by Diana Palmer
“I’ve always dreamed about Boone,” Keely said. “I never thought he might feel the same way about me.”
Winnie laughed. “I had a hunch about that when he went off and beat up the private detective,” she mused. “That’s not like Boone. It wasn’t just guilt, either. He may think you’re too young, Keely, but he seems to have come to grips with your age.”
Keely smiled. “I’m old for my age,” she said drily.
“And I’ll say amen to that!”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
BOONE CAME HOME dusty and worn-out, having helped move steers from summer pasture into the holding pens nearby, where they’d be held until they could be shipped to a feedlot for finishing as yearlings.
It was a long, arduous process, and somebody always got hurt. Fortunately, Keely noted, it wasn’t Boone.
“You pay your foreman a fortune to do that job, and then you go out and work like you’re him,” Winnie fussed as he came into Keely’s bedroom after he’d showered.
“I’m not cut out for the life of a gentleman of leisure,” he pointed out, smiling. “How’re you doing, sprout?” he asked Keely.
“Much better,” she assured him. “Have you heard anything from Hayes Carson?”
He shook his head. “He’ll get back in touch with us when he’s got something to say. Meanwhile, stop worrying. You’re safe here.”
She smiled. “I know. It wasn’t that. I just wondered.”
“I’m starved,” he told Winnie. “When are we eating?”
“Mrs. Johnston’s outdone herself,” Winnie replied with a grin. “Beef stew and Mexican corn bread.”
“Worth working all day for,” he said. “I’ll bring yours up,” he told Keely.
“I could come downstairs,” she began.
“Not until Coltrain says you can,” he replied firmly. “We don’t want a relapse, now, do we?”
“I guess not. My arm’s better, though,” she said, moving it gingerly. “The swelling’s gone down a lot.”
“Damned snake,” he muttered.
“That’s exactly what I said when it happened,” Keely assured him.
He grinned. “You do look better.” His eyes slid over the flowered gown. They were bold and possessive.
* * *
THE MEMORY OF that look kept her occupied all through supper. He’d brought it himself, on a tray, to the amusement of Winnie, Clark and Mrs. Johnston, who added a flower in a vase to the tray.
After supper, Winnie went straight to her bedroom to change clothes. Clark went out. Boone changed into pajamas and a robe and came walking into Keely’s bedroom with a file folder in his hand, reading glasses on and a pencil over one ear. He piled into bed with Keely, propping himself up on two of the mound of pillows Mrs. Johnston had brought her. He proceeded to open the folder and read.
Keely was fascinated. “What are you doing?”
“Working on printouts of the breeding program that our cow-and-calf foreman brought me,” he told her. “We breed for certain traits, like low birth weight and lean conformation, and we use computers to make projections for us.” He showed her the information on the pages.
“No. I mean...I mean, what are you doing in here, like that?” She indicated his pajamas and robe.
He gave her a conspiratorial grin. “I’m sleeping with you.”
“You are not!” she gasped. “In the first place, I can’t—”
“Sleeping,” he emphasized. “You close your eyes and the next thing you know, it’s morning.”
She relaxed a little, but she was still wary.
“All the doors are open,” he pointed out, nodding toward the hall. “They’ll stay open. Nobody will notice that I’m in here.”
Winnie walked past the doorway and smiled. She stopped suddenly, turned and stared.
Boone glowered at her. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked his sister. “Haven’t you ever seen a man in pajamas and a robe before?”
“You’re in bed with Keely,” she stated. “She’s still fragile,” she added worriedly.
“That’s true, but her father’s friend is something of an escape artist,” he agreed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a worn-looking Smith & Wesson .38 caliber police special. He put it up again. “Nobody’s getting past me.”
Winnie stopped looking shocked and began to grin. “I get it.”
“Good. While you’re getting things, how about getting Bailey and his bed out of my room and bringing them both in here?” he added. “He’ll start howling if the light goes off and he’s alone in there.”
“He really does,” Winnie told Keely. “He thinks Boone will die if he isn’t there to protect him.”
