She stood, the towel held loosely in her hands, pondering that word. It didn’t have a lot to do with her gnawing hunger to please him, to give, to share with him. What she felt was something she’d never experienced, something nameless.
She shook back her long hair with a frown. This was getting her nowhere.
Still brooding, she walked out of the bathroom into the bedroom/living room stark naked, the towel trailing listlessly from one hand. There was suddenly a loud slam, footsteps, and before the thought really registered that she had company, the apartment door was flung open and John Durango walked in, fury in every hard line of his face.
Chapter Seven
M adeline gaped at him, oblivious for a split second to her state of undress.
“Expecting my cousin?” he demanded coldly, and his silver eyes touched every inch of her in expert appraisal.
Belatedly, she fumbled the towel around her with cold, trembling fingers.
“I…I wasn’t expecting anyone,” she said nervously.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he wanted to know, his tone the same one he probably used at board meetings when he was cutting up a subordinate.
She drew herself up proudly, her hair falling in waves around her bare shoulders, her eyes a vivid green in her flushed face. “What the hell business is it of yours?” she replied.
“You can ask me that, after what we shared?” he breathed furiously.
The flush grew hotter and she averted her eyes.
“Did you think you’d own me after one night?” she asked harshly.
“Stop answering questions with questions,” he growled. He made a rough gesture with one big hand, reached for a cigarette, found his pocket empty and mumbled something she was glad she didn’t understand.
“Have you been by my house?” she asked, clutching the towel closer. “Do you know what happened?”
“Yes, I’ve been by your house,” he muttered, and for the first time she noticed that he looked strangely pale. “You might have left a note on the door,” he added tautly. “I had to drag Miss Rose out of bed to find out if you were alive. Which shocked her,” he continued angrily, “because she seemed to have the distinct impression that we were planning to elope.”
She avoided his eyes. “Miss Rose is a hopeless romantic,” she faltered. The tone of his voice had hurt, as if marriage to her was unthinkable.
“Couldn’t you have managed a minute to call and tell Josito?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, subdued. “I’ve been too upset to do much thinking. I had to buy another car, and arrange for repairs…and someplace to live,” she added, lifting her eyes to his. “A tree went through the roof!”
“There was no tree through the roof when I drove buy,” he countered.
“Of course not, the rescue people have removed it!”
“You aren’t making a hell of a lot of sense,” he observed. “And you still haven’t told me why you’re here!”
“Why should I?” she shot back. “I’m free, single and over twenty-one, and nobody, but
nobody
, tells me what to do anymore!”
“Think so?” he replied, smiling coolly.
“I know so!” She shifted uncomfortably. “John, I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Are you living with him?” he asked.
Her temper went wild. “I most certainly am not! For heaven’s sake, what would people think…!”
“They’re already thinking it,” he informed her coldly. “Or did you imagine no one would notice?”
Her eyes closed on a wave of embarrassment. “I had to have someplace to live,” she muttered.
“What was wrong with Miss Rose’s house?”
“The War Widows Historical Society, that’s what!”
“You could move in with me,” he returned.
She went pale at the thought. Living with him, being with him, sitting down to meals with him, watching him around the house, sharing his life…
He moved closer, his face still hard, although his eyes softened just a little. His big, warm hands caught her bare shoulders and held her
She shook back her long hair with a frown. This was getting her nowhere.
Still brooding, she walked out of the bathroom into the bedroom/living room stark naked, the towel trailing listlessly from one hand. There was suddenly a loud slam, footsteps, and before the thought really registered that she had company, the apartment door was flung open and John Durango walked in, fury in every hard line of his face.
Chapter Seven
M adeline gaped at him, oblivious for a split second to her state of undress.
“Expecting my cousin?” he demanded coldly, and his silver eyes touched every inch of her in expert appraisal.
Belatedly, she fumbled the towel around her with cold, trembling fingers.
“I…I wasn’t expecting anyone,” she said nervously.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he wanted to know, his tone the same one he probably used at board meetings when he was cutting up a subordinate.
She drew herself up proudly, her hair falling in waves around her bare shoulders, her eyes a vivid green in her flushed face. “What the hell business is it of yours?” she replied.
“You can ask me that, after what we shared?” he breathed furiously.
The flush grew hotter and she averted her eyes.
“Did you think you’d own me after one night?” she asked harshly.
“Stop answering questions with questions,” he growled. He made a rough gesture with one big hand, reached for a cigarette, found his pocket empty and mumbled something she was glad she didn’t understand.
“Have you been by my house?” she asked, clutching the towel closer. “Do you know what happened?”
“Yes, I’ve been by your house,” he muttered, and for the first time she noticed that he looked strangely pale. “You might have left a note on the door,” he added tautly. “I had to drag Miss Rose out of bed to find out if you were alive. Which shocked her,” he continued angrily, “because she seemed to have the distinct impression that we were planning to elope.”
She avoided his eyes. “Miss Rose is a hopeless romantic,” she faltered. The tone of his voice had hurt, as if marriage to her was unthinkable.
“Couldn’t you have managed a minute to call and tell Josito?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, subdued. “I’ve been too upset to do much thinking. I had to buy another car, and arrange for repairs…and someplace to live,” she added, lifting her eyes to his. “A tree went through the roof!”
“There was no tree through the roof when I drove buy,” he countered.
“Of course not, the rescue people have removed it!”
“You aren’t making a hell of a lot of sense,” he observed. “And you still haven’t told me why you’re here!”
“Why should I?” she shot back. “I’m free, single and over twenty-one, and nobody, but
nobody
, tells me what to do anymore!”
“Think so?” he replied, smiling coolly.
“I know so!” She shifted uncomfortably. “John, I don’t want to fight with you.”
“Are you living with him?” he asked.
Her temper went wild. “I most certainly am not! For heaven’s sake, what would people think…!”
“They’re already thinking it,” he informed her coldly. “Or did you imagine no one would notice?”
Her eyes closed on a wave of embarrassment. “I had to have someplace to live,” she muttered.
“What was wrong with Miss Rose’s house?”
“The War Widows Historical Society, that’s what!”
“You could move in with me,” he returned.
She went pale at the thought. Living with him, being with him, sitting down to meals with him, watching him around the house, sharing his life…
He moved closer, his face still hard, although his eyes softened just a little. His big, warm hands caught her bare shoulders and held her
Similar Books
