For the Love of Sin
For the Love of Sin
Leanne Banks
Troy Pendleton doesn't know how he got roped in to tracking Senada "Sin" Calhoun all the way to a two-bit Texas saloon. But he's got orders from his family not to come back to Tennessee without her, or the truth about why she left.The sultry bar manager tries to send Troy packing, but the desire in her eyes has him staying put. Sin's every bit as tempting as her name suggests–it's a good thing Troy's not stupid enough to fall in love…Sin's not interested in confiding in Troy about why she fled to her hometown. She learned a long time ago not to count on any man, and she's not going to start with the youngest and most overbearing of the Pendleton brothers. Yet denied other sensual pleasures, she's soon indulging in a passion-filled night with the too-rugged, too-masculine Troy. When morning comes, will she be able to trust him with her secrets–and her heart?
For the Love of Sin
Leanne Banks
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Troy Pendleton doesn’t know how he got roped into tracking Senada “Sin” Calhoun all the way to a two-bit Texas saloon. But he’s got orders from him his family not to come back to Tennessee without her, or the truth about why she left. The sultry bar manager tries to send Troy packing, but the desire in her eyes has him staying put. Sin’s every bit as tempting as her name suggests--it’s a good thing Troy’s not stupid enough to fall in love…
Sin’s not interested in confiding in Troy about why she fled to her hometown. She learned a long time ago not to count on any man, and she’s not going to start with the youngest and most overbearing of the Pendleton brothers. Yet denied other sensual pleasures, she’s soon indulging in a passion-filled night with the too-rugged, too-masculine Troy. When morning comes, will she be able to trust him with her secrets—and her heart?
Previously published.
To Eric, for motivation and inspiration
Special acknowledgments to
Donna Beard and Karen Britton for sharing
technical knowledge and personal experience
Prologue
“I wish someone would go after her,” Lisa Pendleton said, exasperation tugging at her features as she toyed with her food. “Someone who could reason with her.”
Troy Pendleton took another bite of chicken and watched his brother Brick nearly choke on his iced tea. This was the first family meal his sister, brothers and their assorted spouses and children had shared since Lisa gave birth to triplets.
“Reason?” Brick repeated to his wife. “When has anyone been able to reason with Senada Calhoun?”
Lisa scowled at him. “You just never understood her.”
“Me and the rest of the human—” Brick muttered, then broke off and sighed. He drummed his fingers on the table. “Maybe Jarod—”
Jarod Pendleton shook his head. “I used my vacation for my honeymoon.” He grinned and wrapped his arm around his new wife, Augusta.
Troy rolled his eyes at the lovesick couple and reached for another roll.
“One of Garth’s mares just foaled,” Jarod pointed out gently, eliminating another brother. “And Daniel’s busiest season is starting now.”
“That leaves…”
A long silence followed Lisa’s statement. Troy paused while buttering his roll and looked up to find everyone staring at him. Worst of all, Lisa was looking at him as if he were the last great hope. Realization dawned. He immediately shook his head. “No way.”
“I’m worried about her,” Lisa said in earnest. “One day she was my business partner and friend, the next, she sold her share of the partnership and left for some bar in Texas.”
“Maybe she needed a change.” Lord knew, Troy felt like he needed one. His restlessness was eating him from the inside out.
“Something is wrong. I can feel it. I’d go after her if I could, but with the babies…” She lifted her hands helplessly.
Troy was tempted to offer to keep the kids in lieu of going after Senada Calhoun. His only obstacle was that he couldn’t breastfeed. “You need someone who can reason with her. I sure as hell can’t.”
“I need someone who can find out what’s wrong with her first,” Lisa corrected.
Troy’s interest in the elaborate home-cooked meal waned. He dropped the uneaten roll to his plate. “Senada and I don’t get along.” What man could get along with a woman whose nickname was Sin, a woman who seemed to take the greatest pleasure in tormenting a man with her blow-off-the-roof sensuality? A woman who, he was convinced, was a few sandwiches short of a picnic.
Lisa placed her hand on his arm. “Show a little compassion, Troy. I know you’ve got some in there somewhere.”
Troy held his breath for a long moment. A glimmer of concern flickered to life inside him. Even for Senada, this behavior was unusual. What if there was something seriously wrong? What if she needed help? He snorted at the thought of Senada accepting help from him. Age-old self-protective instincts rushed to the surface, and he shook his head. “Give it up. There’s nothing you can say that will make me go tearing after Senada Calhoun. Nothing.”
When Lisa continued to look at him with that please-help-me expression on her face, Troy lifted his hands in exasperation. “I’d have to be certifiably crazy to go after her.”
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Chapter One
He was certifiable all right, Troy thought as he eyed the desert landscape with distaste. Someone should have tossed him into the loony bin and thrown away the key. Slamming his rental car door shut, he walked toward Padre’s Saloon.
In the back of his mind, he hoped this little mercy mission would earn him enough respect from his brothers to give him more control over the family farm. Thus far, they’d wanted his brawn, not his brains, and the growing need to leave his own mark was making him restless.
Even so, he still wasn’t quite sure how he’d allowed himself to get talked into this. All Troy knew was that he was there to get some answers, and he would do what it took to get them. He’d also been instructed to persuade Senada Calhoun to return to Chattanooga. That, he thought as he stepped into the busy watering hole, could get a little tricky.
Peanut shells littered the scarred wooden floor. Cowboy paraphernalia decorated the walls. His stomach growled at the scent of hamburgers and beer. Past the haze of cigarette smoke and what seemed like a herd of male bodies, he immediately spotted Senada.
Troy watched her give instructions to a waitress, then turn her attention to the customers, moving from one table to another. Her hair swung in a long black silky mantle past her shoulders, her eyes flashed with a hint of the fire in her personality, and her smile, well, her smile could tempt Saint Peter.
She probably thought the black jeans and frilly white shirt she wore covered enough to discourage male attention. Perhaps on another woman they would, but Senada’s black jeans cupped and molded her hips the way a man would want to cup and mold her with his hands. Her blouse had a ribbon that held the white material against her tanned skin.
Troy bet every man in the place was rubbing his fingers together with an itch to tug that ribbon loose. In his own gut, he felt a visceral tension grab and clench.
Shaking his head, he put the first sensation down to temporary insanity and the second…to indigestion. He moved toward her, and by the time he got within talking distance, her back was facing him. He hesitated a second, feeling as if he were preparing to walk straight into a fire.
He shook off the ridiculous thought. “Any chance a guy from Tennessee can get a beer around here?”
Senada whirled around, her dark brown eyes wide with surprise.
There was something different about her, he noticed instantly. Her usual flirty demeanor was missing, and she didn’t quite conceal a flash of vulnerability. Then he could almost swear he saw steam coming out of her ears.
Senada frowned. “Lisa sent you.”
Troy shrugged. No use denying it.
“She shouldn’t have.”
“She was worried.”
“There’s no need. I’m fine. I—”
He grinned. “What am I gonna have to do to get that beer?”
Senada stopped and took a deep breath. She wanted to club him. Lord help her, the last thing she needed was one of the Pendleton brothers planting his size-12 feet into her life. “This way,” she said tersely, and headed for the bar.
“Interesting place you’ve got here,” Troy said.
“I don’t own it. I manage it.” She motioned for the bartender. “Rico, please give this man a beer.”
“On the house?” Troy asked, needling her a little to gauge her reaction, as he leaned against the bar.
Senada paused in the act of pouring herself a glass of water and looked at him sideways. “Consider it one for the road.”
Troy laughed. Maybe this was the change he needed after all. He leaned closer, matching her haughty expression with a steady gaze. “Darlin’, my return flight’s not booked. I’m here for the duration.”
Impatience gnawed at Senada, and she seriously considered throwing the water in his handsome face. It took all her effort, but she stifled the urge. “Then make the duration short. There’s no need for you to stay on my account.”
“There is a need.” He took a long swallow of beer. “I need to know why you left Chattanooga, and—”
She pushed her hand through her hair. “I told you. I needed a change.”
Troy shook his head in disbelief. “Here? You would deliberately choose to leave a thriving upscale catering business for this?”
“My mother is from this area,” Senada said, and took another sip of her water.
“Are you living with her?”
Senada didn’t know why she felt compelled to answer his questions, except she knew that if she didn’t give him some excuse, he would never leave her alone. “No, I’m not living with her.”
“Is she sick?”
“No,” she said quickly, feeling the familiar pinch of loss. “She’s dead.”
Troy paused a half beat. “When?”
“Years ago.” She neither expected nor received sympathy from Troy. She knew the Pendletons had lost their mother and father, yet somehow they had come out stronger because of it. Until lately, she thought she’d become stronger because of her losses too. “Listen, I need to get back to work. There’s no need for you to be—”
He caught her arm. “I need, because I made a promise. I can’t leave here until I’m satisfied that you’re okay.”
The determined look in his violet eyes unnerved her. “It’s really none of your business.”
“It is now.”
Senada took a calming breath. No need to get upset, she told herself. She could handle Troy. She’d always sensed she made him a little uncomfortable, a little off balance. She preferred it that way. Instead of pulling away, she stepped closer and smiled. “Why Troy, I would have never dreamed you cared. You’re an intelligent man. Now take a good look,” she dared him. “Can you honestly say I look like I’m suffering?”
She withstood his narrowed gaze and felt a measure of surprise that he focused on her face instead of her breasts.
He lightly traced beneath her eyes with his callused thumb. “Dark circles?”
Another dart of surprise raced through her. He was more perceptive than she’d thought, and she would be looking for a new concealer tomorrow. “A good time and late night will catch up with the best of us,” she lied with a shrug, and slipped away. “You should know that. Now you’ve done your brotherly duty. Give Lisa my best and tell her I’m fine.”
Senada turned her back to him and wished with all her heart that she wasn’t lying. Because she wasn’t fine.
Troy watched her deliberately avoid him for the rest of the evening.
“Muy attractiva, sí?” a man next to him said.
Unfortunately, the only Spanish Troy knew was what he’d learned from Speedy Gonzales cartoons and Terminator movies. “Pardon?”
The man snickered. “One hot woman, that Senada. Yes?”
“Yeah,” he said, sizing up the man. “You know her well?”
“Not well enough.” He gave Troy a meaningful glance. “She is a beautiful tease. All the men try, but she goes home alone. My name is Juan Marcheta. You are new?”
“Visiting from Tennessee. I’m Troy Pendleton.”
“You do not sound like the Texans.”
Troy chuckled. He supposed he sounded pretty foreign to this guy. “I guess not. You know anywhere I can get a room for the night?”
Juan recommended a few places, then left Troy to ponder the puzzle of Senada. Although he would be the first to admit he had the sensitivity of a block of wood, he suspected something strange was going on. Aside from Senada’s abrupt departure from Chattanooga, she usually had a half-dozen men dangling on her line. The fact that she wasn’t seeing anyone gave him pause.
Women.
Troy shook his head. With the exception of Ethan and Nathan, his brothers had all lost their minds. They’d turned his existence upside down. They’d gotten married.
And now, because his sister-in-law was worried, he was in a two-bit Texas border town, and he was not only supposed to get some answers from a woman, he was supposed to reason with one—a crazy one at that.
He swore under his breath. This family duty stuff was for the birds, but Troy was a man of his word. Sliding back into the hard wooden chair, he ordered a burger and nursed another beer and watched Senada.
It was 2:00 a.m. when Senada pushed the key into the doorknob of her small but well-maintained rental home. Feeling a prickling sensation on the back of her neck, she stopped and turned around. Probably Juan, she thought, staring into the darkness. He’d followed her home another time.
“The answer is no,” she said, wishing her porch light hadn’t burned out.
Her heart sprinted when she saw the silhouette of a big male form. Juan wasn’t that tall.
The moonlight hit Troy’s face as he stepped forward. “I didn’t ask.” His mouth tilted. “Yet.”
Relief sputtered through her, followed quickly by irritation. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged and opened the door for her. “Just wanted to see where you live.”
Senada kept her back to the doorway. “It would have been polite to warn me.”
