BEVERLY BARTON - Nothing But Trouble

“You didn’t have to come running over here to protect me,” Tallie said, planting her hands on her hips. “I was about to sic Solomon on him.”

“Stay out of this, Tallie,” Peyton told her.

“Stay out of this?” Tallie noticed Spence coming up behind his brother, followed by Pattie and Donna Fields.

“Need any help, Peyt?” Spence asked.

“I think I can handle this,” Peyton said. “What do you think, Miller?”

“I think I ain’t fool enough to take on two men.” Eric turned, his heavy-lidded eyes resting on Tallie. “Next time, I’ll wait for a more private spot to sweet-talk you.”

When Peyton reached for Miller, Tallie ran between the two men. “Go on, Eric, get out of here!”

“Ain’t that sweet. You’re worried I’ll bloody up pretty boy’s face,” Miller said.

“No, I’m afraid Peyt will knock your brains out and get arrested for murder.” Tallie grabbed Peyton’s clenched fist. “Let him go.”

With a grin on his fleshy, blotched face, Miller walked off, swaying slightly as he made his way toward the parking lot.

Grabbing Tallie by the arm, Peyton pulled her down the walkway, away from the small crowd of onlookers, including Donna, Spence and Pattie. Following along peacefully, Solomon sniffed the air.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Tallie jerked away from him just as they rounded the corner of the concession stand.

Peyton moved toward her, his gaze riveted to her face. He shoved her up against the back wall of the concession stand and splayed his hands out on each side of her head as he glared down at her. “What the hell am I supposed to do with you?” His voice shook. His hands trembled.

“That wasn’t my fault,” Tallie said. “Besides, I didn’t ask for your help. It was Pattie’s idea to tell you what was happening. Solomon and I had everything under control.” She peered around Peyton to where her dog sat a few feet away, sniffing the trash cans. “Just as soon as the trial is over, I’ll never ask for your help again.”

“Is that right? Are you going to be able to stay out of trouble with three men in this county ready to do you bodily harm? Cliff Nolan wouldn’t hesitate to beat the hell out of you, that goon Miller seems the type quite capable of rape and there’s not a doubt that Lobo Smothers would kill you or anyone else who gets in his way.”

“I’ve got a gun. I’ve got a dog. I’ll take care of myself. It’s not like anything is actually going to happen to me, you know.”

“Are you stupid, woman? Dammit, you are. Nolan, Miller and Smothers are all dangerous men. You need a keeper. Your brothers knew that when they asked me to watch out for you.”

“I do not need a keeper!”

Gripping her shoulders tightly, Peyton gave her a sound shake. Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead and upper lip. He wanted to break her in half. He wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled. He wanted to turn her over his knee and spank her until she promised to behave herself. But more than anything, he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss the breath out of her. The very thought of anything happening to Tallie scared the hell out of him.

“Promise me that you won’t go near Cliff Nolan’s family or get yourself involved in any scheme to try to catch Lobo Smothers. And if Eric Miller comes near you again, call Lowell Redman immediately.”

It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to throw herself into Peyton’s arms and ask him to hold her. She could sense the anger inside him, but she sensed something else, too. He was afraid for her, genuinely afraid.

“I will be on my best behavior from now until the trial. I promise.” She couldn’t bear to think she might be the cause of any negative publicity for Peyton. After all, the very fact that he was representing her at her trial would probably make the newspapers, at least locally. She didn’t want to do anything else that might create problems for him if he did decide to run for governor.

Peyton eased his hold on her shoulders. He should release her immediately, but damn, he couldn’t let her go. Not yet. Touching Tallie was a mistake. He knew better. Just the feel of her tense little shoulders beneath his big hands aroused him. His mind had told him over and over again how wrong he and Tallie were for each other. Unfortunately, his body had ideas of its own. But he couldn’t allow his lust for her to overrule his common sense. She was ten years too young for him. Her brothers were his friends. He didn’t dare let her know how he felt or she’d jump to all the wrong conclusions. No sir, he wasn’t about to take advantage of Tallie when all he wanted from her was sexual release.

“Try to stay out of trouble, will you, for both our sakes?” Stepping away from Tallie, Peyton dropped his hands to his sides. His stomach tightened into knots when he looked at her. Those big, pale brown eyes, that full, pouty mouth, that stubborn little chin. Damn, why couldn’t he feel this way when he looked at Donna?

“I never mean to cause trouble for you, Peyt.”

“I know, Tallie. I know.”

“I guess you’d better get back to your date and let Spence and Pattie watch the rest of the ball game,” Tallie said.

“I suppose you’re right.” Turning around, Peyton hesitated before walking away from her.

“Oh, Peyt.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

“I like Donna. She’s a very nice lady. She’s just perfect for you.”

“Yeah, you’re right. She is perfect for me,” Peyton said. She’s everything I could want in a wife. There’s only one problem. She doesn’t turn me inside out the way you do, little heathen.

Tallie watched Peyton walk away, back to where Donna stood by the bleachers waiting for him. He was where he belonged—with a woman he could be proud of, a woman his intellectual and social equal, a woman who could help his political career, not rip it to shreds.

Sprawled out in the fat, navy-blue leather chair, Peyton sat alone in his Jackson apartment, a glass of Scotch in one hand, a half-smoked cigar in the other. He’d taken Donna home forty-five minutes earlier, after making a total fool of himself by coming on to her. She’d gently but forcefully told him that they were not going to have sex. He supposed he should be grateful to her for having more sense about the matter than he did, but damned if he could, considering his state of arousal. It had been quite some time since he’d been with a woman. In the past, his casual relationships with women had afforded him protected and uncomplicated sex. Donna was a different matter. She’d told him in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t about to play stand-in for another woman. When he’d told her there was no other woman, she’d laughed in his face.

Donna was a smart lady. Too damned smart. She’d figured out right away that his interest in Tallie Bishop was a lot more than big brother protector. Of course, he had denied that wanting Tallie and knowing he couldn’t have her kept him in a state of sexual frustration most of the time.

During the past ten years, he’d been able to keep his desire for Tallie under control, first by telling himself she was just a kid, and then by making sure he always had a willing bed partner in his life. But things had changed in the last few years. Tallie wasn’t a kid any longer, and his bed partners had, by his own choice, become few and far between.

The problem was that he wanted Tallie, but he didn’t dare allow himself to love her. Although she’d make most any man a good wife, Peyton couldn’t see Tallie as first lady of the state. She wasn’t the kind of woman who’d make a good political partner. No, Tallulah Bankhead Bishop might be the sweetest, prettiest, most desirable woman he’d ever known, but she wasn’t suited to the kind of life-style he’d chosen for himself.