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The whirlpool that made up Kenny Traveler was once again trying to suck her into its hazardous depths. But this time she wouldn’t go, and instead of attempting to reason with him, she gazed at him stonily. “This discussion is over. We have nothing more to say to each other.”
“I know I didn’t pick a good time to tell you I loved you,” he went on, just as if she hadn’t spoken, “but it didn’t hit me until today.”
That hurt so much she couldn’t let it pass. “How bloody convenient! Especially since this sudden revelation managed to get you bac
k on the tour again, didn’t it?”
His eyes narrowed, as if he were the wronged party. “Is that what you think? You think I somehow figured out that, if I told you I loved you in front of Dallie, it was going to magically get me back on the tour?”
She regarded him steadily. “That’s what happened, isn’t it?”
For a moment he simply stared at her, then he erupted. “That’s not what happened! I can’t read his mind! I didn’t know that was all he was waiting to hear from me.”
“All!”
“I didn’t mean it like that! I only mean—”
With a violent shove, she pushed herself away from him and rushed blindly forward, not thinking about where she was going, just knowing that she’d lost the dignity she’d been trying so hard to maintain, and hating him for it.
“Emma!”
Tears were clouding her vision, tears she couldn’t let him see. When had she turned into such a crier? Her weakness made her furious all over, especially when she heard him coming up behind her. “Don’t you dare touch me! Don’t you ever touch me again!”
He pulled her to a stop and swept her into his arms, up against his sweaty golf shirt. “Listen to me! I love you, Emma! I don’t know how to say it any plainer.”
She drew strength from her fury and looked him straight in the eye. “Save your breath because I don’t love you! I never did! It was all sex.”
Something devastating came over his features, something that made her feel ashamed. But she wasn’t the guilty party, and her anger, combined with a strong sense of self-preservation, rescued her. She spun away from him.
As she began to march toward the house, she saw that they were all gathering by the gate to watch, these nosy, impossible Texans. And not just Kenny’s family. The Beaudines had shown up, too! All of them were—
She was suddenly flying through the air as Kenny picked her up and grabbed her beneath the knees. He began to run. Run! With a full-grown woman in his arms!
The soles of his shoes struck concrete. She felt the muscles in his arms bunch, and then she was flying. Flying through the air as he threw her into the deep end of the Traveler family swimming pool.
The water closed over her head. She sank . . . rose . . . sputtered . . . and blinked her eyes until she could see through the strands of wet hair.
Kenny stared down at her from the side of the pool with the most tragic, stricken look on his face she’d ever seen. As she tried to make sense of it, his body straightened and he dove in after her, shoes and all.
Her own sandals slipped from her toes as she began to tread water, waiting for him to surface.
He came up sputtering and desperate. “I love you!” he cried. “And it doesn’t have anything to do with golf, or the tour, or anything except what’s inside me! And you love me! It’s not just sex. You’ve got too much integrity for that.”
She stared at the inky hair plastered to his head, the water streaming down his gorgeous, tanned face, his dark, spiked lashes, and eyes that smoldered with intensity. “I’m sorry I figured it out at an inconvenient time, but when have I ever done anything conveniently? And I finally do have it figured out. I have all kinds of things figured out.” He regarded her searchingly. “I know I’m asking for a lot. The idea of spending the rest of your life with somebody who’s been as unstable as me has to be scary, but you’ve got a lot of grit, and you can do it if you set your mind to it.” He paused. “Can’t you?”
She was too stunned to speak.
Despite her lack of response, he wasn’t giving up, and he continued treading water as he tried to convince her. “I know I might never mean as much to you as that school of yours, but a school can’t give you what I can. A school can’t give you kids, and a school can’t walk along the Pedernales with you in the evening, and a school can’t make you laugh.” His voice softened, then grew husky. “I can do all those things, Emma, and a lot more. Just give me a chance.”
Despite the chill of the pool water, warmth was beginning to spread through her. Why hadn’t she remembered that Kenny never did things like other people? That was what made him so infuriating and so wonderful.
The weight of his heavy golf shoes had pulled him lower in the water than she was, but he continued speaking in those urgent, desperate tones. “We’re married, sweetheart. The ceremony might have happened in a seedy Vegas chapel, but I didn’t take those vows lightly when I was saying them, and I’m not taking them lightly now. If you don’t feel married, we’ll do it all over again, right here in Wynette, or we can go back to England and get married there, whatever will make you understand that this is real. We’re attached to each other now, and that’s the way it has to be.”
Attached. This man was attached to her.
“I know how much that school means to you. Maybe I can—I don’t know—buy it or something. I could take out some loans, pick up more endorsements. We’d have to sell the ranch, but I’m willing to do that if it’ll make you happy.”
He’d knocked the breath right out of her. He was willing to sell his ranch to buy St. Gert’s? She couldn’t imagine—couldn’t think—but her spirits had begun to fly. At the same time, seeing that desperation in his eyes had become intolerable, and she managed to speak.