“It would have been polite for you to invite me,” he corrected in a low voice, and met her gaze.
“It’s late.”
Troy nodded but didn’t graciously back off. His blue eyes didn’t waver, his jaw was set in a firm line.
She sighed and led the way into her living room. “Three minutes,” she told him, and flicked on a lamp.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and prowled around the small room. “Looks like rental furniture.”
She’d always known Troy was big, but having him in her home made her more aware of the fact. Two minutes and thirty seconds, she noted. “Mine’s in storage. This was quicker, easier.”
“Why were you in such a hurry?” he asked, turning back to her.
Tossing her purse on the sofa, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I needed a change. Haven’t you ever felt like you needed to make a change and it had to be now?”
“Yeah, but moving halfway across the country requires a little planning,” Troy drawled, stepping closer.
“For you,” she conceded, and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. “I’ve been told I’m impulsive.”
“Maybe.” He gave her a long considering look, his gaze brushing over her body and returning to her face. “But there’s more to the story, isn’t there, Sin?” he said in a low voice.
It was an intimate, you-can-trust-me voice, and she felt the lick of temptation. She’d always thought Troy, with his six-foot-plus height, unapologetic chauvinism and blatant masculinity, was a little over the top.
Too much had been her assessment. Too big. Too rugged. Too intractable. Senada had always been the one to hold the aces when it came to male/female relationships. She suspected Troy preferred calling the shots. They wouldn’t mix well. Still, he was a strong man, more than physically strong, and that strength appealed to her now when she was vulnerable. Maybe he could handle the truth.
He cocked his head to one side and lifted his hand to cup her cheek. “Something is going on,” he mused. “Tell me and I’ll help.”
Her heart tugged. His hand was gentle, his gaze warm. She’d locked herself away from human kindness over the last few weeks and suddenly felt the loss. It would only take one step, and she would be in his arms.
In that second, she thought of her big, strong father and how he’d been unable to handle the truth. She took a giant step back, physically and emotionally. “It’s been three minutes.”
“I’m gonna find out,” he told her.
Sin shook her head and headed for the door. “You’re wasting your time.”
“I already know you’re not seeing any men, and Lord knows that’s out of character.”
She whipped around. “How do you know that?”
“Juan, but I would have found out anyway.” He twisted his lips in a cynical grin. “I’m the youngest of seven brothers, Sin. When you’re the youngest, you learn by watching, so I’m damn good at watching. And just so you’ll know, another characteristic about the youngest is that people underestimate you.” His gaze fell over her like a hot brand, then he looked into her eyes.
“Hasta la vista, baby.”
Troy didn’t like the accommodations.
His hotel room was the size of a closet, and if he turned over in his bed, he would land on the floor. No AC, no fan. To make matters worse, the walls were thin, and it sounded as if the guy next door had gotten very lucky tonight.
To distract himself from the explicit cries of his neighbors, he thought about Senada.
More convinced than ever that something strange was going on, he considered the possibilities. She could be sick, but it didn’t make sense that she would abandon her home and friends for that reason.
She could also be pregnant.
If the guy had dumped her, maybe she felt humiliated and didn’t want to face her friends. He frowned. The only catch was that he’d never heard of anyone dumping Senada. She went through men like tissues and always appeared to be the one to move on.
He remembered how soft her cheek had felt in his palm, and the appealing mix of fire and vulnerability in her eyes. For a minute there, she’d looked as if she wanted to trust him, as if she would share her secrets with him.
He swore, kicking off the sheet. This was going to take patience, and he’d never been patient. He deliberately closed his eyes, and the image of her stole past the barrier in his mind.
Her mouth was red and taunting, her eyes dark and sensual. His body heated. He swore again. His dear beloved brothers had sent him straight to hell.
Over the following nights, Senada tried to ignore Troy. It should have been easy. Most of her customers were male. Many watched her, but none with Troy’s unwavering intensity. He wasn’t the least bit sly about it, just propped himself on a stool at the bar, nodded his head in greeting, and watched.
She really didn’t need this, she thought, five days after he arrived. She’d fled to San Pedro with the intention of going to her father, but once she’d arrived, she chickened out.
If her father had been unable to handle her mother’s illness thirteen years earlier, how could he deal with Senada’s current crisis?
So, here she was, still shocked and afraid, and trying to adjust to a new and totally necessary lifestyle. She shook her head and checked the time. These days she was more conscious of the clock.
Juan sidled up to her. “This man from Tennessee. Troy. He comes every night. Is he bothering you?”
She flicked a glance at Troy and saw that he must have overheard. “Bothering me?” she repeated. Yes.
Another regular customer came up behind Juan. “Yeah, like stalking.”
Senada wrinkled her eyebrows. “I don’t know if I’d really call it stalking. It’s more—”
Juan waved his friend up to the bar. “If he’s bothering you, you should let us know and we’ll take care of him.”
Senada rolled her eyes. She could practically smell the machismo. “He’s not doing—”
“We can make him go away.”
She felt a stab of alarm. If this got out of hand, it could get messy, and Senada didn’t consider breaking up fights one of the perks of her new job. “You don’t need to do anything. He’ll be going away very soon,” she said, throwing a meaningful glance in Troy’s direction.
Troy shook his head. “I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.”
Juan stiffened and pointed his finger at Troy. “What makes you think you have rights over Senada?”
Pausing, Troy gave a warning glance at Juan’s accusing finger. He took an unrushed swallow of beer and leaned back in his seat, clearly sure of his power. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve got rights with Senada.”
Then he looked at Senada, and she felt the impact of his take-no-prisoners gaze to her toes. “She left me at the altar.”
Chapter Two
After being ignored for days, Troy felt a measure of satisfaction at seeing Senada stare at him in shock. “I may not be the only one she’s left at the altar,” he continued, elaborating on his fabrication, “but I think I deserve some answers. Wouldn’t you?” He shot Juan a challenging glance. “She told me that all those stories about her ex-husband having to be—”
“Ex-husband!” Senada repeated, apparently finding her voice.
“—rushed to the hospital on their wedding night were just rumors.”
“The hospital,” she sputtered. “You’re lying.” She looked at Troy as if he’d lost his mind.
“You’re crazy. You’re—”
Troy nodded. “That’s right. Crazy for you. You stood with me at the altar, then left me. I deserve a chance to win her back.” He nodded at the men. “Agreed?”
Juan looked uncertainly from Senada to Troy.
A waitress gave Senada a searching glance. “Why’d you dump him?”
“I didn’t! He’s lying. I never promised him anything. He’s crazy. He just wants…” She took a breath, running out of words.
“He just wants what, señorita? Or is it, señora?” Juan added meaningfully.
“Can you honestly say you didn’t stand beside me at the altar?” Troy demanded, recalling Lisa and Brick’s wedding, where Senada had been a bridesmaid.
She paused, her eyes narrowing. “No, but that wasn’t our—”
“There you have it, boys. From her very own mouth.”
Juan motioned his friends backward. “A man deserves to claim his woman.”
Senada slammed the pitcher of beer down on the counter. “His woman, my fanny.”
“Appreciate your understanding,” Troy interjected with a nod.
She glared at him with enough heat to melt iron, then seared him with a rush of Spanish words for which he could only guess the meaning.
She narrowed her eyes. “You know, up until this moment, you just annoyed me,” she told him as she rounded the counter. “I had decided you were pushy because you were misguided. And if you were a little thick upstairs, it was probably just genetic, since the rest of your brothers seemed to be the same way. When people annoy me, I ignore them.”
She leaned closer to him, and Troy was amazed at the quick leap of response in his body. “Now, I really don’t like you,” she whispered in a voice that shouldn’t have been but was outrageously seductive. Her eyes were nearly black with emotion, and Troy felt himself sinking.
He closed his own eyes, blinking at the odd sensations inside him. Before he knew it, cold beer gushed down his head. Senada put the empty pitcher on the counter. He swore. His hair was drenched, his shirt wet. “What in hell—” He swore again, jerking away and shaking his head.
Senada smiled. “That’s what I do to people I don’t like. Don’t mess with me, Pendleton. You are out of your league.”
After his shower, Troy received a call from his brother Brick. “Nothing yet,” he said, toweling dry his hair. “I knew she was moody, but you could have warned me about her temper.”
“Lisa says she doesn’t like being told what to do. And she gets really upset if she thinks someone is trying to put one over on her,” Brick said.
Troy glanced at his beer-drenched shirt wadded up in the corner of his room and nodded.
“Yeah, I figured that out.”
“Well, if you screwed up, Lisa says Senada loves chocolate.” Brick lowered his voice.
“Personally, I’d recommend ducking. What do you think is wrong with her, anyway?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out. Even if it kills me,” he muttered, then asked about the farm. After a couple of minutes, he finished his conversation and gazed around his new living quarters. A vast improvement over the hotel, the two-room garage apartment was still too small and hot, but it was clean. After sizing Troy up, his elderly landlord had given him a list of rules a mile long and required two months’ rent in advance. But as they say in real estate, location is everything. His present location was perfect for his purpose.
Before, his determination to solve the mystery of Sin had been a matter of his promise to his brother and sister-in-law. Now, male pride and a near self-destructive determination drove him. He pushed the curtains aside and looked out his window. Two doors down and across the street stood Senada’s house. He could just imagine her delight when she learned who her new neighbor was.
The finger prick still hurt, Senada thought as she tested her blood. She just wasn’t very good at sticking herself. She jotted down the date, time and results in the little notebook, then eyed the syringe warily.
“The needle is my friend,” she told herself.
“Liar,” she whispered back, and started to perspire. Her anxiety was strictly related to that damn needle, not her lack of insulin. She took a breath and grabbed a premoistened alcohol pad.
“Right thigh, today,” she said, wishing her voice had a more soothing effect on her nerves. She brushed the pad over her thigh, then poised the syringe over the same area.
“The needle is my friend.” Her overriding instinct was to close her eyes, but she’d learned it hurt worse when she missed her targeted area. “This is not my leg.” Denial worked for the millisecond she needed, and Senada plunged the syringe into her thigh.
She swore at the sharp sting. “That was most definitely my leg.” Her hands trembling, she tossed the used syringe away and stood. It should be easier now, she thought, glancing at her watch. But it wasn’t. She kept waiting for the day when she didn’t mind living by the clock, making sure she ate every four hours, testing her blood and giving her own injections of insulin. But Senada had always lived by her own clock and her own rules, so she was furious that her body had betrayed her.
There should be a rule somewhere that people who were afraid of needles didn’t develop insulin-dependent diabetes. There should be another rule that chocoholics didn’t develop diabetes. There should be, but there wasn’t.
As much as she would like to ignore the intrusion of her recent diagnosis, Senada couldn’t. She knew her mother had died of complications from diabetes. Either from ignorance or neglect, her mother hadn’t been conscientious about her health. Senada had inherited her mother’s height, her expressive brown eyes and thick, black hair. Unfortunately, she’d also inherited the diabetes.
The doctors assured her, however, that she could live a long, healthy life if she took care of herself. She’d been careless about that area in the past. Her idea of taking care of herself had been luxuriating in a bubble bath and sleeping until noon on her day off every now and then.
A healthy diet was a necessity now. A regular schedule was a given. She stretched her shoulders against the sudden sensation of being tied down. The needles and the lack of chocolate were tough to endure, but the most difficult for her so far was the loss of freedom.
She sighed and made a face at the mirror. After extensive negotiations with her dietician, they had found a way for her to have a chocolate dessert once a week. And tonight was the night for her devil’s food cupcake filled with chocolate cream.
Senada brushed her hair from her face and smiled wryly. Meat, vegetables and a small portion of grains first, but then the cupcake. “Better than sex,” she murmured in sweet anticipation.
Forty-five minutes later, she’d lit a candle, put soft music on to play in the background and had eaten her vegetables. She removed her empty plate from the table.
The moment had arrived. Her heart beat faster. Her mouth began to water. Taking a deep breath, she stripped off the cellophane wrapper. It had been over a month.
The doorbell rang.
