Marry In Haste Part 11

"Tell me about it," Mallory prompted.

Lily got a dreamy look in her eyes. "When Ryan and I met we were so young. We fell in love. It was wonderful and terrible and everything in between. But he was rich, and I felt I was just a poor girl who didn't deserve his love...that I could never be worthy of a Fortune. His brother Cameron managed to come between us and caused us to quarrel. I did something incredibly stupid and lost Ryan forever. At least, that's what I thought."

"What happened then?" Mallory asked.

"I moved away, married someone I had dated before Ryan but didn't really love, and forged a life for myself. But I never forgot Ryan or the bond between us, or his love and his respect. I had been a widow for ten years when I saw him again, and it was as if we'd never been apart. But this time no obstacle could come between us. Not even me being accused of his wife's murder." Lily patted Mallory's knee. "When you meet your true love, Mallory, that love lasts forever. Don't ever doubt that."

Mallory had listened to everything Lily had said, but one fact stood out sharp and clear. Lily and Ryan had fallen in love and had never forgotten that love. True love, only love, forever love. Just as her mother had told her. The fact that Reed would probably never forget Stephanie sat like a lead weight on Mallory's heart.

The French doors opened and Reed stepped inside. "I thought my wife might like to dance a waltz."

He used "wife" so easily, as if it were true, but they both knew better. Sometimes she forgot why they were going on with this charade, then she remembered. Winston. Forcing a smile, she stood and crossed to Reed. "I haven't waltzed in a long time."

"I'll refresh your memory."

Remembering their dances at the Golden Spur, an antic.i.p.atory quiver went through her. As he held the door open, she preceded him outside. Many couples were dancing to the b.u.t.ton accordion's music. Reed found an empty spot and took her into his arms, but today they danced in the standard position with s.p.a.ce between them.

He gazed down at her and said, "Hank didn't mean anything by his remark."

"It's what everyone is thinking," she murmured.

"You don't know that."

"It's what I'm thinking."

Reed's blue eyes studied her. "We shouldn't have to do this much longer."

The strength of his arms around her, the set of his jaw, the lock of hair falling casually over his forehead, all made her long for something that seemed much too far from her grasp. Being close to him hurt. She didn't know why, and she had to figure it out. She couldn't do that with him holding her. With him looking at her. With him dancing with her.

Her feet stopped moving and she pulled away from him. Keeping her voice low, she said, "Winston doesn't have spies here, and I can't do this right now. There are enough people that we can mingle and talk without anyone noticing we're not together." Leaving his arms, she went to help Rosita refill platters.

Reed couldn't take his eyes off Mallory the rest of the evening. She'd been right. There were enough people here that no one noticed that they weren't standing together or talking together or pretending to be newlyweds. She was feeling trapped again, he could tell, and he wouldn't be surprised if she wanted to take off before Dawson returned.

But he wouldn't let her. Men such as Winston didn't quit. He was just biding his time until he made his next move.

Above all else, he was going to protect Mallory from Winston. But he had to admit he wanted a lot more than to simply keep her safe. Some kind of bond had formed between them, and each day it grew stronger. It was based on desire, but there was more, too. More that he didn't understand. More that had to do with his engagement to Stephanie and how he'd almost forgotten about the dream he'd once had with her. Now his dreams seemed to be filled with Mallory.

Reed was sitting with a group of men in the great room later that evening, only half listening to the conversation, when Mallory came in looking for him. She came up to him with a smile, but he knew the smile wasn't genuine. He was beginning to be able to tell a lot of things about her.

"I'm going to go back to the cabin," she told him. "If you want to stay longer, that's fine. Cruz and Savannah can give me a ride."

Standing, he said, "I'll take you back." His voice brooked no argument.

After they made their rounds of goodbyes, they drove back in silence. As they entered the cabin, the ceiling fan drew the night breeze with all its scents and sounds in through the windows.

"Cruz and Hank said it's fine with them if you want to work with the colts again tomorrow." Reed felt he had to break the tension before she went and hid in the bedroom. Conversation concerning something she cared about might do it.

"Is it fine with you, too?"

There was something in her voice, a bit of rebellion that rankled. "Mallory, I don't control your every move."

"Sometimes it seems like it. There's a fine line between being protected and being a prisoner."

The tension and frustration that had been niggling at him erupted. "You know, Mallory, you're a spoiled little rich girl who wants everything her own way. Maybe you'd better grow up and take a good look at reality when it hits you in the face. If you'd rather be back in San Francisco with Winston Bentley, you're free to go. I won't stop you."

"You know that's not what I want," she said softly, looking hurt.

"Then I guess you're just going to have to make the best of a difficult situation."