Keely smiled. “He’s a sweet old boy.”
“Who, me?” Boone drawled, peering at her wickedly over his reading glasses.
“The dog!” she emphasized.
“Oh.” He went back to his spreadsheets, oblivious to the world.
Winnie chuckled. “I’ll get Bailey.”
* * *
SHE DID. SHE also got Clark and Mrs. Johnston. They all peered in from the hall, fascinated. Boone had never even brought a woman upstairs in living memory, and here he was in bed, in his pajamas, with Keely.
Clark started to speak. Boone lifted the gun, displayed it, put it back in his pocket without looking up from the spreadsheet.
“I haven’t said anything!” Clark protested. “You shouldn’t threaten people with guns just because they’re curious!”
“It’s for Keely’s father’s evil friend,” Winnie told him.
“Oh. Oh!” Clark finally got it. “Okay.”
Mrs. Johnston was grinning from ear to ear. Her white hair seemed to vibrate. She and Clark and Winnie just stood, staring and grinning. Boone reached in his other pocket and brought out a jeweler’s box, just the size to contain a ring. He displayed it, still without looking up from the spreadsheet, and put it away again. Now Keely was looking breathless, too.
“Here’s Bailey and his bed,” Winnie said as she put the dog pallet on Boone’s side of the bed. “We’ll close the door on our way out.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Boone told her curtly. “This is a respectable household. No hanky-panky above stairs.” He glared at Clark. “From anybody.”
Clark threw up his hands. “I once, only once, sneaked a girl into my room for immoral purposes. He never forgets!”
“It was an act of charity,” Winnie chided Boone. “He found her wandering all alone on a street corner and brought her home to get a blanket to put around her.”
Everybody burst out laughing, even Clark.
“All right, that’s enough. Everybody out. I’ve got work to do, then we’re going to have a decent night’s sleep.” He glanced down at Keely, who was watching him with openly worshipful eyes. He smiled tenderly. “Some of us could use it more than others.”
“I won’t argue with that,” Keely replied.
While they were looking at each other, their audience vanished.
Boone glanced at the doorway and chuckled deep in his throat as he looked down at his bedmate. “I do have evil purposes in mind,” he confided in a low tone, “but they’re probably all hiding ten feet from the door, waiting for developments. So we have to behave.”
She sighed deeply. “Okay,” she replied. Her hand, under the sheet, reached over to touch his muscular arm. She closed her eyes, comforted by the contact. “I’ve been afraid to sleep for days,” she whispered. “Now I’m not.”
He smoothed a hand over her blond hair. “Go to sleep,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“I know that.”
He went back to the spreadsheet. Seconds later, in the long silence that followed, three sets of eyes peered cautiously in the door.
“What?” Boone asked belligerently.
They scattered to the four winds. Bailey climbed into his bed, circled a few times, lay down and yawned and went back to sleep.
* * *
THE NE
XT MORNING, Keely heard a car drive up. She opened her eyes slowly, disoriented. She was lying next to a warm, hard body that had her wrapped up gently against it. They were both under the covers.
Boone looked down at her warmly. “Ready for breakfast?” he asked softly. “I hear movement from the general direction of the kitchen.”
She curled closer. “I could eat.”
They were both on her side of the bed and had apparently been close like that all night. Keely felt so safe and cozy that she was reluctant to move.
Voices murmured downstairs, and heavy, quick footsteps came up the staircase. Hayes Carson walked in, his uniform a little rumpled, like his blond, brown-streaked hair under his Stetson.
He stopped, lifting both eyebrows.
Boone yawned. “I’ve got a gun,” he murmured.
“I haven’t said anything yet,” Hayes protested.
Boone glared at him. “To protect Keely with,” he added.
“Oh.”
Hayes marched over to the bed, threw his hat on the carpeted floor, climbed in next to Boone and lay back on the pillows. “God, I’m tired! I’ve been up all night helping interrogate Keely’s father and his friend.”