Senada sighed, giving a backward glance toward the door. She contemplated quickly biting the top off of the cupcake, but was determined not to rush this rare, small pleasure. She left the table and pulled open the door to Troy Pendleton.
She tried to close it, but his big foot prevented her.
“C’mon, Sin, give me a break. I’m here to apologize.”
That gave her pause.
“Sort of,” he added.
She gave the door another push.
“I brought chocolates.”
She opened the door and stared. “Chocolates?”
He gave a slow grin as if he’d just shot two through a basketball hoop. It was a grin designed to get past a woman’s defenses. Other women, she thought, would find that grin appealing. “You mentioned an apology?” she prompted, noting the box of candy.
“Are you going to invite me in?” He looked past her.
No. “I’m a little busy right now. I—” She broke off when she spotted her neighbor, Mrs. Rodriguez, running toward them at a breakneck pace. Senada had met a few of her neighbors, but Mrs. Rodriguez had been the most welcoming. The effusive, nurturing woman had even brought her homemade bread.
“My husband! My husband! He is dead!” Then she tore into a flurry of Spanish.
Senada shared a look of alarm with Troy, and all three rushed to the Rodriguez’s house. At first glance, Mr. Rodriguez did look dead, sitting limply in his chair with his head propped back and his mouth open. But Troy quickly determined the man was breathing. In the back of her mind, she noticed and appreciated Troy’s quick, calm manner. While Senada comforted her neighbor and called for an ambulance, Troy located a bottle behind the chair.
Apparently, the man had mixed alcohol with his medication. He would need medical attention but would be okay. By the time the ambulance arrived, Mr. Rodriguez was awake but groggy. Senada and Troy left while Mrs. Rodriguez read her husband the riot act in Spanish.
“I appreciate your help,” she told him as he followed her inside her house. Her antipathy toward Troy had faded. How could she hate him when he’d allowed Mrs. Rodriguez to blubber all over him?
“For a minute there, I didn’t know who was going to need medical treatment more, Mrs. Rodriguez or her husband.”
Senada grinned. “She’s very emotional.” She glanced at the table. The candle was gutted and the music had stopped. The lone cupcake, however, remained.
She shook her head. “Well, this has been an exciting evening.”
Troy nodded. “Yeah, I’m starvin’.” He picked up her cupcake. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Senada watched in horror as he took a bite. “Wait!”
He paused, glancing at her, then the cupcake. “It’s okay,” he assured her. “A little stale, but nothing’s wrong with it.”
Senada bit back a whimper. She’d only bought one cupcake because she couldn’t stand the temptation of having several around the house.
Troy swallowed another bite. “I apologize about the conversation with Juan, but I had to get him off my back.” He didn’t like explaining himself but had concluded it was necessary if he didn’t want any more beer dumped on his head. “And this way, I figured I could get him to leave you alone too. Sort of kill two birds with one stone.” He took another bite and polished off the cupcake.
He glanced at Senada. She was wearing a strange expression. If he didn’t know better, he would swear she was going to cry. “Something wrong?”
She stared at the empty paper cupcake liner.
“Sin?”
Her gaze met his. “I want my cupcake back.”
Troy blinked. “Your cupcake?”
She nodded. “I want it back. I’ve waited over four weeks to eat that cupcake, and I want it back.”
“Four weeks,” he echoed. “It wasn’t that stale.”
“I want my cupcake.”
Troy shot her a wary glance. The woman was loony. She must be on some strange kind of diet that was affecting her brain, he thought, then assessed her curves with masculine appreciation. “You don’t need to be on a diet. Why don’t you eat some of the chocolate candy I brought you?”
She hesitated, then sighed. “Let me see them.”
Troy lifted the lid off the box and presented them to her.
Senada closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. She looked as if she were having an erotic experience. “They smell wonderful,” she whispered.
The sensual expression on her face tugged at something inside him. Her whisper heated his skin. He pulled at his collar.
She carefully selected three pieces of candy and set them on a napkin in front of her. He expected her to put one whole piece in her mouth at a time. Instead, she took a small bite of the first chocolate and rolled it around in her mouth. He could practically imagine her tongue working over the morsel.
He watched her throat ripple when she swallowed.
“I know this makes no sense to you, but it’s been over a month since I’ve had chocolate, so I’m not reasonable about it.”
He watched her lick a chocolate buttercream center, and his gut tightened. He cleared his throat. “Lisa mentioned you have a, uh, weakness for chocolate.”
“She wasn’t lying.” Sin took another tiny bite and closed her eyes. “I can give up a lot of things, but this one’s tough.”
“Then why deprive yourself?” He was feeling a little deprived just watching her.
She shrugged. “Necessity.” She picked up the second piece. “And this has got to last a week.”
Troy watched, mesmerized, as she sucked the cherry from the center. His body grew warm at the sight of her pink tongue skimming over her lips. If her mouth did that to a little piece of chocolate, then what would she do to a man? He stifled a groan at the intimate image.
“You mind if I get some water?” he asked. When she absently shook her head, he headed for the refrigerator. Her attention was fixed on the chocolate with such intensity that he wondered if the rumors about her past lovers being carted off to the hospital were true. Troy pressed the cold glass to his forehead, then took a quick gulp.
Senada glanced up at him. “Could I have just a sip of that?”
“Sure.” He set the glass in front of her and watched her drink. He swallowed when she swallowed.
She gave him a wry smile. “Last one.”
Troy nodded. “You want me to light the candle for you?”
She sighed. “No.”
Her eyelids fluttered downward, and an insane idea struck him. He went with it even though he questioned the wisdom of it. “Well, you should do something special since it’s your last one for a week.”
She glanced up. “Think so?”
“Yeah.” He picked up the last chocolate. “You should let me feed it to you.”
Senada shook her head and shot him a skeptical glance. “Oh no.”
“Yeah, you should. It’ll be memorable.”
“No.” She reached for the chocolate, but he moved his hand.
“Yeah.”
“No,” she said more forcefully, reaching again.
Troy zigged. She zagged. And the truffle was smushed.
She looked at him in disgust. “You smashed my truffle.”
“Sorry about that.”
“You ate my cupcake.”
He nodded. “You want another one?”
“No, I want that one. That truffle.”
He lifted his fingers to her mouth. “Then take it.”
“I should get a knife,” she said, frowning at him.
“I don’t think I trust you with a knife,” he said, wary of the gleam in her gaze.
Senada rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’m not wasting that truffle.” She pulled his hand closer and looked at him again. “I hope you’re enjoying this.” Then she took her first lick.
Troy felt the sensation of her kitten-soft tongue in every erogenous zone of his body. It was a bizarre form of torture, watching Senada Calhoun lick chocolate from his fingers.
He never would have suspected his fingers were sensitive. He never would have suspected he could become completely and totally aroused by such a simple action of a woman’s mouth on his finger. Especially when that woman didn’t even like him. But her spicy scent combined with the bittersweet smell of chocolate and liquor made him take short, shallow breaths because he feared intoxication.
Her single-minded attention and overtly expressed pleasure made him sweat. Her exotic eyes were hooded as if she were overcome with desire. Her full lips pouted as if she’d been kissed and wanted more. When her tongue skimmed the inside of his middle finger, it was all he could do not to groan.
Still holding his hand, she gave him a considering glance. “You know, if I bit, it would really hurt.”
He met her gaze and tried to hide his arousal. “Maybe,” he conceded, not bothering to keep the dare from his voice.
She gave a double take and looked at him again. This time, Troy knew she was considering him sexually. Her dark eyelashes swept down, shielding her eyes the same way a filmy nightgown shielded a woman’s body. A gentle tease. He wondered if she knew how that affected a man. How it affected him.
She gently put his hand away from her. “That was a delicious truffle, even though you smashed it. Maybe even better than the cupcake,” she said with a slight, smoky smile. “And it was certainly memorable. Thank you for the chocolates.”
Standing, she gave a little shrug. “Guess you’d better head back to your hotel. You’ll want an early check-out so you can get back to Tennessee.”
Troy shook his head. He was going to kill his brothers for this detail. K-i-l-l them. He willed his body to forget what it was hoping for, then he stood. “As a matter of fact, I’ve already checked out of the hotel.”
Senada’s face lit up with delight. “Well, be sure to tell Lisa I said hello. I’ll give her a call sometime. I promise. I just have to settle some things here first and—”
“What kind of things?” he interjected, allowing her to lead him to the door.
She gave a vague gesture with her hand. “Oh, things.” She opened the door.
Troy slipped his arm around her waist and pointed to his new domicile. “You see that house down there.”
She glanced at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Yes.”
“You see the garage apartment?”
Her eyes glinted with suspicion. “Yes.”
“If you need anything, day or night,” he told her, “I’ll be there.” He thought about kissing her, but based on her hostile expression, he thought she really might bite him this time. “Anytime, Sin. Night or day.”
Chapter Three
Senada’s dietician got a kick out of the chocolate cupcake story. In retrospect, Senada even found it amusing.
“This is the first time I’ve seen you laugh since you’ve been here,” Helen Waverly said.
“Maybe Troy Pendleton isn’t all bad.”
“Maybe not,” she murmured. “But he’s bad enough.” Her feelings about Troy were constantly changing. When he informed her that he lived two doors down from her, she could have cheerfully dumped another pitcher of beer on him. When he helped her with her neighbor, she’d almost liked him. And when he fed her the chocolate truffle, she’d felt a surprising shot of sexual attraction. Very surprising. Since her diagnosis she’d felt frozen, at least as far as her femininity was concerned.
Now she didn’t. Senada wasn’t sure she liked the source of the change.
“Have you called your father yet?” Helen asked.
“Not yet. I’m still trying to decide how to do it.”
Helen arched her eyebrow at the excuse but let it pass. “And have you thought about attending a meeting of the local support group?”
Senada shifted. “I’m thinking about that too.”
“You can’t stay in a holding pattern forever,” she said gently.
Senada nodded. “I know.” She deliberately changed the subject. “But about those chocolates?”
Helen rolled her eyes. “Put them in the freezer. They’ll last longer that way. One a day,” she said, lifting her index finger for emphasis, “with a meal.”
Senada smiled. “You don’t know how happy you’ve made me.”
They had a full house on Friday evening, and Senada was busier than ever. Several customers casually asked her about Troy. She acted as if she didn’t know what they were talking about, but the back of her neck prickled with irritation. In the short time that he’d been there, he’d made a place for himself. The men greeted him; the waitresses flirted with him. At this very moment, he was in the back because the cook had asked him to take a look at the ice maker.
“Here you go,” she said, placing two pitchers of beer and four frosty mugs on a table. She shot a quick glance at the men dressed in denims and sporting cowboy hats. “Welcome to Padre’s. Are you new to town? I haven’t seen you before.”
One man gave her a long considering look. “We’re from the Circle K. I’m Chris Grant, the foreman.”
Circle K. Her father’s ranch. The room began to swim. Senada blinked, then took a careful breath and smiled. “Bet that job keeps you busy. I hear it’s a pretty big operation.”
He shrugged. “Busy enough, but Calhoun lets me off to come into town every now and then. Maybe I could show you the spread sometime. What’s your name?”
Senada paused. She considered conjuring up an alias and immediately felt impatient with her cowardice. So what if her father learned she was there. Maybe it was time. “Senada,” she said, and gave the group of men a half grin as she left. “If you need anything, yell.”
Her mind spinning, she slapped the door to the back room so hard, it hit the wall as she rushed through it.
Straight into Troy.
“Whoa!” He grabbed her shoulders.
“Sorry,” she muttered, still shaken.
He frowned, studying her. “What’s wrong? You look like somebody hit you.”
“Nobody hit me,” she told him. “Not really.”
He cocked his head to one side. “Hit on you?”
The tray she held separated her chest from his, but his hands felt warm and reassuring. His gaze was strong but gentle, and the combination sent a tumbling sensation in her stomach. For a moment, she considered dropping the tray and putting her arms around him.
She shook her head and immediately backed away. Where did that thought come from? She rolled her eyes. “They all order beer, and they all hit on me. It’s part of the program.” She looked past him. “What have you done to my ice maker?”
