Rough Diamonds. Diana Palmer
THAT WASN’T THE END of it. Mallory called Morie up to the big house, and he wasn’t smiling as he motioned her into the living room and closed the door.
“Sit down, please.” He indicated a leather chair, not the cushy brocade-covered white sofa. Her jeans were stained with grass and mud from helping with calving. Probably he didn’t want a brown-spotted couch, she thought wickedly.
She sat. “Yes, sir?”
He paced. “Gelly said that you threatened her.”
“Did she?” She sounded amazed. “How odd.”
He turned and stared down at her with piercing dark eyes. “I’d like to hear your side of the story before I decide what to do.”
She cocked her head and studied him. “I’ll tell you, if you’re sure you want to know, boss. But I won’t sugarcoat it, even though I need this job.”
He seemed surprised. “Okay. That’s a deal. Shoot.”
“She warned me off you,” she said simply. “Then she threatened to have me fired. Finally, she tried to slap me and I blocked the move. She left and I went back to work.”
“In between, there’s some stuff missing,” he pointed out. “Like what you said that made her try to slap you.”
“She said that I was after you because you were rich and I was poor,” she added. The words did sting, despite Morie’s background. “She also said cowboys were smelly and stupid and that she could get me fired if she liked. I told her that I didn’t like threats and that perhaps I should ask you if you were her personal property. That’s when she tried to slap me.”
He just stared at her. He didn’t speak. God knew what Gelly had actually told him about the incident.
“I’ve never known her to get physical with anyone,” he returned. “She was crying.”
“Oh, gee, I’m sorry,” Morie said with cutting sarcasm. “Start a fight and lose it and then go crying to some big, strong man to make it all right. That how it goes?”
His jaw tautened. “I’m the boss.”
“Yes, you are, sir,” she agreed. “So if you want to fire me, go right ahead. There are a few ranches where I haven’t tried to get work yet. I’m willing to give them a try.”
He let out an angry sigh. “You might just admit that you were wrong and apologize to her,” he said curtly.
“Apologize when I was defending myself from an attack?” she asked. “How does that work, exactly?”
“She said you started it.”
“And I say that she did.”
He looked even angrier. “She’s a socialite. You’re a hired hand on my ranch. That’s what makes the difference.”
“I get it.” She nodded, trying to contain her temper. “It’s the class thing, right? She’s rich and I’m poor, so she’s right.”
“You work for me, damn it!” he shot back. “And you’re that close—” he held up his forefinger and thumb a fraction apart “—to not working for me!”
Her small hands balled up at her sides. “Nobody throws a punch at me and gets away with it. I don’t care who she is! If she’d landed that blow, I’d have had her prosecuted and I’d call every damned newspaper and television station in Wyoming to make sure everybody knew what she did!”
His eyes were glittering. “She said you told her that you wanted me and you were going to get me, and she’d be out in the cold!”
She rolled her eyes. “Good grief, you’re almost old enough to be my father,” she burst out. “What in the world was she thinking?”
He had been pacing while they talked, but as she spoke her last sentence, he’d stopped and stared at her. Then he moved like greased lightning toward her.
His mouth came down on hers with a pressure and skill that shocked her speechless. While she was trying to decide on a course of action, he backed her up against the wall between two landscape paintings, lifted her and braced his body against hers. The kiss was, at first, a medium of his anger. And then, quite suddenly, it was something entirely different.
She felt one big, warm hand high on her hip, his long leg insinuating itself between both of hers. He shifted, so that she felt him intimately. He was aroused and apparently not shy about sharing the fact with her. His mouth eased and became persuasive, teasing her lips apart while his hand positioned her slender hips so that he could get even closer.
She shivered. No man had ever made such a sudden, sensual pass at her, and she’d never felt such a surge of utter and absolute pleasure at physical contact.
But when the contact grew even more intimate, and she felt her body urging her to help him with that zipper he was trying to undo, she came to her senses.
She dragged her mouth out from under his with reluctance. “No!” she whispered. “No, don’t!”
She pushed at his chest weakly. If he insisted, she wasn’t sure that she could stop him. She didn’t want to stop him… .
He was out of his mind with the pleasure. He hadn’t felt it in years, certainly not with Gelly, who was something of a cold fish, despite her flirting. Morie had made a sharp remark about his age and it had hit him in a sore place. But this was insane. He was taking advantage of the hired help!
He dragged himself away from her and looked down. She was flushed and shaking. But it wasn’t from fear. he knew women. She was as aroused as he was. She hadn’t protested the kissing, but she wasn’t willing to go further. She behaved as if she’d never had a man. He frowned. Could there be a virgin left in the world? Sometimes he doubted it.
“I’m not an old man,” he said angrily.
She was still trying to get her breath. “Oh, no, you’re definitely not old,” she managed. She could taste him on her mouth, smell the woodsy cologne he wore on her clothing.
He averted his eyes. He didn’t lose control of himself, ever. This was embarrassing. “Sorry,” he said stiffly.
She swallowed. “It’s okay. But I should go back to work now.”
“Yes, you should.”
She moved away from the wall, hoping she wasn’t more disheveled than she felt, and that Mavie wouldn’t be around to see her when she left.
He didn’t say a word. He watched her go, stiff and uncomfortable, and pondered Gelly’s remark that Morie was a rounder who was looking for a rich sugar daddy. He knew that wasn’t true. She might be poor. She might even have designs on him for his wealth—it wouldn’t be the first time. But she was innocent. He’d have bet the ranch on it.
MORIE AVOIDED THE OTHER cowboys when she went riding fence lines. She hoped she didn’t look as disconcerted and unsettled as she felt. The boss had kissed her. No, she corrected, that hadn’t been a kiss. That had been something a lot more overt and sensual. She’d been saucy and deliberately provocative. She’d taunted the sleeping bear, but she hadn’t expected such a response.
Her mouth still tingled from the kiss. He might not be the handsomest man around, but he knew exactly what to do with a woman. She hadn’t wanted him to stop. That would have been a disaster. He might have wanted her side of the story, but it was obvious that he believed part of Gelly’s story. He wanted Morie to apologize to that blond shark, did he? Well, hell would freeze over first. She was the injured party. Gelly should apologize, not her.
But Gelly was the woman in his life. She was wealthy and pretty and cultured. Morie had the same background, but she didn’t dare admit it. She couldn’t keep her job if the boss knew who her family was.
Which brought to mind another small problem. The boss was having a gala party