Against the Rules Read online

  Later that afternoon, after hours of trying to pass the time by cleaning the downstairs—a process that didn’t proceed as quickly as it should have because she kept going to the window to see if Rule had returned—Cathryn at last heard the pickup and ran to the window again to see him pulling up beside the supply shed. Her heart was beating so swiftly that she could feel her skin heating, and for a moment she forced herself to take slow, deep breaths before she walked down to where he was. She had forgotten the quarrel they’d had that morning. She only knew that he had been gone for hours and that she was hungry for the sight of him, a secret hunger that had to be fed immediately.

  She was still out of earshot of the shed when she stopped abruptly, paling as she watched the two figures who had been unloading the remainder of the fencing. Ricky was helping Rule, and though Cathryn couldn’t hear what they were saying, she could see Ricky’s face, see how it glowed as the young woman laughed up at him. Suddenly Ricky dropped the box of tools she was carrying and hugged him, her pretty face turned up to him as she laughed unrestrainedly. She rose on tiptoe and quickly kissed him, then sank back as Rule’s hands went to her shoulders and moved her back from him. He must not have scolded her, because Ricky laughed again; then the two returned to their task.

  Cathryn turned away, moving at an angle so they wouldn’t look up and see her. As she did so she caught sight of another figure and she halted, her head jerking around. Lewis Stovall was leaning against the corral, his hard face expressionless as he watched Rule and Ricky unloading the truck. There was a certain tautness about his stance that puzzled her, but she was too upset to worry about him right then.

  Cathryn returned quickly to the house, so shaken that she went to her bedroom and sat on the bed, her eyes wide with shock. Ricky had hugged Rule, had kissed him! He hadn’t returned the embrace and it certainly hadn’t been what she would call a passionate encounter, yet she felt sick as she remembered how Ricky’s slender arms had gone around his waist. Lorna had said that Ricky was in love with Rule, but Cathryn hadn’t believed it then and still found it hard to swallow. Yet if it were true...no wonder Ricky was so bitter, trying wildly to hurt Cathryn even if she had to use Rule as her weapon. Had Rule ever made love to her? Had Mr. Franklin’s accusation not been so wild, after all?

  No, it wasn’t true. She couldn’t let herself think that it was, because she couldn’t bear the thought of it. Moaning softly, she pressed her icy hands over her face. Ricky didn’t have any right to touch him! That was the basis of it all. Recognizing her sick jealousy for what it was, Cathryn tried to chide herself out of it. After all, hadn’t she herself given him permission to go to other women? He wasn’t a monk—far from it. He was a healthy, hotly virile man. But she hadn’t meant it! She couldn’t stand the thought of any other woman melting under his demands.

  It had been an innocent scene. She had to believe that, or she wouldn’t be able to bear it. It had been only a quick hug and a kiss, and he hadn’t returned either of them. She had no reason to be jealous, no reason at all.

  Yet it was more than an hour before she felt sufficiently under control to go downstairs and sit through dinner, carefully keeping her face blank and trying not to look directly at either Rule or Ricky. She wanted to do something violent, and she was afraid that if she saw either of them smirk she would lose her temper. Rule would like that; he had a tendency to use her loss of control against her.

  She toyed listlessly with her beef casserole, neatly separating it into four equal portions on her plate and taking a tiny bit from each section in turn. The day had been a total disaster. Like a fool she had let Rule bully her into quitting her job. Now she realized that she had given up one more piece of her personal independence, bringing her that much more firmly under Rule’s domination. The fight with Mr. Franklin, the fight with Rule, the shock of seeing Ricky kiss him...all of it was just too much. She began to wish he’d say something nasty so she could throw her plate at him.

  But the meal continued silently, until at length Rule excused himself and went into the study, shutting himself inside. Feeling like she could scream, Cathryn got ready for bed. What else was there to do? She vented some of her frustration on the pillow, then tried to read. At length she succeeded in making herself sleepy and she turned out the light, sliding down between the sheets. Moments after she had closed her eyes she heard a faint sound and her eyes flew open, her heartbeat quickening to double time as she wondered if Rule had decided to break their agreement and come to her anyway. But no one was there, and to her horror tears welled up in her eyes. Quickly she subdued the impulse to sob like a child.

  Had he already reduced her to that? After one night of his lovemaking, was she so addicted to him that she craved him like a potent drug?

  Damn him, didn’t he realize how upsetting the day had been to her?

  No, he didn’t realize, and she was lucky that he didn’t. If he had any inkling that she was feeling so weak and uncertain of herself, he would move in like the hungry panther he reminded her of, ready for the metaphorical kill.

  If only David were still alive! He had been a warm, sheltering harbor, a quiet, strong man who had loved her and left her free to be herself, instead of demanding more than she had to give. Rule demanded more. He wanted all of her under his control, and the terrible thing about it was that she would glory in being his completely, if only she could be certain of him, secure in his love. But how could she be? He would take everything she had to give but keep himself guarded, locked away from her searching heart.

  She wouldn’t be able to stand it, every day spent worrying over the puzzle that was Rule’s personality, becoming more and more frantic as she failed to solve it. Why had she agreed to stay? Was she trying to drive herself crazy?

  The thought of Chicago was heaven. She could still go back; she still had to close up her apartment, and she definitely needed her clothing. She had been scratching by with the bare minimum that she had brought, since she had thought that she would be staying only a weekend. That would be an ironclad excuse to leave, and once she was in Chicago, out of his reach, she wouldn’t come back. There were other jobs.

  Clinging to the thought of her quiet apartment, she drifted to sleep. It must have been a sound sleep, because she didn’t awaken when her door was opened the next morning. It wasn’t until a hard hand slapped her bottom lightly that she shot up in bed, pushing her hair out of her eyes to glare up at the tall man standing beside the bed. “What are you doing in here?” she snarled.

  “Waking you up,” he replied in the same tone of voice. “Get up. You’re going with me today.”

  “I am? When was this decided?”

  “Last night, while I watched you sulk over your dinner.”

  “I wasn’t sulking!”

  “Weren’t you? I’ve been watching you sulk on and off for quite a few years now, and I know all the signs. So haul your pretty self out of that bed and get your clothes on, honey, because I’m going to keep you so busy you won’t have time to pout.”

  Cathryn debated giving him a fight, but she quickly realized that she was in a difficult position and gave in with poor grace. “All right. Get out so I can get dressed.”

  “Why should I? I’ve seen you naked before.”

  “Not today you haven’t!” she shouted furiously. “Get out! Get...out!”

  He leaned down and flipped the cover back, then locked his fingers around her wrist and dragged her off the bed. Standing her before him as if she were a naughty child, he pulled her nightgown over her head with one swift movement and tossed it aside. His dark eyes flashed down her body, finding every detail and touching her with heat. “Now I have,” he snapped, and turned aside to pull open dresser drawers until he found her underwear. After throwing a pair of panties and a bra at her, he went to the closet and pulled out a shirt and a pair of soft, faded jeans. Thrusting those into her hands, too, he said, “Are you going to get dressed, or are we going to fight? I think I’d like the fight. I rememb