“Fixed it.” He pushed her hair behind one shoulder. “How are you gonna compensate me?”
He touched her as if it were no big deal, and it shouldn’t have been, but Senada felt her heart race. She swallowed an oath. Maybe she needed to check her blood sugar. “Your beer’s on the house. I’ll even throw in a burger if you want.”
“You’re all heart,” he said wryly.
“That’s me, sweet as—”
“—Tabasco sauce.”
She flicked her gaze back up to him. “Go home.”
He gave a slow, terrible, wicked grin and leaned close to her. “Not until I get what I came for.”
“Troy,” she said, throwing his innuendo right back, “you wouldn’t know what to do with it once you got it.”
Troy’s eyes lit with challenge, and he leaned dangerously close.
“You little thief!” The cook’s voice rang out. “What are you doing with those hamburgers? Six of them. I oughta—”
Senada broke away and rounded the corner to find a little boy, terrified and defiant, holding burgers in his hands. “It was only five! Pig!” he yelled back at the cook. “You’re a stupid pig!”
Pete’s face turned purple. “Why, you little—”
Senada’s heart twisted. “Hold on, Pete,” she said to the cook, then quickly assessed the boy. His clothes were worn, his cheek was smeared with dirt and he wasn’t wearing any shoes. “Are you hungry?”
The boy jutted out his chin. “So what if I am?”
She walked closer. “For starters, you could ask before taking the burgers. How old are you, anyway?”
“Twelve.”
“More like nine,” Troy muttered from behind her. “You gonna eat all those yourself?”
The kid looked at Troy warily, clearly intimidated by his size. “Maybe. What’s it to you?”
Troy shrugged and leaned against the counter. “Nothing. Go ahead. I’d just hate to see you get sick.”
“Sick?”
“Five burgers is a lot to eat.”
“It was six,” Pete insisted. “Six of my burgers.”
“I’ll cover it,” Senada said, finding the situation disturbing. “You can cook some more.” Pete grumbled as he made his way to the refrigerator.
“I wasn’t gonna eat them all,” the boy said.
Troy nodded. “You got a name?”
“Rocky.”
“You got a family?”
Rocky’s brown eyes glittered with defiance again. “Yeah. So what?”
“Where do you live?”
The boy made a quick dash for the door, but Troy was quicker. He caught the boy by the arm.
“Lemme go!”
“Where do you live?”
Rocky glared at Troy. “We ain’t got no house. It’s my mom, my sister and me. My dad’s in jail. My mom cleans rooms at the hotel, and we ain’t got no house.”
It hit Senada hard. She couldn’t exactly say why. Maybe she was still reeling from meeting someone from her father’s ranch. Maybe Helen’s words about how she should get involved with other people had finally taken hold. Either way, Senada felt as if someone had hit her in the stomach. Wake up. Things could be worse. There are other people in this world in far worse circumstances than yours.
Her eyes met Troy’s, and the steadiness of his gaze calmed her. She cleared her throat. “You didn’t say where you live,” she finally said very quietly.
Rocky lifted his thin shoulders. “For the last two weeks we’ve slept in a warehouse.”
Troy took a deep breath. He knew what he was going to have to do. “How would you like a real roof over your head for a change?”
“I don’t want social services.”
Troy gave a wry laugh. “Do I look like social services? I have access to a two-bedroom garage apartment. You think your mom would like that?”
“Maybe.”
“Yeah, well, how about I walk with you to your mom’s, and we can ask her.”
“Can I keep the burgers?”
Senada blinked, spurred into action. “Yes. Just a minute, and I’ll give you some soda.” She filled some cups, gave them to Troy. “And here are some nachos. If you want more,” she told Rocky, “let me know, and I’ll get them for you. Okay?”
“Okay,” the boy said in a surprised voice. “Thanks.”
Senada looked at Troy curiously. “This sounds like your apartment. You’re ready to go back to Tennessee?”
Troy wasn’t certain he heard hope or disappointment in her voice. “No chance, Sin. I’m headed back to that crappy hotel.” No AC. No fan. Stifling a groan, he paused. “Unless you’d like to show a little compassion and hospitality and let me stay with—”
“Sorry, no,” she managed quicker than lightning, but Troy would have sworn she found it tough to refuse him.
He chuckled. The woman was begging him to leave at every turn. Her eyes, however, seemed to be begging for something else. He was obviously suffering from delusions. “Had to try. I’ll see ya later, Sin. Lisa sent some baby pictures and told me to show them to you.”
All wide eyes and tousled hair, she clasped her hands tightly together. “Okay.”
Troy narrowed his eyes. She’d looked upset earlier, and she didn’t look any happier now.
Knowing she couldn’t care less about his sleeping arrangements, he deliberately misunderstood her concern. “Hey,” he said, chucking her gently under the chin, “don’t worry about me. It’s a terrible motel and there’s no air conditioner and I’m lonely, but I’ll be okay.”
She rolled her eyes and swatted at his hand. “You know, it’s almost what you deserve. Are you sure you don’t have a split personality? It amazes me how a complete jerk could do something so, so—” she glanced at Rocky, then back at Troy “—nice.”
Troy grinned. “Just a backwater country boy keeping you on your toes.”
After Troy got the Horge family settled in to his apartment and tossed most of his belongings in the backseat of his car, he noticed Senada’s light was still on. Reluctant to face the hot little motel room that was waiting for him, he rang her doorbell.
He heard footsteps, followed by a long pause. She was probably trying to decide whether to open the door or not. He mugged for the peephole.
The door whisked open, and Senada stood there in a long silky-looking white robe holding a bowl of cereal. At that moment, he coveted both the body beneath the robe…and the cereal. His stomach growled.
“Hello to you too,” she said.
“Noticed your light was still on,” he said, edging forward.
She looked at him and sighed. “Rocky’s family all moved in to your apartment?”
“Yeah, and I didn’t ever get those burgers you promised. It’s hell being a hero.”
Senada sighed again and held the door open with her shoulder. “Okay, come on in. Rice cereal or frosted corn flakes?”
“Both,” he said, walking through the doorway toward the dining room. “Just give me the box. I’ll eat the cardboard.”
She chuckled and poured a big bowl combining both cereals, then added milk. “Here. What’s Rocky’s mother’s name? I thought I’d take a bag of groceries over tomorrow.”
“Maria, and she’d really appreciate it. They’ve got a few things to tide them over. Stuff I bought a few days ago.” Glancing at Senada, he recalled his conversation earlier that day with Lisa and fished the photos out of his shirt pocket. “Take a look at the triplets. I swear, those babies change every day.”
Senada reached for the pictures and smiled. “They’re adorable. Oh, and Lisa cut her hair.” She squinted her eyes. “Is Brick losing his?”
Troy laughed. “No, that’s just a shadow, but I’ll pass on your observation to him. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”
She met his gaze and arched her eyebrow. “He never liked me.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
She shot him a look of disbelief.
“More terror that you were going to find someone for Lisa before he could get his stuff together.”
“He almost lost her.”
“Yeah, but look at ’em now.”
Senada sat in the chair next to him and shook her head. “It’s hard for me to imagine having a family like yours. I don’t think I could handle it. Do you ever feel stifled?”
Troy thought about that as he crunched his cereal. “Every once in a while, but we’ve had to hang together during some tough times.” He glanced at her and wondered about the pensive expression on her face. “What about your family?”
“We’re a lot more independent. My mother died when I was pretty young, and my father and I aren’t close.”
“So what do you do at Christmas?”
She tossed him a chiding look. “I’m not alone unless I want to be.”
He’d bet she wasn’t. Troy allowed his gaze to fall over her again. Her breasts made his hands itch to touch them, her waist was small, her hips slim but well curved. And her legs, well, he thought, looking at the bare tanned limbs, her legs were designed to shred a man’s restraint. But it wasn’t so much the physical package that set Sin apart from other women. It was her attitude. She was the most natural, unselfconsciously sexy woman he’d ever met.
Taking another bite, he shook off his useless thoughts. “I can’t even begin to comprehend a holiday without too much food, too many kids and an argument over who gets the last piece of pie.”
She grinned at him. “And since you were the youngest brother, I bet you didn’t get that last piece of pie very often.”
“Until lately,” he conceded, then switched the subject back to a troubling thought. “I know you’re as independent as they come, but don’t you ever wish you had someone to unload on?”
A lost expression flickered across her face, quickly replaced by a trace of irritation. She stood and took both their bowls to the sink. “It’s all about what you learn. You learned to depend. I learned not to.”
He followed her to the kitchen. “Sounds like a complete lack of supervision. I can just imagine what kind of trouble you got into when you were a teenager. Now, if you’d been a Pendleton, we would have locked you in your—”
She turned around and tilted her head, her brown eyes meeting his. “But I’m not a Pendleton. What are you after, Troy?”
“Answers.” Damp from her shower, her hair left a dark spot on the shoulder of her robe. He’d waited just about as long as he’d wanted to to touch her, so he lifted a strand of her hair. Slippery as satin, like her robe.
Her gaze assessed him. “And that’s all, right?”
He didn’t let go of her hair, and he didn’t back off from her gaze. “I’ve been told I have the sensitivity of a block of wood.”
Senada bit her lip to stifle a chuckle. “I can see that.”
“I’ve been told that I don’t know when to stop.” He slipped his broad fingers through her hair to the back of her head.
Senada let him. Later, she would have to figure out why. “I can agree with that,” she murmured. She still thought he was going overboard, but he really had the most incredible violet eyes.
“And I’ve been told I’m brutally honest.” He deliberately looked at her mouth, then back at her eyes. “It wasn’t meant as a compliment.”
She resisted the urge to lick her lips but couldn’t produce a quick retort.
“I’m gonna be brutally honest right now. You make me curious, Senada. Sometimes I wonder if you’re a witch. Sometimes I’m sure you’re just a scared little girl in a woman’s body.”
Senada flinched. That last observation was too close for comfort. “I’m not—”
He lowered his head, blocking out the light and cutting off her protest. “Seems like the more I learn about you…” He skimmed his mouth against her lips in a taunting movement, and she felt his thighs brush against hers as he stepped closer. “The more I want to know.”
His hand cupped the small of her back. He drew her body flush against his and took her mouth.
She stiffened, expecting him to rush, to plunder her mouth. His hands were firm, but his lips were gentle, seeking, asking, wanting.
Her heart tripped in surprise.
He was everything she hadn’t anticipated. He massaged her nape with his callused hand at the same time he flicked his tongue on the seam of her lips. Soothing and arousing her.
A slow, insidious hunger wound its way through her. She instinctively parted her lips and waited for him to explore her mouth, but he didn’t. Instead, he suckled her bottom lip between his.
His gentleness was at odds with the hard ridge of his masculinity pressing against her. He squeezed her in his arms and gave a low growl. “God, you taste like heaven and hell.”
He slipped his hand up her rib cage to just below her breast. Senada’s heart pounded. She wanted…his touch. She lifted her hands and slipped her fingers through his hair. He ran his tongue just inside her lips, his fingertips grazing the underside of her breast.
Her chest hurt to breathe. She wanted more. But still he played with her, his fingers edging close to her nipple then scooting away, his tongue dipping inside her mouth then darting back. Her blood was burning her. Her breasts were aching with arousal.
He slipped his finger close again, toyed with her tongue again. Her frustration shot through the roof. “Kiss me,” she whispered against his mouth. “Really kiss me.”
Chapter Four
“That’s what I’m doing,” he murmured, and his fingertips moved terribly, wonderfully closer.
“No, you’re not,” she managed. “You’re playing with me.”
Troy continued to sip at her lips. “Don’t wanna rush.”
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Leanne Banks
Troy Pendleton doesn't know how he got roped in to tracking Senada "Sin" Calhoun all the way to a two-bit Texas saloon. But he's got orders from his family not to come back to Tennessee without her, or the truth about why she left.The sultry bar manager tries to send Troy packing, but the desire in her eyes has him staying put. Sin's every bit as tempting as her name suggests–it's a good thing Troy's not stupid enough to fall in love…Sin's not interested in confiding in Troy about why she fled to her hometown. She learned a long time ago not to count on any man, and she's not going to start with the youngest and most overbearing of the Pendleton brothers. Yet denied other sensual pleasures, she's soon indulging in a passion-filled night with the too-rugged, too-masculine Troy. When morning comes, will she be able to trust him with her secrets–and her heart?
