He said again, "You should go."
Then he wove around her toward the stable.
Later, as she lay awake in bed staring at the ceiling, she heard the retreating beat of hooves. Still glowing from the feel of him, still buzzing from the high, she rolled over and lightly touched her lips.
She thought she'd been kissed before. Thought she knew what desire was … how it felt to be on fire.
She'd been wrong.
Five
The next morning, Jack drove into Hawksborough, a town that pretty much consisted of a main street lined with Leopard trees, a federation-style library, town hall and courthouse, and a series of fading shop fronts which led to the Shangri-la Motel.
Parked in front of Bruce's Barber's, a residence which co-let to Hawsborough's only bank, Jack swung out of the driver's side of his four-wheel drive and absorbed the town's aura of timelessness. Sue had loved this place almost as much as she'd loved the station. If he ever came in, Sue would, too, to catch up with the locals then veg out in the town square, working her way through one of her tomes. Sue had been as laid back as supper on Sundays.
Sophisticated Madison Tyler, on the other hand, fit in more with canapés and cocktails at five. She would find Hawksborough's sole set of traffic lights and single movie theater gauche. Possibly unsettling. Maddy cared about what happened to Dahlia's baby-he respected her for that-but as soon as her job here was done she'd be gone, back to the city and "civilization". Thirteen more days. And nights.
As he removed his hat and crossed into the Shangri-la foyer, Jack knew he could fool himself and say he understood why he'd cast off proper conduct last night: he'd wanted to sample an intriguing wine, just a taste. He'd kissed Maddy. Had enjoyed the act immensely. Curiosity supposedly done and dusted. Trouble was, while all this rationalizing had been taking place, he'd forgotten about Tara. About the commitment he'd made to her. And that just wasn't him.
That Maddy was so different from Sue, from Tara-from any woman he'd known-might be a reason for his behavior but it wasn't an excuse. He felt off-center around her. Couldn't seem to shake her from his thoughts. At four this morning he'd finally figured out what needed to be done and how he should do it.
Now he strode up to Mrs. Claudia, the friendly gray-haired receptionist he'd known all his life. She slid the Life crossword to one side of the mahogany desk and they exchanged pleasantries about her aging canary and the lack of rain. Then he dialed up to the room Tara took whenever she stayed in town.
When she picked up on the second ring, Jack braced his shoulders. "Tara, I need to see you."
There was a moment's pause before a sigh came down the line. "Jack, it's you. Thank God. Come up."
From her thready tone, something wasn't right in her world. He could guess what. But as he set off for the vintage elevator, Jack knew he couldn't let any bad news delay his own.
When Tara opened her door, her hair was as glossy as usual but her eyes didn't hold their normal fire. She lifted a large envelope and gave a jaded smile.
"Hendrix's X-rays. There's a small cyst on his hock. In my opinion, and the vet's, nothing to worry about." She flung the envelope on the TV stand. "But the buyer wants a cut in price."
"Three hundred G's is a lot for a horse," he said, hanging his hat on the hatstand.
"Not for a brilliant jumper." Then her dark eyes softened and an inviting smile curved her lips. "But let's not talk about that."
She took his hand and led him toward the bed. Jack kept his eyes straight ahead but even a blind man couldn't miss her attire: a short, pale pink silk wrap. From the outline, she was naked underneath.
She drew him toward the foot of the unmade bed. Positioning herself close, she wove her hands up his shirt front then, closing her eyes, she reached on tiptoe to rub her nose with his.
"It's so good to see you." Her fingers flexed in his shirt as she murmured, "Will I order up some breakfast?"
"I've eaten."
She opened her eyes at his tone and angled her head. "I need to apologize for the way I acted yesterday. But, you have to understand, I was taken aback. The last thing I expected to see was a baby-" she lowered to sit on the rumpled sheet "-or another woman." Twining her fingers with his, she urged him to sit beside her. "But I should've shown more control. You're right. We need to speak about this in private." She pivoted toward him, her wrap slipped but she didn't cover her thigh. "How do you feel about raising Dahlia's son?"
He set his jaw. "Committed."
"There is one big positive."
"You mean besides giving my nephew a home."
"Of course that baby deserves a home." Her touch filed over his thigh and settled on his leg. "And now there's no reason why we shouldn't start a family. I understand how you feel about losing your own. Jack, I can't imagine how much that must hurt, even now. But being given this baby is like being given another chance. We could give that little boy a brother or two." Her hand squeezed. "A real family, for us all."
He pushed to his feet and her hand fell away. "We need to talk."
"If you're worried about inheritance-that I might be biased toward the children we have together-I'm more than fine with all the children having equal shares … "
"I can't marry you."
She recoiled as if bitten by a snake. Her slender throat worked up and down as moisture welled in her eyes. His gut twisted around a heavy knot of guilt. There'd been no easy way to say it. But the admission had sounded blunt even to his ears.
"You can't marry … " She carefully unfolded to her feet. "We've discussed this. Gone through it." She stepped closer and a note of desperation lifted her voice. "What about the land?"
"I don't care about the land."
He cursed under his breath and scrubbed his brow.
Of course he cared, but …
Decided, he met her gaze. "I can't think about that now."
"It's that woman, isn't it?" Her slim nostrils flared. "How long have you known her?"
He told her the truth. "I met Maddy the same day I learned about Dahlia."
"Then she's a quick worker, getting you to agree to have her stay here."
"It wasn't like that."
Tara might have more reason than she knew to be jealous but it hadn't started out that way. Maddy hadn't set a trap to ensnare an eligible bachelor. She'd made a vow and had come to Leadeebrook when she would rather not have. Her loyalty to his sister, her indignation toward him, hadn't been an act.
Neither was the passion he'd felt break free when he'd held her last night. His palms had itched to shape over her curves. Conscience hadn't been an issue. The primal need to know every inch of her had overshadowed everything.
Tara was imploring him with her eyes.
"Tell me nothing's going on, Jack. Tell me and I'll believe you. You've made mistakes before." The passionate look wavered. "You don't want to make another one."
His eyes narrowed. He'd forget she said that.
"Tara, you and I are friends. I'll always think of you as a friend."
"Friendship can turn into love." She held his jaw and hitched up to slip her lips over his. "It did for me."
He found her hand and held it between both of his. "It's better this way."
He'd married once. He should have known that would do him a lifetime. The ring he wore around his neck would always live there.
But as he threw his hat back on and left the motel a few minutes later, he reminded himself that physical intimacy was another matter. No license was required to satisfy sexual needs. Needs every man had. Natural, instinctive. In this instance, fierce.
The chemistry was right between Maddy and him. Yesterday under the stars, it had been near uncontainable. Whether this fever was due to the upheaval of emotion these past days-the lasting bond he and Maddy had shared with Dahlia-he couldn't say. All he knew with absolute certainty was he'd been attracted to Madison Tyler from the start. The attraction had grown to a point where, no matter what excuse he made, he couldn't deny it.
He wanted her in his bed.
The primal urge was a force unto itself, demanding release, stoking his mind like a stick at a fire every other minute of the day. He'd never felt this intensely about a woman, not even Sue. He'd never gone there with Tara, neither in mind nor in body.