Justin

“Why the blush?” he asked, watching her.

She cleared her throat. “It’s warm in here,” she said.

“Is it?” He laughed mirthlessly and sipped his coffee. “In case you wondered, you’ll have your own room. I won’t expect any repayment for giving you a home.”

The blush went scarlet. She had to fight not to fling her cup at him. “You’re making me sound like a charity case.”

“I’ll bet that rankles,” he agreed. “But Tyler can’t help you and hold down a job at the same time. And you’ll never make it on what Holman pays you, with all due respect to him. Secretaries in small towns don’t make much.”

“I’m not mercenary,” she said defensively.

“Sure,” he replied. He sipped his coffee without another word.

“Listen, Justin, it was all my father’s idea, that fake engagement to Tom Wheelor—”

“Your father would never have done that to me,” he interrupted coldly, and his eyes went black, threatening as he leaned forward. “Don’t try to use him for a scapegoat just because he’s dead. He was one of the best friends I had.”

That’s what you think, she mused bitterly. Obviously it wasn’t going to do any good to talk to him. Just because her father had put on a show of liking him was no reason to put the man on a pedestal. God only knew why Justin had such respect for a man who’d caused him years of bitter humiliation.

“You’ll never trust me again, will you?” she asked softly.

He studied her lovely face, her pale green eyes staring at him, her gaze burning into his soul. “No,” he replied with the honesty that was as much a part of him as his craggy face and thick black hair. “There’s too much water under the bridge. But if you think I’m nursing a broken heart, don’t. I found you out just a little too soon. My pride suffered, but you never touched my heart.”

“I don’t imagine any woman ever got close enough to do that,” she said, her voice soft. She traced the rim of the china cup. “Abby told me once that you haven’t dated anyone for a long time.”

“I’m thirty-seven years old,” he reminded her. “I sowed my wild oats years ago, even before I started going with you.” He finished his coffee and put the cup down. His black eyes met hers in a direct gaze. “And we both know that you’ve sown yours, and who with.”

“You don’t know me at all, Justin,” she said. “You never did. You said I was a status symbol to you, and looking back, I guess I was, at that.” She laughed bitterly. “You used to take me around to your friends to show me off, and I felt like one of those purebred horses Ty used to take to the steeplechase.”

He stared at her over his smoking cigarette. “I took you around because you were pretty and sweet, and I liked being with you,” he said heavily. “That was a lot of garbage about wanting you for a status symbol.”

She leaned back wearily. “Thank you for telling me,” she said. “But I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?” She finished her coffee and put the cup down. “Are we going to have a church wedding?” she asked.

“Aren’t we a little old for that kind of ceremony?” he asked.

“I can see you’re still eating live rattlesnakes to keep your venom potent,” she said without flinching. “I want a church wedding.”

He dusted the long ash from his cigarette into an ashtray. “It would be quicker to go to a justice of the peace.”

“I’m not pregnant,” she reminded him, averting her self-conscious face. “There’s no great rush, is there?”

She was tying him up in knots. He glared at her. “All right, have your church wedding. You can stay at Mrs. Simpson’s until we’re married, just to keep everything discreet.” His dark eyes narrowed as he got up and crushed out his cigarette. “There’s just one thing. Don’t you come down that aisle in a white dress. If you dare, I’ll walk out the front door of the church and keep going.”

She lifted her chin. “Don’t you know what every woman in the congregation will think?”

The soft accusation in her green eyes made him feel guilty. He was still hurt by Shelby’s affair with Tom Wheelor. He’d wanted to sting her, but he hadn’t counted on the wounded look in her eyes.

“You can wear something cream-colored,” he muttered reluctantly.

Her lower lip trembled. “Take me to bed.” Her eyes dared him, even though she went scarlet and shuddered at her own boldness. “If you think I’m lying about being innocent, I can prove I’m telling the truth!”

His black eyes cut back to hers, unblinking. “You know as well as I do that it takes a doctor to establish virginity. Even an experienced man can’t tell.”

Her face colored. She could have told him that in her case, it would be more than normally evident, and that her doctor could so easily settle all his doubts. She started to, despite her embarrassment at discussing such an intimate subject, but before she could open her mouth, there was a quick knock at the door and Lopez came in with a message for Justin.

“I’ve got some cattle out in the road,” he told Shelby. “Come on. I’ll run you over to Mrs. Simpson’s first. You can call Abby and make plans for the wedding. She’ll be glad to help with the invitations and such.”

She didn’t even argue. She was too drained. They were going to be married, but he was going to see to it that she was publicly disgraced, like an adultress being paraded through the streets.

Her teeth ground together as they went out to the car. Well, she’d get around him somehow. She wasn’t going to wear anything except a white gown to walk down that aisle. And if he left her standing there, all right. Maybe he didn’t even mean what he’d said. She had to keep believing that, for the sake of her pride. He didn’t know, and she’d hurt him badly. But, oh, how different things had been six years ago.

Shelby had known the Ballengers all her life. Ty, her brother, and Calhoun, Justin’s brother, were friends. That meant that she naturally saw Justin from time to time. At first he’d been cold and very standoffish, but Shelby had thought of him as a challenge. She’d started teasing him gently, flirting shyly. And the change in him had been devastating.

They’d gone to a Halloween party at a mutual friend’s, and someone had handed Shelby a guitar. To Justin’s amazement, she’d played it easily, trying to slow down enough to adjust to the rather inept efforts of their host, who was learning to play lead guitar.

Without a word, Justin had perched himself on a chair beside her and held out his hand. Their host, with a grin that Shelby hadn’t understood at the time, gave the instrument to Justin. He nodded to Shelby, tapped out the meter with his booted foot and launched into a rendition of San Antonio Rose that brought the house down.

After the first shock wore off, Shelby’s long, graceful fingers caught up the rhythm and seconded him to perfection. He looked into her eyes as they wound to a finish, and he smiled. And at that moment, Shelby gave him her heart.

It wasn’t a sudden thing, really. She’d known for years how kind he was. He’d just taken Abby in and given her a home when the girl’s mother and Mr. Ballenger had died in a tragic car wreck. Justin was always around when someone needed a helping hand, and there wasn’t a more generous or harder working man in Jacobsville. He had a temper, too, but he controlled it most of the time, and his men respected him because he didn’t ask them to do anything he wasn’t willing to do himself. He was the boss, along with Calhoun, but Justin was always the first to arrive and the last to leave when there was a job to be done. He had many admirable qualities, and Shelby was young and impressionable, and just at the right age to fall hopelessly in love with an older man.

After that night, she seemed to see Justin everywhere. At the restaurant where she had lunch with a friend on Tuesdays and Thursdays, at social events, at charity bazaars, where she went riding on trails that wound near the Ballenger property. It didn’t occur to her to wonder why such a reclusive, hard-working man suddenly had so much free time and spent it at places she was known to frequent. She was in love, and every second spent with Justin fed her hungry heart.

She hadn’t thought he was interested in her at first. They had a lot in common, despite their very different backgrounds, and he seemed to enjoy talking to her.

Then, very suddenly, everything changed. They were walking down the trail, near where they’d tied their horses, and Justin had suddenly stopped walking to lean against a tree. He didn’t say a word, but the expression in his eyes spoke volumes. He had a smoking cigarette in one hand, but he held out the other one to Shelby.

Shelby didn’t know what to expect when she took it. Her heart was hammering and she looked at his mouth and wanted it obsessively. Perhaps he knew that, but he didn’t take advantage of it.

He pulled her closer. Only their hands were touching. Then, his black eyes searching her soft green ones, he bent slowly, giving her all the time in the world to pull back, to hesitate, to show him that she didn’t want him.

But she did. She stood very still as his hard lips brushed hers, her eyes open, watching him. He lifted his head and searched her eyes.

He dropped the cigarette and ground it out under his boot while her heart went crazy. His arms slid around her, bringing her against him but not intimately. He bent again and kissed her with tenderness and respect, with soft wonder. She kissed him back the same way, her arms around his shoulders, her mind sinking into layers of pleasure.

He drew back a minute later and let her go without a word. He took her hand in his and they started walking.

“Do you want a big wedding, or will a civil service do?” he asked as easily as if they were discussing the weather.

And just that quickly they were engaged. That night they went back to her house and told her father. Although his first expression was explosive, they didn’t see it. He turned away long enough to compose himself, and then he made happy conversation and welcomed Justin into the family. Justin took Shelby home to share the news with Calhoun and Abby, but Abby was spending the night with a girlfriend and Calhoun had flown to Oklahoma to see a man on business.

They’d had the house to themselves. Shelby remembered so vividly how they’d laughed and toasted their future happiness. Then he’d drawn her to him and kissed her in a very different way, and she’d blushed at the intimacy of his tongue probing delicately inside her lips.

“We’re going to be married,” he’d whispered with open delight at her innocence. “I won’t hurt you.”

“I know.” She buried her face in his white silk shirt. “But it’s so new, being like this with you.”

“It’s new for me, too,” he breathed. His chest rose and fell heavily. He moved her hands a little to the side of the buttons on his shirt and pressed them hard against him while he flipped buttons out of buttonholes and then guided her fingers to the thick mat of hair that covered his muscular, suntanned chest.