Twin of Ice

  Kane grabbed her wrist and pulled her into his arms.

  Houston felt her body softening and her anger disappearing. Perhaps this was what she’d been after. She did so much like to be touched by him.

  “You smell good,” he said, nuzzling her neck, as his big body surrounded hers, protecting her, making her feel safe and unsafe at the same time.

  “You were real nice today.” He was placing little nibbling kisses along her neck. “You ain’t gonna mind bein’ married to a stableboy like me too much, are you?”

  Houston didn’t answer as she felt her knees giving way, but Kane easily held her upright as he began to make love to her left ear.

  “You were the prettiest lady there today,” he whispered, his soft breath sending chills down her legs. “And I liked carryin’ you. In fact, I’d like to carry you upstairs to my bed right now.”

  Houston was tempted to say nothing and, in truth, wondered if it was possible for her voice to work.

  “Eh-hem,” came a loud sound from the doorway.

  “Go away,” Kane said, his teeth nipping along Houston’s jawline.

  But Houston was too steeped in years of training to continue. She pushed at Kane but didn’t budge him. “Please,” she pleaded, looking into his dark eyes.

  With a look of disgust, he released her so suddenly she nearly fell.

  Mrs. Murchison stood in the doorway, holding an enormous porcelain soup tureen. As she passed Houston on the way out, she gave her shaming looks which made Houston blush.

  Trying to calm herself, Houston realized how close she’d come to blithely jumping into bed with her fiancé. But she’d promised her stepfather she’d ask questions about Kane before she married him. What if she found out he was a criminal? Would she marry him anyway? She would certainly have to if she’d been to bed with him.

  Looking at him now, as he sat on the floor opening the champagne, his jacket off, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled to the elbows and showing strong, tanned forearms, she thought perhaps she should let him make love to her, then she’d have to marry him no matter what she found out about him.

  But that would be cheating.

  Carefully arranging her skirts, she sat on the pillows across from him “I have a favor to ask of you,” she began.

  “Sure,” he said, mouth full of pâté.

  “I’d like to remain a virgin until my wedding.”

  Kane choked so badly Houston was worried about him, but he downed half a bottle of the champagne and managed to recover. “It’s nice to hear you are one,” he said at last, tears in his eyes. “I mean what with Westfield and all.”

  Houston stiffened.

  “Now, don’t go gettin’ your back up. Here, have some of this.” He held out a tulip glass of champagne. “It’s good for you. So, you want to remain a virgin, do you?” he said, as he ladled creamy oyster stew into porcelain bowls. “I guess that means you want me to keep my hands off you.”

  He was watching her in an odd way, speculatively.

  “Perhaps that would be better,” she said, thinking that if he kept touching her as he had a minute ago, she’d never stay a virgin—nor want to remain one.

  “All right,” he said and there was coldness in his voice.

  Houston’s eyes widened. No doubt he thought it was because he was once a stableboy and she thought she was better than he was. “No, please,” she began. “It’s not what you think. I—.” She couldn’t tell him what she’d promised her stepfather, or that his hands made her feel far and away from being a lady. She put her hand on his bare forearm.

  Kane moved away from her touch. “You made your point. Look, we have an agreement, a contract more or less, and I’ve been breakin’ it. You said you’d pretend we were . . . in love, I guess, in public and you’ve done that. In private you don’t have to put up with me. I’ll keep my hands off you. In fact, I think it’d be better if I left now. You stay here ’n’ eat and I’ll go to work.”

  Before Houston could move, Kane had stood and was halfway across the room.

  “Please don’t go,” she cried, leaping up to follow him, then tripping and falling on her long skirts.

  He caught her before she hit the hard floor but swiftly released her once she was steadied.

  “I didn’t mean to insult you,” she began. “It’s not that I don’t like your touch,” she began, then stopped, blushed, and looked at her hands. “I mean I . . . It’s just that I never . . . And I would like to remain . . . If possible,” she concluded, looking up at him.

