Winter Roses Part 3

As his head began to clear, anger began to smolder in his chest. He'd lost his self-control. He'd betrayed his hunger for her. He couldn't pretend that he hadn't felt desire while he was kissing her. She'd felt his momentary weakness. His own raging desire had betrayed him, with this innocent child-woman who was only eighteen years old. Eighteen!

Anger and shame and guilt overwhelmed him. He pushed her away from him roughly, his eyes blazing as he looked down at her body in the revealing nightgown. Despite everything, he still wanted her, desperately.

"What did you expect, when you go looking for a man, in the middle of the night, dressed like that!?" He emphasized her attire with one big hand.

Shivering, her arms crossed over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She swayed, putting a hand up to her eye. She'd forgotten the headache for a few seconds while he'd been kissing her, but it came back now with a fury. She leaned back against the wall for support. Stronger than shame, than anger, was pain, stabbing into her right eye like a heated poker.

Her face was white and contorted. It began to occur to him that she was unwell. "What's the matter with you?" he asked belatedly.

"Migraine," she whispered huskily. "I was looking for aspirin."

He made a rough sound in his throat. "Aspirin, for a migraine," he scoffed. He bent suddenly, swung her up into his arms and strode back into his bedroom with her. The feel of her softness in his arms was intoxicating. She was as light as a feather. He noticed that she wasn't protesting the contact. In fact, her cheek was against his bare chest and he could hear her breathing change, despite the pain he knew she was feeling. "You'll get something stronger than aspirin to stop the pain, but not before I've checked with your doctor. Sit." He put her down on the bed and went to the dresser to pick up his cell phone.

"It's Dr. Lou Coltrain," she began.

He ignored her. He knew who her doctor was. "Lou? Sorry to bother you so late. Ivy Conley's spending the weekend with Merrie, and she's got a migraine. Can she take what you give me for it?"

There was a pause, during which he stared at Ivy, trying not to look at her the way he felt like looking. She was beautifully formed. But her age tortured him. She was too young for him. He was thirty, to her eighteen. He didn't dare touch her again. In order to keep his distance, he was going to have to hurt her. He didn't want to, but she was looking at him in a different way already. The kiss had been very much a shared pleasure until he'd turned up the heat and frightened her.

A minute later he shifted, listened, nodded. "Okay. Yes, I'll send her in to the clinic tomorrow if she isn't better by morning. Thanks."

He hung up. "She said that you can have half the dose I take," he said, pulling a prescription bottle from his top drawer and shaking out one pill. He poured water from a carafe into a crystal gla.s.s and handed her the pill and the gla.s.s. "Take it. If you're not better in the morning, you'll need to go to her clinic and be seen."

"Could you stop glaring at me?" she asked through the pain.

"You aren't the only one who's got a pain," he said bluntly. "Take it!"

She flushed, but she put the pill in her mouth and swallowed it down with two big sips of water.

He took the gla.s.s from her, helped her up from the bed and marched her back through the bathroom to her own room. He guided her down onto the bed.

"I didn't know you'd be home," she defended herself. "Merrie promised you wouldn't. I didn't expect to walk into the bathroom and run into you."

"That goes double for me. I didn't know you were on the place," he added curtly. "My sister has a convenient memory."

In other words, she hadn't told him Ivy was here. Ivy wondered if her friend knew he was due back home. It would have been a dirty trick to play, and Merrie was bigger than that. So maybe she hadn't known.

"Thank you for the pill," she said tautly.

He let out a harsh breath. "You're welcome. Go to bed."

She slid the covers back and eased under them, wincing as the movement b.u.mped the pain up another notch.

"And don't read anything romantic into what just happened," he added bluntly. "Most men are vulnerable at night, when temptation walks in the door scantily clad."

"I didn't know...!"

He held up a hand. "All right. I'll take your word for it." His eyes narrowed. "Your sister fed me a pack of lies about you. Why?"

"Why were you even talking to her about me?" she countered. "You always said you couldn't stand her, even when you were in the same cla.s.s in high school."

"She phoned me when your father died."

"Ah, yes," she said, closing her eyes. "She didn't want to take any chances that you might come down on my side of the fence during the probate of the will." She laughed coldly. "I could have told her that would never happen."

"She thought you might ask Merrie for help."

She opened her eyes. The pain was throbbing. She could see her heartbeat in her own eyes. "She would have. Not me. I can stand on my own two feet."

"Yes," he said slowly, studying her pale face. "You've done remarkably well."

That was high praise, coming from him. She looked up into his lean face and wondered how it would have felt if she hadn't pulled back. Warm color surged into her cheeks.

"Stop that," he muttered. "I won't be an object of desire to some daydreaming teenager."

His tone wasn't hostile. It was more amused than angry. Her eyebrows arched. "Are you sure?" she asked, returning the banter. "Because I have to have somebody to cut my teeth on. Just think, I could fall into bad company and become a lost sheep, and it would all be your fault, because you wouldn't let me obsess over you."

At first he thought she was being sarcastic. Then he saw the twinkle in those pretty green eyes.

"You're too young to be obsessing over a mature man. Go pick on a boy your own age."

"That's the problem," she pointed out, pushing her hand against her throbbing eye. "Boys my own age are just boys."

"All men started out that way."

"I guess so." She groaned. "Could you please hit me in the head with a hammer? Maybe it would take my mind off the pain."

