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He stopped then, his muscles instantly rigid. “Never,” he whispered, straightening, his hands moving swiftly to her chin, forcing her to look deep into his eyes. “I am sorry, Tessa,” he vowed, his voice filled with regret. “I’ve never meant to hurt you.”
And yet he had. She’d died a thousand deaths all those years ago, just thinking that he’d used her—that she’d meant nothing to him. And again, when he’d seen her in the barn and denied loving her at all. Her throat was hot, her eyes luminous with unshed tears.
He brushed one solitary drop from her lashes and cursed under his breath. “What the hell am I going to do with you?” His thumb caressed the curve of her cheekbone and she felt him tremble.
“I—I can handle myself,” she murmured.
“I know you can, Tess.” With a sigh, he swept her off her feet and carried her back to the bed. She buried her face in his neck, drinking in the clean scent of him, the powerful feel of his muscles. She kissed the warm crook of his neck.
“Stop it!” he rasped. “I’m trying to be noble here.”
“Noble?”
Before she could say another word, he tucked her robe around her and drew the covers to her neck.
“You’re leaving?”
“If and when we make love again—”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” she snapped, lashing back. He was rejecting her again!
His night-darkened eyes searched her face. “Next time, there will be no regrets.”
She shoved the covers aside and sat up in the bed. “There won’t be a next time!”
The cords in his neck protruded. “Stop pushing, Tessa. You’re lucky I still have some self-control.”
“Sure,” she taunted, thrusting her chin forward defiantly. “Now just leave!”
His jaw worked and his eyes clashed with hers. Then, as if afraid he might change his mind, he turned on his heel and strode quickly out of the room. A few minutes later she heard the shower running.
* * *
The next morning Tessa didn’t waste a minute. She’d spent most of the night laying plans, and today she intended to put them into action. If the night had proved anything, it was that she was still just as susceptible to Denver’s charms as she’d ever been. Ignoring the traitorous part of her heart that had argued long and hard with her, she reasoned the sooner she sent him packing to L.A., the better.
She showered, then dressed in a wheat-colored linen suit and magenta blouse. Curling her hair, she twisted it into a thick braid at the back of her head before stepping into tan heels and adding color to her lips, cheeks and eyes. With a satisfied glance at her reflection, she decided that she was ready to face Rob Morrison at Second Western Bank. He’d indicated that he would loan her the money to buy the ranch. Now she had to make sure he was as good as his word.
Downstairs, Milly was already bustling around in the kitchen. Apple pies were cooling on racks by the windows and she was poking at the corners of the floor with her broom.
“I won’t be around for lunch today,” Tessa said.
“You skip too many meals, if you ask me.” Straightening, Milly set the broom in the corner, then eyed Tessa up and down. “My, don’t you look nice.”
“Nice?” Tessa repeated, rolling her eyes. “I don’t want to look nice. How about professional or sophisticated or chic?”
“All of the above,” Denver said as he opened the door from the back porch. Unshaved, hair mussed, he was squinting, as if the morning light were much too bright.
Smothering a smile, Tessa realized he was suffering from a hangover. Good, she thought wickedly. Serves him right!
Milly took pity on him. “How about a cup of coffee?”
“And about two dozen aspirin,” he said, forcing a smile as he fell into one of the table chairs and studied Tessa. “Where are you going?”
“To the bank.” Placing the cup on the table in front of him, she offered him an emphatic smile. “I have an appointment with Rob Morrison.”
“Isn’t he a teenager?”
“He was, Denver. Not only has he graduated from high school, but college, and now he works for his dad as a loan officer.”
