Diana Palmer - Harden

“You aren’t?”

She smiled. “I’m the image of my mother’s mother. She was pretty, of course…”

“What do you think you are, the Witch of Endor?” he asked on a hard laugh. He glanced at her while they stopped for a traffic light. “My God, you’re devastating. Didn’t anyone ever tell you?”

“Well, no,” she stammered.

“Not even your husband?”

“He liked fair women with voluptuous figures,” she blurted out.

“Then he should have married one,” he said shortly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I’m flat-chested,” she said without thinking.

Which was a mistake, because he immediately glanced down at her bodice with a raised eyebrow that spoke volumes. “Somebody ought to tell you that men have varied tastes in women. There are a few who prefer women without massive…bosoms,” he murmured when he saw her expression. “And you aren’t flat-chested.”

She swallowed. He made her feel naked. She folded her arms over her chest and stared out the window again.

“How long were you married?” he asked.

“Well…four months,” she confessed.

“Happily?”

“I don’t know. He seemed so different before we married. And then I got pregnant and he was furious. But I wanted a baby so badly.” She had to take a breath before she could go on. “I’m twenty-five. He was the first man who ever proposed to me.”

“I can’t believe that.”

“Well, I didn’t always look like this,” she said. “I’m nearsighted. I wear contact lenses now. I took a modeling course and learned how to make the most of what I had. I guess it worked, because I met Tim at the courthouse while I was researching and he asked me out that same night. We only went together two weeks before we got married. I didn’t know him, I guess.”

“Was he your first man?”

She gasped. “You’re very blunt!”

“You know that already.” He lit a cigarette while he drove. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” she muttered, glaring at him. “But it’s none of your business.”

“Any particular reason why you waited until marriage?”

The glare got worse. “I’m old-fashioned and I go to church!”

He smiled. It was a genuine smile, for once, too. “So do I.”

“You?”

“Never judge a book by its cover,” he murmured. His pale eyes glanced sideways and he laughed.

She shook her head. “Miracles happen every day, they say.”

“Thanks a lot.” He stopped at another red light. “Which way from here?”

She gave him directions and minutes later, he pulled up in front of the small apartment house where she lived. It was in a fairly old neighborhood, but not a bad one. The house wasn’t fancy, but it was clean and the small yard had flowers.

“There are just three apartments,” she said. “One upstairs and two downstairs. I planted the flowers. This is where I lived before I married Tim. When he…died, Sam and Joan insisted that I stay with them. It’s still hard to go in there. I did a stupid thing and bought baby furniture—” She stopped, swallowing hard.

He cut off the engine and got out, opening the door. “Come on. I’ll go in with you.”

He took her arm and guided her to the door, waiting impatiently while she unlocked it. “Do you have a landlady or landlord?”

“Absentee,” she told him. “And I don’t have a morals clause,” she added, indicating her evening gown. “Good thing, I guess.”

“You aren’t a fallen woman,” he reminded her.

“I know.” She unlocked the door and let him in. The apartment was just as she’d left it, neat and clean. But there was a bassinet in one corner of the bedroom and a playpen in its box still sitting against the dividing counter between the kitchen and the dining room. She fought down a sob.

“Come here, little one,” he said gently, and pulled her into his arms.

She was rigid at first, until her body adjusted to being held, to the strength and scent of him. He was very strong. She could feel the hard press of muscle against her breasts and her long legs. He probably did a lot of physical work around his ranch, because he was certainly fit. But his strength wasn’t affecting her nearly as much as the feel of his big, lean hands against her back, and the warmth of his arms around her. He smelled of delicious masculine cologne and tobacco, and her lower body felt like molten liquid all of a sudden.

His fingers moved into the hair at her nape and their tips gently massaged her scalp. She felt his warm breath at her temple while he held her.

Tears rolled down her cheeks. She hadn’t really cried since the accident. She made up for it now, pressing close to him innocently for comfort.

But the movement had an unexpected consequence, and she felt it against her belly. She stiffened and moved her hips demurely back from his with what she hoped was subtlety. All the same, her face flamed with embarrassment. Four brief months of marriage hadn’t loosened many of her inhibitions.

Harden felt equally uncomfortable. His blood had cooled somewhat with age, and he didn’t have much to do with women. His reaction to Miranda shocked and embarrassed him. Her reaction only made it worse, because when he lifted his head, he could see the scarlet blush on her face.

“Thanks again for looking after me last night,” she said to ease the painful silence. Her hands slid around to his broad chest and rested there while she looked up into pale, quiet eyes in a face like stone. “I won’t see you again?” she asked.

He shook his head. “It wouldn’t be wise.”

“I suppose not.” She reached up hesitantly and touched his beautiful mouth, her fingertips lingering on the full, wide lower lip. “Thank you for my life,” she said softly. “I’ll take better care of it from now on.”

“See that you do.” He caught her fingers. “Don’t do that,” he said irritably, letting her hand fall to her side. He moved back, away from her. “I have to go.”

“Yes, well, I won’t keep you,” she managed, embarrassed all over again. She hadn’t meant to be so forward, but she’d never felt as secure with anyone before. It amazed her that such a sweeping emotion wouldn’t be mutual. But he didn’t look as if he even liked her, much less was affected by her. Except for that one telltale sign…

She went with him to the door and stood framed in the opening when he went out onto the porch.

He turned, his eyes narrow and angry as he gazed down at her. She looked vulnerable and sad and so alone. He let out a harsh breath.

“I’ll be all right, you know,” she said with false pride.

“Will you?” He moved closer, his stance arrogant, his eyes hot with feeling. His body throbbed as he looked at her. His gaze slid to her mouth and he couldn’t help himself. He wanted it until it was an obsession. Reluctantly he caught the back of her neck in his lean hand and tilted her face as he bent toward her.

Her heart ran wild. She’d wanted his kiss so much, and it was happening. “Harden,” she whispered helplessly.

“This is stupid,” he breathed, but his mouth was already on hers even as he said it, the words going past her parted lips along with his smoky breath.

She didn’t even hesitate. She slid her arms up around his neck and locked her hands behind his head, lifting herself closer to his hard, rough mouth. She moaned faintly, because the passion he kindled in her was something she’d never felt. Her legs trembled against his and she felt the shudder that buffeted him as his body reacted helplessly to her response.

He felt it and moved back. He dragged his mouth away from hers, breathing roughly as he looked down into her dazed eyes. “For God’s sake!” he groaned.

He pushed her back into the apartment and followed her, elbowing the door shut before he reached for her again.