Читать книгу The Cowboy and His Wayward Bride - Sherryl Woods, Sherryl Woods - Страница 8

Seeing Laurie again stirred up all the old feelings for Harlan Patrick. From love to hate, from bitterness to joy, his emotions went on a sixty-second roller-coaster ride, leaving his palms sweaty and his belly in knots. After that things only got worse.

Pure lust slammed through him the instant she walked in that dressing-room door. No woman had ever been her equal for making his temper hot and his body hotter. Having her stare him down with hardly a stitch of clothes on had just about broken his resolve to keep his hands to himself until they had this whole sorry situation straightened out. He was just itching to kiss her senseless, to lose himself in her warmth and her scent, to prove to himself that at least one thing hadn’t changed between them.

There’d been a time when he’d have gone for it, taken the immediate satisfaction, reveled in the sensory explosion without a thought to the consequences. A few years of loneliness and loss had made him more cautious, maybe even more mature. In one tiny corner of his brain, it registered that sex wasn’t the answer.

For once he jammed his hands in his pockets and stayed as far away from her as it was possible to get in that itty-bitty dressing room. It wasn’t quite as far as good sense called for, but it was as far as he dared given the likelihood that she’d run out on him at the first opportunity. It had taken too long finding her for him to risk losing track of her again. He wasn’t going anywhere until he’d seen his daughter and he and Laurie had made some decisions about the future.

Not that she was in much of a decision-making mood. In fact, he suspected she was going to be thoroughly unreasonable, just the way she’d always been when she’d been cornered. Normally he’d spend a lot of time trying to coax her into a better frame of mind, but there wasn’t time for that, either. She and his baby girl were likely to slip right through his fingers before he could blink if he didn’t stay right on top of Laurie every second, if he didn’t make it perfectly clear what his own expectations were.

“I’m ready,” she announced, drawing his attention.

She’d wiped away the last traces of stage makeup, leaving only a touch of lipstick. The glittery outfit she’d worn had been replaced by worn jeans and a T-shirt. She’d scooped her hair up into a careless ponytail, just as she had as a girl when the heat of a Texas summer afternoon got to be too much. His fingers itched to pull away the band holding it, allowing it to fall free again, the way he liked it.

Finally, though, he thought, she looked like his Laurie, approachable and unassuming, the girl next door. In some ways that was more dangerous than the sexy woman who’d walked into the dressing room a half hour before. He’d fallen in love with the girl from his old hometown, not the superstar image. He’d convinced himself that that Laurie, wide-eyed with wonder, had gotten lost.

Of course, the change was superficial, all about appearances. Try as he might, he couldn’t tell yet how deep the changes ran, if there was anything of the old Laurie in her heart.

He stood up and took her small suitcase. It weighed a ton. He grinned. “Still don’t have a clue how to pack light, do you? What’s in here? Rocks?”

“If you’re going to complain all the way back to the hotel, I’ll carry it,” she said, reaching for it. “I’ve been on my own a long time, Harlan Patrick. I don’t need you.”

He grinned at the quick flare of temper. “You must be out of sorts if you can’t take a joke.”

“I lost my sense of humor when I found you in my dressing room.”

He laughed at her disgruntled expression. “Careful, darlin’, or you’ll hurt my feelings.”

“Not with your thick hide,” she muttered under her breath as she sashayed past him.

“I heard that.”

She ignored him and gave the guard a quick hug. “Thanks for everything, Chester.”

The red-faced guard gave her a smile and Harlan Patrick a suspicious look, clearly wondering how he’d turned up in her dressing room. “Is everything okay, Laurie?”

“Everything’s fine, Chester. This is an old…” She hesitated as if she couldn’t quite decide how to describe Harlan Patrick. “Friend,” she said finally. “Mr. Adams is an old friend from Texas.”

The guard accepted the explanation readily enough and beamed at him. “Well, then, it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. I’ll bet you’re proud of our Miss Laurie.”

“I am indeed,” Harlan Patrick said.

After they’d left the building, Laurie glanced up at him. “You almost sounded as if you meant that.”

“I did,” he said simply, then sighed. “Even though your career came between us, I’m glad you made it because it’s all that ever mattered to you. I’d hate to think you gave up all we had and had found nothing to replace it.”

“It didn’t replace it,” she countered. “You mattered to me, Harlan Patrick. You still do.”

“Just not enough,” he said bitterly.

“Please, it wasn’t like that. If there’d been another way…”

“You mean like me giving up White Pines.”

“No,” she retorted, then she was the one who sighed. “Yes, I suppose that was the only other alternative, at least at the beginning. Can you see now why I said it would have been impossible for us to find a solution when I got pregnant? We live in two different worlds, Harlan Patrick, literally.”

“Two different cities,” he corrected as if the distinction made a difference, knowing it didn’t.

“Whatever. You have to admit it was an impossible situation.”

“No. What I see is that our baby wasn’t important enough for you to even try.”

Her hand connected with his cheek before he even realized what she intended. “Don’t you ever say something like that, Harlan Patrick Adams. Not ever. Our baby is the most important thing in my life.”

Harlan Patrick rubbed his cheek, but he didn’t back down. “What would happen if it came to a choice between her and your music, Laurie? What then? What happens when it’s time for her to go to school? Will she lose then the same way I did? Will you shuffle her off to some boarding school?”

He let those words hang in the air as he opened the rental-car trunk and tossed her suitcase inside. He noticed that she was very subdued as she joined him. She got into the car without a word and, aside from giving him directions, she remained silent all the way to the hotel.

It was an old hotel, three stories high with a creaky elevator and a half-asleep clerk behind the desk. In the lobby Laurie paused. “Please wait until morning to see the baby,” she pleaded for the second time that night.