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"I didn't hit her, did I?" he asked mockingly. "I hit the window. That reminds me, you'd better call Jack Harper and get him over here tomorrow to put in another windowpane." He looked uncomfortable. "And, uh, you don't need to go into details about how it got broken. Do you?"
"I'll tell him an eagle flew through it," she agreed.
He glared and stomped off toward his car.
Shelby started toward where she usually parked her car when it dawned on her that she didn't have a car.
"Oh, Mr. Holman," she called without thinking, "could you drop me off at the feedlot? I haven't been able to get Justin, and he won't be here for another hour to pick me up."
"Sure. Come on."
He helped her into the black Mercedes and shot off down the road toward the Ballenger feedlot. "What happened to your new car?" he asked. "Engine trouble?"
She smiled wistfully. She hadn't told him about the sports car, even though he knew she had been driving Justin's car the day before. "Justin gave it to Mr. Doyle."
"He runs a junkyard," Mr. Holman reminded her.
"That's right, he does, and he has a brand-new car crusher." She sighed. "Justin said if I liked, he could have my sports car made into a nice wall decoration. It's about five inches thick..."
"What did he do that for?" the lawyer asked.
"He thinks I'm reckless," Shelby said. "I think he's planning to buy me something sedate. Like a Sherman tank."
Mr. Holman smiled. "I hope I didn't get you into any trouble this morning," he said belatedly as he turned off on the long road that led to the feedlot. "I wasn't thinking. I was glad to see you because I knew that you could talk her out of the office if the firemen didn't work."
"Tammy's really a nice woman," she said.
He glowered. "She's a pain."
"If you'd give her half a chance, she might surprise you. She's very efficient."
He s.h.i.+fted against the seat. "I did notice that you're pretty rushed. I didn't mean to rob you of her help."
She glanced at him. "You might consider asking Tammy to come back. Maybe she's sorry, too."
He pursed his lips. "Maybe she is. I suppose I could drop by her dad's house and just mention that she could come to work tomorrow."
"It might be a better idea to call first," Shelby said, remembering Tammy's temper.
"I'll do that." He pulled up at the feedlot office and grinned. "Thanks for being so understanding."
"My pleasure. No, don't get out. I can open the door all by myself." She laughed. She got out, smiling at him, and waved him away.
Behind her, Justin stood watching, a cigarette smoking in his lean fingers, his height emphasized by the jeans and chambray s.h.i.+rt and boots he wore around the feedlot. His hat was pulled low over his black eyes and he looked dangerous.
Shelby turned and saw him and stopped suddenly. "Uh, hi."
He lifted the cigarette to his mouth. "You're an hour early."
"We had a problem at the office." She flushed, and that made it worse. "I need a ride to the house."
"Calhoun's going that way," he returned. "He can drop you off."
He went inside the building, leaving her standing in the sun with the sound of the cattle lowing and moving in the sprawling complex ringing in her ears.
Calhoun came out in a beige suit, scowling. "Justin is sitting behind his desk with his feet crossed, not doing a d.a.m.ned thing, and he dragged me out of a meeting to run you home," he said, stunned. "Not that I mind, Shelby. I'm just curious. Is he at you again?"
"When isn't he?" she said curtly. "Mr. Holman brought me out here. I guess Justin thinks I seduced him on the highway!"
"Shhh!" Calhoun put his finger to his lips and pulled her toward his white Jaguar. "Don't make him any worse than he already is. His secretary's already threatened to walk out!"
"He has that effect on so many people," she said with venom in her tone. "Overbearing, unfeeling, insensitive, insufferable...!"
"Now, now," he soothed. "You'll just work yourself into a lather, and it won't solve anything. He's only jealous. You're a woman. You ought to know exactly what to do about that."
She flushed and averted her face as he helped her into the front seat and got in beside her.
He glanced in her direction curiously, noting her scarlet blush. It amazed him how much alike Justin and Shelby were; both old-fas.h.i.+oned and full of hang-ups.
He started the car and cleared his throat. "Do you mind if I say something pretty personal, Shelby? Since we're related these days and all?"
She couldn't look at him. "That depends on what it is."
