Wyoming True - Diana Palmer Page 0,28
made her proud.
“We’ve both lived through tragedies,” she said.
He caught her hand and pressed it to his mouth. He scowled. “How do you know that I have?”
“You have an expressive face, when you’re not pretending,” she said simply and gave him a sad smile. “I guess people who’ve known tragedy can see it in other people.”
“Not many have ever seen mine,” he said curtly. Not even Mina had noticed, and she was sensitive.
“Or mine,” she agreed. “Most people have enough trauma in their own lives, without adding my bad memories to them.”
He smiled faintly, fascinated by her. “That’s the way I feel.”
Her fingers traced his chiseled mouth. He dazzled her. “I don’t think I’ve felt safe with a man since my first husband died,” she said in a soft, husky tone.
He glared at her. No man wanted a woman to feel just safe. He wanted her to feel passionate, hungry, all those things.
She laughed softly. “Bad choice of words,” she said, when she saw the irritation he wasn’t bothering to hide. “Let me rephrase it. You’re the first man I’m not afraid of.”
“Oh.”
It was only the one word, but his face relaxed and lost its brief anger.
“I know that you won’t hurt me,” she added. She smiled. “It may not seem like much to you, but it’s a world of difference to me.”
He cocked his head. “You don’t flirt with me,” he pointed out.
“You’d see right through it if I did,” she replied. “You’re a no-nonsense man most of the time. Hard, when you have to be, but compassionate and kind.”
There was a faint ruddy flush on his high cheekbones.
“Now I’ve put my foot in my mouth again,” she sighed, grimacing.
“You see too deep,” he said simply.
“I get it,” she replied. She smiled up at him. “No peeking under that mask you wear, right?”
“Right,” he returned. She made him uncomfortable with her surprising insight. He didn’t want people close. Not emotionally close. His only lapse had been Mina, whom he’d loved.
She studied his drifting expressions with fascination. “You don’t want anybody close emotionally, do you?” she asked slowly. “I mean, I know you cared deeply for Mina. But you had to fight your instincts even with her. Somebody hurt you deeply, scarred you.”
He withdrew his hand. He was glaring at her now.
She moved away discreetly and turned back toward the ocean. The moon made a trail of sparkling light in its wake. The waves ran into the shore noisily with whitecaps grasping the white sand only for an instant before the ocean dragged them back out to sea.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said, her back to him. “My first husband was fond of beaches, and he had houses in Jamaica and the Bahamas, where I could stay when I liked. I spent a lot of time wading in the surf, just like here.” She ran back to the surf and danced in and out of the foaming whitecaps until her hip started to protest.
She made a face and turned, walking slowly back to Jake, who had both hands in his pockets. He was still scowling, but now his attention was on Ida, not the past.
“You’re limping,” he noted.
She made a face. “I know better than to go dancing with waves,” she said and laughed softly. “My hip won’t permit much of that. Everything aches when I overdo.”
He moved closer. “Hurting?” he asked softly.
She nodded. She bent to put her shoes down and bit back a groan.
“Here. Lean on me.”
She did, while she got her feet back into her shoes. “Stupid, running through the waves like that,” she confessed.
“Which I mentioned,” he pointed out.
She drew in a breath. “So you did.”
“Was it just your hip and thigh?” he asked quietly.
She sighed. “Mostly.”
He was reading between the lines. A fall like hers must have produced a lot of injuries. More than she’d admitted to. “And they let your damned husband out of jail,” he growled.
“Ex-husband,” she reminded him. “Very ex.”
“So he is.”
She started to walk toward the car, very slowly and with obvious pain.
“Come here,” he said gently. He bent and lifted her, holding her close while he walked.
She looked up at his square chin, nicely shaven, and the scent of expensive cologne wafted down into her nostrils. He was warm and very strong. She’d never felt so safe in her whole life. She curled into him, her arms around his neck, and laid her cheek on his broad chest.
That soft submission made his heart race, hardened his body. He was being drawn