Читать книгу Hard Lovin' Man - Peggy Moreland, Peggy Moreland - Страница 9

Lacey wasn’t sure who she was madder at. Travis for making a pass at her, or herself for being tempted by it.

She quickly decided it was Travis who deserved her anger.

“Of all the nerve,” she muttered darkly as she stalked down the long hall in search of Mandy. Imagine him making a move like that, and after she’d been nice enough to doctor his wounds for him, too. And he’d called his brother crazy. She snorted in disgust. In her opinion, Travis was the one with the mental problem.

She stopped at the door one of the guests had directed her to, and drew in a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down before she stepped inside for the long-awaited meeting with her half sisters.

Mandy rose with a sigh of relief from behind a massive desk. “I was afraid you’d given up on us and left.”

Feigning nonchalance, Lacey lifted a shoulder. “Thought about it.” Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a movement and glanced over to find Merideth and Sam sitting on the couch. Sam smiled at her. Merideth, her lips pursed in displeasure, merely lifted a neatly arched brow.

Mandy gestured toward a wingback chair placed at an angle to both the sofa and the desk. “Please, have a seat.”

Feeling much like she had at the age of twelve when she’d been called to the principal’s office for putting a frog in Elizabeth Conners’s lunchbox, Lacey dropped down onto the edge of the chair and wiped damp palms down her thighs.

Mandy sat too. “I apologize for the delay, but—” She laughed and sank wearily against the chair’s back, lacing her fingers over her abdomen. “It’s been rather an unusual day.”

“You can say that again,” Lacey replied dryly.

“Why don’t you tell us about yourself,” Mandy suggested, offering a warm smile of encouragement.

“You mean, about my relationship to Lucas?”

“Well, yes,” Mandy said and shrugged self-consciously. “Naturally, we have a few questions.”

“I doubt I have any answers.”

With a humph, Merideth folded her arms across her breasts. “Some proof that you’re Lucas’s daughter would be nice.”

“Merideth!” Sam and Mandy exclaimed, mortified by her rudeness.

Their sister flung out an arm, sending the gold bangles on her wrist clinking musically as she gestured toward Lacey. “Well, how do you know she isn’t some scam artist who’s trying to steal a piece of the Double-Cross?”

Mandy gave Merideth a quelling look before turning to Lacey, her expression softening with regret. “I’m sorry, but surely you must realize how difficult this is for us all.”

Though Merideth’s comment had stung, Lacey fought back the resentment, knowing that of all the reactions her claim to be Lucas’s daughter had drawn, Merideth’s was the most logical. “No apology necessary. I’d probably want the same, if I were in y’all’s position.” She lifted her hands, palms up. “But I don’t have the proof you want. Only what my mother told me.”

Mandy leaned forward, resting her forearms on the desk. “And what was that?”

“Just that she met Lucas at a horse show when she was nineteen. I don’t know how old he would’ve been at the time, but I’m twenty-three, so you can do the math. They had an affair. A brief one. I was the by-product,” she added bitterly.

Though she would have liked nothing better than to end the explanation there, she took a deep breath and forced herself to go on, hoping that once they heard it all, they would allow her to leave in peace. “When my mother discovered she was pregnant, she contacted Lucas and demanded that he marry her. He refused. My mother had been dating another man off and on for a while, both before and after Lucas, and he agreed to marry her instead. I didn’t know until my twenty-first birthday that the man she’d married wasn’t my father.”

As she listened, Mandy puckered her brow in confusion. “Why did your mother wait until you were twenty-one to tell you the truth of your parentage?”

“She probably wouldn’t have told me then, but she had no other choice.” She sat up straighter, refusing to let the pain of Lucas’s rejection show. “Lucas didn’t want me, but he set up a trust fund for me that became mine on my twenty-first birthday.”

“You’ve known for two years that Lucas was your father?”

Lacey glanced at Sam, who had asked the question, and slowly nodded.

“So why did you wait until now to come here?” Merideth snapped peevishly.

Lacey narrowed an eye as she shifted her gaze to Merideth’s. “It took me that long to get past the hate.”