For the Love of Sin
Leanne Banks
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Troy Pendleton doesn’t know how he got roped into tracking Senada “Sin” Calhoun all the way to a two-bit Texas saloon. But he’s got orders from him his family not to come back to Tennessee without her, or the truth about why she left. The sultry bar manager tries to send Troy packing, but the desire in her eyes has him staying put. Sin’s every bit as tempting as her name suggests--it’s a good thing Troy’s not stupid enough to fall in love…
Sin’s not interested in confiding in Troy about why she fled to her hometown. She learned a long time ago not to count on any man, and she’s not going to start with the youngest and most overbearing of the Pendleton brothers. Yet denied other sensual pleasures, she’s soon indulging in a passion-filled night with the too-rugged, too-masculine Troy. When morning comes, will she be able to trust him with her secrets—and her heart?
Previously published.
To Eric, for motivation and inspiration
Special acknowledgments to
Donna Beard and Karen Britton for sharing
technical knowledge and personal experience
Prologue
“I wish someone would go after her,” Lisa Pendleton said, exasperation tugging at her features as she toyed with her food. “Someone who could reason with her.”
Troy Pendleton took another bite of chicken and watched his brother Brick nearly choke on his iced tea. This was the first family meal his sister, brothers and their assorted spouses and children had shared since Lisa gave birth to triplets.
“Reason?” Brick repeated to his wife. “When has anyone been able to reason with Senada Calhoun?”
Lisa scowled at him. “You just never understood her.”
“Me and the rest of the human—” Brick muttered, then broke off and sighed. He drummed his fingers on the table. “Maybe Jarod—”
Jarod Pendleton shook his head. “I used my vacation for my honeymoon.” He grinned and wrapped his arm around his new wife, Augusta.
Troy rolled his eyes at the lovesick couple and reached for another roll.
“One of Garth’s mares just foaled,” Jarod pointed out gently, eliminating another brother. “And Daniel’s busiest season is starting now.”
“That leaves…”
A long silence followed Lisa’s statement. Troy paused while buttering his roll and looked up to find everyone staring at him. Worst of all, Lisa was looking at him as if he were the last great hope. Realization dawned. He immediately shook his head. “No way.”
“I’m worried about her,” Lisa said in earnest. “One day she was my business partner and friend, the next, she sold her share of the partnership and left for some bar in Texas.”
“Maybe she needed a change.” Lord knew, Troy felt like he needed one. His restlessness was eating him from the inside out.
“Something is wrong. I can feel it. I’d go after her if I could, but with the babies…” She lifted her hands helplessly.
Troy was tempted to offer to keep the kids in lieu of going after Senada Calhoun. His only obstacle was that he couldn’t breastfeed. “You need someone who can reason with her. I sure as hell can’t.”
“I need someone who can find out what’s wrong with her first,” Lisa corrected.
Troy’s interest in the elaborate home-cooked meal waned. He dropped the uneaten roll to his plate. “Senada and I don’t get along.” What man could get along with a woman whose nickname was Sin, a woman who seemed to take the greatest pleasure in tormenting a man with her blow-off-the-roof sensuality? A woman who, he was convinced, was a few sandwiches short of a picnic.
Lisa placed her hand on his arm. “Show a little compassion, Troy. I know you’ve got some in there somewhere.”
Troy held his breath for a long moment. A glimmer of concern flickered to life inside him. Even for Senada, this behavior was unusual. What if there was something seriously wrong? What if she needed help? He snorted at the thought of Senada accepting help from him. Age-old self-protective instincts rushed to the surface, and he shook his head. “Give it up. There’s nothing you can say that will make me go tearing after Senada Calhoun. Nothing.”
When Lisa continued to look at him with that please-help-me expression on her face, Troy lifted his hands in exasperation. “I’d have to be certifiably crazy to go after her.”
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Chapter One
He was certifiable all right, Troy thought as he eyed the desert landscape with distaste. Someone should have tossed him into the loony bin and thrown away the key. Slamming his rental car door shut, he walked toward Padre’s Saloon.
In the back of his mind, he hoped this little mercy mission would earn him enough respect from his brothers to give him more control over the family farm. Thus far, they’d wanted his brawn, not his brains, and the growing need to leave his own mark was making him restless.
Even so, he still wasn’t quite sure how he’d allowed himself to get talked into this. All Troy knew was that he was there to get some answers, and he would do what it took to get them. He’d also been instructed to persuade Senada Calhoun to return to Chattanooga. That, he thought as he stepped into the busy watering hole, could get a little tricky.
Peanut shells littered the scarred wooden floor. Cowboy paraphernalia decorated the walls. His stomach growled at the scent of hamburgers and beer. Past the haze of cigarette smoke and what seemed like a herd of male bodies, he immediately spotted Senada.
Troy watched her give instructions to a waitress, then turn her attention to the customers, moving from one table to another. Her hair swung in a long black silky mantle past her shoulders, her eyes flashed with a hint of the fire in her personality, and her smile, well, her smile could tempt Saint Peter.
She probably thought the black jeans and frilly white shirt she wore covered enough to discourage male attention. Perhaps on another woman they would, but Senada’s black jeans cupped and molded her hips the way a man would want to cup and mold her with his hands. Her blouse had a ribbon that held the white material against her tanned skin.
Troy bet every man in the place was rubbing his fingers together with an itch to tug that ribbon loose. In his own gut, he felt a visceral tension grab and clench.
Shaking his head, he put the first sensation down to temporary insanity and the second…to indigestion. He moved toward her, and by the time he got within talking distance, her back was facing him. He hesitated a second, feeling as if he were preparing to walk straight into a fire.
He shook off the ridiculous thought. “Any chance a guy from Tennessee can get a beer around here?”
Senada whirled around, her dark brown eyes wide with surprise.
There was something different about her, he noticed instantly. Her usual flirty demeanor was missing, and she didn’t quite conceal a flash of vulnerability. Then he could almost swear he saw steam coming out of her ears.
Senada frowned. “Lisa sent you.”
Troy shrugged. No use denying it.
“She shouldn’t have.”
“She was worried.”
“There’s no need. I’m fine. I—”
He grinned. “What am I gonna have to do to get that beer?”
Senada stopped and took a deep breath. She wanted to club him. Lord help her, the last thing she needed was one of the Pendleton brothers planting his size-12 feet into her life. “This way,” she said tersely, and headed for the bar.
“Interesting place you’ve got here,” Troy said.
“I don’t own it. I manage it.” She motioned for the bartender. “Rico, please give this man a beer.”
“On the house?” Troy asked, needling her a little to gauge her reaction, as he leaned against the bar.
Senada paused in the act of pouring herself a glass of water and looked at him sideways. “Consider it one for the road.”
Troy laughed. Maybe this was the change he needed after all. He leaned closer, matching her haughty expression with a steady gaze. “Darlin’, my return flight’s not booked. I’m here for the duration.”
Impatience gnawed at Senada, and she seriously considered throwing the water in his handsome face. It took all her effort, but she stifled the urge. “Then make the duration short. There’s no need for you to stay on my account.”
“There is a need.” He took a long swallow of beer. “I need to know why you left Chattanooga, and—”
She pushed her hand through her hair. “I told you. I needed a change.”
Troy shook his head in disbelief. “Here? You would deliberately choose to leave a thriving upscale catering business for this?”
“My mother is from this area,” Senada said, and took another sip of her water.
“Are you living with her?”
Senada didn’t know why she felt compelled to answer his questions, except she knew that if she didn’t give him some excuse, he would never leave her alone. “No, I’m not living with her.”
“Is she sick?”
“No,” she said quickly, feeling the familiar pinch of loss. “She’s dead.”
Troy paused a half beat. “When?”
“Years ago.” She neither expected nor received sympathy from Troy. She knew the Pendletons had lost their mother and father, yet somehow they had come out stronger because of it. Until lately, she thought she’d become stronger because of her losses too. “Listen, I need to get back to work. There’s no need for you to be—”
He caught her arm. “I need, because I made a promise. I can’t leave here until I’m satisfied that you’re okay.”
The determined look in his violet eyes unnerved her. “It’s really none of your business.”
“It is now.”
Senada took a calming breath. No need to get upset, she told herself. She could handle Troy. She’d always sensed she made him a little uncomfortable, a little off balance. She preferred it that way. Instead of pulling away, she stepped closer and smiled. “Why Troy, I would have never dreamed you cared. You’re an intelligent man. Now take a good look,” she dared him. “Can you honestly say I look like I’m suffering?”
She withstood his narrowed gaze and felt a measure of surprise that he focused on her face instead of her breasts.
He lightly traced beneath her eyes with his callused thumb. “Dark circles?”
Another dart of surprise raced through her. He was more perceptive than she’d thought, and she would be looking for a new concealer tomorrow. “A good time and late night will catch up with the best of us,” she lied with a shrug, and slipped away. “You should know that. Now you’ve done your brotherly duty. Give Lisa my best and tell her I’m fine.”
Senada turned her back to him and wished with all her heart that she wasn’t lying. Because she wasn’t fine.
Troy watched her deliberately avoid him for the rest of the evening.
“Muy attractiva, sí?” a man next to him said.
Unfortunately, the only Spanish Troy knew was what he’d learned from Speedy Gonzales cartoons and Terminator movies. “Pardon?”
The man snickered. “One hot woman, that Senada. Yes?”
“Yeah,” he said, sizing up the man. “You know her well?”
“Not well enough.” He gave Troy a meaningful glance. “She is a beautiful tease. All the men try, but she goes home alone. My name is Juan Marcheta. You are new?”
“Visiting from Tennessee. I’m Troy Pendleton.”
“You do not sound like the Texans.”
Troy chuckled. He supposed he sounded pretty foreign to this guy. “I guess not. You know anywhere I can get a room for the night?”
Juan recommended a few places, then left Troy to ponder the puzzle of Senada. Although he would be the first to admit he had the sensitivity of a block of wood, he suspected something strange was going on. Aside from Senada’s abrupt departure from Chattanooga, she usually had a half-dozen men dangling on her line. The fact that she wasn’t seeing anyone gave him pause.
Women.
Troy shook his head. With the exception of Ethan and Nathan, his brothers had all lost their minds. They’d turned his existence upside down. They’d gotten married.
And now, because his sister-in-law was worried, he was in a two-bit Texas border town, and he was not only supposed to get some answers from a woman, he was supposed to reason with one—a crazy one at that.
He swore under his breath. This family duty stuff was for the birds, but Troy was a man of his word. Sliding back into the hard wooden chair, he ordered a burger and nursed another beer and watched Senada.
It was 2:00 a.m. when Senada pushed the key into the doorknob of her small but well-maintained rental home. Feeling a prickling sensation on the back of her neck, she stopped and turned around. Probably Juan, she thought, staring into the darkness. He’d followed her home another time.
“The answer is no,” she said, wishing her porch light hadn’t burned out.
Her heart sprinted when she saw the silhouette of a big male form. Juan wasn’t that tall.
The moonlight hit Troy’s face as he stepped forward. “I didn’t ask.” His mouth tilted. “Yet.”
Relief sputtered through her, followed quickly by irritation. “What are you doing here?”
He shrugged and opened the door for her. “Just wanted to see where you live.”
Senada kept her back to the doorway. “It would have been polite to warn me.”
“It would have been polite for you to invite me,” he corrected in a low voice, and met her gaze.
“It’s late.”
Troy nodded but didn’t graciously back off. His blue eyes didn’t waver, his jaw was set in a firm line.
She sighed and led the way into her living room. “Three minutes,” she told him, and flicked on a lamp.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and prowled around the small room. “Looks like rental furniture.”
She’d always known Troy was big, but having him in her home made her more aware of the fact. Two minutes and thirty seconds, she noted. “Mine’s in storage. This was quicker, easier.”
