Give Me Tonight(49)

"I can't stand being t—told what to do all the time. I want to run . . . but th-there's nowhere . . ."

"I know. I know." He stroked her hair, his fingers trailing through the warmth of it.

A wild impulse came to Addie, to tell him some of the secrets that swelled so painfully in her heart. If only she could. She wanted to be close to him, but that couldn't be reconciled with what she knew about him. She should be terrified of him. Why was the wanting becoming so much stronger than the fear? How tired she was of questions that had no answers. Wearily she pushed all of it out of her mind and let herself be held a little bit longer.

"For a few minutes I hated him," she said after a minute, her voice catching.

"You and the rest of the county," Ben said quietly.

"He's not making himself too popular these days."

"He wants me to be like Caro and Mama."

"No. He doesn't want you to change, no matter what he said back there. He's so damned proud of you, Ad­die. You're the only one around here who won't let him bully you."

"Except you."

"That's because I don't like the alternative."

She sighed shortly. "I felt about a foot tall in that kitchen. Especially when he—"

"He's just on a rampage. You know better than to wave a red flag at him when he's in a contrary mood."

"I shouldn't have cried in front of him," Addie whispered, and her eyes smarted at the memory. "I hate myself more than him for that."

"Don't."

"I proved him right, acting like a child—"

"Addie . . ." He pried her face from his neck and looked into her reddened eyes. "Stop it. It didn't prove anything. No one likes to have his pride stomped on like that, especially not in front of someone else. Some men would have cried too."

He paused for a long moment, his thumb moving in a caress from her cheek to her temple. "I did the last time I saw my father."

"You?" she asked, bewildered. "Why? An argu­ment, or—"

"Always. I never had a civil conversation with him. We always used to argue. It was our way of showing we gave a damn about each other. But the last year at the university I didn't see him even once. I was told to stay away from him. I was bad for his health. I went to visit him after I graduated, to set things right be­tween us and tell him I was going to Texas. And I realized after I told him that he didn't care. Indiffer­ence . . . well, that hurts worse than hatred. That was why I cried. In front of him. And I hate myself for it. "

"Do you still?"

"No. But God knows I'll never forget. And neither will he." He smiled down at her, his teeth gleaming white in the darkness. He looked so invulnerable, it was impossible to imagine him caring about what any­one said or did to him. She couldn't imagine him cry­ing. Why had he entrusted her with such a revelation? Merely to bolster her up? To help ease her own shame?

"Ben," she said tentatively, her heart beating a lit­tle faster, "sometimes you're very nice."

"Never without a reason, honey." All at once he changed, his tenderness melting away to reveal a mocking smile. His eyes seemed to bum right through her clothing.

"I didn't think so," she said, suddenly nervous.

They were going to pick up what they had started be­fore Russell had interrupted them in the kitchen. The taste of anticipation was sweet on her lips. "What was your reason for being so nice tonight?"

"Maybe I want something from you."

"Too bad you won't get it."

"Oh, I will eventually."

"Not if! can help it," she parried, wondering why he wasn't trying to take advantage of her.

His smile widened as he saw that her lips had parted.

"Liar. You're dying for me to kiss you."

She tore herself away from him and gave him a shove. "If you ever try to kiss me, the only thing you'll get is a swift kick, you self-important jackass—"

"What a temper," he said, and laughed, catching her loosely in the circle of his arms. "Don't flyaway just yet, Addie. I'm still planning to finish what we started back there."

"You leave me alone!" She wedged her arms be­tween them, preventing him from drawing her closer. "If you feel the urge to be with someone, go visit your woman in Blue Ridge."

There was ruthless amusement in Ben's smile. Ad­die could have bitten her tongue off as she realized she had sounded jealous.

"What makes you think I have a woman in Blue Ridge?"

"Caroline said you did."

"How would she know?"

"She listens to gossip—"

"Seems to be a family habit."

"Do you visit a woman in Blue Ridge?"

His voice was silky. "Now, why would I want to do that, when I've got you here?"

Addie twisted away from him with an infuriated sound. Ben laughed and blew her a kiss as she stomped off to the house, his eyes following her alertly until she disappeared from sight.

5

"ADELINE, YOU DON'T KNOW HOW HARD DADDY'S takin' this. You said hardly a word to him yesterday, or the day before. Why don't you talk to him? You don't know how much you're hurtin' him."