Diamond Spur (10 page)

She and Mary were getting ready to leave the house the next morning when Jason unexpectedly showed up at the back door with a basket of beans.

"Sheila sent them," he told Mary, putting them on the counter in their wicker container. "She thought the two of you might like some fresh ones, and she tucked in a bag of frozen ham hocks to cook them with."

"The darling," Mary enthused. "Thank her for us. Would you like a biscuit and some coffee?"

"I'd like that, thanks." He grinned as he glanced toward the doorway where Kate suddenly appeared, breathlessly plaiting her hair with a blue ribbon that complemented her denim skirt and blue dotted Swiss short-sleeved blouse.

"Oh!" Kate exclaimed, stopping short. Her hands froze in midair for a second and her face colored. He was in working gear, jeans and a chambray shirt carelessly unbuttoned at the throat, with a blue bandanna tied at his neck and that battered black Stetson on his head. His spurs jin
gled on boots too worn to be decent. But he looked very masculine and unbearably handsome to Kate's adoring eyes. She smiled at him unexpectedly, and he held her eyes until she had to drag them away.

"I'll get the coffee," Mary murmured, turning away to get another cup with a knowing smile.

Kate finished tying her braid and sat down at the table where biscuits sat on one platter and bacon and sausage on another. They hadn't bothered with eggs because neither of them cared for them.

"If you want an egg, I'll cook you one," Kate offered as Jason sat down beside her. "No, thanks, honey, I've had breakfast once already, about five this morning." His leg brushed hers and he smiled at her nervous reaction. "I like the ribbon."

"Thank you." She glanced into his dark eyes and shivers of sensation ran through her body. It was exciting to look at him, all of a sudden. She felt the magic like electricity as he searched her soft eyes.

"How's roundup going?" Mary asked when she came back with the coffee and broke the spell.

"Oh, not so bad," Jason told her. He took a biscuit and filled it with bacon that was crisp and browned just right. "We had one busted leg, two broken ribs, a crushed foot, and fifteen stitches in a leg. Other than that, I guess it's going fine."

Kate grimaced. "Well, at least it wasn't your fifteen stiches," she said. She creamed her coffee and offered him the faded little cream pitcher that once had boasted a patch of strawberries on one side. Now there was little more than a faded leaf and a few unrecognizable dots of red where it had been.

Jason's lean, dark hand took it from hers and didn't let go for several seconds. Kate could
hardly breathe. His touch ignited her like fire. She looked at his somber face, feeling the hunger in him like a living thing because it was echoed in her own body.

She remembered how hungrily they'd kissed two nights ago, and her eyes fell to his hard mouth with frank delight. He saw it, and his lips parted. She looked up again, catching the same need in his dark, narrowing eyes.

Neither of them moved. Life seemed to be locked in slow motion for a space of seconds while their eyes said things their mouths couldn't. Jason abruptly poured cream in his coffee and asked Mary about selling off a few head of the cattle he oversaw for her on the boundary of his own prop
erty.

"Go ahead and do what you think best, Jason," Mary said without argument. "You know I've no head for business. If we sell now, will we get enough to make the next mortgage payment?"

"With some to spare," he told her. "The market's up just temporarily. This is a good time to get rid of the culls."

"Are you selling some of yours?" Kate asked, just to show him that she wasn't too tongue-tied to talk.

"I've got a few dry cows and some open ones I'm going to sell off," he agreed.

"Pitiful," Kate murmured over her biscuit. "Getting rid of a poor little cow because she isn't expecting."

"I can't afford to keep poor little cows who aren't expecting," he returned with a faint smile. "In a cow-calf operation, calves pay the bills. If mama doesn't earn her keep, off she goes into somebody's frying pan."

"He's a cannibal," Kate told Mary with a straight face.

"He's a businessman," Mary argued.

"Same difference," Kate returned, grinning impishly at Jason.

He laughed, the sound deep and pleasant in the silence of the cheerful little kitchen. "It takes a cannibal to make money these days," he admitted. He ate his biscuit and sipped his black coffee. "Well, Gene's trying to convince me to back him in an art show. He needs up-front money for supplies. Damn, those paints are expensive!"

