“Horse hockey,” she said, laughing in spite of herself.
“It’s true. So please swallow your pride and let me do this for you.”
He liked the notion of being her savior. She could tell. It was a guy thing. Looking around the sumptuous, exquisitely decorated bedroom, she grimaced inwardly. This was a far cry from the roach-infested apartments where she had grown up. It was difficult to admit, even to herself, how much she wanted to stay.
On a normal day, she might have summoned the strength to turn him down. But after the tornado and last night’s ordeal, she was working from a final store of reserves. “I suppose I’d be a fool to say no.”
“I happen to know you’re a very smart woman.”
She couldn’t allow herself to depend on him indefinitely. This gilded world of wealth and privilege was not hers. The life she had carved out for herself was a good one, but it wasn’t this.
Even so, surely it couldn’t hurt to pretend for a while. “Okay,” she sighed. “You win. But only because I’m at a low point. And because I’m guessing that bathroom over there has a jetted tub.”
“You are and it does.”
Something happened then—something she couldn’t explain. The attraction that neither of them had acknowledged over the last months and days was tangible now. Fired in the crucible of the tornado’s fury, it had proven to be far more real than she could ever have imagined.
Desire hovered between them...around them. Drew’s expression was serious now. His warm gaze seeped into her bones, rejuvenating her. Did his interest in her have an ulterior motive? Did he think if they were intimate, he could manipulate her more easily? “I know what you’re thinking,” she said.
Hunger flashed in his eyes. “Not the half of it,” he muttered.
His mouth settled over hers in slow motion. Their lips met, clung. Strong arms circled her waist, pulling her up against his big, hard frame.
Dimly, in some far recess of her subconscious, she understood that this was a really bad idea. Living in Drew’s house...accepting his help. Playing with fire.
When his tongue slid between her lips, stroking inside her mouth intimately, a curl of desire, sweet and hot, made her legs tremble. She clung to him, flashing back to their terrifying dash to the storm cellar. Would she have made it in time without him? Awash with emotions that ran the gamut from gratitude to sheer need, she kissed him back.
Drew said she was a smart woman. But here, locked in his arms, with his mouth hot and demanding on hers, she knew that she was not. Despite every obstacle standing in their way, both past and present, she wanted to share his bed.
The town they both loved had been ripped apart. Lives were lost. Her own home was in shambles.
Perhaps it was the very existence of disaster that made her reach for what she wanted. Life was short. Life was precious. Even without a happy ending, she could have Drew. It wasn’t vanity to think so. She saw it in his eyes, felt it in the restless caress of his hands.
Deliberately, she nipped his bottom lip with her teeth. “You have things to do. But I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
I’ll be here when you’re ready. Drew replayed that sentence in his head a thousand times as he made his way from stall to stall checking on his horses. He relied on top-notch employees. But he wanted to see for himself that the horses were safe. These beautiful animals were more than dollar signs to him. They were noble steeds with bloodlines that went further back than his own.
He spoke softly to each one, smiling when a whinny of recognition greeted him. They were muscle and sinew and most of all—heart. Ever since he was a boy, he had loved the sights and sounds and smells of the horse barn. As an adult, he was fortunate to make his living working with these creatures. Though he would be reluctant to admit it, he grieved each time one of his prized stallions left the ranch.
An hour later, walking shoulder to shoulder with Jed down the streets of Royal—or what was left of them—he forgot all about Willowbrook. The random pattern of the destruction was hard to fathom. On one block, houses had been razed to the ground, no more than piles of rubble. But one road over, dwellings were untouched.
The west side of town was hardest hit; almost all of the businesses there a total loss. Smaller tornadoes had touched down across the county.
Drew had seen TV coverage of bad tornadoes. In his lifetime he’d personally witnessed a few storms that ripped up trees and tore off roofs. But nothing like this. Ever. The governor and his entourage had helicoptered in at daybreak and assessed the damage in preparation for a news conference. Faces from national news stations and The Weather Channel popped up everywhere. That, more than anything else, brought home the enormity of the disaster.
Royal was about to become famous for all the wrong reasons.
Earlier in the day, Jed had made contact with the point man for search and rescue. Now, he and Drew and a half dozen other members of the Texas Cattleman’s Club joined a team with canine support going from house to house looking for survivors. Thankfully, almost everyone had been accounted for by this point. While Drew and Beth had been trapped in the cellar the afternoon and evening before, the immediate rush to find missing and dead had been urgent and thorough.
Today was about making sure nothing was overlooked. Sometimes the elderly had no one to raise a red flag if they went missing. And they might be too weak to cry out for help. Hence, the careful attention of a half dozen teams working a grid system across the town.
Drew squatted in a sea of pink insulation and crumpled Sheetrock to pick up a lavender teddy bear, probably some little girl’s prized possession. He set it in a prominent place, hoping someone would find it.
Families were beginning the grim and heartbreaking task of sifting through what was left of their homes in an effort to reclaim valuables. National Guard units patrolled the hardest hit neighborhoods, discouraging looting.
Royal was a great place to live and raise a family, but in situations of chaos, the occasional vermin crawled out to prey on others’ misfortune.
By the time the sun hung low in the sky, Drew was beat. He and Jed grabbed a burger at a restaurant offering free dinners to rescue personnel. They stood outside to eat, in full view of what was left of Town Hall. Almost all of the three-story building had been leveled. Only a portion of the clock tower still stood, the hands of time perpetually frozen at 4:14.
Drew’s stomach knotted. He tossed the last half of his meal in a trash receptacle and stared at the eerie scene. It was painful remembering where he and Beth had been at the moment they heard the sirens. Why had they been spared when others had not?
It was one of those questions with no answer.
He turned his back on the tragic scene and rubbed the heels of his hands over his eyes. Jed’s light touch on his shoulder startled him.
“You doin’ okay, big brother?”
Drew nodded automatically, but inside he wondered if anything would ever be okay again. “Yeah.”
Jed rolled his neck. “A bunch of the TCC guys and gals are going to meet at the club first thing in the morning for another follow-up meeting.”
“Good idea.” Jed lived in Dallas and was a part of that branch of the Texas Cattleman’s Club. He was only visiting Royal for the moment, but he knew most of the same people Jed knew. Unfortunately, he’d picked a hell of a time to come. Drew was glad to have him around.
“I ran into Gil Addison while you were talking to the fire chief. Gil has been coordinating