Chapter 23
All the guests had left, and Stormy stood in the center of a luxurious guest bedroom. Like the rest of the Masters’ house, the room felt more formal than comfortable. Gold-flecked wallpaper. Tatted lace curtains. Flawless floor to ceiling mirror.
A collection of painted porcelain fans, as fragile as they were beautiful, adorned the tops of two huge mahogany dressers.
She kicked off her boots and sank her toes into the thick, mauve carpet. A family portrait, mounted on the wall, caught her eye. Moving closer, she recognized younger, solemn-faced versions of Sam, Olivia, and Blade. The baby in white had to be Mary, so the boy with spectacles had to be Blade’s brother, Jared.
What would it be like to grow up in this sprawling, three-story mansion? Blade didn’t talk much about his childhood. Did he and Jared play tag in the long hallways or make tents by draping sheets over dining room chairs? Would an accidental spill or unintended scratch be tolerated? From what she’d seen, a small army of maids would be needed to keep everything spotless and polished.
Blade hauled in her valises and shut the door. “The rest of their questions can wait until morning.”
He crossed the room, put his arms around her, and kissed her neck.
Desire rippled to her core as she indulged in the touch of his lips, but she couldn’t let him off easy. He’d hurt her feelings. “You’ve been a royal jackass since we left Yankton.”
He jerked back as if he’d touched a pot he didn’t know was hot. “Have I been that bad?”
“You embarrassed me.”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. “I know. I’m sorry.”
Stormy crossed her arms. “Why did you hesitate to say I was your fiancée?
“I realized something and got distracted.” He sat on the huge high-poster bed, patted the gold satin coverlet, and frowned when she didn’t rush over. “Mary is very special.”
“Go on.”
“When I hugged her, she whispered she’d met the man she wants to marry.”
“So?”
“Mary is my baby sister. She’s too young to understand real love.”
“She’s been studying at that music conservatory in Chicago for almost a year. She’s old enough to know her own heart.”
“She’s vulnerable. When she was little, boys made fun of the birthmark on her face. I know. I used to beat them up.” He jumped up and paced in front of her. “Compliments could turn her head.”
“She does play beautifully, but I doubt that compliments would sweep her off her feet.”
“You don’t understand. A man who says flattering things could really be trying to get at her bank account. It’s something you learn to watch for when you come from money.”
“Oh, I get it,” she said. “You’re rich, so you shouldn’t trust anyone.”
“Can’t,” he fired back. “I can’t trust anyone.”
His words smacked like an unexpected branch in a dense woods.
Stormy stiffened every inch of her spine. “You listen and you listen good, Blade Masters. I didn’t ask to stay in fancy hotels or buy expensive clothes. Selling the steers should pay off the ranch note. I don’t want or need your money. I work for what I want, and I’m happy with what I have.” She drew a quick breath. “I followed you because I love you. I want you to come home with me.”
He stopped pacing and loomed over her, his mouth set in an unsmiling line.
Her heart thumped with alarm. If he was planning to break off their engagement, she wanted to know now. She’d hightail it back to the ranch and cry alone while she checked fences.
His hands locked onto her elbows. Slid up her arms. Traversed her shoulders and caressed her neck.
Drawn like a lodestone to a pole, she rose on her toes. She tilted up her face, only to find that his lips hovered just beyond her reach.
Suddenly, he scooped her up in his arms, carried her to the king-sized bed, and laid her down on her back with her legs spread wide, calves and feet dangling down. She struggled to ignore the heat pooling between her legs and clawed at the fine coverlet until she had fabric enough to hold herself steady.
He leaned over, setting his palms next to her shoulders. His eyes searched hers, but for what? Affirmation? Understanding? If only she could read his mind.
“Stormy, I’ve loved you from the moment we met. I know that’s hard for you to believe, but it’s true. That’s why I gave you this.” Reaching down, he picked up her hand and touched the ring on her left index finger.
His ring.
“I bought it hoping to find love.”
Suddenly, she understood his dark, painful secret, the one Vi Miller had hinted about on the ranch house porch: a past lover had hurt him so deeply, he’d been gelded.
But, that lover was not his true love.
She was.
She and Blade were meant for each other. The proof was plain as the nose on her face. She’d healed him just by being herself.
She wanted to make love right away. Seal this moment forever in their flesh and bones. Afterwards, they’d lie in each other’s arms and make plans to invite his parents to the wedding. This would bridge the rift that separated them, and she’d do the same with her fathers. The life she’d wished for, but never believed she’d have, was coming true.
A tear spilled and trickled toward her temple.
Blade’s expression turned cold. “I’ll never force you to make love to me.” He stood and walked toward the door. “I think I’ll talk to Mary tonight.”
Stormy stared with horror at his rigid back, and then at the closed door. Once again, he’d misunderstood. She didn’t know whether to howl with frustration or bawl like a calf whose mother had died giving birth.
Someone knocked softly on the door.
She slid off the bed and ran to open it.
Olivia Masters held out a set of plush white towels. Smiling warmly, she swept into the room. “I hope you like this room, dear. Blade said you’re an early riser, and it gets the first morning light. Did Blade show you the bathroom?”
The emotional lump in Stormy’s throat prevented her from speaking. She shook her head.
Olivia opened several doors. “This is your clothes closet. This is the smoking closet. Do you smoke?”
“No,” Stormy croaked.
“Sam likes Cuban cigars, and so does Jared, but it’s a bad habit. I hope Blade never picks it up.” Olivia stepped into the bathroom, turned on the lights, and set the towels beside a fancy jar of gardenia bath salts on the ledge of a deep, claw-footed tub. “The water turns hot quickly, so test it before you step in.”
Olivia moved to the bed. She turned down the sheets and plumped the pillows. Then, she walked about the room, fussing with drapes and checking drawers.
Never having seen a mother in action, Stormy watched with interest.
Olivia unlatched the valises and pulled out the blue evening gown. “This is lovely,” she exclaimed. “Stormy, fetch a hanger from the closet, please. If hanging overnight doesn’t ease the creases, I’ll have the laundress steam it in the morning.”
Together, they unpacked the rest of her belongings and stacked the valises in the very back of the closet.
Olivia shut the closet door. “We’ll do more shopping,” she said brightly. “Blade said you lost everything when the steamer exploded. I’m so thankful you weren’t hurt.”
“I don’t need anything more,” Stormy said. “I’ll be leaving soon.”
A sorrowful look darkened Blade’s mother’s face. “I know. What I don’t know is why. Blade refuses to explain.” She stood, silent and withdrawn, for a few seconds, and then gently brushed Stormy’s shoulders. “I will enjoy you while I can.”
Olivia glided toward the door. “Sleep well, dear. Jared and Candace are coming for breakfast.”