"I know," Kate said gently. "But he's good, Jason. He's really good."

He drained the thick white mug, one of the new ones Kate had bought, and put it down on the red-checkered oilcloth that adorned the table. "Kate, there are a lot of good artists in the world. But it takes a great one to make any money. And most of them," he added somberly, "die poor. He's got Cherry to support, and someday there'll be children. He needs to think about them, not about his own pipe dreams. Dreams won't put bread on the table, or clothe children. And I'll be damned if I'm going to support him into old age. He's going to have to start pulling his weight around the Spur."

Kate wanted to argue, but Jason looked dug-in, and she didn't want to start something else. It was Gene's problem, after all, not hers. If he wanted to live his own life, he was going to have to fight Jason himself. Kate didn't envy him that challenge, either. Jason was a formidable enemy.

"How's your arm?" Kate asked.

He flexed it, rippling the muscle under the nice fit of the fabric. "Fine," he said. "I haven't had a problem with it." He glared at her. "And I would have healed just fine without being dragged to the doctor."

"I do realize that, Jason," Kate said sincerely. "And I promise the next time Gabe begs me to look at your torn and bleeding body, I'll put a sack over my head and hold my ears shut." He pursed his lips, and his dark eyes twinkled. "Would you, really?" he asked. His voice had a new softness when he spoke, his face was more relaxed than Kate had ever seen it.

She sighed, studying him. "I guess not, since you're the only friend I've got."

' 'I'll put the dishes in the sink,'' Mary murmured, glancing delightedly from one to the other of them. As she puttered around the kitchen, Kate got to her feet. Kate hadn't expected Jason to stand up at the same time. She overbalanced and he caught her waist to steady her. Standing so close to him, her nerves were unsettled, and it showed. She had to force her breath in and out, but she couldn't stop the rustle of it through her lips. He stared at her mouth until she thought she'd go crazy if he didn't bend those few inches and take it. She swallowed, her tongue going unsteadily to her dry lips, and he made a sound under his

breath and almost pushed her away.

"I've got to get back to work," he said curtly. "I left calves scattered all over hell and gone."

"Thanks again for the beans," Mary said. She glanced at him thoughtfully. "Would you like to come over for supper and sample them?"

He lifted his eyebrows. "Who's cooking, you or Kate?"

Mary glared at him. "Why, you horrible man, and I was going to bake you a cake, too."

He tweaked Mary's chin and bent to kiss her cheek. "You're a great cook. I apologize."

"Kate's cooking, anyway," Mary muttered. She shook her head, laughing. "You horrible man," she said again and started toward the hall. "I'll get our purses, Kate, you can lock the back door after Jason."

"Yes, Mama," Kate agreed.

The silence in the room when she left it was deafening. Jason stared at her with all the barriers down. There was no teasing banter now to disguise the desire in his hard face.

He moved toward her, tucking a hand under her soft chin to lift it. "Do you want my mouth as much as I want yours?" he asked under his breath. Her lips parted. "Oh, yes...!" she moaned. He bent and roughly opened her lips with his, teasing them in a silence that vibrated with

tension. He lifted his mouth and brushed it lazily back and forth across hers, feeling the trembling start.

He bit her lower lip softly. "Do that to me."

She did, and both his lean hands came up to frame her face, to hold it steady while his dark eyes blazed into hers for an instant. "Now let's stop playing and do it for real," he whispered gruffly, and bent with fierce purpose in his mouth. Her heart was going crazy when she felt that tentative searching, but before she had time to react to it, her mother's footsteps echoed toward the kitchen door.

"Oh, damn," Kate whimpered under her breath. Jason stood erect on legs that felt weak and looked down at her with black frustration in a face like stone.

"I wanted it, too," he said quietly. "Tonight, I'll give you that kiss, Kate. I'll give it to you with interest...!" Mary walked in with Kate's purse. "About six suit you, Jason?" she asked the taciturn man who was already at the back door, with his lean hand on the doorknob.

"Six suits me fine," he said, and grinned at them.

"See you then," Kate said lightly.

