Best Kept Secrets(95)

"I disagree," Sarah Jo argued petulantly.

' 'What difference does it make now if her mama and daddy

weren't married until after she was in the oven? Hell, that's

so commonplace now it's not even considered a sin anymore."

"It makes a difference in the way she views Celina. Up

until now, she's had her on a pedestal."

"So what?"

"Celina hardly deserves a pedestal," Sarah Jo snapped.

"I thought it was time everybody stopped *footing

around with Alex and set her straight about her mother."

"Why?"

"Why? Because she's trying to ruin us, that's why. I decided

to stop catering to her and to fight back. I used the only

ammunition I had." As usual, during scenes like this, Sarah

Jo became overwrought. "I was only trying to protect you

and Junior."

Actually, Angus thought, it had taken a tremendous amount

of courage for Sarah Jo to confront a self-assured woman like

Alex. He still thought Sarah Jo could have refrained from

telling Alex about her folks, but her motive had been unselfish.

She'd been protecting her family. Her valiant effort

deserved better than his criticism. He leaned down and kissed

her forehead.

"I appreciate your fighting spirit, but none of us needs

your protection, honey." He laughed at the thought. "How



could a little thing like you protect one of us big, strapping

boys? I've got plenty of money and plenty of know-how to

handle any little problem that crops up. A redhead that only

stands five feet six inches tall is hardly worth a second's

worry."

"If you could resurrect that odious Pasty Hickam, I'm sure

he would disagree," she said. "Look what happened to him.

Unlike you and Junior, and obviously, every other man, I'm

immune to the girl's charms." Her voice developed an edge

of desperation. "Angus, can't you see it? Junior is falling in

love with her."

"I fail to see why that's so god-awful," he said with a

beaming smile.

"It would be a disaster," Sarah Jo cried softly. "Her

mother broke his heart. Don't you care about that?"

Frowning, Angus reminded her, "That was a long time

ago. And Alex isn't like her mother."

"I'm not so sure." Sarah Jo stared into space.

"Alex isn't fickle and flighty like Celina was," he said.

"She's a tad too bossy, but maybe Junior needs that. He

walked all over his other wives, and they laid down and let

him do it. Maybe he needs a wife who'll tell him what's

what."

"Where is he, by the way? Is he still angry with me?"

she asked anxiously.

"He was upset, but he'll get over it, like he always does.

He said he was going out to get drunk."

They laughed together. Sarah Jo was the first to turn serious

again. "I hope he'll drive safely."

"He, uh, will probably be spending the night out."

"Oh?"

"Wouldn't surprise me," Angus said. "Alex needs some

time to sort herself out. Junior might be carrying a torch, but

he's not dead from the waist down. He'll find a woman who'll

give him the comfort he needs tonight."

His gaze lowered to his wife's decolletage, which was

smooth and luminescent with the body powder she had used



after her bath. "He's got a man's appetites, just like his

daddy."

"Oh, Angus," she sighed wearily, as his hand waded

through layers of lace in search of her breast.

"I could use some comforting myself."

"You men! Is that all you ever think about? You make

me--"

"You make me horny."

"Don't use that kind of language. It's crude. And I don't

want to do this tonight. My headache's coming back."

His kiss cut off any further objections. She submitted, as

he knew she would. She always put up token resistance,

but she never refused him. From the cradle, she had been

coached to accept her marital duties, just as she had to properly

serve tea.

That she responded to him out of a sense of obligation

rather than passion didn't stop him from wanting her; it might

even have enhanced his desire. Angus enjoyed a challenge.

He undressed quickly and lowered himself on top of her.

He fumbled with the buttons on her gown and finally managed,

with no assistance from her, to get it open. Her breasts

were as pert and shapely as they had been on their wedding

night, when he had first beheld and touched them.

He kissed them now with polite restraint. Her nipples were

small. His stroking tongue was rarely successful in coaxing

them erect. He doubted she knew they were supposed to get

erect, unless some of those novels she read were more sexually