  Kane was staring at her quite hard. “You don’t make no sense. You want me to keep my hands off or what? All I asked for in this marriage was a lady in public. In private, this house is big enough you don’t even have to look at my ugly face. It’s your choice, lady.”

  A lady must be positive, Houston remembered from school. She put her chin in the air and her shoulders back. “I want to be your wife in private as well as in public, but I also want to remain a virgin until the wedding.”

  “Well, who’s stoppin’ you?” Kane glared at her. “Am I haulin’ you upstairs by your hair? Am I forcin’ you into my bed?”

  “No, but you are a persuasive asker, Mr. Taggert,” she shot back at him, then put her hand to her mouth.

  Understanding lit Kane’s eyes. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said, with wonder in his voice. “Who would a thought? Oh well, maybe ladies like stableboys. Come on and sit down and eat,” he said jovially. “A good asker, am I?” He grinned as she sat down across from him.

  With all her heart, Houston wished she’d never brought the subject up.

  The intimate little dinner Houston’d planned turned into controlled chaos. Edan came in before the soup was finished and handed Kane papers he had to read and sign. Kane invited him to eat with them, and they proceeded to talk business throughout the meal.

  Houston silently watched the sun set through the long windows. Mrs. Murchison went in and out bearing great quantities of delicious food, which were consumed down to the last crumb.

  Kane kept giving the woman compliments, which ranged from a mumbled “damned good” to, when she brought in an enormous baked Alaska, asking her to run away with him and live in sin. Mrs. Murchison giggled and blushed like a schoolgirl.

  Houston, remembering the cook’s remark that she was cooking all Mr. Kane’s favorite foods, said, “What are your favorite foods, Mr. Taggert?”

  He looked at her over the top of some papers. “Anything that tastes good and that includes pretty ladies.”

  With pinkened cheeks, Houston looked away.

  At nine o’clock she rose. “I must leave now. Thank you so much for the dinner, Mr. Taggert.” She really didn’t think he’d notice whether she was there or not.

  Kane caught the hem of her dress. “You can’t leave yet. I want to talk to you.”

  Without yanking her skirt away, she couldn’t leave, so she stood still, looking at a wall panel over the heads of the two men seated at her feet.

  “I think I’m the one who should go,” Edan said, beginning to gather papers.

  “We ain’t done yet,” Kane said.

  “Don’t you think you should spend a little time alone with your bride?” Edan asked pointedly. “I’ll tell Mrs. Murchison to go home.” He stood. “Houston, thank you for dinner. I enjoyed it very much.” Edan left the room, closing the door behind him.

  Houston didn’t move, but stood just where she was, not looking down at him.

  He tugged on her skirt a few times, but when she didn’t respond, he stood and looked at her. “I think you’re mad at me.”

  Houston looked away. “That’s utterly ridiculous. It’s quite late, Mr. Taggert, and I must go home. My parents will be worried.”

  Kane put his hand on her cheek, cupping her face. “It was real nice of you to fix up this dinner with the candles an’ all.”

  “I’m glad you were pleased. Now I must—.”

  He pulled her into his arms. “All night I’ve been
thinkin’ about what you said, about how I could talk you into things,” he said, his lips against her neck.

  “Please don’t,” she said, ineffectually pushing at him.

  He moved his hand up to her carefully arranged hair, buried his fingers in it and slowly began to work his way through. Her thick, soft hair fell about her shoulders and Kane ran the fingers of both his hands through it.

  “Pretty,” he murmured, looking at her, their faces very close. The next moment he tilted her head to the side and began to kiss her in a way that made her feel as if she were dissolving. He played with her lips, pulling the lower one out with his teeth, touching the tip of his tongue to her lip.

  Houston stood still as waves of feeling coursed through her body. Then, with abandon, she put her arms about his neck and pressed her body against his. Kane reacted instantly, pulling her close, bending her to fit the planes of his big body.

  When he began to bend his knees and descend to the carpet and pillows, Houston didn’t even consider protesting, but clung to him as if he were a life-giving force. His lips never left hers as they lay side by side on the carpet.