“Why were you in such a hurry?” he asked, turning back to her.
Tossing her purse on the sofa, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I needed a change. Haven’t you ever felt like you needed to make a change and it had to be now?”
“Yeah, but moving halfway across the country requires a little planning,” Troy drawled, stepping closer.
“For you,” she conceded, and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. “I’ve been told I’m impulsive.”
“Maybe.” He gave her a long considering look, his gaze brushing over her body and returning to her face. “But there’s more to the story, isn’t there, Sin?” he said in a low voice.
It was an intimate, you-can-trust-me voice, and she felt the lick of temptation. She’d always thought Troy, with his six-foot-plus height, unapologetic chauvinism and blatant masculinity, was a little over the top.
Too much had been her assessment. Too big. Too rugged. Too intractable. Senada had always been the one to hold the aces when it came to male/female relationships. She suspected Troy preferred calling the shots. They wouldn’t mix well. Still, he was a strong man, more than physically strong, and that strength appealed to her now when she was vulnerable. Maybe he could handle the truth.
He cocked his head to one side and lifted his hand to cup her cheek. “Something is going on,” he mused. “Tell me and I’ll help.”
Her heart tugged. His hand was gentle, his gaze warm. She’d locked herself away from human kindness over the last few weeks and suddenly felt the loss. It would only take one step, and she would be in his arms.
In that second, she thought of her big, strong father and how he’d been unable to handle the truth. She took a giant step back, physically and emotionally. “It’s been three minutes.”
“I’m gonna find out,” he told her.
Sin shook her head and headed for the door. “You’re wasting your time.”
“I already know you’re not seeing any men, and Lord knows that’s out of character.”
She whipped around. “How do you know that?”
“Juan, but I would have found out anyway.” He twisted his lips in a cynical grin. “I’m the youngest of seven brothers, Sin. When you’re the youngest, you learn by watching, so I’m damn good at watching. And just so you’ll know, another characteristic about the youngest is that people underestimate you.” His gaze fell over her like a hot brand, then he looked into her eyes.
“Hasta la vista, baby.”
Troy didn’t like the accommodations.
His hotel room was the size of a closet, and if he turned over in his bed, he would land on the floor. No AC, no fan. To make matters worse, the walls were thin, and it sounded as if the guy next door had gotten very lucky tonight.
To distract himself from the explicit cries of his neighbors, he thought about Senada.
More convinced than ever that something strange was going on, he considered the possibilities. She could be sick, but it didn’t make sense that she would abandon her home and friends for that reason.
She could also be pregnant.
If the guy had dumped her, maybe she felt humiliated and didn’t want to face her friends. He frowned. The only catch was that he’d never heard of anyone dumping Senada. She went through men like tissues and always appeared to be the one to move on.
He remembered how soft her cheek had felt in his palm, and the appealing mix of fire and vulnerability in her eyes. For a minute there, she’d looked as if she wanted to trust him, as if she would share her secrets with him.
He swore, kicking off the sheet. This was going to take patience, and he’d never been patient. He deliberately closed his eyes, and the image of her stole past the barrier in his mind.
Her mouth was red and taunting, her eyes dark and sensual. His body heated. He swore again. His dear beloved brothers had sent him straight to hell.
Over the following nights, Senada tried to ignore Troy. It should have been easy. Most of her customers were male. Many watched her, but none with Troy’s unwavering intensity. He wasn’t the least bit sly about it, just propped himself on a stool at the bar, nodded his head in greeting, and watched.
She really didn’t need this, she thought, five days after he arrived. She’d fled to San Pedro with the intention of going to her father, but once she’d arrived, she chickened out.
If her father had been unable to handle her mother’s illness thirteen years earlier, how could he deal with Senada’s current crisis?
So, here she was, still shocked and afraid, and trying to adjust to a new and totally necessary lifestyle. She shook her head and checked the time. These days she was more conscious of the clock.
Juan sidled up to her. “This man from Tennessee. Troy. He comes every night. Is he bothering you?”
She flicked a glance at Troy and saw that he must have overheard. “Bothering me?” she repeated. Yes.
Another regular customer came up behind Juan. “Yeah, like stalking.”
Senada wrinkled her eyebrows. “I don’t know if I’d really call it stalking. It’s more—”
Juan waved his friend up to the bar. “If he’s bothering you, you should let us know and we’ll take care of him.”
Senada rolled her eyes. She could practically smell the machismo. “He’s not doing—”
“We can make him go away.”
She felt a stab of alarm. If this got out of hand, it could get messy, and Senada didn’t consider breaking up fights one of the perks of her new job. “You don’t need to do anything. He’ll be going away very soon,” she said, throwing a meaningful glance in Troy’s direction.
Troy shook his head. “I’m not leaving until I get what I came for.”
Juan stiffened and pointed his finger at Troy. “What makes you think you have rights over Senada?”
Pausing, Troy gave a warning glance at Juan’s accusing finger. He took an unrushed swallow of beer and leaned back in his seat, clearly sure of his power. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I’ve got rights with Senada.”
Then he looked at Senada, and she felt the impact of his take-no-prisoners gaze to her toes. “She left me at the altar.”
Chapter Two
After being ignored for days, Troy felt a measure of satisfaction at seeing Senada stare at him in shock. “I may not be the only one she’s left at the altar,” he continued, elaborating on his fabrication, “but I think I deserve some answers. Wouldn’t you?” He shot Juan a challenging glance. “She told me that all those stories about her ex-husband having to be—”
“Ex-husband!” Senada repeated, apparently finding her voice.
“—rushed to the hospital on their wedding night were just rumors.”
“The hospital,” she sputtered. “You’re lying.” She looked at Troy as if he’d lost his mind.
“You’re crazy. You’re—”
Troy nodded. “That’s right. Crazy for you. You stood with me at the altar, then left me. I deserve a chance to win her back.” He nodded at the men. “Agreed?”
Juan looked uncertainly from Senada to Troy.
A waitress gave Senada a searching glance. “Why’d you dump him?”
“I didn’t! He’s lying. I never promised him anything. He’s crazy. He just wants…” She took a breath, running out of words.
“He just wants what, señorita? Or is it, señora?” Juan added meaningfully.
“Can you honestly say you didn’t stand beside me at the altar?” Troy demanded, recalling Lisa and Brick’s wedding, where Senada had been a bridesmaid.
She paused, her eyes narrowing. “No, but that wasn’t our—”
“There you have it, boys. From her very own mouth.”
Juan motioned his friends backward. “A man deserves to claim his woman.”
Senada slammed the pitcher of beer down on the counter. “His woman, my fanny.”
“Appreciate your understanding,” Troy interjected with a nod.
She glared at him with enough heat to melt iron, then seared him with a rush of Spanish words for which he could only guess the meaning.
She narrowed her eyes. “You know, up until this moment, you just annoyed me,” she told him as she rounded the counter. “I had decided you were pushy because you were misguided. And if you were a little thick upstairs, it was probably just genetic, since the rest of your brothers seemed to be the same way. When people annoy me, I ignore them.”
She leaned closer to him, and Troy was amazed at the quick leap of response in his body. “Now, I really don’t like you,” she whispered in a voice that shouldn’t have been but was outrageously seductive. Her eyes were nearly black with emotion, and Troy felt himself sinking.
He closed his own eyes, blinking at the odd sensations inside him. Before he knew it, cold beer gushed down his head. Senada put the empty pitcher on the counter. He swore. His hair was drenched, his shirt wet. “What in hell—” He swore again, jerking away and shaking his head.
Senada smiled. “That’s what I do to people I don’t like. Don’t mess with me, Pendleton. You are out of your league.”
After his shower, Troy received a call from his brother Brick. “Nothing yet,” he said, toweling dry his hair. “I knew she was moody, but you could have warned me about her temper.”
“Lisa says she doesn’t like being told what to do. And she gets really upset if she thinks someone is trying to put one over on her,” Brick said.
Troy glanced at his beer-drenched shirt wadded up in the corner of his room and nodded.
“Yeah, I figured that out.”
“Well, if you screwed up, Lisa says Senada loves chocolate.” Brick lowered his voice.
“Personally, I’d recommend ducking. What do you think is wrong with her, anyway?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll find out. Even if it kills me,” he muttered, then asked about the farm. After a couple of minutes, he finished his conversation and gazed around his new living quarters. A vast improvement over the hotel, the two-room garage apartment was still too small and hot, but it was clean. After sizing Troy up, his elderly landlord had given him a list of rules a mile long and required two months’ rent in advance. But as they say in real estate, location is everything. His present location was perfect for his purpose.
Before, his determination to solve the mystery of Sin had been a matter of his promise to his brother and sister-in-law. Now, male pride and a near self-destructive determination drove him. He pushed the curtains aside and looked out his window. Two doors down and across the street stood Senada’s house. He could just imagine her delight when she learned who her new neighbor was.
The finger prick still hurt, Senada thought as she tested her blood. She just wasn’t very good at sticking herself. She jotted down the date, time and results in the little notebook, then eyed the syringe warily.
“The needle is my friend,” she told herself.
“Liar,” she whispered back, and started to perspire. Her anxiety was strictly related to that damn needle, not her lack of insulin. She took a breath and grabbed a premoistened alcohol pad.
“Right thigh, today,” she said, wishing her voice had a more soothing effect on her nerves. She brushed the pad over her thigh, then poised the syringe over the same area.
“The needle is my friend.” Her overriding instinct was to close her eyes, but she’d learned it hurt worse when she missed her targeted area. “This is not my leg.” Denial worked for the millisecond she needed, and Senada plunged the syringe into her thigh.
She swore at the sharp sting. “That was most definitely my leg.” Her hands trembling, she tossed the used syringe away and stood. It should be easier now, she thought, glancing at her watch. But it wasn’t. She kept waiting for the day when she didn’t mind living by the clock, making sure she ate every four hours, testing her blood and giving her own injections of insulin. But Senada had always lived by her own clock and her own rules, so she was furious that her body had betrayed her.
There should be a rule somewhere that people who were afraid of needles didn’t develop insulin-dependent diabetes. There should be another rule that chocoholics didn’t develop diabetes. There should be, but there wasn’t.
As much as she would like to ignore the intrusion of her recent diagnosis, Senada couldn’t. She knew her mother had died of complications from diabetes. Either from ignorance or neglect, her mother hadn’t been conscientious about her health. Senada had inherited her mother’s height, her expressive brown eyes and thick, black hair. Unfortunately, she’d also inherited the diabetes.
The doctors assured her, however, that she could live a long, healthy life if she took care of herself. She’d been careless about that area in the past. Her idea of taking care of herself had been luxuriating in a bubble bath and sleeping until noon on her day off every now and then.
A healthy diet was a necessity now. A regular schedule was a given. She stretched her shoulders against the sudden sensation of being tied down. The needles and the lack of chocolate were tough to endure, but the most difficult for her so far was the loss of freedom.
She sighed and made a face at the mirror. After extensive negotiations with her dietician, they had found a way for her to have a chocolate dessert once a week. And tonight was the night for her devil’s food cupcake filled with chocolate cream.
Senada brushed her hair from her face and smiled wryly. Meat, vegetables and a small portion of grains first, but then the cupcake. “Better than sex,” she murmured in sweet anticipation.
Forty-five minutes later, she’d lit a candle, put soft music on to play in the background and had eaten her vegetables. She removed her empty plate from the table.
The moment had arrived. Her heart beat faster. Her mouth began to water. Taking a deep breath, she stripped off the cellophane wrapper. It had been over a month.
The doorbell rang.
Senada sighed, giving a backward glance toward the door. She contemplated quickly biting the top off of the cupcake, but was determined not to rush this rare, small pleasure. She left the table and pulled open the door to Troy Pendleton.
She tried to close it, but his big foot prevented her.
“C’mon, Sin, give me a break. I’m here to apologize.”
That gave her pause.
“Sort of,” he added.
She gave the door another push.
“I brought chocolates.”
She opened the door and stared. “Chocolates?”