Silence hummed in the room for a full thirty seconds as the two women engaged in a stubborn staring match. Lacey was the one to break it. She turned to Mandy, her eyes darkened in anger. “My turn to ask a question. Why is it that no one, other than her,” she said, with a jerk of her head in Merideth’s direction, “seems to doubt my claim to be Lucas’s daughter?”

“I don’t doubt your claim,” Merideth cut in. “It’s your motive that I question.”

Lacey was on her feet, her eyes blazing, before Mandy or Sam could chastise their sister again for her rudeness. “If you think I’m here to claim a part of this ranch, you’re wrong.” She jammed a hand in her pocket, jerked out a folded piece of paper and slapped it on the desk in front of Mandy. “That’s my check for the twenty-five thousand Lucas put in trust for me, plus the interest it earned over the years. My only purpose in coming here today was to shove it down his throat and tell him I don’t need him or his money.”

Mandy rose, her eyes filled with compassion. “Oh, Lacey. I’m so sorry. Lucas was a—”

“Mom!” Jaime, Mandy’s son, burst into the room, his face pale, his eyes wide with fear. “Come quick. Billy fell off the top bunk and he’s bleeding really bad.”

Sam and Merideth jumped up and ran for the door, followed quickly by Jaime. Mandy snatched up the check and rounded the desk. She stopped in front of Lacey and grabbed her hand, pressing the check into it. “This is yours.”

Fighting back tears, Lacey tried to pull free. “I don’t want Lucas’s money or anything else that was his.”

Mandy forced Lacey’s fingers to curl around the check. “Believe me. I understand how you feel. But Lucas owes you a lot more than this.”

“Mom!” Jaime yelled from the hallway. “Hurry!”

Mandy squeezed Lacey’s fist between her hands. “God, I’m sorry to keep doing this to you, but Billy is one of Alayna and Jack’s children and our responsibility while they’re on their honeymoon. If you could wait for just a little while longer.”

Then she was gone, leaving Lacey alone in the office.

Lacey drew in a shaky breath as she continued to stare at her fist, still able to feel the warmth and compassion of Mandy’s hands around it. Her sister. Half sister, she corrected. She let her head loll back, closing her eyes as emotion rose to burn her throat.

Oh, God, she’d always wanted a sister, the support and love of a caring family. But why did she have to find it here, in the home of the man who had rejected her?

Gulping back the sob that threatened, she forced her eyes open…and found herself looking straight into the eyes of Lucas McCloud.

She knew it was Lucas in the portrait, though there was nothing that identified the man as such. The eyes that stared back at her were the same green as her own, the same green as Mandy’s. But the artist had captured a hardness, a coldness in his eyes that was lacking in Mandy’s…and she hoped in hers. Drawn by her first glimpse of the man who had sired her, she moved closer to the portrait.

He sat astride a stallion, black as midnight, who stood on the edge of a high cliff. Blue sky surrounded them, and nothing but sheer rock lay below. There was an arrogance, a wildness about both horse and rider, that she could almost feel. A shiver chased down her spine as she stared unblinking at the man who had shunned her.

She could see why her mother had given herself to him. He was handsome, dangerously so, and projected an image as big as the state he called home. She felt the tears burn in her throat, behind her eyes, in her nose. He’d rejected his own daughter without even knowing her, refused to give her his name when he knew full well that she was of his blood. Her fingers curled, crumpling the check within her clenched fist.

“Bastard,” she whispered. She threw the balled paper onto the desk and whirled, turning her back on Lucas McCloud as he had on her so many years before.

Mandy picked up the wad of paper from the desk and smoothed it open over her palm. “She’s gone,” she said, her voice heavy with regret as she lifted her gaze to look at her sisters. “And she left the check.”

Merideth caught her lower lip between her teeth. “It’s my fault. I was rude. Cruel.”

Sam slung an arm around her shoulders. “Nah, you were just being you.”

Merideth whipped her head around and gave Sam a scathing look. Chuckling, Sam hugged her younger sister to her side. “Ah, come on, Sis. You know you’re our balance. If left up to Mandy, we’d already be preparing the fatted calf and welcoming Lacey into the fold, while I’d be stuttering and stammering, trying to figure out what to do with her.”

