The Complete Mackenzie Collection Read online

  “Oh, that.” She dismissed it with a wave of her hand. “It would be wise to follow your advice if you were truly a criminal, but since you didn’t do it, I don’t think that applies in this instance. Besides, if you were a criminal, you wouldn’t give me that advice.”

  He couldn’t believe the casual way she disregarded any possibility of his guilt. “How do you know I didn’t do it?”

  “You just didn’t.”

  “Do you have any reason for your deduction, Sherlock, or are you going on good old feminine intuition?”

  She jerked around and glared at him. “I don’t believe a rapist would have handled a woman as tenderly as you—as you handled me,” she said, her voice tapering off into a whisper, and the color surged back into her face. Mortified by the stupid way she continued to blush, she slapped her palms to her face in an effort to hide the betraying color.

  Wolf clenched his teeth, partly because she was white and therefore not for him, partly because she was so damned innocent, and partly because he wanted so fiercely to touch her that his entire body ached. “Don’t build any dreams because I kissed you Saturday,” he said harshly. “I’ve been too long without a woman, and I’m—”

  “Horny?” she supplied.

  He was staggered by the incongruity of that word coming from her prim mouth. “What?”

  “Horny,” she said again. “I’ve heard some of my students say it. It means—”

  “I know what it means!”

  “Oh. Well, is that what you were? Still are, for all I know.”

  He wanted to laugh. The urge almost overpowered him, but he changed the sound into a cough. “Yeah, I still am.”

  She looked sympathetic. “I understand that can be quite a problem.”

  “It’s hard on a guy.”

  It took a moment, but then her eyes widened, and before she could stop herself, her gaze had slid down his body. Instantly she jerked her head back up. “Oh. I see. I mean—I understand.”

  The need to touch her was suddenly so strong that he had to give into it, had to touch her in even the smallest way. He put his hands on her shoulders, savoring her softness, the delicacy of her joints under his palms. “I don’t think you do understand. You can’t associate with me and still work in this town. At best, you’d be treated like a leper, or a slut. You would probably lose your job.”

  At that, she pressed her lips together, and a militant light came into her eyes. “I’d like to see someone try to fire me for associating with a law-abiding, tax-paying citizen. I refuse to pretend I don’t know you.”

  “There’s knowing, and there’s knowing. It would be bad enough for you to be friends with me. Sleeping with me would make your life here impossible.”

  He felt her stiffen under his hands. “I don’t believe I’ve asked to sleep with you,” she said, but the color rose in her face again. She hadn’t actually said the words, but he knew she certainly had thought about what it would be like.

  “You asked, all right, but you’re so damned innocent you didn’t realize what you were doing,” he muttered. “I could crawl on top of you right now, sweetheart, and I’d do it if you had any real idea of what you’re asking for. But the last thing I want is to have some prissy little Anglo screaming ‘rape’ at me. Believe me, an Indian doesn’t get the benefit of the doubt.”

  “I wouldn’t do anything like that!”

  He smiled grimly. “Yeah, I’ve heard that before. I’m probably the only man who has ever kissed you, and you think you’d like more, don’t you? But sex isn’t pretty and romantic, it’s hot and sweaty, and you probably wouldn’t like the first time at all. So do me a favor and find some other guinea pig. I have enough troubles without adding you to the list.”

  Mary jerked away from him, pressing her lips firmly together and blinking her eyes as fast as she could to keep the tears from falling. Not for anything would she let him make her cry.

  “I’m sorry I gave you that impression,” she said, her voice stifled but even. “It’s true I’ve never been kissed before, but I’m sure you aren’t surprised by that. I’m obviously not Miss America material. If my—my response was out of line, I apologize. It won’t happen again.” She turned briskly to the cabinet. “The coffee is ready. How do you take yours?”

  A muscle jerked in his jaw, and he grabbed his hat. “Forget the coffee,” he muttered as he jammed the hat on his head and reached for his gloves.

  She didn’t look at him. “Very well. Goodbye, Mr. Mackenzie.”

  Wolf slammed out the door, and Mary stood there with an empty coffee cup in her hand. If it really was goodbye, she didn’t know how she would be able to stand it.

  Chapter Four

  Mary wasn’t weak-willed, and she refused to give into the desolation that filled her every time she thought of that horrible day. During the days she prodded, cajoled and enticed her students toward knowledge; at night she watched Joe devour the facts she spread before him. His thirst for knowledge was insatiable, and he not only caught up with the students in her regular classes, he passed them.

  She had written her letters to the Wyoming members of Congress, and had also written to a friend for all the information she could find on the Air Force Academy. When the package came, she gave it to Joe and watched his eyes take on that fiercely intent, enthralled look he got whenever he thought of flying. Working with Joe was a joy; her only problem was that he reminded her so strongly of his father.

  It wasn’t that she missed Wolf; how could she miss someone she had seen only twice? He hadn’t imbedded himself in her daily routine so that her life seemed empty without him. But while she had been with him, she had felt more vividly alive than she ever had before. With Wolf, she hadn’t been Mary Potter, old maid, she had been Mary Potter, woman. His intense masculinity had reached parts of her that she hadn’t known existed, bringing to life dormant yearnings and emotions. She argued with herself that what she felt was plain old garden-variety lust, but that didn’t stop the ache she felt whenever she thought of him. Even worse was her humiliation because her inexperience had been so obvious, and now she knew he thought of her as a sex-starved old maid.

  It was April before the inevitable happened and word got out that Joe Mackenzie was spending a lot of time at the new teacher’s house. At first Mary wasn’t aware of the rumor flying through the town, though the kids in her classes had been watching her strangely, and there had been a lot of whispering. Sharon Wycliffe and Dottie Lancaster, the other two teachers, also took to giving her odd looks and whispering to each other. It didn’t take Mary long to decide that the secret was no longer secret, but she went about her business with a serene smile. She had already received a favorable letter from a senator, signaling his interest in Joe, and despite her own arguments for caution, her spirits were high.

  The school board’s regular meeting was scheduled for the third week in April. The afternoon of the meeting, Sharon, with elaborate casualness, asked Mary if she planned to attend. Mary looked at her in surprise. “Of course. I thought all of us were expected to attend on a regular basis.”

  “Well, yes. It’s just that—I thought—”

  “You thought I would avoid the meeting now that everyone knows I’ve been teaching Joe Mackenzie?” Mary asked directly.

  Sharon’s mouth fell open. “What?” Her voice was weak.

  “You didn’t know? Well, it isn’t an earth-shattering secret.” She shrugged. “Joe thought people would be upset if I tutored him, so I haven’t said anything. From the way everyone has been acting, I thought the cat was out of the bag.”

  “I think it was the wrong cat,” Sharon admitted sheepishly. “His truck was seen at your house at night and people—um—got the wrong idea.”

  Mary felt blank. “What wrong idea?”

  “Well, he’s big for his age and all.”

  Still Mary didn’t understand, until Sharon blushed hotly. Then comprehension burst on her brain like a flash, and horror filled her, followed swiftly by anger.