After the Music (12 page)

"Memories," she managed to get out.

His eyes opened, dark and very soft. He reached down and picked her up in his arms, holding her while he searched her hungry eyes. "Memories," he said gently, in a tone he'd never used with her before. "Yes, I can give you those. In another time, another place-I could have given you a child as well."

She trembled, her eyes filling with tears, and he buried his face against her throat as he carried her deeper into the woods.

"I want you," she told him, whispering it, her voice torn with hunger and pain.

"Me, and not Al?" he asked.

She drew in a breath and looked up into his eyes, wanting only to explain, to tell him everything. But she didn't dare.

His face hardened, even as his eyes blazed with open desire. He laid her down under a big oak tree, on a pallet of leaves, and slid alongside her. "I'm richer than Al is," he said under his breath. "If money is the big draw, why not set your sights on me, tulip?"

"It isn't money," she said hesitantly.

"Well, it damned sure isn't love," he shot at her. His eyes kindled as they wandered the length of her body and back again, hungry on her breasts, her lips, her face. "Beautiful," he whispered. "You're so beautiful you take my breath, my will, my mind. I hold you and want nothing more from life than the taste of your mouth on mine."

"We're enemies," she whispered sadly.

"If it weren't for Al, and your innocence, we'd be lovers," he said. He ran his hand slowly over her shoulder, her collarbone, holding her eyes as he slid it onto her breasts and traced the hard tips.

Her lips parted with the unexpected movement, and he bent and took the sound from them with his own. She closed her eyes and the kiss got harder, deeper, hungrier. She moaned. His breath came heavily. He moved a hand to his suede jacket, unbuttoned it, and tossed it aside. He opened his shirt and tugged it free of his trousers, and drew her hands against his hard, hair-feathered chest. His mouth became more demanding, and she felt herself getting weaker by the second, done in by her own consuming love for him, by the pleasure she'd never known before. She sighed, nuzzling her face against him while his warm, deft fingers made quick work of buttons and hooks, and suddenly smoothed over her with exquisite delicacy, petal-smooth, feather-warm.

She gave a high-pitched little cry and tried to curl up, but he eased her onto her back and smoothed the fabric completely away from her body.

The breath he took was audible as he stared down at cream and mauve contrasts, lifting gracefully with her sighs. "Oh, God," he whispered reverently, poised over her.

Her wide, gray eyes searched the hardness of his face, looking for vulnerability, but it only grew harder as he looked at her. She could feel a sudden, helpless reaction as he stared blatantly at her breasts, and it embarrassed her. She tried to cover them, but he brought her hands to his mouth, shaking his head.

"Don't be shy," he said gently. "I'm just as aroused as you are."

His eyes glittered as he suddenly moved down, shifting so that his whole body covered hers, with his elbows taking the brunt of his formidable weight. "See?" he murmured as his hips moved in a slow rotation against hers, and she felt the blatant proof of the statement. "My God, I want to take you," he said huskily. "I want to strip you and grind your body into the leaves under mine, and make you cry out when the moment comes...."

Her face felt hot. She pressed her fingertips against his hard mouth as the pictures flashing in her mind embarrassed her. "You...mustn't."

"Watch," he whispered, drawing her eyes down to his chest. He moved, shifting so the thick hair over it teased her breasts. The abrasive contact shocked her with pleasure, and her body suddenly jerked, arching helplessly against his, while her eyes told him how helpless she was to stop it.

"Your mind may want to stop, but your body can't. You want me. It must be pure instinct, because we both know you've never known the full intimacy of a man's body."

"I want to," she moaned, touching his chest helplessly. "I don't care if it hurts, I want you..."

"Sabina," he whispered. His mouth opened on hers and he gave her the full weight of his body, holding her, devouring her eager lips. She whimpered, and the sound made him shudder. Her body trembled as the warmth and strength of his burned into it, his chest pinning her soft breasts, his legs tangling in hers.

His hand edged between her breasts, his thumb stroking her, his fingers tracing her. His breath quickened, and he suddenly shifted, his mouth moving from hers down to one creamy breast.

She cried out, arching, her body shuddering with unbelievable pleasure, and her glazed eyes met his as he lifted his head. His hand stroked her, warm and confident and soothing.

