[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
on my terms."
That sounded suspiciously like a dig at her, because she'd refused him for what he thought was
a lack of money. Her eyes lifted to his. "Do you still hate me, Justin?" she asked; she needed to know.
He stared at her without speaking for a long moment, quietly smoking his cigarette. "I'm not
sure what I feel."
That reply was honest enough, even if it wasn't a declaration of undying love. There were so
many wounds between them, so much bitterness. It was probably an insane thing to do, but she couldn't
resist the temptation.
She stared at his cigarette instead of at him. "I'll marry you, then, if you mean it."
He didn't move, but something inside him went wild at the words. She couldn't know how many
nights he'd spent aching for just the sight of her, how desperately he wanted her near him. But he could
never trust her again, and that was the hell of it. She was just a stray person, he told himself. Just
someone who needed help. He had to think of her that way, and not want the moon. She might even
play up to him out of gratitude, so he'd have to be on his guard every minute. But, oh, God, he wanted
her so!
"Then we don't need to see Mrs. Simpson until we've had time to make plans." He started the
car, pulled out onto the road and turned the Thunderbird toward the feedlot and his house. His hands
had a perceptible tremor. He gripped the steering wheel hard to keep Shelby from seeing how her
answer affected him.
If Maria and Lopez were shocked to see Shelby with Justin, they didn't say anything. Lopez
vanished into the kitchen while Maria fussed over Shelby, bringing coffee and pastries into the living
room where Justin sprawled in his armchair and Shelby perched nervously on the edge of the sofa.
"Thank you, Maria," Shelby said with a warm smile.
The Mexican woman smiled back. "It is my pleasure, senorita. I will be in the kitchen if you
need me, senor" she added to Justin before she went out, discreetly closing the door behind her.
Shelby noticed that Justin didn't comment on Maria's obvious conclusions. Perhaps Maria
thought he might want to wrestle her down onto the sofa, but Shelby knew better. Justin had done that
once, and only once. And she'd been so frightened that she'd reacted stupidly. She'd never forgiven
herself for that. Justin had probably thought she found his ardor distasteful, and that was the last thing it
had been.
She sighed, lowering her eyes to his black boots. They weren't working boots; they were the
ones he wore when he dressed up. He had such big feet and hands. She smiled, remembering how it
had been when they'd first started dating. They'd been like children, fascinated with each other's com-
pany, both of them a little shy and reserved. It had never gone beyond kisses except the night they got
engaged.
"I said, do you want some coffee?" Justin repeated pointedly, holding the silver coffeepot over a
cup he'd just filled.
"Oh. Yes, thank you." She took it black, and apparently he remembered her preference, because
he didn't offer her any cream or sugar. He poured his own cup full, put a dash of cream in it and sat
back with the china cup and saucer balanced on his crossed knee.
Shelby glanced at him and wondered how she could contemplate living under the same roof
with him. He was so unapproachable. Obviously he wanted revenge. She'd be a fool to give him that
much rope to hang her with.
On the other hand, if she was living with him, she had a better chance than ever of changing his
mind about her. All she really had to do to prove her innocence was to get him into bed. But that was
the whole problem. She was scared to death of intimacy.
"Why the blush?" he asked, watching her.
She cleared her throat. "It's warm in here," she said.
"Is it?" He laughed mirthlessly and sipped his coffee. "In case you wondered, you'll have your
own room. I won't expect any repayment for giving you a home."
The blush went scarlet. She had to fight not to fling her cup at him. "You're making me sound
like a charity case."
"I'll bet that rankles," he agreed. "But Tyler can't help you and hold down a job at the same
time. And you'll never make it on what Holman pays you, with all due respect to him. Secretaries in
small towns don't make much."
"I'm not mercenary," she said defensively.
"Sure," he replied. He sipped his coffee without another word.
"Listen, Justin, it was all my father's idea, that fake engagement to Tom Wheelor "
"Your father would never have done that to me," he interrupted coldly, and his eyes went black,
threatening as he leaned forward. "Don't try to use him for a scapegoat just because he's dead. He was
one of the best friends I had."
That's what you think, she mused bitterly. Obviously it wasn't going to do any good to talk to
him. Just because her father had put on a show of liking him was no reason to put the man on a
pedestal. God only knew why Justin had such respect for a man who'd caused him years of bitter
humiliation.
"You'll never trust me again, will you?" she asked softly.
He studied her lovely face, her pale green eyes staring at him, her gaze burning into his soul.
"No," he replied with the honesty that was as much a part of him as his craggy face and thick black
hair. "There's too much water under the bridge.
But if you think I'm nursing a broken heart, don't. I found you out just a little too soon. My
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]