Neither of them fooled Mary, who saw beneath the teasing tones to the intense tension she'd interrupted. "Don't fall off your horse," she told Jason. "Hold your breath," he returned. "My God, a man can't walk in the door around here without getting insulted." "We only insult people we like," Kate assured him. Her eyes traced his face lovingly. She was still shaking with hunger for the kiss she'd wanted so much. "Good thing I'm not on the bad side of you, then," he chuckled. He winked at them and went out, leaving Kate to lock it behind him.

"Jason's a character," Mary laughed, shaking her head.

"He's a nice man," Kate agreed without looking at her mother, and she smiled. "Shall we go?"

Nice, Mary thought as they left the house, was a word no sane woman would use when referring to Jason Donavan. She knew suddenly, and with almost tangible delight, that something was going on between Jason and Kate. Now if she could just help things along, she might not have to worry about Kate's future after all.

Kate, blissfully unaware of her mother's plotting, was thinking dreamily of the evening ahead, already tasting Jason's mouth on her own. She'd put the future out of her mind altogether. All she wanted now was as much of Jason's company as she could get, and whatever feeling mere

was in him for her. She was in love with him, and because of that, she decided, she'd give him whatever he asked of her. Even if that meant eventually getting out of his life altogether.

An
day at work Kate felt like she was on top of the world. Early in the morning one of the regional salesmen came by and made some very flattering remarks about the first of her samples, and when that praise was echoed by Mr. Rogers, she could have walked on a cloud.

But even more delicious than that was the memory of Jason's hard face above hers, his eyes glittering with the need to kiss her. The anticipation made it worse, intensified the hunger. She thought about him and her heart skyrocketed, her knees going shaky. It was so new, and things were happening so quickly that it was all a little frightening. She knew that Jason would never hurt her. Or that even if he lost his head and seduced her, he'd make everything right. He'd take such excellent care of Kate that...she frowned...that she'd never be sure that he'd married her because he wanted to or because he'd had to.

Her bubble began to burst. Jason didn't want marriage. He'd said so often enough, and his lack of involvement with women proved it. Kate could get close to him, but until the past few days, that had been a friendly closeness, not an emotional or physical one. Perhaps she was knocking him off balance, just as his fierce kisses had done to her. Perhaps he was as helpless to resist what was happening between them as she was. That disturbed her. Kate loved Jason. But she didn't want to trap him. And unless she was very careful, this physical chemistry was going to get out of hand and push them both into an unwanted situation. If that happened, she'd lose the only friend she had.

But knowing how to handle this delicate balance was just as worrying. There was no one else she could go to for advice. She could talk to her mother, but not about sex. It was the one area that Mary was too reticent to discuss, and Kate was too shy to blurt it out and ask questions. The only other person she might have talked to would have been Jason. While he might not talk about breeding at the supper table, Kate knew instinctively that he'd tell her anything she wanted to know. Nothing was taboo for them to discuss.

Kate had to leave Mary at the plant and go home first to start supper because everyone on the pants and shirt line had to stay to get out a cut that was already late for shipment.

She made spaghetti because there wasn't time to get the beans cooked. And while she worked, she thought about Jason and wondered how they were going to dodge Mary that night. Thinking about bis kisses and the way they made her body throb was such delicious pleasure that she put too much coffee in the basket and had to start all over again.

She made a green salad and defrosted sesame seed rolls to go with it all. There would still be time to change after she drove back to the plant to pick up her mother....

A hard knock on the front door stopped Kate in midth-ought. She went to answer it with her hair tied loosely in back with a ribbon, her makeup worn off, her forehead beaded with sweat. And there stood Jason.

He was immaculate in dark slacks that he wore with a white silk shirt, open necked, and a navy blue blazer. His creamy Stetson, the one that matched his horribly expensive dress boots, was sitting at a jaunty angle on his head. The look he was giving Kate could have scrambled eggs because it was so warm.

"You even look sexy when you're worn to a frazzle, cupcake," he said quietly, but he looked more solemn than teasing when he said it. There were lines of strain in his dark face. "I thought you were coming at six," she faltered, because Mama wasn't home, supper wasn't cooked, the house was empty, and she looked like a refugee from a cookoff.