Pensively, Mandy tapped the check against her palm as she rounded the desk. “Sam’s right, Merideth. It isn’t your fault. But we’ve got to find her. She’s a McCloud. There’s no questioning that.” She turned to look at her father’s portrait and drew in a ragged breath. “For whatever reason, Lucas chose to deny her.” She stared at the portrait a moment, then tore her gaze from the picture of the man who had made all his daughters’ lives a living hell, and faced her sisters. “But we’re not,” she stated firmly. “She’s family.” She drew in a deep breath. “But first we’ve got to find her.” Moving to stand before the window, she looked out at the darkness beyond, her brow furrowed. “Oh, my God!” she cried, her eyes suddenly widening.

“What is it?” Sam asked in alarm.

Mandy whirled. “She’s at the barn,” she cried, racing for the door. “Hurry! We’ve got to stop her before she leaves.”

Lacey’s horse danced nervously as she led him from the borrowed stall where Mandy’s son had placed him earlier that afternoon. “It’s okay, Buddy,” she murmured softly, tightening her grip on the lead rope. “We’re going home.”

She led him through the barn’s wide doors and out into the moonlit night. But once outside, the horse’s uneasiness seemed to increase. He reared, nearly jerking Lacey off her feet. She quickly put slack in the line, and kept her voice low and soothing as she tried to calm him. “Too much strangeness, huh, Buddy? But it’s okay now. We’re heading home.”

He snorted and tossed his head, prancing nervously around her as she slowly drew in the slack. When she was within reach, she stretched out a hand and rubbed his cheek, trying to calm him. Though he stilled, his head remained high, his ears pricked, his eyes wild and darting.

“There’s nothing out here that’s going to get you,” she soothed. “Come on, Buddy,” she urged and gave a gentle tug on the lead rope. “Let’s load you in the trailer and we’ll hit the road.”

He followed skittishly, keeping tension on the line while he danced from side to side behind her. At the rear of the trailer, Lacey paused to swing open the double doors.

And heard Mandy call out to her.

“Lacey! Wait!”

“Come on, Buddy,” she urged, panic surging through her. “In you go.”

But the horse balked, sitting back on his haunches and pulling hard against the lead. Frustrated, she slapped the end of the rope across his rump. “Come on, Buddy,” she cried, anxious to get away. “Get in there!”

At that moment, an armadillo darted from beneath the trailer and straight into the horse’s path. The gelding reared, pawing at the air, then bolted forward, while the armadillo scuttled off into the darkness. Lacey jumped sideways, trying to get out of the horse’s way, but the frightened animal slammed into her side, knocking her down. She hit the ground hard, grunting when her left hip took the brunt of the fall. With her face pressed into the dirt, she heard the dull thud of flesh hitting metal, then the horse’s scream of pain. Her heart in her throat, she clawed her way to her feet. Dragging her sleeve across her face to clear the grit and tears from her eyes, she saw her horse standing ten feet away. He was trembling, blood oozing from a long gash on his shoulder.

Her breath burned painfully in her chest. “Buddy,” she whispered brokenly. She limped slowly toward him, stooping to pick up the end of the lead rope. She straightened, lifting her hand to fist her fingers in his mane, then bent to examine the cut. “Oh, God, Buddy, what have you done?” she sobbed, and buried her face against his neck.

“Lacey.”

She felt a hand go around her shoulders while another gently pried the lead rope from her fingers. Sobbing, she was pulled into Mandy’s arms.

“He’s h-hurt,” she cried, trying to push away. “I’ve got to take care of him.”

“I know, honey,” Mandy soothed, refusing to let her go. “But Sam’s a vet. She’ll know what to do.”

It would have been so easy to cling, to let someone else take charge, to give in to the warmth and comfort she’d been denied so long. But Lacey had been taking care of herself and what was hers for too many years to relinquish the control to someone else. Especially a McCloud. She sniffed furiously and backed from Mandy’s embrace, wiping a hand beneath her nose. She turned and saw Sam kneeling beside Buddy, while Jaime stood at the horse’s head, holding the animal steady.

Gulping back the sob that threatened, she limped across the short distance that separated them and dropped to her knees beside Sam. “How bad is it?” she asked, unable to keep the trembling from her voice.