  Kane ran his hand down her hip and thigh as his mouth travelled down her neck.

  “Kane,” she whispered, her head back, her leg pressed between his.

  “Yes, sweetheart, I’m here,” he whispered, his voice sending chills down her body.

  His hand pulled her dress up to explore her legs, quickly finding the bare expanse of thigh above her gartered stockings and under her long, loose drawers.

  Houston had no mind, no thoughts at all, but only felt the heavenly sensations of his hand on her skin, his lips on her face. Instinctively, she moved closer to him, wedged her leg between his even tighter.

  With a groan, Kane pushed her away, lay beside her, looking at her for just a second, then stood.

  “Get up,” he said coldly and walked away, his back to her as he looked out the dark window.

  Houston felt dirty, humiliated, cheated, as she lay on the rug, her skirts hiked about her waist. Swift tears came to her eyes as she slowly stood and tried to regain her composure.

  “Go fix your hair,” Kane said, not turning around. “Fix your hair and I’ll take you home to your mother.”

  As quickly as she could, Houston fled the room, her hand to her mouth to prevent a sob coming out.

  The two bathrooms downstairs were off the kitchen and in Kane’s office. She didn’t want to risk seeing either Edan or Mrs. Murchison so she ran upstairs to a bath near Kane’s bedroom.

  Once inside the marble-covered room, she gave herself over to tears. He’d wanted to marry a lady, and he was disgusted that she’d acted like a harlot. Yet this was what Blair had meant when she’d said she saw sparks when Leander kissed her. Never had Lee’s kisses made her feel anything, but Kane’s . . .

  She looked at herself in the mirror, her eyes alive and sparkling, her mouth slightly swollen, her cheeks pink, her hair wild about her shoulders. This was not the lady he’d wanted. No wonder he pushed her away from him.

  Again, the tears began to flow.

  As soon as Houston left the drawing room, Kane made his way to his office, where Edan sat behind the desk, his nose in a pile of papers.

  “Houston leave?” Edan asked absently. When Kane didn’t answer, the blond man looked up to see Kane, with shaking hands, pour himself a water glass half full of whiskey.

  “What have you done to her?” Edan asked, barely concealed anger in his voice. “I told you she wasn’t like other women.”

  “What the hell do you know about her? And you should damn well ask what she’s done to me. I want you to hitch up her buggy and take her home.”

  “What happened?”

  “Women!” Kane said in disgust. “They never act the way they’re supposed to. There’s only one reason why I ever wanted to marry a lady and—.”

  “Fenton again,” Edan said tiredly.

  “You’re damned right, Fenton!” Kane half shouted. “Everything I’ve ever done, all I’ve ever worked for, I’ve done in order to repay Fenton for what he did to me. All those years of work, the years I spent scrapin’, I had one dream and that was that someday he’d come to dinner at my house. My house would be four times the size of his and sittin’ at the foot of the table would be my wife, the woman he once denied me, his precious daughter Pamela.”

  “But you’ve had to make do with another woman,” Edan said. “Isn’t Houston to your liking?”

  Kane took a deep drink of his whiskey. “She puts on a damn good act,” he said. “She must want my money real bad.”

  “And what if she’s not after your money? What if she wants a husband, children?”

  Kane shrugged. “She can get ’em later. All I want is to show up Fenton. I want to sit in my own dinin’ room with one of those Chandlers there as my wife.”

  “And what do you plan to do with Houston after this dinner? She’s not a pair of shoes that you can throw away.”

  “I’m buyin’ her some jewelry. She can keep it and, if I can’t find a buyer, I’ll give her this house.”

  “Just like that?” Edan asked. “You’re going to tell her to go away, that you’re through with her?”

  “She’ll be glad to get rid of me.” He finished the whiskey. “And I don’t have time for a woman in my life. Take her home, will you?” With that, he left the room.

  Chapter 10

  Houston cried herself to sleep that night. Her confusion was what made her so miserable. Most of her life she’d lived under the rule of her stepfather, and Duncan Gates had rigid ideas of what a lady should and should not do. Houston had always tried to live up to his ideas. Any time she’d broken rules she’d done so in secret.