"Yes, but one of the men saw you drive home alone," he returned, letting his dark eyes slide slowly down her body. "So I sent Red Barton to pick up Mary at five-thirty, and I came on over."

It was hard to breathe when he looked at her like that. "Did you?" she whispered shakily. He took off his hat and moved through the doorway, tossing the Stetson onto the sofa as Kate closed the door. He turned, his lean hands catching her gently by the arms to hold her just in front of him. "We've got to talk," he said, his jaw going taut. "Things are getting out of hand too fast."

She understood at once. His eyes were already glittering with hunger, and his face was as hard as stone with it. Her lips parted on a caught breath as she looked into his eyes and felt the world stop around them.

"Too fast?" she faltered, because there had been little more than kissing between them.

He searched her face in a silence that throbbed with sensuality. "Don't you think I can see how you react when I come near you?" His hands tightened on her arms. "What happened this morning has haunted me all day. All I've thought about since is your mouth and how badly I want it And that," he said tersely, "is the whole problem."

"And you don't want commitment," she said, almost reading the thoughts in his mind. "You're afraid of what could happen."

"That's the bottom line, honey," he said, his voice quiet and somber.

She wondered if he knew that his hard words were shattering her dreams. Kate searched his face with wide, sad eyes. "You can't trust even me, can you, Jason?"

"No," he said quietly. He drew in a slow breath. His eyes brooded as he brought her completely against his chest and pressed her cheek to him, bending his own cheek against her dark hair. He could feel the hard tips of her breasts against his chest even now. She was already aroused, and he hadn't touched her. He kept her a little away, because the touch of her was equally arousing to him, and he couldn't hide if it her legs touched his.

"I've had some hard experiences in the past," he said, his voice deep and slow in the stillness of the living room. The eyes she couldn't see were haunted. "First my mother, leaving me and Gene at the mercy of that wild-eyed alcoholic of a father. Then Melody, chasing after rainbows that meant more than I did." His hand touched her long hair, pulling at it idly. "Kate, I wanted marriage then," he said slowly, deeply. "I wanted a woman to love me and make a home for me. I wanted a baby growing in her body, and the hope of a warm, close family like I'd never had. All my life, I've felt like an outsider looking in. I tried to explain it to Melody." His chest expanded roughly. "And men she told me about the movie contract they'd offered her. And how she felt about children. She didn't want them. Not ever."

"Oh, Jason," she whispered sympathetically, because she knew how hard it was for him to share private feelings with anybody.

"She laughed at me, damn her," he said curtly. "She said that only a naive country boy would be dumb enough to expect a woman to throw away her career just to have children. Children, she said, weren't even necessary these days. And then she told me that she'd been pregnant with mine—and she'd gotten rid of it."

Kate felt tears sting her eyes. He'd never talked about the way Melody had left him. He'd never said anything about a baby. She felt the pain in him like a living thing, and remembered how it hurt him even to see a calf put down. So now she knew. Why he'd been drinking that night they first became friends. Why he'd never let another woman into his life. He'd been badly betrayed.

She went into Jason's arms without a second's hesitation, pressing close, holding him, to give him all the comfort she could. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry!"

His lean hands gripped her shoulders hard enough to hurt before he got himself under control again. "I wanted you to know why. What I am, she helped make me," he whispered roughly. "God, Kate, I can't risk that again. I want you. But I don't want commitment. I'm still too raw

from what Melody did to my pride, my manhood." "Have I ever asked you for commitment?" she whispered, drawing back to look up at him, with soft, adoring compassion in her eyes.

"You never would. You're as proud as I am," he replied. He touched her mouth gently with his fingers, fascinated by its softness. "But if I seduced you, I'd marry you, because you're a virgin. I'd feel a moral obligation to make it right. But I wouldn't want it. And you'd suffer for it."

She pressed her hands flat against the front of his silk shirt. Through it she could feel the hard muscle and warmth, see the dark wedge of thick chest hair that arrowed down into his belt. She touched one of the small shirt buttons idly. "What are we going to do, Jason?"

"I think it would be a good idea if we don't see each other for a while."

She forced a smile. ' 'I was afraid that was what you were leading up to," she said softly.

