s lecturing me on involvement,” he burst out laughing.
She shrugged, smiling at her own folly. “Well, yes. But, you’re a man. You can go hunting. I
can’t. I mean, I could. But it isn’t me. And I’m never going to start any fires with the male sex. I’m just
not built for an endless parade of one-night stands.
relationships. I want a best friend as well as a lover.”
I don’t really believe in purely physical
He touched her cheek. “Well, you can be my best friend anytime, country girl,” he said, and
smiled down at her. “And my lover, if you like.”
She stretched up against him with a faint sigh. “I’d like to make love with you, Worth. But you’re
right, it would complicate things.”
“All the same,” he whispered, bending to her mouth, “I like an occasional taste of you.”
He kissed her slowly, wrapping her up in his big arms like a treasure, smiling against her mouth
when she bit at him.
“Put your tongue in my mouth,” he whispered, “and I’ll show you how to French kiss.”
Tingling with the sensuality of the remark, she obeyed him. And caught fire when he taught her
the subtleties of open mouth kissing. When he finished, and lifted his head, she was flushed and
trembling all over.
“Yes,” he breathed, staring at her, “that’s how you’d look at me as I took you…”
“Worth,” she moaned, reaching up.
“No,” he said in a soft tone. He drew her against him and held her, rocked her, close and warm
until the trembling stopped, until both of them could breathe normally again.
Her eyes closed, and she felt tired, but safe and cosseted. Her cheek moved softly against his
chest, and she smiled.
“I like hairy men,” she whispered.
“I like women with big, sexy blue eyes. All too much, I’m afraid.” He moved away, tugging
affectionately at a lock of her long hair. “Come on. Show me what you want to plant. Then we’ll go
and have lunch with Grandmother.”
“Okay.”
She daydreamed about spring flowers all the way back to the house, sharing her colorful dreams
with Worth, who strolled along beside her like a benevolent giant. She adored him, she thought
dizzily, on fire with wanting him, caring for him. Instinctively, she slid her hand into his. He held it
warmly, locking their fingers together. And she thought she’d never been so happy in all her life.
What a wonderful day!
They went into the house, and just as Worth started toward the living room, Baxter came
scurrying down the hall with a white face.
“Mr. Worth,” he breathed quickly, “it’s your grandmother. Sir, I think it’s a heart attack!”
Seven
T he next few hours went by in a blur. Amelia had run into the house behind Worth, to find Mrs.
Carson in terrible pain, crying from the sheer intensity of it and holding her chest. Worth called an
ambulance and the family doctor. Mrs. Carson was breathing jerkily, she was pale, her skin icy to the
touch, and her eyes seemed sunken in her thin face. And Amelia, who’d seen enough heart attacks to
recognize the symptoms, was almost certain that her employer was in for a rough time. She sat by the
bedside, holding the icy hand, murmuring soft words, while Worth paced and paced, watching for the
emergency unit to arrive.
Finally the ambulance pulled up, flashing red lights and siren blaring. A few minutes later, it
sped away again, heading for the hospital. Worth rode in the ambulance, and Amelia drove her
battered Ford along after it. When she reached the hospital several minutes later, she found Worth in
the emergency waiting room. Several other people were sitting around with worried looks. Amelia
edged between Worth and a fat lady with a screaming baby, and took his big hand in hers. His other
hand was holding a smoking cigarette, the first time she’d seen him with one.
“Have you heard anything?” she asked softly.
“No.” He stared blankly at the wall, absently lifting the cigarette to his lips.
She leaned her head against his shoulder, drained. She’d been in life-and-death situations at the
hospital where she’d worked, of course, but the patients had always been strangers. This was
something very different. She cared about Mrs. Carson.
She glanced up at Worth’s rigid, unsmiling face and wanted to cry for him. He looked as if his
world was ending, and there was nothing she could say or do to help him. He was lost in a private
purgatory, hanging between hope and despair.
“I’m very sorry,” she said, her voice quiet. “I wish I could help.” [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]