"Yes, I can imagine. You react just like Justin does," he mused. He pulled out onto the road and pressed down on the accelerator. "Well, it's this. My brother isn't exactly a lily, but in recent years he's been a hermit. He hasn't dated anybody. He's sort of rusty with women, is what I'm driving at."
"I could tell you what he is, if you weren't his brother," she muttered, clutching her purse.
"Shelby," he said patiently, "the best way to get a man's attention and knock the fire off his temper is just to hug him as hard as you can and let nature take care of the details."
She went scarlet. She knew that Calhoun was pretty much like her boss, a man who knew women well. But if she couldn't talk to Justin about intimacy, she certainly couldn't talk to Calhoun about it.
"He wouldn't like it," she said in a husky voice.
"He'd like it," he returned. He reached over and patted her shoulder gently. "He's so crazy about you that he can't see straight. You take my word for it, honey, he'll fold up like an accordion if you use the right approach. And that's all I'll say. How are you and the sports car getting along?"
She gaped at him. He didn't know? "Justin didn't tell you?"
"Justin doesn't talk much when he's at the office," he said pleasantly. "Mostly he works, and when he doesn't, he broods."
"I had a near-miss in the car, actually," she mumbled. "I spun out and almost hit a truck." She felt his stunned glance. "Justin took the car away and had it crushed."
"Good for Justin," he said unexpectedly. "That car was dangerous." He stared at her. "And you know better than most how dangerous."
She cleared her throat. "Switzerland was years ago."
"All the same, Justin was right. He wouldn't want to have to bury you so shortly after your wedding, you know."
"Wouldn't he?" she asked bitterly. "I think he hates me."
"I wish I could convince you what a joke that statement is." He pulled up in front of the house and smiled at her. "I dare you. Play up to him and see what happens. He's as unknowledgeable about women as you are about men, so keep that in mind. And don't, for G.o.d's sake, mention that I said so," he said under his breath. "The one time Justin and I really got into it, we both had to have st.i.tches. Okay?"
"Okay." She opened the door and glanced back shyly. "You're a nice man."
"Of course I am," he said. "Ask Abby if you don't believe it." He grinned with the smugness of a man who knows how much he's loved. "See you."
"Tell Abby h.e.l.lo and give her my love."
He laughed and waved as he went down the road. Shelby thought about what he'd said and wondered if she might be able to get up enough nerve to take his advice.
If Calhoun was right, and Justin was as backward as she was, it might really be interesting to see what would happen. Then she remembered his ardor and wondered if Calhoun actually knew his brother at all. The Justin Shelby experienced on the sofa wasn't a man who didn't know what to do with women. Justin was pretty tight-lipped with everyone, and Calhoun might not know exactly how well informed his big brother was.
But the thought of tempting Justin was delicious, and now she had no more reason to be afraid of him. She knew that he could be tender and that he wouldn't lose control too soon. And now, thank goodness, there would be no more painful barrier to inhibit her. She smiled thoughtfully as she went up the steps, already making exciting plans for the night ahead.
Chapter Eight.
It was well after dark when Justin finally came home from the feedlot, looking worn and in a black temper. He spared a glance at the dining room, where Shelby was eating her lonely meal, and went upstairs without even a h.e.l.lo.
She sighed, wondering if there was worse to come. She finished her dessert and was sipping coffee when he came back downstairs. He'd obviously just showered, because his hair was still damp around the temples. He was wearing a clean gray-and-blue-plaid Western s.h.i.+rt with gray denim slacks, and his temper hadn't improved.
He sat at the head of the table and began to fill a plate with lukewarm beef and gravy and b.u.t.tered new potatoes.
"Maria could warm it up for you in the microwave," Shelby ventured.
"If I want Maria to do anything, I'll ask her," he said.
So it was going to be that kind of evening. She put her napkin aside and straightened the skirt of the red-and-white dress she'd worn deliberately because Justin had thought it s.e.xy.