He tilted her face up to his, and his eyes were very dark and steady. "I never should have touched you like that to begin with. It's becoming an addiction. First the attraction, then deep, hungry kisses. From there, it gets worse and hotter until, inevitably, we'll go at each other like animals."

She breathed deliberately. "Are you sure?"

He nodded. "Yes, honey. I'm sure." He pulled her hips gently against his and watched the reaction in her eyes. "Now consider that this has happened before I've even kissed you. For a man, this kind of arousal can be anguish. And I can lose control. Any man can, with the right incen
tive. I want you badly. I can't remember ever feeling anything so explosively sweet with a woman." He brushed back the wisps of hair that had escaped from her braid into her face. "Kate, I have a very special feeling for you," he said hesitantly. "I don't want to cheapen it by making you into a convenience. Can you understand that?"

She nodded. She smiled, so that he wouldn't realize how much the words were hurting her. "I guess I got carried away, too," she said.

His dark eyes went down to the soft hands pressing against his chest. He touched her short nails, caressed their pinkness with his thumb while he tried to convince his body that it should cooperate with his brain.

"That's understandable," he said after a minute. "It was all new to you, and we know each other in more than just a physical way."

"Yes," she agreed quietly, because her voice would wobble if she said much more than that. She'd daydreamed all day about what it would be like when he came to supper. And here he was, telling her that they were going to be friends. There would be no more warm, slow kissing in the darkness. No more consuming passion. He didn't want Kate to get any closer to him than she already had. This was going to be the end of her dreams of Jason. She should have known better than to hope. She should have realized what was going to happen when he realized where they were headed. Jason trusted no woman with his heart, not even Kate.

"So under the circumstances," he continued, "I think I'd better pass on supper." She managed a careless shrug, and she was smiling bravely when she looked up again. "Sure."

His dark eyes narrowed. ' 'I know it hurts,'' he said suddenly, with the same perception that she had for his deepest feelings. "But it's for your own good. You want your career and I want my freedom. That's the only reason we've been as close as we have, because neither of us wanted ties."

That simple statement made the whole puzzle crystal clear. She looked up into his impassive face and understood everything. "That's why you let me get so close," she said absently. "I wasn't a threat."

"You were a pretty kid with eyes that saw all too deep at a time when I needed someone desperately. But not physically." He felt her withdrawal even before she drew away from him. His face hardened because it wasn't easy to say these things to her.

"I see," she said. She wrapped her arms around her breasts. She couldn't look at him.

"No, you weren't a threat, Kate," he said, his voice very quiet. He paused to light a cigarette because he needed something to steady him. "You were off limits, and I could talk to you. But that changed, suddenly and without warning. And now if I come too close to you, I go half out of my mind with desire. I

can't let that go on. I like my life as it is, now. I want no more complications." "You just got through saying that you wanted a family, and children...." she began, glancing up.

He forced himself to be blunt. "I wanted that with Melody," he replied. He took a draw from the cigarette and blew out a thin cloud of smoke. "I don't want it anymore. With anyone," he emphasized.

He was afraid, Kate thought, staring at him like someone who'd been unexpectedly shot. She didn't even blink. He was afraid to trust a woman with his heart, so he was smothering the delicate feeling that had been growing between them. He wasn't even going to give it a chance.

She felt as if she were growing up all at once, instead of in easy stages. She reached up and pushed her hair back, trying to look calm. "Well, you never had any problems with me on that score," she told him softly. "I want a career, too, and no complications. So you were safe all along, Jason."

Her tone irritated him. He lifted his chin, scowling. "Safe?"

"From being deliberately led down the path to the altar," she said with theatrical effect. "From being seduced for your money and your name. I don't want to settle down, either. I never did. Marriage is for the birds, Jason, and so are children. All I want is to make my own way in the world and have a respected designer label to show for it. I'd rather die than have to stay in rural Texas all my life, eating dust and smelling cattle all day."

Something darkened his eyes, stiffened his posture. He didn't let it show, but the words stung. He managed a care
less smile, though, and took another draw from the cigarette.

"I'm glad you see things my way," he said. "No harm done."