Diamond Spur. Diana Palmer
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strange to argue like this with you,” she said finally, smiling faintly. “We’ve been friends for a long time now. We get along better than any two people I know. And yet in the past two days, all we’ve done is disagree. It’s...it’s uncomfortable.”
“This is the first time you’ve really gone against me,” he replied.
“I’ve never wanted anything this badly before,” she replied. And it was true, she’d never fought him. How odd to suddenly wake up and find that she’d allowed herself to be dominated by him for years. Her eyes searched his dark face. “You won’t change my mind, Jason. I’m going to do what pleases me, even if it doesn’t please you.”
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t speak. It was frankly arousing to argue with her. His body made a sudden and emphatic statement about what it wanted, and he moved restlessly, trying to convince it that she wasn’t fair game.
“I’ll drive you home,” he said abruptly.
“I have the car,” she reminded him reluctantly. His nearness was already working on her, and she wanted the delight of being alone with him, even if it was just for a few minutes on the way home. Remembering the way he’d looked at her and touched her the day before still made her burn with untried longings.
“That’s just as well,” he said after a minute. He lifted the cigarette again to his chiseled lips. “I’m in a strange mood tonight.”
“I don’t understand.”
His chin lifted and he scowled at her. “Don’t you? Are you going to pretend that nothing happened yesterday?” he challenged, driven by mingled desire and frustration to lash out at her.
She remembered, but she didn’t want to. Jason aroused her, excited her, and she was uncertain of his motives. He’d always been possessive of her, but lately he was taking it to new heights. She felt that if she let him, he’d smother her.
“Nothing did happen, really,” she faltered.
He moved closer, his whole posture threatening. She could smell his cologne and the scent of leather that clung to his soft Western shirt. Her breath stifled in her throat.
“And nothing’s different between us?” he persisted.
She could hardly breathe at all. His fingers were on her hair, lightly touching it. “No,” she whispered.
“Then it shouldn’t bother you if I have women.”
She bit her lower lip until her teeth almost broke the skin. The image of that was unbearable. “No,” she agreed. “It shouldn’t.”
He flicked the cigarette off the porch while the silence closed in around them. He tilted her chin up and searched her eyes in the dim light from the windows.
Her mouth, faintly pink and just a little tremulous, looked delicious. He wondered idly if anyone had even kissed her properly. God, he wanted to do that!
Kate watched, shocked, as his dark head suddenly bent toward her. She could feel his warm, smoky breath on her parted lips and her own breath came jerkily.
“Don’t pull away from me,” he whispered deeply as his head tilted, his fingers touching her cheek. His nose nuzzled against hers and his mouth brushed the corner of hers, then drew lightly over the full softness of her parted lips. “I won’t hurt you,” he breathed against her mouth just as his covered it.
The sensation was explosive. His mouth was hard and warm and faintly hungry. He teased her lips until she went weak in the knees and her heart began to slam at her rib cage. Her eyes, half open, a little frightened, searched his curiously when he drew back to look at her.
“You taste of coffee,” he said deeply. She’d never heard that pitch in his voice before, that sensual note. It was exciting and new.
“You...you taste of cigarette smoke,” she whispered back, trying to smile. But she didn’t know how to play sophisticated games, and she was out of her depth with him.
He seemed to know that. His lean hands came up to frame her face and he bent again. “Open your mouth this time,” he breathed as his lips nudged hers apart. “Deep kisses are an acquired taste, but I think I can make you want mine.”
She moaned at the way he said it, at the velvet of his deep voice, at the aching hunger his caressing lips aroused in her body. She let him push her lips apart with his, admitting the slow, tender penetration of his tongue. She felt his tongue touching hers, fencing with it, and her body began to tremble.
One of Jason’s hands went behind her head, to support it. The other traced her cheek, her soft throat while he deepened the kiss. His mouth was expert. Warm and hard and knowing, and she could hear his rough breathing mingled with hers in the silence of the porch. Instinctively she tried to move closer to him, wanting his strength to support her sudden weakness.
His mouth lifted a second later, pressing roughly against the side of her neck. He slid his arms around her and enveloped her against him, but when she pressed even closer and felt the sudden changed contours of his body, he gently eased his hips back to prevent the contact.
She wanted to ask him if it embarrassed him to have her know he was aroused, but she was too shy to put it into words. She’d heard girls at school talk about men getting this way. She knew what caused it, and her head swam to think that, at her age, she could have that effect on Jason.
He was having his own effect on her as well. She couldn’t seem to stop trembling, and his arms tightened, shifting her soft breasts against his hard chest. She could feel the muscle right through the soft material of her blouse. He had to know that she wasn’t wearing a bra by now, and that made her nervous. She tugged gently against his hard arms, but he wouldn’t let go.
“Don’t fight me,” he murmured at her ear as his head lifted. “I won’t take advantage of it.”
“Of...what?” she faltered, trying to save her pride.
“Of the fact that you’re bare under that blouse, Kate,” he said. He lifted his head and looked down at her with an odd kind of patient indulgence, but there was a glitter in his dark eyes that made her heart skip beats. “That I can feel how soft you are, lying on my chest.”
Her face went blood red. She dropped her eyes to the steady rise and fall of his chest. She felt inadequate. Years too young.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he murmured. He scowled, gently tracing her mouth with a lean forefinger, feeling its instant shy response. “I told you I was in a strange mood. I should have sent you on home before this happened.”
“Are you sorry that it did?” she asked shyly, and her eyes were wide and soft and still hungry when they met his.
“Are you hell-bent on becoming famous?” he countered.
“I just want to see how far I can go,” she told him. “No, I don’t want to be famous. I just want to use my talent.”
“New York is a long way from Texas.”
“So you keep telling me. Jason, I won’t change.”
“You will,” he said quietly. He studied her young face quietly. “But I’m not going to have you seduced by some Ivy Leaguer with a line a mile long. I don’t want you treated like an appetizer.”
“You’re very possessive lately,” she said, but it flattered her that he cared, that he didn’t want anything to happen to her.
“Of course I’m possessive. I owe you my life a time or two.” He sighed roughly. “I don’t want a man to...hurt you,” he said finally, and his dark eyes were troubled. “Inevitably, if you move in those circles, you’re going to meet some experienced men, and you won’t know how to handle them. You could get drunk one time too many in the wrong company, or you could be flattered too much by a man’s attentions. And the first time, if a man isn’t damned gentle....” He stopped, frowning