For the Love of Sin(23)
Frustration ate at him. “Well, it wasn’t. I want to know the truth about what’s going on. I want to know your secrets. I want to know everything.”
She turned back to face him, her eyes sparking with emotion that rivaled his own. “You think you have the right to know my soul because of what happened tonight. Tonight was about two people who got real hot and took some pleasure. No strings, no rights, no promises. Don’t be confused.”
Her words hit him like a slap. He didn’t know if he was more angry with the hurt he was feeling or her continued reluctance to come clean with him. “Excuse me,” he said, hearing the sarcasm in his voice. “I forgot you don’t know how to get emotionally involved with a man.” Then he turned on his heel and headed back to his car.
Senada trembled and damned herself for her weakness. Letting the screen door swing shut, she watched him. Even in the dark, she could see the hurt and anger rising off him like steam.
“You don’t know how to get emotionally involved with a man.”
His words echoed off the corners of her mind. So true. It wasn’t news-flash material, but his statement made her feel shallow. She’d never really felt that way before. She’d always steered clear of emotional involvement with men because she’d learned an important lesson when her father left her mother. Men don’t stay.
Don’t count on them, and your heart will be safe.
Troy wasn’t like the other men she’d been involved with. Senada knew it in her head and gut. In her heart? She sighed, trembling again. She’d thought her heart was protected, immune. But she felt an odd ache in her chest that she’d never felt before.
Troy stayed away from the bar for the next two days. Too annoyed to be reasonable, he considered throwing the towel in and going back to Tennessee. Senada Calhoun was just plain hell on his nerves.
“I’m not getting anywhere,” he told Brick on the phone as he paced from one end of his crummy little room to the other. “I hate this motel. I’m surprised the damn phone works. Nothing else does.” Perspiration trickled down his back, and he swore under his breath.
“You haven’t found out anything, anything at all?” Brick asked, the sound of a screaming baby in the background.
Troy pulled the phone away from his ear at the loud noise, then gingerly put it back. “For Pete’s sake, give the kid a pacifier or something. She sounds as if you’re pinching her.”
“Lisa’s worn out. Trying to take a nap. This one’s teething. I’m pacing.” He gave a heavy sigh. “Back to Senada. Lisa’s getting antsy. I wouldn’t put it past her to come down there herself. Have you got anything?”
Troy hesitated. “I might. Nothing definite. Don’t tell Lisa, but I followed Senada to a doctor’s clinic and a pharmacy where she picked up some prescriptions. Saw a wrapper for—” He stopped, suddenly reluctant to disclose the rest.
“A wrapper for what?” Brick prodded.
“Nothing,” Troy said. “I haven’t figured it out, yet. She seems healthy, conscious of her diet and all that stuff. It’s clear as mud right now.”
“Listen, Troy, if you really want to come back, you can. Sin’s stubborn as hell, but I sure didn’t think it would take this long to try to reason with her. I mean,” he added dryly, “it’s not as if I was the one trying to reason with her. She hates my guts.”
“Not really,” Troy corrected. “She just lets you think that because she likes to see you squirm. She knows Lisa is happy with you. Of course, she thinks all the Pendleton men are primitive, protective and dense.”
Brick snickered. “That’s not totally bad. If she underestimates you, you can make it work in your favor.”
“Yeah,” Troy said, not convinced. “Listen, do you know anything about Sin’s family background?”
“Not much,” Brick said. “Lisa mentioned that Sin’s mother died a long time ago, and Sin’s never been close with her father, although I think Lisa said he’s supposed to be loaded.”
“Loaded?” Troy repeated.
“Yeah. Owns a bunch of land in Texas. A cattle ranch or something. I think.”
Senada gazed into her closet, searching for the best dress to wear tonight. It was almost like selecting a weapon. Thumbing past the white shirtwaist dress and the bubblegum-pink flowing A-line, she hesitated at the black one. Although the barbecue would be held outside, guests would be dressed in everything from Western attire to cocktail dresses.
The black dress.
Senada pulled it out and looked at it, a black formfitting cotton knit that stretched to her calves. It might have been fairly conservative if not for the illusion sleeves and midriff, and the slit up the right leg.