Love, Come to Me(28)

“You did it on purpose,” she said in a low voice. He stared at her without making any effort to wipe the hunger from his gaze.

“I did it for you,” he answered huskily. “Though God knows it’s damned irritating to have to admit.” There was a self-mocking edge to his voice. “You seem to be a weakness of mine.”

“Don’t think I owe you anything!” Hurriedly she turned away and scooted down the side of the rock. He caught her beneath the elbows, helping her down, and she was shocked by the feelings that rushed over at the simple touch of his hands on her bare arms. Even though all these people were near and Daniel was just a few feet away, she wanted to be held by Heath Rayne. For one explosive moment she felt the urge to cling to him, bury her face against his copper skin and inhale his scent. Though she fought against the craving, Lucy couldn’t deny that he had a power over her that no one else had, not Daniel or anyone else. The absoluteness of it frightened her. Wrenching herself away from him, she ran to the group that surrounded Daniel, fighting her way in until she reached Daniel’s side. When she looked over at the boulder, Heath was no longer there.

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing,” Lucy murmured, squinting against the brightness of the sunlight, which glinted off the sides of the train. They walked by the milk car while farmers from the edge of town were stacking the last of their produce on board. Daniel’s face remained stony as Lucy accompanied him to the passenger car. After a good fifteen minutes of badgering, she was wishing heartily that she had not promised to see Daniel off on the train headed for Boston. “What time is your railroad meeting going to be?” she asked. “I hope the train will be on time.”

“Sally said you and he were looking at each other during the shooting match.”

“I was looking at you!”

“I don’t want you talking to him anymore. Not one word, ever again, unless I’m there.”

“What if we pass each other in the street? Should I just ignore him? That’s bad manners!”

Her protest seemed to incense him. “Lucy, I won’t tolerate any argument from you on this. If we’re going through with this wedding, and if we’re going to become man and wife—”

“What do you mean, if?”

“Then we’re going to have to come to an understanding. You’ve been different the past few months than I’ve ever known you to be, wild and argumentative, trying to push me to the edge of my limits. But no more. I don’t want you talking to that . . . that Southerner any more. I want you to cool your friendship with Sally. She’s a bad influence on you. I don’t want you going to socials or gatherings without me, since your father obviously doesn’t keep a close eye on you.”

“I’m not a child to be watched over!”

“If you want to be my wife, there are some rules we’re going to establish right now.”

“Daniel . . .” Lucy’s cheeks turned red as she trembled with frustration. Ever since the shooting match a few days ago, he had worn an austere expression that suited his slim features far too well and showed no signs of leaving soon. The dark brown eyes had been cold, his mouth tight-lipped underneath the immaculately groomed mustache.

“The train’s going to leave soon,” he said, hardly looking at her. “I’m getting on board. We’ll talk more this evening.”

As he climbed aboard the train, Lucy watched him and folded her arms across her chest, her jaw mutinously stiff. Daniel thought that she had changed. There was no doubt in her mind that he had changed as well.

The train pulled laboriously away from the depot and started down the iron tracks. Lucy watched the lumbering bulk of it turn into a small blotch in the distance before she sighed moodily and turned around to head back home.

“You two have such interesting conversations.”

Startled, she looked up in the direction of the voice. Her eyes narrowed on Heath Rayne’s handsome, rascally smile.

“Are you spying on me?” she asked gruffly, glancing around to make sure that no one was near enough to overhear them. Heath shrugged, slipping his hands in the pockets of his trousers. The action made the well-fitted trousers almost indecently tight, outlining the powerful shape of his thighs. Lucy berated herself for noticing such things about him. But there was an aura about him that few men possessed, of full-blooded maleness and confidence, that she’d have to be blind not to notice.

“No, I’m not spying.” The corners of his wide mouth tilted in an irrepressible smile. “I have a few things to take care of in town, and I happened to catch a glimpse of that charming hat.”

Defensively she raised a hand to check the position of her dainty white hat, which was festooned with a pearl butterfly and a bouquet of marabou feathers and pearl drops.

“Don’t touch it. It’s perfect,” he said, and her eyes fell before his frankly appreciative glance.

“If you overheard anything—”

“I did,” he assured her.

“We were discussing private matters—”

“I know.” Heath seemed to take a great deal of enjoyment in enumerating the list of rules Daniel had given her. “Don’t be friends with Sally, don’t be seen with me, don’t go to meetings or dances without him at your shoulder. Even after you’re married, he’ll still be telling you what to do and who to talk to—”