Heaven, Texas (Chicago Stars #2)(84)

His comment flustered her nearly as much as his kiss. “I don’t have much experience with this.”

“You were married for thirty years.”

“That’s not what I meant. I meant—With anybody else.”

“You’ve never been with anybody but Hoyt, have you?”

“I guess I seem like a real country mouse to you, don’t I?”

“He’s been dead four years.”

She ducked her head and heard the night breeze carry her whispered words. “So have I.”

The silence stretched between them, and when he spoke, she heard something almost like uncertainty in his voice. “I think we need a little time to get to know each other better before this goes farther, don’t you?”

Hope sprang inside her, and her eyes widened as she gazed up at him. “You’re not going to—You won’t press me?”

The mouth that had kissed her only moments before grew hard. “Do you want me to?”

Her hope faded, replaced by a terrible anger. “You’re playing games with me again. How can you be so cruel?”

She spun away from him and rushed back through the terrace doors. He caught her by the shoulders on the landing, just outside the doors to the master bedroom, and she shrank back from the bleakness in his eyes.

“You don’t know what cruelty is,” he said. “You were sheltered from the moment you were born.”

“That’s not true!”

“Isn’t it? Do you know what it’s like to go to bed hungry? Do you know what it’s like to watch your mother die a slow death of shame?”

She could not endure his baiting for another moment. Turning abruptly toward the bedroom doors, she twisted the knob in her hands. “Let’s get this over with.”

As she entered the room, she heard him curse softly beneath his breath. Feeling like a condemned prisoner, she gazed around at the deep red lacquered walls. A massive mahogany bed, covered with dark paisley throw pillows, sat in a recessed cove behind her. Trembling, she turned to him.

“I don’t want the lights on.”

Once again, he seemed hesitant. “Suzy—”

She cut him off. “I won’t do it with the lights on.”

“Do you want to pretend I’m Hoyt?” he said angrily.

“I could never confuse you with Hoyt Denton.”

He spoke as coldly as she had. “I’m taking you downstairs. You can sleep in the guest room.”

“No!” Her hands balled into fists at her sides. “I’m not going to let you do this to me. You’re not going to play any more mind games with me! Both of us know that I’m bought and paid for. But, then, I guess you understand exactly how that works. You must have learned it from your mother.” She spun away, turning toward the bathroom, and then winced as her words came back to her. Regardless of the circumstances, she should never have said such a hateful thing.

“Fill the tub while you’re in there.”

She shivered at the deadly calm in his voice. “I don’t want to do that.”

“I do.” He spoke with no emotion at all. “Leave the lights off if that’s your preference, but fill the tub.”

With a hiss of dismay, she fled into the bathroom and shut the door. Leaning against it, she felt her heart thudding, and tears stung her eyes against the ugliness of the scene. She’d thought she could simply climb beneath the covers in his darkened bedroom, open her legs, and let him do what he had to, quickly and efficiently, while she lost herself in a blessed numbness. She didn’t want to bathe with him or play sexual games. She wanted this first time done with, and she wanted to emerge as unaffected as possible.

She told herself his lovemaking would be mechanical, as cold and dispassionate as the man himself, but as she fumbled with the light switch, the image of a teenage boy with angry eyes and a hungry mouth darted into her mind. She shuddered and pushed it away.

As she undressed, she avoided her reflection in the mirrors that were set against the dark red-tiled walls. The room was opulent with its gold fixtures and black marble sunken tub, which was square in shape and spacious enough to accommodate two people. She stalled as long as she could, neatly folding her clothes, placing them on a paisley upholstered bench that sat near the tub. She set her shoes underneath, side by side like good little soldiers. After wrapping herself in a thick black towel, she ran the water in the huge tub. While it filled, she tried to calm herself by thinking about her garden and what she would plant in the fall, thinking about everything except Hoyt and the fact that she was about to commit adultery.

When the tub was full, she switched on the Jacuzzi, whipping the water into a froth of camouflaging bubbles, then she turned off the lights. There were no windows in the bathroom and it was blessedly dark, so she wouldn’t have to watch his eyes exploring the body that only her husband had caressed. Why did he even want her? Her skin was no longer taut; her stomach hadn’t been flat for years, and she wore an estrogen patch on her hip. Discarding the towel, she lowered herself into the bubbling water.

She didn’t have long to wait before he knocked at the door. “Yes?” she inquired, polite as always, because she had been reared to be polite, because women her age had been brought up to obey the rules, defer to men, and put their own needs after everyone else’s.