“Love!” His eyes glared hotly at her as a visible shudder ran through his powerful body, still aroused and hurting. “All right, if you love me, come here. Prove it, you icy little tease,” he added with a mocking smile that hid overwhelming frustration.
Her heart went cold, like the tears on her face. She looked at him with anguish. “I can’t,” she whispered. “You…you hurt me!”
Her fear infuriated him. It was Jane all over again, hating his lovemaking, taunting him, her sarcasm vicious and unforgiving. “No?” he asked coolly. “Then if you won’t give out, get out,” he added. “All I wanted from you in the first place was sex. My God,” he ground out involuntarily as she shrank from him, “why not me? Surely to God you’ve had others…!”
Her eyes were as big as saucers, her flushed face red, her body shaking. And it dawned on him, too late, that there hadn’t been any others. She couldn’t look like that, even with him, if she were experienced.
He felt a surge of horror. “Tess, are you a virgin?”
She thought she might faint at the expression in his eyes. She couldn’t look at him after that. She grabbed her purse and ran from the apartment. Without a word Dane watched her leave. He didn’t go after her; he didn’t call later to apologize. It was, he told himself, the only out he was likely to get. Let her think he’d done it deliberately. She made him vulnerable. He had nothing to offer her. It would be a kindness, in a way. He turned back into the apartment, his eyes as cold as he felt inside. He’d never trust a woman again as long as he lived. Not even Tess. A virgin. How could he have not known? He hoped he hadn’t left too many scars….
He’d tried to consider it a lucky escape. Eventually, his pretended indifference and hostility had crushed the spontaneity right out of Tess, so that now she was quiet and polite and even a little shy when they were together. After her father died, Dane had offered her a job as a secretary. She had had nobody except him, and he’d wanted to help. It had worked fine, but only when he made her angry did he see any traces of the old Tess. Perhaps, he confessed silently, that was why he kept goading her.
Angrily, he started the car and drove to the office, to be met by the whole staff the minute he walked in the door. It shouldn’t have surprised him that his employees loved Tess. She was forever doing things for them.
“Will she be all right?” Helen got in first, her big dark eyes worried.
“She’s fine,” he assured them. “Still drowsy from the anesthetic, but there won’t be any impairment. She has to heal.”
“When does she come home?” Helen persisted. “She can stay with me. She’ll need looking after.”
“She’ll stay with me,” he said, shocking all of them, including himself. “I’ll take her down to the ranch. José and Beryl can take care of her when I have to be in the office. Did you get a temp for the next week or so?” he asked Helen.
“She’ll be here any minute,” she agreed. “Good typing and dictation speeds and her agency says she’s discreet. No worries about loose lips sinking ships.”
“Good.” His eyes went involuntarily to the desk where Tess worked. It wounded him to see it empty.
“See if you can make any sense out of her appointment book, will you?” he asked irritably, glancing at Helen. “I don’t even know what I have on my calendar today.”
“You’re having lunch with Harvey Barrett,” she reminded him. “That’s on the extortion case. This afternoon you were supposed to see a couple who want you to find their daughter—the Allisons—and a man who wants his wife watched.”
“And this morning?”
She stared at the appointment book and shook her head. “Nothing urgent.”
“Good. I’m going to the apartment to change and then I’ll be at the hospital until lunch.”
Helen frowned. “I thought you said she was okay.”
He moved toward the door without answering. “If there’s anything important, you can reach me in her room.” He gave her the number.
“Okay, boss. Tell her she’s missed.”
He nodded. His mind wasn’t on what was going on around him. It was on Tess.
Chapter Two
TESS MOANED IN HER SLEEP as the pain caught her unawares. She’d been dreaming. Probably about Dane, she thought drowsily. She never dreamed about anyone else. That was almost comical, considering how badly he’d hurt her.
A sound penetrated her semiaware state. She opened her eyes in time to see Dane sitting down in the chair beside the bed.
“What are you doing back?” she asked, her body going rigid. “It’s a workday.”
“I’m working,” he said. “Looking after you.”
The wording brought back unbearable memories of the time that he’d been shot—and what had followed. She closed her eyes on a wave of pain. “Please go away,” she whispered huskily.
He took a slow breath. The anguish in her face made him uneasy. “You don’t have anyone else.”
That was true. Her grandmother had died a year ago.
Her eyes met his, and there was nothing in her face to betray what she really felt. “You’re just my boss, Dane,” she said quietly. “That doesn’t require you to look after me.”
He sat up, his forearms across his knees as he stared at her. “I’ve never asked. Maybe I need to. How much damage did I do that day?”
She flushed and averted her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said stiffly.
“Don’t you?” he asked on a cold laugh. “We’ve waltzed around it for three years. I can’t get near you, even to apologize.”
“Why should you care?” she replied. “You wanted me out of your life. You got it. I wouldn’t come near you now for a handful of diamonds!”
“Me or any other man,” he said out of the blue.
She pulled the sheet closer, her eyes on the window, not on him. “Don’t you have something better to do than bait me?”
“I’m taking you down to the ranch to recuperate.”
She went white. She sat up in bed, her eyes like saucers in a face drained of life.
“Oh, my God, don’t!” he said harshly. “Don’t look like that!”
Her hand trembled on the sheet. “No,” she whispered, choking on the word. “Not in your house, with you. Not ever!”
His eyes closed. He couldn’t bear the way she looked. He got up jerkily and went to the window, lighting a cigarette as he stared out at nothing at all. He drew in a harsh breath of pungent smoke and let it out.
“I didn’t realize you were a virgin,” he said curtly. “Not until it was too late and I’d frightened you half to death. Don’t you think I know why you don’t go out with men?” He turned, pinning her shocked eyes with his. “Don’t you think I care about what I’ve done to you?”
She swallowed, dropping her gaze to her cold, nervous hands on the sheet. “It was a long time ago….”
“It might as well have been yesterday,” he said heavily. “God in heaven, stop pushing me away!”
She flushed. “I haven’t.”
He turned, moving back toward the bed, his face as drawn as her own. He paused beside her. “Tess, I know you’re afraid of me physically. I’d have to be blind not to be aware of it. I’m not going to hurt you. I just