  With Leander, she’d conducted herself with absolute restraint. He needed a lady for a wife and Houston had become that lady. In public and in private, she’d been a lady. Her conduct was always perfect.

  Yet Leander had actually wanted someone who was far and away from being a lady. The words he’d said about how wonderful Blair was were burned on her heart.

  And then Kane came along, so different from Lee, with none of Lee’s polish, none of Lee’s sense of self-worth. But Kane’d wanted a lady, and when she wasn’t one . . .

  She’d never forget the look of disgust on his face after she’d rolled about on the floor with him.

  How could she please a man? She’d thought Lee wanted a lady, but he hadn’t. She had thought she’d learned from that experience that what men really wanted was a woman of passion. But Kane didn’t. He wanted a lady.

  The more she thought, the more she cried.

  Later in the day, when Blair came to Houston’s room, she saw her sister’s red, swollen eyes and slipped into bed with her. For a while they didn’t speak, but Houston began crying again.

  “Is your life so awful?” Blair asked.

  Sniffling, Houston nodded against Blair’s shoulder.

  “Taggert?” Blair asked.

  Again Houston nodded. “I don’t know what he wants from me.”

  “Anything he can get, most likely,” Blair said. “You don’t have to marry him. No one’s forcing you to. If you’d make it clear that you want Leander, I think you could get him back.”

  “Leander wants you,” Houston said, sitting up.

  “He only wants me because I gave him what you wouldn’t,” Blair said. “Houston, you love Leander. Heaven only knows why, but you do, you have for years. Think what marriage to him would mean. You could live in the house he built for you, have your children and—.”

  “No,” Houston said, taking a handkerchief from a bedside drawer. “Leander belongs to you in a way he never belonged to me. He’d much rather have you.”

  “No, he wouldn’t! You don’t know what you’re saying. He doesn’t like me at all. This morning at the hospital he said I was a puppet-doctor, that I did more harm than good and—.” She buried her face in her hands.

  “Maybe he doesn’t like your doctor
ing but he loves your kisses,” Houston said angrily. “Oh, Blair, I am sorry. I’m just tired and upset. Perhaps it’s nerves before the wedding.”

  “What did Taggert do to you?”

  “Nothing,” Houston said, hiding her face in the handkerchief. “He’s always been more than honest with me. I think perhaps I lie to myself.”

  “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  “I don’t know. I have work to do,” she said as she got out of the bed. “There’s so much to do to get ready for the wedding.”

  “You’re still going to marry him?” Blair asked softly.

  “If he’ll have me,” Houston whispered, her back to her sister. After last night, Houston thought, he may have changed his mind, and the prospect of life without Kane’s moods—as well as his kisses—made a barren-looking future. She pictured herself sitting quietly in a rocker with her crochet hook.

  “Do you want to help me with the wedding arrangements?” Houston asked, turning back to her sister. “Or would you rather leave everything to me?”

  “I don’t want to even think of marriage, not mine to Leander, and especially not yours to Taggert. Lee’s just angry about what happened and I’m sure that if you—.”

  “Leander and I are dead to each other!” Houston snapped. “Can’t I make you see that? Lee wants you, not me. It’s Kane . . . ” She turned away. “I’m going to marry Mr. Taggert in ten days.”

  Blair jumped out of the bed. “You may think that you failed with Leander, but you didn’t. And you don’t have to punish yourself with that overbearing oaf. He can’t even handle a plate of food, much less—.”

  Blair stopped because Houston slapped her across the face.

  “He’s the man I’m going to marry,” Houston said, anger in her words. “I’ll not let you or anyone else denigrate him.”

  With her hand to her cheek, Blair’s eyes filled with tears. “What I’ve done is coming between us,” she whispered. “No man anywhere means more than sisters,” she said before leaving the room.

  For a moment, Houston sat on the bed. She wanted to comfort Blair but didn’t know how. What was Kane doing to her that would make her slap her own sister?