Diana Palmer Texan Lovers. Diana Palmer
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and muscles rippled under the wedge of thick brown hair that ran down into the wide belt around his slender hips. He didn’t smile, and his dark eyes had heavy circles underneath them. He looked as tired as Abby felt.
“Where are you going now?” he asked coldly.
“Out to look at apartments,” she said carelessly. “In a little over two and a half months I’ll be needing one.”
“How does Justin feel about that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing angrily.
“Justin isn’t the one who’s trying to keep me in a cage,” she replied. She was tired of the whole thing, of his unreasonable anger and even of Justin playing cupid. “Look, Justin just took me out for a meal. He didn’t park the car and try to make love to me. He isn’t that kind of man, and you should be ashamed of yourself for thinking he is. Justin’s like a brother to me. Just…as you are,” she finished, averting her eyes. “I don’t have romantic thoughts about either one of you.”
“And that’s a damned lie,” he said in a cold tone. He jerked away from the door, slamming it behind him, bringing her shocked eyes to him as he advanced toward her. “I’m no more your brother than I’m your great-uncle.”
She backed up into a chair, swerved and made it to the wall. He looked dangerous, and she didn’t know how to handle this lightning mood switch.
“That’s what you want me to be,” she said accusingly, pressing against the cold wall. “You want me to be a kid sister and not get in your way or make eyes at you—”
“My God, I don’t know what I want anymore,” he ground out as he placed his big hands on either side of her head, his body too close, too sensuous, too deliciously masculine. The scent of him filled her nostrils, excited her senses. She could see the tiny golden tips of the hair on his chest now, glittering in the light. Glittering…like the dark, intent eyes that caught hers and held them.
“Calhoun, I have to go,” she said, her voice faltering.
“Why?” he asked.
She could see him breathing. His chest rose and fell roughly, as if he were having a hard time getting air in and out. She felt that way herself. He was too close, and her vulnerability was going to start showing any minute. She couldn’t bear to have him see her weakness and make fun of it.
“Stop it,” she whispered huskily, closing her eyes. “Damn you, stop…oh!”
He had her mouth under his so smoothly and easily that her heart seemed to stop beating. He wasn’t gentle, either. It was as if the feel of her soft body under his made him wild, made him hungry.
In fact, he was starving for her. He leaned down so that his hips and thighs were fully against her, so that his bare chest was against the velour of her jacket. He didn’t like not being able to feel her breasts, so he snapped open the buttons of the jacket and pushed the material aside. He felt her gasp as her breasts pressed against him, and he groaned, marveling at the warm softness of her. Nudging her lips apart, he nipped sensuously at the lower one. That was arousing, too, and he wanted her. He wanted her mouth as he wanted her soft, sweet young body. His tongue pushed into her mouth, past her lips, tangling with her own, and he groaned and gave her his full weight, pressing her against the wall.
Abby was frightened. She hadn’t expected anything quite so adult, and she’d never been kissed by anyone who had any expertise. Calhoun was experienced, and he was kissing her as if she knew all the answers, too. But she didn’t. The feel of his body in such unfamiliar intimacy was embarrassing, and his mouth was doing shocking things to her own. She pushed at his chest, afraid of his lack of control.
“No!” she whimpered.
He barely heard her. His mind was spinning, his body in torment. He managed to lift his head, breathing roughly, and look down at her. But the passion and delight he had expected to see in her pale eyes was missing. They were wide, but not with desire. With…fear!
He scowled. Her hands were on his chest, but they were pushing, not caressing, and she was crying.
“Abby,” he whispered gently. “Honey…”
“Let me…go,” she sobbed brokenly. “Oh, let me go!” She pushed again, harder.
This time he flexed his hands against the wall and pushed away from her, leaving her cold, empty. She moved past him, putting half the length of the room between them. So that—that!—was what passion felt like. She shivered a little at the memory. Her mouth hurt where his had ground against it, and her breasts were sore from the hard pressure of his chest. He hadn’t even tried to be gentle. She stared at him accusingly, her eyes bright with tears as she drew her jacket closer and shivered.
Calhoun felt as if he’d been hit in the head with a hammer. Her reaction hadn’t been anything like what he’d expected. He’d almost kissed her once before, and she’d been yielding then, willing. But now she looked as if she hated him.
“You hurt me,” she whispered shakily.
He was lost for words. Concerned, he stared at her, his dark eyes quiet on her wan face. She looked as if she had never experienced a man’s passion. Was that possible? Could any woman be that unawakened in this day and age?
“Haven’t you ever been kissed?” he asked softly.
“Of course I have,” she replied stiffly. “But not…not like that!”
His eyebrows went up. At last he was catching one. “My God,” he said huskily. “Abby, adults kiss that way!”
“Then I don’t want to be an adult,” she returned, coloring. “Not if I have to be mauled like that!”
He watched her turn and leave the room, and he was powerless to stop her. Her reaction had floored him completely. He’d expected her to know a little about lovemaking, at least, but she seemed totally innocent. She’d never known a deep kiss or the intimacy of a man’s body.
It should have pleased him, but he found it irritating that she thought he’d mauled her. By God, he should have let her go out with Myers. Then she’d know what it was to be mauled!
He left the room and closed the door, his expression thunderous as he heard her footsteps going down the staircase and then her muffled goodbye to Justin.
Calhoun went back to his own room. He was breathing roughly, and his heart wouldn’t beat properly. He felt hot all over. Frustrated. Furious. Damn Abby and her soft body. It was driving him out of his mind!
He went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Well, it was a good thing she didn’t like his kisses, because hell would freeze over before she ever got another one.
Abby was blissfully unaware of Calhoun’s thoughts. She climbed into her car and started it with hands that were still trembling. How could Calhoun have hurt her like that if he’d cared anything about her? He’d just proved how little she meant to him. He’d only been interested in his own pleasure, not hers. Well, he could go back to his blondes for all she cared. She was sure she hated him now.
Misty was already dressed and waiting when Abby got to the colonial mansion the older girl shared with her parents. Misty took them to town in her little sports car, and for once Abby didn’t mind the wind. It might blow away her misery. Just thinking about Calhoun’s rough treatment made her miserable. She loved him and it hurt terribly that he could treat her that way. But she had to pretend that nothing was wrong, so that Misty wouldn’t start asking questions that Abby didn’t want to answer.
They parked in town and went to the first address on Misty’s list. It was an apartment above a sweet shop, on the corner across from the bank. Misty didn’t like the place, because there was only one bedroom and she wanted her privacy. Abby deliberately put the implications of that remark in the back of her mind and added that she didn’t like the view. It was too close to the center of town, and there was a good deal of traffic on Saturday night.
The second place they went was just right. The room