“It’s deep,” Sam replied, frowning in concentration as she smoothed a skilled hand down the horse’s leg, checking for other injuries. “But not as bad as I first thought.” She glanced up at her nephew. “Get my bag out of my truck, Jaime. And I’ll need some antibiotic. There should be a vial in the refrigerator in the barn.”

Her eyes wide with fear, Lacey watched Jaime jog away into the night. “Can I haul him?” she asked anxiously, turning back to Sam.

“I wouldn’t.”

“But I have a rodeo next weekend.”

Sam must have heard the desperation in her voice, because she spun slowly on the balls of her feet to face Lacey. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to stay off of him longer than that.”

Tears flooded Lacey’s eyes, and Sam laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Why don’t you stay here with us?” When Lacey opened her mouth to refuse, Sam squeezed. “Give him a week to heal. And a week for us to get to know you,” she added softly.

Her hands still shook a little as Lacey made the turn at the Y in the road as Mandy had directed. On the seat beside her lay the key to the cabin, the concession she’d agreed to when Mandy had refused to allow her to drive into Austin to stay in a motel. Though all three of the McCloud sisters had offered her their homes, Lacey had refused their hospitality. The thought of the intimacy required in living for a week with any one of them was more than she felt she could handle. Her emotions were too raw, and much too close to the surface. Besides, she knew they’d already divvied up Jack and Alayna’s six foster children between them and would have their hands full caring for them while the newlyweds were on their honeymoon. She didn’t want to be a burden…but more, she didn’t want to be in their debt.

She sighed wearily, thinking of Buddy bedded down in one of their stalls, of Sam tending his wound, and silently acknowledged that she was already in their debt.

Seeing the cabin ahead, she parked her truck alongside it, then grabbed her duffel bag from the seat behind her. Climbing down, she groaned as pain shot into her hip, a result of the bruised muscle she’d gained in the fall. Limping gingerly, she headed for the porch and fumbled the key into the lock. She gave the door a push and stepped inside, feeling along the wall for the light switch. After flipping it on, she looked quickly around to get her bearings, then switched it off and headed for the far door and the bedroom beyond.

Once inside the room, she dropped her bag and reached for the light switch.

“Well, hello.”

She jumped and whirled, a scream clawing its way up her throat. She nearly choked on it when she saw Travis lying in the bed, propped up on his elbows, grinning at her.

“What are you doing here?” she cried furiously.

Unconcerned, he sat up and plumped a pillow behind his head, then settled back against it. He folded his arms across his bare chest and smiled at her. “I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

“Mandy gave me the key and told me I could stay here.”

“My brother gave me a key and told me the same thing.”

She stared at him, unable to prevent her gaze from slipping to the wall of muscled chest, the bulge of biceps on his folded arms, the sheet that draped his lower body from his navel down…and wondered if he was naked beneath it. Feeling the heat staining her neck, she jerked her gaze back to his. “B-but you can’t stay here,” she stammered. “I am.”

He smiled and patted the mattress beside him. “There’s room enough for two.”

With a snort of disgust, Lacey snatched her duffel bag from the floor. “I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

“Why not?” he returned, feigning innocence. “We’re family.”

“We are not!”

“Sure we are. My brother married your cousin, so that makes us family, too.”

Infuriated by his twisted logic, she whirled for the bathroom. “I’m taking a shower, then I’m going to bed.” At the door, she stopped and turned. “On the couch,” she added tersely then slammed the door between them.

Travis heard the click of the lock, and tucked his hands behind his head, chuckling softly. Things were definitely looking up.

When he’d tried to talk to Jack again as his brother and his new wife were preparing to leave on their honeymoon, Jack had refused once again to listen to reason. Travis’s threat that he was remaining at the ranch until he was sure that Jack wasn’t making another mistake hadn’t even fazed his brother. Jack had just tossed him the key to the cabin and told him that if he was staying to make himself at home, do a little fishing and maybe do a few repairs on the old barn.

Travis’s smile broadened. Another week of his two-week vacation left to enjoy. A snug cabin, four lakes to fish and a beautiful woman to look at. Yeah, he thought smugly. Things were definitely looking up.