“Make yourself comfortable,” Boone drawled sarcastically.
“Thanks, I will,” Hayes replied. “This is the most comfortable bed I’ve ever been in,” he added. He reached down, scooped up his hat and set it over his eyes. “I could sleep for a week!”
“Tell me what you’re doing here first,” Boone said.
“In order to save his skin, Keely’s father made a plea deal. He gave us his friend Jock on a murder charge. It seems that Jock killed a woman in Arizona. He was the chief suspect, but they couldn’t get the evidence to convict him. Keely’s father has a watch that belonged to the dead woman, and he can put Jock there at the time of the murder.” He smiled under the hat.
“What about my father?” Keely wanted to know.
“Three to five, on accessory charges. We talked to the assistant D.A. last night, too.”
“Maybe it will teach him something,” Keely said, but she didn’t sound convinced.
“Don’t look for miracles,” Boone advised. “With lawbreakers, they rarely happen.”
“Like you know,” Hayes drawled from under the hat. He crossed his long legs.
There was the sound of another car arriving. A car door slammed. Voices murmured. Another sound of footsteps, but these were soft and quick and almost undetectable.
Kilraven poised in the doorway, staring. “Well, if that isn’t just like county law enforcement,” he muttered. “Walk out in the middle of an interrogation and leave the hard work to the local law!”
“Shut up, Kilraven,” Hayes said pleasantly. “I haven’t slept since night before last.”
“Like I have!” Kilraven shot back. He scowled. He shrugged. “Hell, maybe you’re right. A little rest might perk us all up. Hi, Keely,” he greeted as he sank down onto the foot of the bed and sprawled across it at Hayes’s booted feet. “Say, this is a really soft bed,” he mused, closing his own eyes.
There were other footsteps. “Isn’t anybody coming down for breakfast...?”
Winnie stood in the doorway, absolutely dumbstruck. There were four people in the bed. Two of them were in uniform.
“I’m not bringing trays up here,” she announced. “Anybody who wants breakfast has to come downstairs and get it.” She grinned. “There’s enough for company, too.”
“Are we company?” Hayes asked drowsily.
“Apparently,” Kilraven replied.
“I suppose we all have to get up.” Hayes sighed.
“It is my bed,” Boone pointed out. “And Keely and I were here first.”
Hayes sat up. He frowned. “What are you doing in bed with Keely?”
He produced the revolver from his pocket.
“Gun!” Kilraven exclaimed.
Boone just shook his head and laughed.
* * *
THE GUESTS STAYED for breakfast and then went on their way. Kilraven was giving Winnie an odd look. She was subdued with him now. It was as if all the joy and bubbly fun had gone out of her forever. She knew there was no chance that he’d ever care for her in any permanent way, and she wasn’t the sort for temporary liaisons. It broke her heart.
Kilraven tried to catch her eye as he and Hayes headed out the front door, but she wouldn’t look at him. She said goodbye in a perfectly natural, pleasant tone and went back to the table. Kilraven was frowning when he left.
“Don’t you have a meeting with some visiting cattlemen today?” Winnie asked Boone.
“Yes, for a couple of hours. They want to see our artificial insemination labs.”
“I have to get to work,” Winnie said reluctantly. She glanced at Keely. “Clark’s already gone up to Dallas for a meeting with some investors, and Mrs. Johnston’s gone shopping.”
“Bailey will protect me,” she told them, reaching down to pet the old dog.
“You won’t need protecting now,” Boone said gently. “Your father and Jock are safely behind bars at the detention center in San Antonio. They don’t lose prisoners.”
“So we hear,” Winnie had to agree. “Make sure you keep the doors locked,” she cautioned Keely.
“Of course I will,” she said, smiling. “Don’t worry. I survived a rattlesnake bite.”
“You’re tough all right,” Winnie had to admit. “I’ll be back as soon as I get off work. Take care.”
“You, too,” Keely said gently.
Winnie bent to kiss her and Boone before she left for her job. She managed to hide her heartbreak from them. She didn’t want to spoil their joy in each other.