"It takes pills a long time to work, doesn't it?" he asked. He moved to sit beside her on the coverlet. "Want a cold wet cloth?"

"I'd die before I'd ask you to go and get one."

He laughed shortly. But he got up, went into the bathroom and was back a minute later with a damp washcloth. He pressed it over her eyes. "Does it help?"

She held it there and sighed. "Yes. Thank you."

"I have to have heat," he replied conversationally. "I can't bear cold when my head's throbbing."

"I remember."

"Where did you get the chocolate, Ivy?" he asked after a minute.

She grimaced. He really did know too much about her. "There was a cookie this afternoon. I didn't realize it was chocolate until I'd eaten half of it. Merrie warned me."

"I can eat ten chocolate bars and they don't faze me."

"That's because chocolate isn't one of your triggers. But Merrie says you won't drink red wine."

"Wine is no subst.i.tute for a good Scotch whiskey. I gave it up years ago."

"Aged cheese probably has the same effect."

He grimaced. "It does. I love Stilton and I can't eat it."

She smiled. "A weakness! I thought you were beyond them."

"You'd be surprised," he replied, and he was looking at her with an expression he was glad she couldn't see.

The door opened suddenly and Merrie stopped, frozen, in the doorway. "Are you having a pajama party?" she asked the occupants of the room.

"Yes, but you're not invited. It's exclusive to migraine sufferers, and you don't have migraines," he added with a faint smile.

She closed the door and came in, to stand by the bed. "I was afraid of this," she told Ivy. "I should have noticed there was chocolate on the tray."

"She's the one who should have noticed," Stuart said harshly.

"Well, talk about intolerance," Ivy muttered from under the washcloth. "I'll bet n.o.body fusses at you for what you ate when you've got one of these. I'll bet you'd throw them out the window if they did."

"You're welcome to try throwing me out the window," he offered.

"Don't be silly. I'd never be able to lift you."

"Do you need some aspirin, Ivy?" Merrie asked, sending a glare at her brother.

"I've already given her something."

Merrie was outraged. "We're taught that you never give anything to another person without consulting their physician...!"

"I'm glad you know procedure, but so do I," Stuart replied. "I phoned Lou before I gave it to her." He glanced toward the clock on the bedside table. "It should be taking effect very soon."

It was. Ivy could hardly keep her eyes open. "I'm very sleepy," she murmured, amazed at the sudden easing of the pain that had been so horrific at first.

"Good. When you wake up, your head will feel normal again," Stuart told her.

"Thanks, Stuart," she said, the words slurring as the powerful medication did its job.

"You're welcome," he replied. "I know a thing or two about migraines."

"And she taught you a thing or two about seeing the doctor for medicine that actually helped them," Merrie couldn't resist saying.

He didn't reply. His eyes were on Ivy's face as she went to sleep. He lifted the washcloth and took it away. Her eyes were closed. Her breathing regulated. He was glad that the cover was up to her chin, so that he didn't have to see that perfect body again and lie awake all night remembering it.

He got up from the bed, gently so as not to awaken her, the washcloth still clutched in his hand.

"That was nice of you, to get her something to take," Merrie said as they left Ivy's room.

He shrugged. "I know how it feels."

"How did you come out in Oklahoma?" she asked.

"Everything's ready for the auction," he replied. "I still can't believe they let me down like that at the Jacobsville sales barn."

"They don't have a history of messing up the different lots of cattle they sell," she said in their defense.

"One mistake that big can be expensive," he reminded her. "In this economic climate, even we have to be careful. Losing the j.a.panese franchise hurt us."

"It hurt the Harts and the Dunns worse," she replied. "They'd invested a lot in organic beef to send over there. They were sitting in clover when the ban hit."

"But they recovered quickly, and so did we, by opening up domestic markets for our organic beef. This organic route is very profitable, and it's going to be even more profitable when people realize how much it contributes to good health."

"Our signature brand sells out quickly enough in local markets," she agreed.

"And even better in big city markets," he replied. "How's school?"

She grinned. "I'm pa.s.sing everything. In two years, I'll be working in a ward."

"You could come home and go to morning coffees and do volunteer work," he reminded her with a smile.

She shook her head, returning the smile. "I'm not cut out for an easy, cushy life. Neither are you. We come from hardworking stock."

"We do." He bent and brushed his mouth over her cheek. "Sleep tight."

"Are you home for the weekend?"

He glanced at her. "Are you wearing body armor?"

"You and Ivy could get along for two days," she pointed out.

"Only if you blindfold me and gag her."

She blinked. "Excuse me?"

"It's an in-joke," he said. "I have to fly to Denver tomorrow to give a speech at the agriculture seminar on the subject of genetically engineered grain," he added.

She grimaced. "Don't come home with a b.l.o.o.d.y nose this time, will you?"

He shrugged. "I'm only playing devil's advocate," he told her. "We can't make it too easy on people who want to combine animal cells and vegetable cells and call it progress." His pale eyes began to glitter. "One day, down the road, we'll pay for this n.o.ble meddling."

She reached up and touched his face. "Okay, go slug it out with the progressives, if you must. I'll treat Ivy to the new Imax movie about Mars."

"Mars?"

"She loves Mars," Merrie told him.

"I'd love to send her there," he replied thoughtfully. "We could strap her to a rocket..."

"Stop that. She's my best friend."

He shook his head. "The things I do for you," he protested. "Okay, I'll settle for sending her to the moon."