Lacey couldn’t sleep. Her mind churned with the day’s events and her chest ached with all the emotion bottled up inside.

A family, she kept telling herself over and over again. She had a family.

But she didn’t want another family, she argued silently, punching her pillow and bunching it beneath her cheek as she flopped over onto her side on the narrow couch. The one she’d left behind in Missouri had soured her for ever wanting another one.

The thought of her parents brought another swell of tears. All she’d ever wanted from them was their love, but they’d never been willing to give her even that. In retrospect, she could almost understand her stepfather’s coolness toward her. After all, he wasn’t her natural father, and he must have begrudged having to raise another man’s child as his own.

Lucas. Her chest tightened painfully. He’d never even given her a chance. He’d simply turned his back on her and gone on with his life as if she had never existed.

And her mother…she choked on a sob and pressed her hand over her mouth to smother it. The one person who should have loved her, didn’t. If anything, she resented Lacey. In her mother’s eyes, Lacey had robbed her of her dreams, and every time she looked at her daughter she was reminded of that loss.

It didn’t help that Lacey had succeeded where her mother had failed. A professional barrel racer, JoAnn Cline had been forced to give up her goal of winning a world championship when she’d discovered she was pregnant with Lacey. Lacey, though, without the encumbrance of a husband and children, had been free to pursue that dream, and was close, real close, to achieving her goal.

But not without Buddy.

Her lips trembled uncontrollably as her thoughts shifted to her horse and the injury he’d suffered. Without him she couldn’t compete, and she’d lose her place in the standings and her chance for Las Vegas and a shot at the world title. But worse than the loss of the title was the thought of losing her best friend. And that was what Buddy was to her. They’d been a team for six years, traveling the circuit, sometimes even sharing a rented stall when Lacey lacked the funds for a motel room. In some ways, she felt closer to him than she did to her mother or her stepfather.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to block out the disturbing thoughts.

But another, even more troubling image, slipped in to replace them.

Travis Cordell.

Even as she thought of him, the iron bed creaked in the other room, reminding her of his presence in the small cabin. She pulled the blanket to her chin, picturing him as he’d looked when she’d first discovered him in the cabin. Reared back against the headboard; that wall of muscled chest; wearing nothing but a rakish smile and a sheet draped low on his waist.

She remembered the feel of his arms around her from earlier that evening, when he’d pulled her onto his lap in the trailer, the magnetic pull of his sexy smile, the huskiness in his voice when he’d whispered his intention to make love with her on the trailer’s narrow cot.

She flopped to her opposite side and bunched the pillow beneath her cheek. She didn’t want to think about him. And she wouldn’t, she told herself firmly.

My brother married your cousin, so that makes us family.

Cousins.

Half sisters.

Nieces and nephews.

Family.

She felt the tears rising again, and was helpless to keep them back as her thoughts churned full circle once again.

Travis awakened with a start, lifting his head from his pillow to listen. Slowly, he pushed himself to an elbow and stared at the closed door from behind which the sound came.

A shiver chased down his spine as the muffled sobs that had awakened him grew louder, more desperate.

What was going on? Was she hurt? Sick? Having a nightmare?

Not my problem, he told himself and dropped back down on the mattress, pulling the pillow over his head to block out the sound. She’d made it more than clear that she didn’t want anything to do with him.

But the sobs continued, penetrating the thick down that covered his head and wearing on his nerves until he tossed the pillow aside with a growl and rolled to his feet. Muttering curses under his breath, he jerked on his jeans and stalked barefoot into the living room.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her. Sitting on the sofa, limned by moonlight, her feet drawn up beneath her, her body bent almost double, her face buried in a pillow she held fisted across her lap. He couldn’t remember ever seeing a more pitiful sight…or hearing a more heartbreaking sound.

“Lacey?” he called softly.

When she didn’t respond, he crossed the room and hunkered down in front of her, bracing his hands on her knees. “Lacey. What’s wrong?”

She jerked away from his touch, curling tighter into herself. “Leave me alone,” she sobbed, her voice muffled by the pillow she kept pressed to her face.

