“No, I wasn’t after revenge, though I wanted him to think so. I’m far too guilty myself to have any right to take revenge. But the way things were when I left…honey, you have no idea how bitter and violent it had become. I wanted to come back home, and I knew the only way I could do it was from a position of power. I didn’t want to simply live in the area again; I wanted to be accepted, to be a part of what I’d had before, when I was too young and too hotheaded to appreciate it.”
“And if you’d told me all of that, you thought I’d still ruin it for you?” she asked, blinking back tears.
He cupped her cheek in his palm, his fingers caressing her jaw. “Don’t cry,” he murmured. “I told you, I’m out of the habit of trusting people. I’ve spent a lot of time in dives and jungles and back alleys that—well, never mind. But, damn it, you know I never planned for you to be the one to sell! I never thought he’d dump it all on your shoulders, but he’s a smart bastard, I’ll say that for him. His idea almost worked. If I’d known that you were the one being beaten down, I’d have stopped on the spot. It was your own stubbornness in not telling me that kept things going for so long, that gave me enough time to buy the stock I needed.”
“Along with my vote,” she reminded him thinly.
“Yes, along with your vote.” He watched her intently, reading the myriad expressions as they flitted across her lovely face. She looked incredibly sexy, he noticed, with her hair all tousled and her eyes still heavy-lidded, her skin softly flushed from sleep. The dark shadows were gone from beneath her eyes, and the soft curves of her breasts shone beneath the thin silk of her nightgown, with her small nipples pushing against the fabric in an enticing manner that made him want to lean forward and take them into his mouth, silk and all. He felt it again, that punch in his chest, and he realized anew that she lit his life like an eternal candle, pure and white. If that serene flame ever went out he’d be doomed to darkness for the rest of his life.
“I was wrong not to trust you,” he said softly. His voice went even quieter, so deep that it rumbled in his chest. “I knew that you loved me, and it was almost too much for me to believe. I was afraid to believe. My God, Susan, don’t you know? Don’t you have any idea what you do to people? Everywhere I turned, there were people falling all over themselves to please you, to get you to smile at them, to have your attention for just a little while. Even Imogene would fight her weight in wildcats for you! If I’d let myself believe that sweetness was all mine, then found out that it wasn’t, I couldn’t have handled it. I had to protect myself by not letting you get too close.”
Susan stared at him, bewildered by his words. “People fall all over themselves for me? What do you mean?”
She truly didn’t know, he realized, had never noticed the effect her radiant smile had on people, or the almost inevitable softening that crossed their faces whenever they talked to her. My God, he had a treasure that men would fight for, possibly kill for, and she didn’t even know her own power, which he supposed was part of her elusive, but hauntingly sweet charm.
“Never mind,” he told her gently. She wouldn’t believe him even if he told her. “The important thing is, do you love me enough to forgive me?”
“I have to,” she replied obliquely, but the truth was plain in her eyes. She had to forgive him, because when she searched down to the deepest recesses of her heart, she loved him too much not to forgive him anything.
Very tenderly, he reached out and caught her waist, drawing her out of her tangle of covers and pulling her atop him, resting her weight on his chest. “I’m glad,” he said gravely, his diamond-eyes so close that she could see her own reflection in the dilated blackness of his pupils. “Because I love you so much that I think I’d go crazy if you sent me away.”
Susan’s eyes widened, and her heart gave a great bound, then resumed beating with thuds that hammered against the delicate cage of her ribs. “I…what?”
“I said, I love you,” he repeated, sliding his hands up her back in a slow, heated caress. She quivered, tried to speak, but her trembling lips couldn’t form the words, and instead she gave up and dropped her head to his shoulder, her hands holding tightly to him. He folded her to him, pressing her soft, deliciously feminine body against his. Sudden tears, hot and acid, burned his eyes. He’d almost lost her, almost let her love slip away from him, and the thought tormented him.
“I love you,” he said again, this time whispering the words into the dark cloud of her hair. The searing tears slid down his hard, sun-browned cheeks, but he wasn’t aware of them. His world had narrowed to the wonder he held in his arms, the slim, delicate body that held such sweetness and gallantry, such an endless capacity for love, that he was staggered by it.
Susan drew a little away from him, her heart stopping when she saw the wet tracks on his face, and in that moment she knew beyond doubt that he loved her. He was looking at her with a deep, consuming love that he made no effort to hide. The last of his bitterness was drained away in the salt of his tears, the last grief and guilt he felt for Judith. She put her cheek against his, rubbing the wetness away.
Knowing that she would never refuse him, that what they felt burning between them needed to be consummated, had to be sanctified by their union, he rolled and deftly placed her beneath him, his legs parting her thighs. He rose to his knees and lifted her nightgown, then drew it over her head. After tossing it away, he regarded her slim beauty for a moment, then let his weight down on her. He kissed her fiercely, then drew back with masculine satisfaction stamped on his bearded features. “I’m going to marry you.”
Again shock reverberated through Susan, but now it was a joyous shock, as at last she began to believe what was happening to her. She looked up at him, and suddenly a smile curved her lips. Just like that; it wasn’t a proposal, a question, but a statement. He was going to marry her, and she’d better not try to argue with him about it!
“Yes,” she said, then caught her breath as he entered her. Her moistly yielding body accepted him without difficulty, the sweet honey of her flesh welcoming him. He moved against her, probing slowly, and he groaned aloud in pleasure.