"This is what passion is all about," he said softly, holding her gaze. "Total, absolute loss of control. Sensual oblivion. A few minutes of this and you'd kill to have me end the torment."

Her eyes stared up into his, through a fog of hunger and need and love.

He sat up, holding her down by the waist, studying the visible tremor of her body. He was none too calm himself, but he fought for self-control. He sighed heavily then, smiling ruefully at the expression on her face.

His lean hands shook her gently. "Virgins are hell on the nervous system," he murmured.

Her mind was only beginning to focus. "I would have begged you," she said numbly.

"Yes. But even then I wouldn't have gone any further." He drew the front of her bra together and fastened it, then her blouse, with slow, steady hands. "A casual relationship isn't for you. I don't think it ever would be, despite the offer."

"Thank you," she whispered.

He studied her quietly. "Now tell me you're not really marrying Al."

Was that why he'd made love to her? she wondered miserably. To make her break the engagement? Her eyes closed. "I still am."

He glared down at her with pure hatred. "You have until tomorrow night to give him back the ring. If you don't..."

She fumbled for words. "I'm sorry," she said. "I can't."

He got to his feet angrily, buttoning his shirt and snatching up his jacket and hat while she sat and watched him curiously.

"My God, you're something," he said. It was no compliment. He glared at her openly. "I've never known a woman to be so damned mercenary!"

That hurt, but she didn't let him see how much. "And you're as unprincipled yourself, oil baron," she shouted back. "You made love to me just to make me break the engagement, didn't you?

His face went rock hard. "Sure," he said coldly. "I'm ruthless, remember? I thought you might be persuaded to settle for me."

"For how long?" she asked with a bitter laugh. "A few weeks, until you sated yourself?"

"That would depend on how much you wanted," he said with deliberate cruelty, as if he knew! "Most women will sell themselves for the right price or the right reason."

Her face paled, and she could have sworn there were traces of regret in his expression. She turned away. "Thanks for the lessons."

"You're an apt pupil. But school's out now."

"Just as well," she said. "The tuition is too high."

"You're paying for experience," he said tauntingly.

Her head jerked around, her eyes revealing hatred for all the other women he'd had before her. "Did you pay them?" she asked.

His eyes narrowed. "Sure. A diamond here, a mink there. Trinkets."

Trinkets. The price of survival. Her eyes grew wild, her face blanched as she saw her mother's face at the end of life, heard the pitiful words come torturously out of that frail throat.

"Oh, damn you!" Sabina cried, hating him for being that kind of man, hating him for what others had done to her mother, for what they had made of her. "Damn you, damn you...!" She sobbed.

"Sabina, wait!" There was an odd hesitation in his deep voice when she turned and began to run. But she didn't stop. Instead she let the wind cut into her face, let the tears cloud her vision as she ran on, lost in her own hell of memories.

Chapter Six

After she washed her tear-stained face and calmed down, Sabina changed into a soft, clinging brown-and-cream dress that suited her dark hair and eyes. Gathering her courage, she smoothed her hair and went back downstairs. She'd purposefully taken her time, so that the Thorndon brothers and the visiting cattlemen were just coming back into the house when she reappeared. She wouldn't look straight at Thorn; she couldn't. Instead she went to Al, who immediately gathered her to his side-a movement that Thorn watched with cynical eyes and a mocking smile.

"Want to ride over to Houston with us?" Al asked her. "I'm going to show Mr. Bellamy the city on the way to the airport." He indicated the heavyset, smiling man nearby.

Sabina nodded.

"Take your time," Thorn told the two men, but his brooding gaze never left Sabina. "I've got a business meeting in New Orleans in an hour. I'll go alone."

Relieved, Sabina was glad of the opportunity to escape from Thorn's sensual pull, even for a little while. She went with Al and the cattleman and was delighted when the outing kept them away from the ranch until late that evening. By the time they got home, it was bedtime, and Sabina was only too glad to have avoided another confrontation. Oh, Thorn, she thought miserably, why did it have to be this way? Why couldn't they have met under different circumstances? He wanted her so much, there had to be a glimmer of feeling for her under all that ice. Perhaps he might even have loved her, if she'd had a chance to be herself with him. The one time they'd really talked, there had been a rare rapport between them. And in the woods, he'd whispered, "Another time and place, I might have given you a child...."

It reminded her of the taunt she'd made the first day at the ranch, about having babies, and Thorn's eyes had gone to her stomach with a wild kind of hunger. Her eyes closed as a soft moan rose in her throat. How could he be thinking of children with her if there was no emotion in him? A man interested in a body would certainly be thinking of ways to prevent that from happening, wouldn't he? She almost groaned aloud. If only she knew more about men. But Thorn hated what he felt for her, and made no secret of it. As far as he was concerned, she was only the gold digger his brother wanted to marry, a heartless flirt, a woman with her eye to the main chance. She sighed bitterly. None of that was true, but he'd never know. Because in two days, she'd be out of his life for good, and only the memories would remain. At least, she told herself, she had those, as bittersweet as they were.

The next day at breakfast, Thorn reminded them about the engagement party, which was being held that night. The way he said it sent chills up Sabina's spine.

"It will be formal," he told Sabina, his blue eyes challenging.

"I have a gown," she replied. "I won't disgrace you." She didn't look straight at him. She hadn't been able to since their confrontation in the woods, and she'd avoided him every minute she could-a fact of which he seemed angrily aware.

"Of course you won't," Al replied, studying his brother. "You look smug. Any particular reason?"

"I'm holding some good cards," the older man replied with a narrow glance in Sabina's direction. "What are the two of you planning to do today?"

"We're going down to New Orleans to get me a new dinner jacket," Al said smoothly. "My old one is getting a bit tight."

"Don't stay there too long," Thorn cautioned. "Wouldn't dream of it," Al promised him. They did go into New Orleans, but while they were there, they held a council of war with Jessica.

"I'm scared," the redhead confessed as they lunched in a small outdoor cafe. "What if Thorn sees through the act? We don't get married until the day after tomorrow!"

"He doesn't suspect anything," Sabina assured her, patting her hand. "Trust us. We'll handle it."

"It's just that it's so risky, even now," Jessica bit her lip, her eyes worshipping Al. "I'm afraid of Thorn."

"He does inspire those feelings," Al said with a chuckle. "But not for much longer. Once we're actually married, there isn't a thing he can do."

"And I'm taking good care of your ring," Sabina told her, grinning as she held it out. "How fortunate that we wear the same size!"

"There's no one I'd trust with it more," Jessica said warmly. "I feel that we're imposing on you, though. You're the one taking all the risks. And all the contempt. I can imagine what Thorn's put you through."

"He hasn't bothered her," Al said with blessed ignorance. But Jessica, watching the expressions that crossed her friend's face, wasn't fooled. A minute later, when Al went to the men's room, Jessica urgently leaned forward. "Don't let Thorn hurt you," she pleaded. "Not even for our sakes. I don't want you to suffer."

Sabina searched her friend's eyes. "Jess, I'm in love with him."

Jess's eyes widened. "In love?"

"What do I do now?" Sabina whispered miserably. "It's the first time, and it hurts. And he thinks I'm nothing but a gold digger." She hid her face in her hands. "Oh, Jess, if he found out the truth about me, he wouldn't even soil his feet by walking on me."

"Stop talking like that," Jessica said with genuine concern. "You're every bit as good as he is."

"No," Sabina said. "Not in his mind. For all my small bit of fame, if he knew my background he wouldn't let me through the front door, and you know it."

"Oh, Sabina, what can I say? I feel so guilty!" Jessica said, frowning.

"I'll get over it," Sabina said. "All I have to do is live through the next couple of days. I'll grit my teeth. And then I'll be on the road. Maybe then, when I'm away from him, it won't bother me so much."

"And Thorn?" Jessica said probingly. "How does he feel?"

"He wants me."

Jessica sighed. "Oh, I see."

"Here's Al back. Don't give me away, please. I couldn't bear to have him know how I feel about his brother," Sabina pleaded. "Thorn would chew me up like candy if he knew!"

"I won't say a word." Jessica smiled as Al came back. "Hi, pal," she said, leaning over to give him a peck on the cheek.