He gave a slow grin as if he’d just shot two through a basketball hoop. It was a grin designed to get past a woman’s defenses. Other women, she thought, would find that grin appealing. “You mentioned an apology?” she prompted, noting the box of candy.
“Are you going to invite me in?” He looked past her.
No. “I’m a little busy right now. I—” She broke off when she spotted her neighbor, Mrs. Rodriguez, running toward them at a breakneck pace. Senada had met a few of her neighbors, but Mrs. Rodriguez had been the most welcoming. The effusive, nurturing woman had even brought her homemade bread.
“My husband! My husband! He is dead!” Then she tore into a flurry of Spanish.
Senada shared a look of alarm with Troy, and all three rushed to the Rodriguez’s house. At first glance, Mr. Rodriguez did look dead, sitting limply in his chair with his head propped back and his mouth open. But Troy quickly determined the man was breathing. In the back of her mind, she noticed and appreciated Troy’s quick, calm manner. While Senada comforted her neighbor and called for an ambulance, Troy located a bottle behind the chair.
Apparently, the man had mixed alcohol with his medication. He would need medical attention but would be okay. By the time the ambulance arrived, Mr. Rodriguez was awake but groggy. Senada and Troy left while Mrs. Rodriguez read her husband the riot act in Spanish.
“I appreciate your help,” she told him as he followed her inside her house. Her antipathy toward Troy had faded. How could she hate him when he’d allowed Mrs. Rodriguez to blubber all over him?
“For a minute there, I didn’t know who was going to need medical treatment more, Mrs. Rodriguez or her husband.”
Senada grinned. “She’s very emotional.” She glanced at the table. The candle was gutted and the music had stopped. The lone cupcake, however, remained.
She shook her head. “Well, this has been an exciting evening.”
Troy nodded. “Yeah, I’m starvin’.” He picked up her cupcake. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Senada watched in horror as he took a bite. “Wait!”
He paused, glancing at her, then the cupcake. “It’s okay,” he assured her. “A little stale, but nothing’s wrong with it.”
Senada bit back a whimper. She’d only bought one cupcake because she couldn’t stand the temptation of having several around the house.
Troy swallowed another bite. “I apologize about the conversation with Juan, but I had to get him off my back.” He didn’t like explaining himself but had concluded it was necessary if he didn’t want any more beer dumped on his head. “And this way, I figured I could get him to leave you alone too. Sort of kill two birds with one stone.” He took another bite and polished off the cupcake.
He glanced at Senada. She was wearing a strange expression. If he didn’t know better, he would swear she was going to cry. “Something wrong?”
She stared at the empty paper cupcake liner.
“Sin?”
Her gaze met his. “I want my cupcake back.”
Troy blinked. “Your cupcake?”
She nodded. “I want it back. I’ve waited over four weeks to eat that cupcake, and I want it back.”
“Four weeks,” he echoed. “It wasn’t that stale.”
“I want my cupcake.”
Troy shot her a wary glance. The woman was loony. She must be on some strange kind of diet that was affecting her brain, he thought, then assessed her curves with masculine appreciation. “You don’t need to be on a diet. Why don’t you eat some of the chocolate candy I brought you?”
She hesitated, then sighed. “Let me see them.”
Troy lifted the lid off the box and presented them to her.
Senada closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. She looked as if she were having an erotic experience. “They smell wonderful,” she whispered.
The sensual expression on her face tugged at something inside him. Her whisper heated his skin. He pulled at his collar.
She carefully selected three pieces of candy and set them on a napkin in front of her. He expected her to put one whole piece in her mouth at a time. Instead, she took a small bite of the first chocolate and rolled it around in her mouth. He could practically imagine her tongue working over the morsel.
He watched her throat ripple when she swallowed.
“I know this makes no sense to you, but it’s been over a month since I’ve had chocolate, so I’m not reasonable about it.”
He watched her lick a chocolate buttercream center, and his gut tightened. He cleared his throat. “Lisa mentioned you have a, uh, weakness for chocolate.”
“She wasn’t lying.” Sin took another tiny bite and closed her eyes. “I can give up a lot of things, but this one’s tough.”
“Then why deprive yourself?” He was feeling a little deprived just watching her.
She shrugged. “Necessity.” She picked up the second piece. “And this has got to last a week.”
Troy watched, mesmerized, as she sucked the cherry from the center. His body grew warm at the sight of her pink tongue skimming over her lips. If her mouth did that to a little piece of chocolate, then what would she do to a man? He stifled a groan at the intimate image.
“You mind if I get some water?” he asked. When she absently shook her head, he headed for the refrigerator. Her attention was fixed on the chocolate with such intensity that he wondered if the rumors about her past lovers being carted off to the hospital were true. Troy pressed the cold glass to his forehead, then took a quick gulp.
Senada glanced up at him. “Could I have just a sip of that?”
“Sure.” He set the glass in front of her and watched her drink. He swallowed when she swallowed.
She gave him a wry smile. “Last one.”
Troy nodded. “You want me to light the candle for you?”
She sighed. “No.”
Her eyelids fluttered downward, and an insane idea struck him. He went with it even though he questioned the wisdom of it. “Well, you should do something special since it’s your last one for a week.”
She glanced up. “Think so?”
“Yeah.” He picked up the last chocolate. “You should let me feed it to you.”
Senada shook her head and shot him a skeptical glance. “Oh no.”
“Yeah, you should. It’ll be memorable.”
“No.” She reached for the chocolate, but he moved his hand.
“Yeah.”
“No,” she said more forcefully, reaching again.
Troy zigged. She zagged. And the truffle was smushed.
She looked at him in disgust. “You smashed my truffle.”
“Sorry about that.”
“You ate my cupcake.”
He nodded. “You want another one?”
“No, I want that one. That truffle.”
He lifted his fingers to her mouth. “Then take it.”
“I should get a knife,” she said, frowning at him.
“I don’t think I trust you with a knife,” he said, wary of the gleam in her gaze.
Senada rolled her eyes. “Okay, I’m not wasting that truffle.” She pulled his hand closer and looked at him again. “I hope you’re enjoying this.” Then she took her first lick.
Troy felt the sensation of her kitten-soft tongue in every erogenous zone of his body. It was a bizarre form of torture, watching Senada Calhoun lick chocolate from his fingers.
He never would have suspected his fingers were sensitive. He never would have suspected he could become completely and totally aroused by such a simple action of a woman’s mouth on his finger. Especially when that woman didn’t even like him. But her spicy scent combined with the bittersweet smell of chocolate and liquor made him take short, shallow breaths because he feared intoxication.
Her single-minded attention and overtly expressed pleasure made him sweat. Her exotic eyes were hooded as if she were overcome with desire. Her full lips pouted as if she’d been kissed and wanted more. When her tongue skimmed the inside of his middle finger, it was all he could do not to groan.
Still holding his hand, she gave him a considering glance. “You know, if I bit, it would really hurt.”
He met her gaze and tried to hide his arousal. “Maybe,” he conceded, not bothering to keep the dare from his voice.
She gave a double take and looked at him again. This time, Troy knew she was considering him sexually. Her dark eyelashes swept down, shielding her eyes the same way a filmy nightgown shielded a woman’s body. A gentle tease. He wondered if she knew how that affected a man. How it affected him.
She gently put his hand away from her. “That was a delicious truffle, even though you smashed it. Maybe even better than the cupcake,” she said with a slight, smoky smile. “And it was certainly memorable. Thank you for the chocolates.”
Standing, she gave a little shrug. “Guess you’d better head back to your hotel. You’ll want an early check-out so you can get back to Tennessee.”
Troy shook his head. He was going to kill his brothers for this detail. K-i-l-l them. He willed his body to forget what it was hoping for, then he stood. “As a matter of fact, I’ve already checked out of the hotel.”
Senada’s face lit up with delight. “Well, be sure to tell Lisa I said hello. I’ll give her a call sometime. I promise. I just have to settle some things here first and—”
“What kind of things?” he interjected, allowing her to lead him to the door.
She gave a vague gesture with her hand. “Oh, things.” She opened the door.
Troy slipped his arm around her waist and pointed to his new domicile. “You see that house down there.”
She glanced at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Yes.”
“You see the garage apartment?”
Her eyes glinted with suspicion. “Yes.”
“If you need anything, day or night,” he told her, “I’ll be there.” He thought about kissing her, but based on her hostile expression, he thought she really might bite him this time. “Anytime, Sin. Night or day.”
Chapter Three
Senada’s dietician got a kick out of the chocolate cupcake story. In retrospect, Senada even found it amusing.
“This is the first time I’ve seen you laugh since you’ve been here,” Helen Waverly said.
“Maybe Troy Pendleton isn’t all bad.”
“Maybe not,” she murmured. “But he’s bad enough.” Her feelings about Troy were constantly changing. When he informed her that he lived two doors down from her, she could have cheerfully dumped another pitcher of beer on him. When he helped her with her neighbor, she’d almost liked him. And when he fed her the chocolate truffle, she’d felt a surprising shot of sexual attraction. Very surprising. Since her diagnosis she’d felt frozen, at least as far as her femininity was concerned.
Now she didn’t. Senada wasn’t sure she liked the source of the change.
“Have you called your father yet?” Helen asked.
“Not yet. I’m still trying to decide how to do it.”
Helen arched her eyebrow at the excuse but let it pass. “And have you thought about attending a meeting of the local support group?”
Senada shifted. “I’m thinking about that too.”
“You can’t stay in a holding pattern forever,” she said gently.
Senada nodded. “I know.” She deliberately changed the subject. “But about those chocolates?”
Helen rolled her eyes. “Put them in the freezer. They’ll last longer that way. One a day,” she said, lifting her index finger for emphasis, “with a meal.”
Senada smiled. “You don’t know how happy you’ve made me.”
They had a full house on Friday evening, and Senada was busier than ever. Several customers casually asked her about Troy. She acted as if she didn’t know what they were talking about, but the back of her neck prickled with irritation. In the short time that he’d been there, he’d made a place for himself. The men greeted him; the waitresses flirted with him. At this very moment, he was in the back because the cook had asked him to take a look at the ice maker.
“Here you go,” she said, placing two pitchers of beer and four frosty mugs on a table. She shot a quick glance at the men dressed in denims and sporting cowboy hats. “Welcome to Padre’s. Are you new to town? I haven’t seen you before.”
One man gave her a long considering look. “We’re from the Circle K. I’m Chris Grant, the foreman.”
Circle K. Her father’s ranch. The room began to swim. Senada blinked, then took a careful breath and smiled. “Bet that job keeps you busy. I hear it’s a pretty big operation.”
He shrugged. “Busy enough, but Calhoun lets me off to come into town every now and then. Maybe I could show you the spread sometime. What’s your name?”
Senada paused. She considered conjuring up an alias and immediately felt impatient with her cowardice. So what if her father learned she was there. Maybe it was time. “Senada,” she said, and gave the group of men a half grin as she left. “If you need anything, yell.”
Her mind spinning, she slapped the door to the back room so hard, it hit the wall as she rushed through it.
Straight into Troy.
“Whoa!” He grabbed her shoulders.
“Sorry,” she muttered, still shaken.
He frowned, studying her. “What’s wrong? You look like somebody hit you.”
“Nobody hit me,” she told him. “Not really.”
He cocked his head to one side. “Hit on you?”
The tray she held separated her chest from his, but his hands felt warm and reassuring. His gaze was strong but gentle, and the combination sent a tumbling sensation in her stomach. For a moment, she considered dropping the tray and putting her arms around him.
She shook her head and immediately backed away. Where did that thought come from? She rolled her eyes. “They all order beer, and they all hit on me. It’s part of the program.” She looked past him. “What have you done to my ice maker?”
“Fixed it.” He pushed her hair behind one shoulder. “How are you gonna compensate me?”
He touched her as if it were no big deal, and it shouldn’t have been, but Senada felt her heart race. She swallowed an oath. Maybe she needed to check her blood sugar. “Your beer’s on the house. I’ll even throw in a burger if you want.”
“You’re all heart,” he said wryly.
