He let her move back, just a step, but he didn’t let her go. “It’s all right,” he said softly, smiling. He framed her face in his big hands and held it where he wanted it. His thumb gently pulled down her lower lip as he bent again. “All we have to fear,” he quoted amusedly, “is fear itself…”
It was different this time. He didn’t demand. He teased her lips, brushing them in brief little caresses that made her want more. His hands smoothed back her hair. They moved down her back, to the curve of her hips, and coaxed her closer. She shivered at the contact and for an instant his mouth became demanding. But when she stiffened, he relented at once.
It was like a silent duel, she thought, fascinated. He advanced, and when she hesitated, he withdrew. It was as if he knew the difficulty she felt, as if he was aware of how new and frightening these sensations were to her. He calmed her, coaxed her, until she began to relax and stop fighting the slow, steady crush of his mouth.
“That’s it,” he whispered when she sank gently against him. “Just don’t fight it. Don’t fight me. I won’t hurt you.”
She knew that. But it was still difficult to give herself over to someone who didn’t know about her past. She was terrified not of his exploring hands, but of what he might find if he persisted.
So when she felt his fingertips teasing just around the edge of her breast, she jumped and pulled back.
She expected an explosion. Once, just once, she’d given in to temptation in her adult years and agreed to go out with a salesman who came through town. He’d grabbed her in the car and she’d jerked away from him. He’d been furious, snapping at her about girls who teased. And then he’d forcibly run his hand over her shoulder and her breast. She could never forget the look of utter horror in his face. He’d pushed her away from him. He took her home without a single word. He hadn’t even looked at her when she got out of the car. It wasn’t as bad as the date she’d had at the tender age of sixteen that had ended in such trauma. But it was bad enough. That was the last time she’d ever gone out with a man on a date.
But Boone wasn’t angry. In fact, he looked pleased rather than offended at her lack of response.
He withdrew his hand and traced her swollen lips with it. “Well!” he exclaimed softly, and he smiled.
She was worried. “You aren’t…mad?”
He shook his head. “Virgins need gentle handling,” he whispered, and bent to kiss her, tenderly, when she blushed.
When he drew back, his expression was solemn and gentle. He smoothed over her hair, touched her cheek, her mouth, her chin. “When are you going to be twenty?” he asked after a minute.
“Chr-Christmas Eve,” she stammered.
“Christmas Eve. In four months.” He kissed her eyelids closed, smiling against them. “We’ll have to do something very special for your birthday.”
“We? Oh, you mean Winnie and Clark and you?”
He lifted his head and searched her eyes. “Why wouldn’t you think I meant just you and me?” he queried.
“There’s Misty,” she reminded him.
He frowned, as if he didn’t know who she was talking about. The magic seemed to seep away. He withdrew his hand and became aloof. “Misty,” he repeated.
The magic drained out of the night. He became the distant stranger, the aloof man of the past. At that moment, he looked as if he’d never considered touching Keely.
She wrapped her arms around herself against a chill that didn’t come from the night air. “It’s getting cool,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Yes, it is.” He moved away from her, deep in thought. He paused to open the door for her.
She went through it without looking up. She said nothing. He said nothing. She went to the refreshment table and got a small cup of soda and sat down with it over against the wall.
She watched Boone stop at a group of cattlemen and stand talking to them. Her eyes darted around to see if Clark had returned. When she glanced toward the group of cattlemen again, Boone was gone. She didn’t see him again.
* * *
CLARK PICKED HER up. He looked disheveled and out of sorts.
“The pearls were the wrong color,” he said dejectedly. “She wanted pink ones. I got gray ones.”
“I’m sorry.”
He glanced at her and grimaced. “I hated leaving you there alone,” he confessed. “I’m really sorry. I won’t do it again.”
“It was all right,” she said. “I liked the music.”
“You’re the nicest friend I’ve ever had,” he said after a minute. “But you shouldn’t let me take advantage of you like this.”
She laughed. “Okay.”
He gave her a rakish grin. “Good girl.”
“What’s our next project?”
He sighed. “I really don’t know. I’ll let you know when she decides if she wants to see me again.”
“She will,” she said with conviction.
“We’ll see.”
* * *
DR. RYDEL WAS raising more hell than usual when Keely went in to work the next Monday.
“I told you to reorder that low-fat dog food last week,” he was raging at their newest clerk, Antonia.
“But I did, Dr. Rydel,” she said, near tears. “They had it on back order.”
He made a rude sound. “And I suppose the urn containing Mrs. Randolph’s old cat is also on back order?” he added sarcastically.
Antonia was red by this time. “No, sir, I forgot to check on it is all. I’m sorry,” she added quickly.
It didn’t make any difference. He stood in front of her and glared. She burst into tears and ran into the back.
“Oh, nice job, Doctor,” his colleague, Dr. Patsy King, muttered. “She’ll quit and we’ll have to break in yet another clerk. How many is that so far