Though there was nothing he’d like better, try as he might, Travis discovered he couldn’t leave her. With a resigned sigh, he pushed himself to his feet, then sank down on the couch beside her, draping an arm along the back of the couch behind her. He stared at the top of her head a moment, unsure what to do, then sighed again. He dropped his hand on top of her head and scrubbed roughly. “Hey. Come on. Nothing’s that bad.”

“Go away,” she wailed.

“Nope. Not until you stop your blubbering.”

She lifted her head from the pillow to glare at him, her eyes red and swollen, tears streaming down her face. “I’ll cry if I want to.”

He cocked his head thoughtfully as if reminded of something. “Isn’t there a song that goes something like that?” He hummed a few bars and then ducked, laughing, when she swung the pillow at him.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” she cried furiously.

He sobered quickly and cleared his throat. “Sorry. I was just trying to make you laugh.”

“Well, I’m not laughing.” She jerked the pillow back to her lap, wadding it into a ball, and stubbornly turned her face away from him.

“You’re not crying, either,” he pointed out gently.

And she didn’t want to cry any more. Especially not in front of him. But the tears were there, pushing at her throat. She shook back her hair and inhaled deeply, valiantly fighting them back.

“I guess you’ve had a pretty tough day, huh?” he said, watching her carefully.

She sniffed and dashed a finger beneath her nose. “I’ve had better.”

“The McClouds seem nice enough.”

Remembering Merideth and her caustic remarks, she replied bitterly, “Most of them.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

She pressed her lips together as much in frustration as to hold back the tears. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Well, I do.”

She whirled to glare at him. “Why don’t you just go back to bed?”

“I will, if you’ll come with me.”

She snorted her opinion of his suggestion and whipped around to face the wall again.

He scooted closer. “Come on, Lacey. Why don’t you tell me what’s bothering you? Sometimes talking helps.”

He watched her chest swell and her chin quiver as she fought back the tears. But in spite of her efforts, a tear slipped over her lower lashes and slid down her cheek. Another quickly followed.

“Aw, Lace,” he said gruffly, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, hugging her hard against his side. “Don’t start crying again.”

She struggled, obviously not wanting his comfort, but he tightened his hold on her, refusing to let her go. He felt a shudder move through her and when she tried to bury her face in the pillow again, he tugged it from her hands and tossed it aside. He forced her face against his shoulder, and it was as if he’d pulled the plug on a dam. He could feel the sobs that ripped through her body, the hot tears that scalded his arm and chest…and did what he felt any man would do in his place.

Prayed the well would soon run dry.

But in spite of his prayers, the sobs continued both in intensity and volume, until they echoed in his head and reverberated through his body.

“Lacey,” he said in concern, leaning to smooth her hair from her face. “You’ve got to stop or you’re going to make yourself sick.”

But she only cried that much harder.

“Is there something I can get you? Water? Aspirin?” When she didn’t respond, he dipped his chin and turned her face up toward his. “Isn’t there anything I can do?”

The eyes that met his were flooded with tears. “H-he didn’t w-want me.”

“Lucas?”

She hiccuped a sob and nodded, then buried her face in her hands, her shoulders heaving violently.

He wrapped his arm tighter around her. “His mistake,” he said gruffly. “The guy must have been an ass.”

“M-my parents d-didn’t want me, e-either.”

“That’s not true,” he argued gently. He smoothed a hand over her hair, trying to comfort her. “All parents love their kids. There’s an unwritten law somewhere that says they have to, no matter what.”

“M-mine d-don’t,” she sobbed hysterically.

“Aw, Lacey,” he said, his voice growing husky. He drew her against his side and squeezed. “Nobody’s worth this many tears.”

If she heard him, she didn’t respond. And she sure as heck didn’t quit crying. Heaving a frustrated sigh, Travis tipped her chin up. “Come on, now. Surely there must be something that I can do to make you feel better?”

The eyes that looked up at him were flooded with tears. “H-hold m-me.”

He shook his head to clear his ears, sure that he’d misunderstood her. “Hold you?” he repeated.

Her breath hitched as she bobbed her head.

“Okay,” he said hesitantly and wrapped his other arm loosely around her, drawing her within his embrace. When he did, she threw her arms around his neck on a strangled sob, and pressed her body against his. His eyes widened in surprise at the strength, the desperation with which she clung to him. Moments ago she’d been shoving him away, demanding that he leave, and now she was clinging to him as if she was drowning and he was the only lifeboat around.