She wasn't quite sure how to reach him. He looked so unapproachable, just as he had in the earliest days of their relations.h.i.+p. She studied his hard face quietly. "Justin, if you're still angry about this afternoon, Mr. Holman closed the office an hour early, and I was already on the street when I realized I didn't have a car," she said. "He was kind enough to drop me off at the feedlot on his way home. He comes right by it, you know."
He looked up, black eyes glittering. "And you know how I feel about your d.a.m.ned boss."
She glowered at him. "Yes, I know, but I didn't think that you'd mind him giving me a ride home. He's a perfect gentleman when he's around me," she said shortly. "I've told you that until I'm blue in the face, Justin!"
"You might have phoned me," he returned. "I'd have come after you."
"I didn't even know if you were at the feedlot," she said. She put her fork down gently. "I didn't know if you'd come, either, after the way you roared off this morning without even saying goodbye."
He pushed his plate away, hardly touched. "He was waiting for you, pacing back and forth," he replied icily. "And then he practically carried you to the sidewalk. I d.a.m.ned near got out of the car and went for him then, Shelby. I don't like other men touching you."
If he expected her to be irritated by that flat statement, he was disappointed. The admission made her pulse skip. She stared at him, wondering if he even realized what he was admitting. She sighed wistfully, and smiled at him. "I'm glad."
He frowned. "What?"
"I'm glad you don't like other men touching me." She picked up her coffee and sipped it. "I don't like other women touching you, either."
He s.h.i.+fted in the chair. "We weren't talking about that."
She smiled, because he seemed to have forgotten what they had been talking about. She pushed back her long, dark hair and her eyes sparkled as they searched his. "Calhoun said you dragged him out of a meeting and made him drive me to the house."
He reached for a cigarette and looked uncomfortable. "I was pretty hot."
She wondered if it was his jealousy of her boss, or frustration. Calhoun had intrigued her by what he'd said about the way Justin would react if she made advances. She wanted to find out herself.
But thinking about it and doing it were entirely different things. Sitting there, looking at the taciturn, stern man across from her, she couldn't really imagine going over to him and sitting in his lap. It would have been lovely, though, to feel welcome if she reached out to him.
She colored delicately from her own thoughts and put her coffee cup down. "What about a car for me?" she asked.
"I forgot," he murmured. "We'll go tomorrow."
"All right."
He ignored the fresh apple pie in a saucer beside him and finished his coffee. "I got a new movie in the mail today," he remarked. "A black-and-white war movie, made in the early forties. I thought I might watch it."
"You'll enjoy that, I know."
He eyed her warily. "You could watch it with me. If you wanted to," he added carelessly, so she wouldn't know how badly he wanted her to.
But she sensed it. She smiled. "If I wouldn't be in your way, I'd like to. I like war movies."
"Do you?" He smiled slowly. "How about science-fiction?"
Her eyes lit up. "Oh, yes!"
He actually laughed. "I've got quite a collection of old ones, and a good many new releases."
"All we need now is some popcorn," she remarked.
"Maria!" he called.
The housekeeper came to the doorway. "Si, Senor Justin?"
He threw a request at her in rapid-fire Spanish, and Maria grinned and answered in kind. She laughed, made another remark, which caused Justin's cheeks to go a ruddy shade, and went back to the kitchen with a wink in Shelby's direction.
"What did she say?" Shelby asked, because her Spanish was sketchy at best and she didn't have Justin's facility for languages.
"That she'd make the popcorn and bring it in," he replied shortly. "Well, come on, if you're coming."
He got up and went out of the room, leaving her to follow.
The living room was cozy with only the end table lamp on. Shelby curled up on the sofa, barefooted, with the bowl of popcorn between herself and Justin. Maria stuck her head in long enough to say that she and Lopez were going to her sister's for the evening, and then the house was quiet except for the loud excitement of bombs going off and machine-gun fire as the Allies and the Axis fought it out all over again on the screen.
When they got down to the inevitable unpopped kernels in the bottom of the bowl, Justin moved it and took off his boots before he lit a cigarette, propping his long legs on the coffee table. As the movie ran on, Shelby found herself moving helplessly closer to him. Her hand slid hesitantly across to his free one, where it lay on the sofa. She started to touch it and then stopped, shy and uncertain.