Her shoulders straightened, and he knew he'd set a match to her rebelliousness. "I do intend to make the best of it." Her chin lifted. "Tomorrow morning I'm meeting with Lily to discuss redecorating a suite of rooms. Tomorrow afternoon I'll help with the horses, and tomorrow night, I'm going to create a plan for my life. I don't need to wait until Dawson returns to consult with a real estate agent about shop s.p.a.ce, or to call a few furniture stores and find out if they need an interior decorator to help with their clients. I'm going to put my life in order, Reed. Very soon you won't have to worry about protecting me."

With that announcement, she turned and went into the bedroom, and Reed knew he wouldn't see her anymore tonight. She could be so d.a.m.n frustrating that he felt like putting his fist through the wall. Sucking in a deep breath and some controlled patience, he knew he'd be better off coming up with a plan to take the edge off of Mallory's restlessness.

A good night's sleep would help.

But as he unfolded the sofa and he could still smell the scent of her lingering perfume, he doubted whether a good night's sleep was any more likely than finding relief from the relentless desire he felt for Mallory Prescott.

Eight.

Around midnight on Sunday, Clint restlessly paged through a week-old tabloid Betsy had brought in. There was nothing in it he wanted to read, but he didn't have anything else to do with her waitressing at a twenty-four-hour diner and his thigh still burning like the fires of h.e.l.l. But his fever had broken this morning, and he was grateful for that. Maybe now he could build up his strength and get back on his feet.

He hated being an invalid, beholden to someone else. He already had Betsy under his spell. He could tell. When he smiled at her, she was by his side with a damp cloth or a gla.s.s of water or a cup of broth. But, h.e.l.l, he needed real food and new clothes and a plan. If he could get to the cash and fake ID stashed in his cabin on the Double Crown... He had to convince Betsy to stick her neck out and go get it for him.

When he heard the sputtering of her old car, he knew it wouldn't take much to convince her. All he had to do was to give her a piece of a dream.

She stepped inside, and two cats followed her. Clint guessed why. She was carrying a plastic box with something wrapped in tinfoil on top of it.

"Sorry I'm late, but I had a chance to pick up extra tips. I wasn't goin' to turn that down. How are you feelin'?"

He gave her one of his best smiles. "Better. Thanks to you. You've taken such good care of me."

Blushing, she pulled a chair up beside the sofa and sat. "I brought you roast beef and mashed potatoes. They let me eat whatever I want while I'm there, and I just told them I needed something for later. Are you feelin' up to a real meal?"

"I sure am. I gotta build up my strength."

"You're not thinking about leavin', are you?"

She looked stricken, and he knew he had a tool if he needed leverage. "Sugar, I couldn't leave you after all you've done for me. Matter of fact, I was just thinking about how I can repay you. How would you like to be able to go to the grocery store and buy anything you want?"

"Even cat food?" she asked, almost like a child.

"Cat food and candy bars and whatever else you want."

"But how?"

"I told you how I was framed...that Ryan Fortune paid someone to kill his wife so he could marry his old lover."

Betsy nodded.

"Well," he drawled. "I saw it coming. He's had three wives, and the first one was my sister Janine. He made me a hired hand while they lived high on the hog, and I knew he hated my guts. Now he's turned my whole family against me. My sister, Mary Ellen, my brother Jace. I don't have anyone because of him."

"You have me," Betsy said quietly.

Clint took her hand in his, knowing it was time to take this to the next level, knowing he had to secure her complete loyalty. He brushed his thumb across the top of her hand in a caressing gesture, and the look in her eyes told him this wasn't going to be difficult at all. "You've become important to me, sugar. You saved my life and now I want to share it with you."

Betsy's heart started beating faster than it had ever beat before. For forty-three years she had waited for a man to say those kinds of things to her. When she was a teenager, she used to sneak into the movie house. She liked the stories about men and women and love and having someone the rest of your life. But men didn't look at a woman who had no pretty clothes and had no money to buy makeup. But the way Clint looked at her...she felt special. Everyone else she had ever cared about had left her. Her parents were dead, her brother far away somewhere.

The touch of Clint's fingers, the messages in his eyes, told her maybe he wanted some of the same things she did. Yet... "What if the law catches up to you?"

"We're just going to have to make sure that doesn't happen. Not until we can leave the country."

"Leave the country?"

"I'm putting together a plan. Are you with me?"

"You mean, you'd really take me with you?"

"Betsy, you've been an angel of mercy to me." Something powerful glinted in his eyes that made her feel powerful, too. "I think you could be a lot more, if that's what you want," he finished.

She wanted somebody of her own, a man of her own, so desperately that tears came to her eyes.

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. "When I'm feeling better, I'll show you just how grateful I am. But for now, if you're willing to help me out, I can make our life a little easier."

"How can I help?"

"I need you to go to the Double Crown to the cabin where I used to live and get me something. I have cash stashed away and a few other things. Think you could do that for me?"

The idea of buying anything she wanted at a grocery store, of filling her small refrigerator, of feeding her cats, of helping this man so they could have a life together, was enough to make her say, "Just tell me what I have to do."

