“We might,” he said.
“Going to introduce me?” she persisted, nodding toward Allison.
“This is Allison Hathoway,” he said, glancing down at her. “She’s an old friend of Winnie’s. You know Winnie—she’s engaged to Dwight.”
“I know her. Nice to meet you. I’m Dale Branigan.” She extended a hand and shook Allison’s firmly, her blue eyes unwavering. “Are you just visiting?”
Allison nodded. “For another week or so,” she said, hating to put into words how little time she had left. But she couldn’t impose much longer on the Manleys, and she had to go to Arizona and finish tying up the loose ends of her parents’ lives. It was a task she didn’t anticipate with pleasure.
Gene stiffened. He hadn’t realized how soon she planned to leave. It disturbed him to think of her going away, and he didn’t understand why.
Allison felt the sudden stiffening and looked up at Gene just as he glanced down at her. The tension exploded between them so that it was almost visible. Dale said something and left and neither of them noticed her departure. Allison’s lips parted under the force of the shared look, the impact like lightning striking. Her heart raced.
“Do you want to go to a dance with me?” he asked huskily, his body suddenly on fire. “It would mean going home very, very late.”
“Yes.” She spoke without hesitation. She didn’t want to go home yet; she didn’t want to say good-night to him. She wasn’t considering the dangers of being seen in public or giving the media any clues to her whereabouts. She wanted to be held in his arms, for as long as possible. She was too much in love to care about the consequences anymore.
Gene was feeling the same thing. His world had just narrowed to the woman beside him. “All right,” he said curtly. “To hell with the consequences. Come on.”
Chapter Seven
The dance that followed the rodeo was in a local bar and grill, and nothing fancy by city standards. It was very casual, with men and women both in jeans and Western hats, in what looked like a converted barn.
Gene ordered two beers, ignoring Allison’s grimace, and seated them at a small round table near the dance floor. There was a live band and no shortage of dancers. The place was packed with celebrators from the rodeo.
“But...” she protested when Gene put the mug of foamy beer in front of her.
“Taste it first,” he coaxed gently. “It won’t hurt you. One beer isn’t going to do much damage, and I’ve ordered some sandwiches to go with it. Okay?”
She sighed, still reluctant.
He leaned toward her, one lean forefinger tracing patterns on the back of her hand while his eyes held hers. “I like beer. I’ll taste of it when we leave here.” His gaze fell to her mouth. “If you taste of it, too, it won’t bother you when we make love.”
Her lips parted and her heart jumped. “Tonight?” she stammered, because he looked as if he meant business this time.
“Tonight, Allison,” he said huskily. He caught her eyes again and held them, his whole body throbbing with anticipation. She was staring back at him just as intently and he felt his body react fiercely. He leaned closer, his lips almost touching hers as he spoke. “There’s a line cabin between here and the house,” he breathed. He caught her chin and tilted it tenderly so that his thin lips could brush lightly over hers in a whisper of rough persuasion. “I promise you, I’ll be gentle. It will be exactly the way you want it, all the way.”
She tried to speak, but his teeth closed on her lower lip, tugging, and before she could get a word out, the moist warmth of his mouth buried itself in hers. She was so sweet. He could hardly breathe for his need of her. He hadn’t meant to let it go this far, but once he felt her mouth under his, he didn't want to stop.
He wasn’t the only one. Allison shivered with reaction. Her mouth answered his, blind to where they were, deaf to the people and music around them, hopelessly lost in him. Nothing mattered except being in his arms. She’d been alone so long, been through so much. Surely she could be given this one, sweet night! To lie in the arms of the man she loved and be cherished, just one time. The temptation was overwhelming. And he’d said he’d be gentle. That had to mean he cared. Hadn’t he told her at the beginning that he was always rough because that was the way he liked it—and now here he was putting her wants before his. He had to care, a little.
When he lifted his head, they were both breathing roughly. He had to force himself to draw away. With a jerky movement, he reached for his mug of beer and all but drained it.
“I didn’t mean to do that, yet,” he said unsteadily. He stared at her solemnly, his eyes lingering on her delicately flushed face with its exquisite complexion. Her eyes were misty, a little dazed, and her mouth was swollen and parted from the long, hard kiss. Just the sight of her knocked the breath out of him.
“It’s all right,” she said huskily.
He averted his gaze and found himself looking at Dale, who was dancing stiffly with a plain, lanky man wearing a red shirt. She gave him a pouting, accusing look before she turned her attention back to her partner.
Allison followed the cold stare of his eyes. “She’s very pretty,” she remarked quietly.
He turned, his gaze glittering. “Yes. But she wanted more than I could give her.”
Was she like that, too, Allison wondered, wanting more than he had to give? It didn’t seem to matter. She was too hopelessly in