Even as he thought this, he became aware of other things. How small and fragile she felt in his arms, how defenseless, unlike the image she’d projected earlier. Tough. Independent. That I-don’t-need-anybody-and-I’m-getting-along-just-fine-on-my-own attitude that she wore so well.

In spite of his reluctance to offer her comfort, he found himself drawing her more closely within his embrace. He could feel the heat of her body pressed against his, the almost manic beat of her heart against his chest. Her tears scalded his neck, and ran down his chest.

She needed him.

And Travis never allowed anyone to get close enough to need him for anything.

He swallowed back the emotion that rose in his throat. He knew what it was like to yearn for human comfort, to need so badly it hurt, and have no one to turn to with whom to share the pain. Though his was a self-inflicted banishment, one he’d orchestrated after Jack’s first marriage, a secret that ate like a cancer at his soul, he figured that his and Lacey’s situations weren’t all that different. Neither one of them had family they could turn to.

Over the years, he’d taught himself to do without the love and support of his family, and to take what warmth and comfort he could from whatever physical relationships he became involved in. But he did so without committing himself to anything or anyone in return. As a result, he’d developed a style that other men envied. He could sweet-talk his way into a woman’s bed and out of it just as quickly, without leaving any hard feelings behind when he left. Sweet talkin’, hard lovin’ man. That’s the name he’d earned. And that’s the image he wanted to keep.

But when he slipped his hand to Lacey’s hip to shift her onto his lap, he wasn’t thinking about sex, or how he might sweet-talk this woman into his bed. He was just doing as she’d asked. Holding her. Giving her the comfort she seemed to need so desperately.

Yet when he eased her across his lap, and his hand slid from her hip to her thigh, his palm meeting bare skin…his thoughts shifted away from comfort and came dangerously close to lust. Her skin was so soft, he thought in wonder, so warm to the touch. He could imagine it heating even more when aroused.

Her breath hitched once, and she buried her face in the curve of his neck, locking her arms more tightly around him. He could feel the fullness of her breasts flattened against his chest, the almost painful dig of her pelvic bone against his groin…yet another reminder of the intimacy of their position. It would be so easy to just ease her down onto the couch and stretch out beside her. To kiss her and touch her until she forgot all about her problems. To fill his hands with her ripe, full breasts, suckle them until she was begging him to make love to her.

Don’t even think it, Cordell, he warned himself. This isn’t the time or the place.

She shifted and he sucked in a raw breath when her hip grazed his manhood. He wanted to hold her there, feel the warmth of her femininity nestled around him…but he couldn’t. His conscience wouldn’t let him.

On a low, frustrated groan, he let his head fall back against the couch and squeezed his eyes shut. Of all the times to decide to become a Boy Scout, Cordell, he reflected miserably, you picked a hell of a good one.

With a resigned sigh, he continued to hold her, unconsciously stroking her thigh, his palm moving up and down her bare leg in slow, soothing strokes. When his knuckles hit the edge of the T-shirt she wore, he scrupulously reversed the movement, smoothing his palm down to her bent knee again, trying to keep his thoughts chaste.

He rubbed his cheek against her hair. “Don’t cry, Lace,” he whispered at her ear. “Come on, baby. Don’t cry anymore.”

But it seemed as if she couldn’t stop.

And Travis couldn’t let her go. He continued to hold her until his arms ached, his rear end grew numb and his voice was hoarse from whispering unintelligible words of comfort. He held her until, with a last shuddery sigh, she burrowed deeper against his chest, laid a hand over his heart, and grew quiet.

Fearing that any movement from him would make her start crying again, he continued to stroke her leg. With each slow movement upward, her T-shirt rose a little higher on her thigh, until his fingertips brushed the elastic of her panties.

Relaxed now, his mind dulled by exhaustion, he slipped a finger beneath the thin band and slowly traced its edge. Back and forth. Back and forth. The calluses on his palm chafing against her tender skin. From the inside of her thigh to the swell of her buttocks. Back and forth. Back and forth in a mindless journey to nowhere.