For two days Mallory hardly spoke to Reed at all. Monday she'd met with Lily and shown her the ideas for the guest suite. Lily had been pleased, and they'd gone shopping today-all day-and begun the redecoration process. Mallory had bought her own jeans, boots and hat, as well. But she'd been careful how much she'd spent. Maybe she had been a spoiled rich kid while she was growing up, but she wasn't one now. She'd opened a checking account at a local bank and deposited the commission Lily had given her. A few more commissions and she could look for s.p.a.ce to rent.

The tension between her and Reed since the barbecue had practically bounced off the walls. Especially when his parents had phoned last evening and insisted on giving her their good wishes. Though from the look on Reed's face during some of the conversation, they'd asked questions he was reluctant to answer. Just from their voices and their well-wishes, Mallory liked Teddy and Fiona Fortune already. They thought she'd be returning to Australia with their son. They thought she was really their daughter-in-law.

Afterward Reed had said to her, "They won't mind that I kept them in the dark when they learn your safety was involved."

But Mallory minded. She didn't like pretending to be someone she wasn't. Even more disturbing were the times she wished she and Reed weren't pretending!

As she made supper Tuesday evening, wrapping ground meat in tortillas and baking it with cheese in the oven as Rosita had instructed her to do, she heard Reed's truck pull into the drive.

When he came into the adobe and then the kitchen he remarked, "That smells good. Do I have time for a shower?"

She nodded and then said, "I called Zane this morning and got Dawson's itinerary. Then I faxed him from Ryan's office."

Reed came closer to her and she could smell leather and horses and his own scent. Steeling her senses against the pleasure of it, she went on. "I didn't want someone else telling him about our marriage. I wanted him to know what was going on before he came home."

"You told him about Bentley?"

She nodded. "As best I could in a letter. I told him no one else knows."

The nerve in Reed's jaw worked and his expression was stern. "That's quite a lot for Dawson to absorb."

"He called a little while ago and we talked. He said he'll be home on Sunday and we can hash everything out. I sensed there was something he wasn't saying- Maybe it was my imagination. Anyway, he told me I should...trust you."

"But you don't, do you?"

"I got engaged to a man who wasn't trustworthy. I can't trust my own mother to listen to me. I married you without knowing what I was doing. So I can't even trust myself! The only person I'm sure I can trust is Dawson."

In some ways she knew she could trust Reed, especially to keep her safe. But in others... She was afraid he'd steal her heart and go back to Australia.

Reed's body was incredibly close to hers. The two of them standing there generated more heat than the oven. She waited, almost hoping he'd kiss her, yet knowing the next kiss could lead her into more trouble than she was already in.

The silence grew almost throbbing in its intensity until he asked, "Do you think about our kisses in the middle of the night?" His voice rasped over her senses, making them more alert to him.

"Sometimes," she said in a tremulous voice, being honest, yet not completely honest. Sometimes in the middle of the night, her imagination took her much further than kisses.

"I think about them every night. I don't believe you've ever really been confronted by a man's physical needs, have you?"

The suppressed desire in Reed's blue eyes was something she'd never seen before, let alone known. Her throat went dry as her heart raced and she didn't think it would ever slow down again.

"How did you evade Bentley? Just say no? Tell him you had a headache?"

"Reed, don't do this-"

"Don't do what? Tell you I want you? Tell you I think you've denied your own desires and pa.s.sions all your life? Let me tell you something, Mallory. Honesty and trust go hand in hand. If you had any idea of the pictures running through my mind every night, you'd know for certain you can trust me. Because I'm sure some other man would care more about his own needs than about keeping you safe. This is no picnic for me, either."

With that, he stepped away, and left her standing alone in the kitchen, her heart pounding, her body yearning for contact with his.

After he'd showered, they ate with record speed, not talking, avoiding eye contact. She had served dinner inside tonight, knowing they weren't going to linger. As Reed took his dish to the sink, he finally spoke. "I'd like to go over to see Cruz tonight, but I don't want to leave you here alone at night."

"You could drop me off at Rosita's. I want to borrow another cookbook and return this one. That way we wouldn't have to be...together."

"That might be best," he said tersely. "When will you be ready?"

"Just give me five minutes to freshen up."

He nodded. "I'll be out by the pickup."

Throughout the evening, as before, Mallory enjoyed her time with Rosita, but she couldn't help wondering what Reed was doing at Cruz's ranch, what they were discussing...if he was still feeling the aftermath of that restrained earthquake in the kitchen tonight. He was a pa.s.sionate man and just the idea that he wanted her made her tremble. But why did he want her?

If that was all, it wasn't enough.

It was nearly ten-thirty when Reed returned to Rosita's for her. The night was silent except for the sound of the tires on the road as they drove home. But as he pulled onto the gravel, he ordered, "Wait here."