Diana Palmer Texan Lovers. Diana Palmer
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was miserable by the time they got home. She’d done nothing but think of Calhoun and the model. Justin had been kind, talking as if she were really listening to him. But she was reliving those few tempestuous minutes in Calhoun’s Jaguar, when he’d come so close to kissing her and then had insulted her so terribly. She didn’t understand his hot-and-cold attitude or his irritability. She didn’t understand anything anymore.
Justin parked his elegant black Thunderbird in the garage, and Abby was surprised to find Calhoun’s Jaguar already there.
“Well, well, look who’s home,” Justin murmured, glancing at Abby. “I guess he felt like an early night.”
“Maybe he was exhausted,” Abby said coldly.
Justin didn’t comment, but he seemed highly amused and smug about something.
Calhoun was in the living room with the brandy bottle when they got home. He was down to his white shirtsleeves, which he’d rolled up to his elbows. His shirt was almost completely open in front, and Abby had to bite her lip to keep from staring helplessly at the broad expanse of his muscular chest. He was the most sensuous man she’d ever known, so powerful and tall and huge. Just the sight of him made her body tingle.
“So you finally brought her home,” Calhoun shot at his brother. “Do you know what time it is?”
“Sure,” Justin said imperturbably. “It’s two o’clock in the morning.”
“What were you doing?”
Justin cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, riding around. And things. Night, Abby,” he said, and winked at her before he turned and went up the staircase.
Abby felt as if she’d been poleaxed. Now why had Justin said that? It had made Calhoun look frankly murderous. She cleared her throat.
“I think I’ll go up, too.” She started to turn, only to have her arm caught in a viselike grip by huge warm fingers and be pulled into the living room.
Calhoun slammed the door behind her, his chest heaving with rough breaths. His dark eyes were really black now, glittering, dangerous, and his sensuous mouth was a thin, grim line.
“Where were you?” he demanded. “And doing what? Justin’s thirty-seven, and he’s no boy.”
She stared at him blankly. The sudden attack had knocked the wind out of her for a minute, but then her temper came to the rescue.
“That blonde you were out with was no schoolgirl, either,” she replied as calmly as she could, even though her knees were shaking under her. She leaned back against the door for support.
His heavy brows drew together. “My private life is none of your business,” he said defensively.
“Of course not,” she agreed. “You’ve already said that you didn’t want me hanging around you like a lovesick calf, and I’m doing my best not to,” she added, although it hurt terribly to try to make light of that hurtful remark.
His heavy shoulders made a jerky movement as he looked at her and away again, as if her answer made him uncomfortable. “Justin’s too old for you.”
“Bullfeathers,” she replied, lifting her chin. “You’ve objected to every other man I’ve ever gone out with, but you can’t object to your own brother. Justin would never hurt me, and you know it.”
He did know it, but that didn’t help. He was dying at the thought of Abby and Justin together.
“Oh, for God’s sake!” he burst out, lost for words.
She took a steadying breath, though her heart was still doing a tango in her chest. “Why should it matter to you what I do?” she challenged him. “And you’re a fine one to sit in judgment on other people! My gosh, Calhoun, everybody in the world knows what a playboy you are!”
He glared at her, trying to keep his temper. “I’m not a playboy,” he said tersely. “I may date women occasionally—”
“Every night,” she returned. Even though she knew her assertion wasn’t completely true, she was too angry to split hairs. “Not that I mind,” she added with a cold smile. “I don’t care who you go out with, as long as you stop poking your nose into my business. I’ll date whom I please, Calhoun, and if you don’t like it, you know what you can do!”
He started to tell her what she could do, but before he could get the words out she’d jerked the door open and gone out and up the staircase.
“If you stay out until two o’clock in the morning again, with or without Justin, I’ll take a tree limb to you!” Calhoun yelled up the stairs.
Abby made a sound that almost drove him crazy. He muttered something obscene and went back into the living room, slamming the door so hard it shook the room.
Damn women! He could have screamed at the effect she was having on him lately. She was ruining his love life, ruining his business life. All he did was think about her damned pretty breasts….
Abby cried herself to sleep. It had been a rotten evening altogether, and every time she thought of Calhoun kissing that model she got sicker. She hated him. She hated every bone in his body, and she most especially hated his possessiveness. She had to find an apartment. She had to get away. After tonight it was going to be just plain horrible trying to stay in the same house with Calhoun until her birthday.
The next morning she slept late. She usually got up and went to church, but this time she played hooky. She didn’t want to risk running into Calhoun.
But as it was, there was nothing to worry about. When she finally went downstairs at lunchtime, wearing jeans and a beige knit top, her hair in a ponytail, Calhoun was nowhere in sight.
“Good morning,” Justin said from the head of the table, smiling faintly. “How did it go last night?”
“Don’t ask,” she groaned. She sat down and glanced nervously at the door. “Is he here?”
He shook his head and filled his cup with coffee then passed the carafe to Abby. “He’s still asleep,” he said. That was surprising, because Calhoun was usually up early. Justin actually grinned then. “What happened?”
“He thinks I should be in before two o’clock in the morning, even if he isn’t,” she said calmly. “And you’re too old for me,” she added with a faint grin, eyeing him.
He chuckled. “What else?”
“He’s going crazy, Justin,” she said. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately. It can’t be his love life—his model seemed to be more than willing,” she added cattily.
Justin looked at her, but he didn’t reply. He poured cream into his coffee. “Oh, I almost forgot. Misty phoned. Something about having an apartment she wanted you to look at today if you want to go with her.”
“Yes, I think I do,” she murmured with a cold glance at the staircase.
“You know I don’t approve of Misty as your prospective roommate,” Justin told her honestly. “But it’s your decision.”
“You’re a nice man.”
“I’m glad you think so. Obviously my brother thinks I’m as big a rake as he is.” He chuckled.
“Thank God you aren’t,” she sighed. “One in the family is enough!”
“If you’re going out, you’d better wear a jacket,” Justin warned. “I stepped out to get the paper and almost froze in place.”
Abby sighed again. “And they keep saying spring is just around the corner.”
She finished her breakfast and called Misty to tell her she’d be right over. Then she returned to her room to get her burgundy velour jacket. She was looping the last button when she turned to the open door and found Calhoun standing there, looking at her broodingly.
He’d