“That’s me, sweet as—”
“—Tabasco sauce.”
She flicked her gaze back up to him. “Go home.”
He gave a slow, terrible, wicked grin and leaned close to her. “Not until I get what I came for.”
“Troy,” she said, throwing his innuendo right back, “you wouldn’t know what to do with it once you got it.”
Troy’s eyes lit with challenge, and he leaned dangerously close.
“You little thief!” The cook’s voice rang out. “What are you doing with those hamburgers? Six of them. I oughta—”
Senada broke away and rounded the corner to find a little boy, terrified and defiant, holding burgers in his hands. “It was only five! Pig!” he yelled back at the cook. “You’re a stupid pig!”
Pete’s face turned purple. “Why, you little—”
Senada’s heart twisted. “Hold on, Pete,” she said to the cook, then quickly assessed the boy. His clothes were worn, his cheek was smeared with dirt and he wasn’t wearing any shoes. “Are you hungry?”
The boy jutted out his chin. “So what if I am?”
She walked closer. “For starters, you could ask before taking the burgers. How old are you, anyway?”
“Twelve.”
“More like nine,” Troy muttered from behind her. “You gonna eat all those yourself?”
The kid looked at Troy warily, clearly intimidated by his size. “Maybe. What’s it to you?”
Troy shrugged and leaned against the counter. “Nothing. Go ahead. I’d just hate to see you get sick.”
“Sick?”
“Five burgers is a lot to eat.”
“It was six,” Pete insisted. “Six of my burgers.”
“I’ll cover it,” Senada said, finding the situation disturbing. “You can cook some more.” Pete grumbled as he made his way to the refrigerator.
“I wasn’t gonna eat them all,” the boy said.
Troy nodded. “You got a name?”
“Rocky.”
“You got a family?”
Rocky’s brown eyes glittered with defiance again. “Yeah. So what?”
“Where do you live?”
The boy made a quick dash for the door, but Troy was quicker. He caught the boy by the arm.
“Lemme go!”
“Where do you live?”
Rocky glared at Troy. “We ain’t got no house. It’s my mom, my sister and me. My dad’s in jail. My mom cleans rooms at the hotel, and we ain’t got no house.”
It hit Senada hard. She couldn’t exactly say why. Maybe she was still reeling from meeting someone from her father’s ranch. Maybe Helen’s words about how she should get involved with other people had finally taken hold. Either way, Senada felt as if someone had hit her in the stomach. Wake up. Things could be worse. There are other people in this world in far worse circumstances than yours.
Her eyes met Troy’s, and the steadiness of his gaze calmed her. She cleared her throat. “You didn’t say where you live,” she finally said very quietly.
Rocky lifted his thin shoulders. “For the last two weeks we’ve slept in a warehouse.”
Troy took a deep breath. He knew what he was going to have to do. “How would you like a real roof over your head for a change?”
“I don’t want social services.”
Troy gave a wry laugh. “Do I look like social services? I have access to a two-bedroom garage apartment. You think your mom would like that?”
“Maybe.”
“Yeah, well, how about I walk with you to your mom’s, and we can ask her.”
“Can I keep the burgers?”
Senada blinked, spurred into action. “Yes. Just a minute, and I’ll give you some soda.” She filled some cups, gave them to Troy. “And here are some nachos. If you want more,” she told Rocky, “let me know, and I’ll get them for you. Okay?”
“Okay,” the boy said in a surprised voice. “Thanks.”
Senada looked at Troy curiously. “This sounds like your apartment. You’re ready to go back to Tennessee?”
Troy wasn’t certain he heard hope or disappointment in her voice. “No chance, Sin. I’m headed back to that crappy hotel.” No AC. No fan. Stifling a groan, he paused. “Unless you’d like to show a little compassion and hospitality and let me stay with—”
“Sorry, no,” she managed quicker than lightning, but Troy would have sworn she found it tough to refuse him.
He chuckled. The woman was begging him to leave at every turn. Her eyes, however, seemed to be begging for something else. He was obviously suffering from delusions. “Had to try. I’ll see ya later, Sin. Lisa sent some baby pictures and told me to show them to you.”
All wide eyes and tousled hair, she clasped her hands tightly together. “Okay.”
Troy narrowed his eyes. She’d looked upset earlier, and she didn’t look any happier now.
Knowing she couldn’t care less about his sleeping arrangements, he deliberately misunderstood her concern. “Hey,” he said, chucking her gently under the chin, “don’t worry about me. It’s a terrible motel and there’s no air conditioner and I’m lonely, but I’ll be okay.”
She rolled her eyes and swatted at his hand. “You know, it’s almost what you deserve. Are you sure you don’t have a split personality? It amazes me how a complete jerk could do something so, so—” she glanced at Rocky, then back at Troy “—nice.”
Troy grinned. “Just a backwater country boy keeping you on your toes.”
After Troy got the Horge family settled in to his apartment and tossed most of his belongings in the backseat of his car, he noticed Senada’s light was still on. Reluctant to face the hot little motel room that was waiting for him, he rang her doorbell.
He heard footsteps, followed by a long pause. She was probably trying to decide whether to open the door or not. He mugged for the peephole.
The door whisked open, and Senada stood there in a long silky-looking white robe holding a bowl of cereal. At that moment, he coveted both the body beneath the robe…and the cereal. His stomach growled.
“Hello to you too,” she said.
“Noticed your light was still on,” he said, edging forward.
She looked at him and sighed. “Rocky’s family all moved in to your apartment?”
“Yeah, and I didn’t ever get those burgers you promised. It’s hell being a hero.”
Senada sighed again and held the door open with her shoulder. “Okay, come on in. Rice cereal or frosted corn flakes?”
“Both,” he said, walking through the doorway toward the dining room. “Just give me the box. I’ll eat the cardboard.”
She chuckled and poured a big bowl combining both cereals, then added milk. “Here. What’s Rocky’s mother’s name? I thought I’d take a bag of groceries over tomorrow.”
“Maria, and she’d really appreciate it. They’ve got a few things to tide them over. Stuff I bought a few days ago.” Glancing at Senada, he recalled his conversation earlier that day with Lisa and fished the photos out of his shirt pocket. “Take a look at the triplets. I swear, those babies change every day.”
Senada reached for the pictures and smiled. “They’re adorable. Oh, and Lisa cut her hair.” She squinted her eyes. “Is Brick losing his?”
Troy laughed. “No, that’s just a shadow, but I’ll pass on your observation to him. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”
She met his gaze and arched her eyebrow. “He never liked me.”
“I wouldn’t say that.”
She shot him a look of disbelief.
“More terror that you were going to find someone for Lisa before he could get his stuff together.”
“He almost lost her.”
“Yeah, but look at ’em now.”
Senada sat in the chair next to him and shook her head. “It’s hard for me to imagine having a family like yours. I don’t think I could handle it. Do you ever feel stifled?”
Troy thought about that as he crunched his cereal. “Every once in a while, but we’ve had to hang together during some tough times.” He glanced at her and wondered about the pensive expression on her face. “What about your family?”
“We’re a lot more independent. My mother died when I was pretty young, and my father and I aren’t close.”
“So what do you do at Christmas?”
She tossed him a chiding look. “I’m not alone unless I want to be.”
He’d bet she wasn’t. Troy allowed his gaze to fall over her again. Her breasts made his hands itch to touch them, her waist was small, her hips slim but well curved. And her legs, well, he thought, looking at the bare tanned limbs, her legs were designed to shred a man’s restraint. But it wasn’t so much the physical package that set Sin apart from other women. It was her attitude. She was the most natural, unselfconsciously sexy woman he’d ever met.
Taking another bite, he shook off his useless thoughts. “I can’t even begin to comprehend a holiday without too much food, too many kids and an argument over who gets the last piece of pie.”
She grinned at him. “And since you were the youngest brother, I bet you didn’t get that last piece of pie very often.”
“Until lately,” he conceded, then switched the subject back to a troubling thought. “I know you’re as independent as they come, but don’t you ever wish you had someone to unload on?”
A lost expression flickered across her face, quickly replaced by a trace of irritation. She stood and took both their bowls to the sink. “It’s all about what you learn. You learned to depend. I learned not to.”
He followed her to the kitchen. “Sounds like a complete lack of supervision. I can just imagine what kind of trouble you got into when you were a teenager. Now, if you’d been a Pendleton, we would have locked you in your—”
She turned around and tilted her head, her brown eyes meeting his. “But I’m not a Pendleton. What are you after, Troy?”
“Answers.” Damp from her shower, her hair left a dark spot on the shoulder of her robe. He’d waited just about as long as he’d wanted to to touch her, so he lifted a strand of her hair. Slippery as satin, like her robe.
Her gaze assessed him. “And that’s all, right?”
He didn’t let go of her hair, and he didn’t back off from her gaze. “I’ve been told I have the sensitivity of a block of wood.”
Senada bit her lip to stifle a chuckle. “I can see that.”
“I’ve been told that I don’t know when to stop.” He slipped his broad fingers through her hair to the back of her head.
Senada let him. Later, she would have to figure out why. “I can agree with that,” she murmured. She still thought he was going overboard, but he really had the most incredible violet eyes.
“And I’ve been told I’m brutally honest.” He deliberately looked at her mouth, then back at her eyes. “It wasn’t meant as a compliment.”
She resisted the urge to lick her lips but couldn’t produce a quick retort.
“I’m gonna be brutally honest right now. You make me curious, Senada. Sometimes I wonder if you’re a witch. Sometimes I’m sure you’re just a scared little girl in a woman’s body.”
Senada flinched. That last observation was too close for comfort. “I’m not—”
He lowered his head, blocking out the light and cutting off her protest. “Seems like the more I learn about you…” He skimmed his mouth against her lips in a taunting movement, and she felt his thighs brush against hers as he stepped closer. “The more I want to know.”
His hand cupped the small of her back. He drew her body flush against his and took her mouth.
She stiffened, expecting him to rush, to plunder her mouth. His hands were firm, but his lips were gentle, seeking, asking, wanting.
Her heart tripped in surprise.
He was everything she hadn’t anticipated. He massaged her nape with his callused hand at the same time he flicked his tongue on the seam of her lips. Soothing and arousing her.
A slow, insidious hunger wound its way through her. She instinctively parted her lips and waited for him to explore her mouth, but he didn’t. Instead, he suckled her bottom lip between his.
His gentleness was at odds with the hard ridge of his masculinity pressing against her. He squeezed her in his arms and gave a low growl. “God, you taste like heaven and hell.”
He slipped his hand up her rib cage to just below her breast. Senada’s heart pounded. She wanted…his touch. She lifted her hands and slipped her fingers through his hair. He ran his tongue just inside her lips, his fingertips grazing the underside of her breast.
Her chest hurt to breathe. She wanted more. But still he played with her, his fingers edging close to her nipple then scooting away, his tongue dipping inside her mouth then darting back. Her blood was burning her. Her breasts were aching with arousal.
He slipped his finger close again, toyed with her tongue again. Her frustration shot through the roof. “Kiss me,” she whispered against his mouth. “Really kiss me.”
Chapter Four
“That’s what I’m doing,” he murmured, and his fingertips moved terribly, wonderfully closer.
“No, you’re not,” she managed. “You’re playing with me.”
Troy continued to sip at her lips. “Don’t wanna rush.”
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Leanne Banks
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Troy Pendleton doesn′t know how he got roped in to tracking Senada «Sin» Calhoun all the way to a two-bit Texas saloon. But he′s got orders from his family not to come back to Tennessee without her, or the truth about why she left.The sultry bar manager tries to send Troy packing, but the desire in her eyes has him staying put. Sin′s every bit as tempting as her name suggests–it′s a good thing Troy′s not stupid enough to fall in love…Sin′s not interested in confiding in Troy about why she fled to her hometown. She learned a long time ago not to count on any man, and she′s not going to start with the youngest and most overbearing of the Pendleton brothers. Yet denied other sensual pleasures, she′s soon indulging in a passion-filled night with the too-rugged, too-masculine Troy. When morning comes, will she be able to trust him with her secrets–and her heart?