Then he raised himself on his elbow to look down at her, his gaze burning with desire. “It might be a good idea if we get married as soon as possible,” he murmured. “After the night in the Blazer, you could well be pregnant.”
“I know.” She slid her hands over his shoulders to his neck, and smiled up at him. “I hope so.”
An answering smile touched his lips. “Just to be on the safe side, let’s do it again.” He kissed her again; then their bodies began to move in unison, with a passion that was wild and tender and sanity-destroying, their love binding them together with an electrically charged force field of devotion. What had begun with a dance on a crowded ballroom floor had become a sensual dance of love, sanctified by the tears of a hard man who’d had to learn how to cry.
Epilogue
Cord lay heavily on her, sweetly limp after the whirlwind of their lovemaking. Susan nibbled on his shoulder, and he put his hand in her hair to pull her head up. He began kissing her again, slow, drugging kisses that lit the fires between them again, fires that burned higher and hotter than ever after a year of marriage. Just as he began moving within her, a faint, fretful cry caught their attention, a cry that quickly escalated into an all-out bellow.
He cursed luridly as he slid off of her. “She’s got the most incredible timing!” he grumbled as he stalked naked from the room, outrage evident in every line of his powerful body.
Susan pulled the sheet up over her nude body; she was cool without the heat of him next to her. A slow, gentle smile touched her lips as she envisioned the scene in the next room. Cord might grumble and grouse, but he’d melt as soon as he set eyes on his tiny daughter, who had just learned how to blow bubbles. As soon as she saw her father, she’d stop her bellowing, and her arms and legs would go into overtime as her entire body wriggled in delight. She’d treat him to her entire repertoire of
accomplishments, from kicking to blowing bubbles, and he’d be lost in adoring admiration. Alison Marie was a four-month-old tyrant, and she had Cord wrapped completely around her dainty finger.
It was a good thing they’d gotten married so swiftly, because within a month it had become evident that Susan was indeed pregnant. Cord had teased her before Alison had been born, insisting that if the baby were a girl, he was going to name her Storm, and if it were a boy, it had to be called Blazer. She’d been a little worried at how he would accept fatherhood, but she’d worried over nothing. No man could have been more delighted over his child.
She prepared herself to nurse the baby, and in a moment Cord came back into the bedroom, cradling Alison in the curve of his strong arm and crooning to her as her plump little hands waved in the air, trying to catch his beard. “We’re going to have to trade her in for a model that doesn’t leak,” he said, getting back in bed, still holding Alison, while Susan stuffed a pillow behind her back.
When she took the baby, he moved to put his arm around her, holding her so most of her weight rested on his chest. “Look at that little pig,” he drawled, as the baby latched onto the milk-swollen nipple with starving ferocity. He was fascinated by everything about her, and had been from the moment he’d known of Susan’s pregnancy.
Despite it being her first child, she’d breezed through the months with almost boring ease. She’d had little morning sickness, no cravings, and had carried the baby easily. Her biggest problem had been Cord, who had hounded her if she even tried to change a lightbulb. She had Alison with a minimum of fuss, and Cord had been there to hold his daughter, who weighed in at a tiny five pounds and two ounces.
Now his big hand touched the small, round head, smoothing the black curls that covered it. She opened her eyes briefly, revealing pale blue irises surrounded by a ring of darker blue. She was his image, and he adored her. But the delights of her mother’s breast occupied her at the moment, and she closed her eyes again, suckling vigorously.
Soon she slept again, and Susan’s nipple slipped from the relaxed rosebud mouth. “I’m going to have to wean her soon,” she sighed.
“Why?”
“She’s starting to teethe.”
He laughed softly, sprawling naked on the bed. “Dangerous, huh?”
“Extremely.” She carried Alison back to the nursery, and stood for a moment holding the infinitely precious little bundle in her arms. The baby grunted as she was placed on her stomach, but a tightly curled fist brushed her mouth and she latched onto it in her sleep, sucking noisily on her knuckles.
He was waiting for her when she came back into their bedroom, and he drew her back down into his embrace. Susan curled against him, placing her head on the broad, hairy chest. Being married to him was better than she’d dreamed, because she’d never thought that her restless renegade would have been so content.
He and Preston had reached a truce, a working relationship that allowed peace between them. Preston remained as president of the company, because his experience and ability were too good to waste. Cord’s own daring and verve had blended with Preston’s attention to detail, and together they were creating a company that was innovative but not reckless, sure-footed but not too cautious. The challenge kept Cord fascinated, and at night he came back to her arms, which was all she’d ever asked of heaven.
He reached out and clicked off the lamp, yawning in the sudden darkness. He settled her in his arms, in their sleeping position, and she nuzzled her mouth against his flesh. Just as she’d dreamed months ago, sleeping with him every night was deeply satisfying. They talked in the darkness, sharing the things that had happened to them during the day, planning what they wanted to do together. His hand moved lazily over her soft body, then found her breasts and became more obvious in his attentions.
“Susan? Do you think she’ll wake up this time?”
Susan laughed, winding her arms around his neck. Her beloved desperado, her darling renegade, still swept her away into his dark, magic world of love.
ISBN: 978-1-4592-0399-0
TEARS OF THE RENEGADE
Copyright © 1985 by Linda Howington
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and TM are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Trade Marks Office and in other countries.
www.eHarlequin.com
Linda Howard, Tears of the Renegade
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends