looked around, cocked an eyebrow and moved her back around the room in his arms. “Sorry.”
She didn’t know what to think. She was tingling all over. She wanted him to hold her so close that she could feel every inch of his powerful frame against her. She wanted him to bend his head and kiss her so hard that her lips would sting. She wanted…something. Something more. She didn’t understand these new and unexpected longings. It was getting hard to breathe and her heartbeat was almost shaking her. She couldn’t bear it if he noticed.
He did notice. She was like melting ice in his arms. He felt her shiver when he drew her even closer, so that her soft, pert little breasts were hard against his chest through the thin suit jacket he was wearing. He liked the way she smelled, of wildflowers in the sun.
He drank in that scent. It made his head swim. His arm contracted. He was feeling sensations that he’d almost forgotten. Odalie didn’t like him close to her, so his longing for her had been stifled. But Maddie was soft and warm and receptive. Too receptive.
His mouth touched her ear. “You make me hungry,” he whispered roughly.
“Ex-excuse me?” she stammered.
“I want to lay you down on the carpet and kiss your breasts until my body stops hurting.”
She caught her breath and stopped dancing. She pushed back from him, her eyes blazing, her face red with embarrassment. She wanted to kick him in the shin, but that would cause more problems.
She turned away from him, almost shivering with the emotions he’d kindled in her, shocked at the things he’d said to her. She almost ran toward John, who was walking toward her, frowning.
“What is it?” he asked suddenly, putting his arm around her.
She hid her face against him.
He glared at Cort, who was approaching them with more conflicting emotions than he’d ever felt in his life.
“You need to go home,” John told Cort in a patient tone that was belied by his expression. “You’ve had too much to drink and you’re going to make a spectacle of yourself and us if you keep this up.”
“I want to dance with her,” Cort muttered stubbornly.
“Well, it’s pretty obvious that she doesn’t want to dance with you.” John leaned closer. “I can pick you up over my shoulder and carry you out of here, and I will.”
“I’d like to see you try it,” Cort replied, and his eyes blazed with anger.
Another cattleman, seeing a confrontation building, came strolling over and deliberately got between the two men.
“Hey, Cort,” he said pleasantly, “I need to ask you about those new calves your dad’s going to put up at the fall production sale. Can I ride home with you and see them?”
Cort blinked. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“The barn doesn’t have lights?” the older man asked, raising an eyebrow.
Cort was torn. He knew the man. He was from up around the Frio river. He had a huge ranch, and Cort’s dad was hungry for new customers.
“The barn has lights. I guess we could…go look at the calves.” He was feeling very light-headed. He wasn’t used to alcohol. Not at all.
“I’ll drive you home,” the rancher said gently. “You can have one of your cowboys fetch your car, can’t you?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Thanks,” John told the man.
He shrugged and smiled. “No problem.”
He indicated the door. Cort hesitated for just a minute. He looked back at Maddie with dark, stormy eyes, long enough that she dropped her own like hot bricks. He gave John a smug glance and followed the visiting cattleman out the door.
“Oh, boy,” John said to himself. “Now we get to the complications.”
“Complications?” Maddie was only half listening. Her eyes were on Cort’s long, elegant back. She couldn’t remember ever being so confused.
After the party was over, John drove her to her front door and cut off the engine.
“What happened?” he asked her gently, because she was still visibly upset.
“Cort was out of line,” she murmured without lifting her eyes.
“Not surprising. He doesn’t drink. I can’t imagine what got him started.”
“I guess he’s missing your sister,” she replied with a sigh. She looked up at him. “She’s really coming home?”
“She says she is,” he told her. He made a face. “That’s Odalie. She always knows more than anybody else about any subject. My parents let her get away with being sassy because she was pretty and talented.” He laughed shortly. “My dad let me have it if I was ever rude or impolite or spoke out of turn. My brother had it even rougher.”
She cocked her head. “You never talk about Tanner.”
He grimaced. “I can’t. It’s a family thing. Maybe I’ll tell you one day. Anyway, Dad pulled me up short if I didn’t toe the line at home.” He shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe how many times I had to clean the horse stalls when I made him mad.”
“Odalie is beautiful,” Maddie conceded, but in a subdued tone.
“Only a very few people know what she did to you,” John said quietly. “It shamed the family. Odalie was only sorry she got caught. I think she finally realized how tragic the results could have been, though.”
“How so?”
“For one thing, she never spoke again to the girlfriend who put her up to it,” he said. “After she got out of school, she stopped posting on her social page and threw herself into studying music.”
“The girlfriend moved away, didn’t she, though?”
“She moved because threats were made. Legal ones,” John confided. “My dad sent his attorneys after her. He was pretty sure that Odalie didn’t know how to link internet sites and post simultaneously, which is what was done about you.” He touched her short hair gently. “Odalie is spoiled and snobbish and she thinks she’s the center of the universe. But she isn’t cruel.”
“Isn’t she?”
“Well, not anymore,” he added. “Not since the lawyers got involved. You weren’t the only girl she victimized. Several others came forward and talked to my dad when they heard about what happened to you in the library. He was absolutely dumbfounded. So was my mother.” He shook his head. “Odalie never got over what they said to her. She started making a real effort to consider the feelings of other people. Years too late, of course, and she’s still got that bad attitude.”
“It’s a shame she isn’t more like your mother,” Maddie said gently, and she smiled. “Mrs. Everett is a sweet woman.”
“Yes. Mom has an amazing voice and is not conceited. She was offered a career in opera but she turned it down. She liked singing the blues, she said. Now, she just plays and sings for us, and composes. There’s still the occasional journalist who shows up at the door when one of her songs is a big hit, like Desperado’s.”
“Do they still perform… I mean Desperado?” she qualified.
“Yes, but not so much. They’ve all got kids now. It makes it tough to go on the road, except during summer holidays.”
She laughed. “I love their music.”
“Me, too.” He studied her. “Odd.”
“What is?”
“You’re so easy to talk to. I don’t get along with most women. I’m strung up and nervous and