* * *
THE HOUSE WAS very quiet, with only the two of them in it, both still in their pajamas. Boone looked at Keely with an expression she’d never seen on his face before. He got up slowly, pulled out her chair, swung her up into his arms and started for the staircase.
“Time for dessert,” he whispered, bending to her mouth.
“It was breakfast. You don’t have dessert with breakfast.”
“Yes, we do.”
He kissed her hungrily. After a few seconds, Keely forgot her protests, wrapped her good arm around his neck and kissed him back with enthusiasm. He laughed softly at her innocent eagerness, and proceeded to teach her the proper technique. By the time they got back to his room, she was ready for promotion to the next level.
He put her down long enough to close and lock the door. His high cheekbones were faintly flushed with the force of his desire. “It’s been years,” he bit off, his dark eyes blazing down into hers. “I want you.”
She was breathless, frightened, exhilarated, all at once. But those old scruples were grinding away at her.
“I know,” he said softly. “You want to wait for a ceremony. That’s weeks away.” He pulled her to him, pushed her hips against the hard thrust of his body. “Don’t make me wait,” he whispered huskily.
“Boone...” She was torn, tortured.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the jewelry box. He opened it. Inside were an emerald solitaire and an emerald-and-diamond-studded yellow-gold set of rings. “Everybody in this house knows that I intend to marry you. I’ve had this set of rings for weeks, waiting for Hayes to get enough evidence to put damned Misty and her father out of business! A piece of paper with a seal isn’t going to make that much difference. With this ring,” he said tenderly, sliding the emerald solitaire onto her ring finger, “I thee wed. The rest will come later. I love you, Keely,” he added with reverence. “I’ll love you until I die. Will you marry me?”
She could barely see the ring or him for the blur of tears. “Yes,” she whispered.
He bent and drew his lips over hers, teasing them apart, coaxing them to admit the long, slow thrust of his tongue into her mouth.
She gasped as a charge of passion as powerful as a lightning strike shook her slender body. The shock was in her eyes when she
met his.
“We begin here, now, Keely,” he said solemnly. “The first day of the rest of our lives. Let me love you.”
She was already too far gone to think of refusing him. His hands were under the gown, making nonsense of her fears about her scars. She closed her eyes, moaning softly, as his fingers smoothed expertly over the thrust of her breasts, followed in short order by his hungry mouth.
“Yes,” she whispered unsteadily. And for long, passionate minutes, she said nothing more.
He paused just long enough to protect her. “It’s too soon for babies,” he whispered against her damp breasts. “We have a lot of living to do first. Then, when we’re comfortable with each other, they’ll come naturally.”
“I love children,” she said softly.
He smiled. “So do I.”
Her arm protested when she reached up to him, but she ignored the pain. He pleasured her for a long time, until she was shivering all over with desire, pleading for an end to the anguish. At that moment, she felt him lose control. She arched up eagerly to meet the hard downward thrust of his body and tensed, crying out softly, as the barrier protested its invasion.
He hesitated, his whole body pulsing. “I hurt you,” he ground out.
“Only a little,” she whispered, because he looked as if it hurt him, too. “Don’t stop.”
“As if I could,” he managed to say. He laughed as he moved again, and then he groaned and drove for fulfillment, helpless to stop himself.
She moved with him, blind with need, pulsating with delight that grew sharper and more pleasurable with every single second. She felt him in an intimacy that she’d never dreamed possible. Her last thought was that the culmination was going to kill her. The pleasure was so intense that, at the end, she cried out in a high-pitched, keening little tone that she’d never heard torn from her throat in her lifetime.
They clung together in the aftermath. He was spent. He could hardly breathe. Under him, Keely was holding tight, biting into his muscles with her short nails, still moving helplessly against him as the pleasure ebbed and flowed in her untried body. She was only just learning that the peak wasn’t really the peak. She could feel the echoes of that intense, shattering climax happen over and over, just by moving in the right way.