Long Tall Texans: Justin Part 5

Chapter Five.

If Shelby had hoped to find Justin less angry over dinner, she was doomed to disappointment. He sat at the head of the table like a stone man, barely speaking through the meal. She couldn't talk to him. She didn't know what to say.

Afterward, he went out the door without a word and Shelby felt a sense of utter desperation. If only she could go to him and put her arms around him, explain how she felt, why she was the way she was. But would he believe her, with their past?

Misery wrapped around her like a blanket. She got her purse and went out to her car. If Justin thought she was going to sit around by herself for what was left of the evening, he could just think again.

She started the sports car, revved the engine, backed out and roared away. The wonderful thing about the little car was the delicious feel of its controlled speed. She loved the straight road, the sense of freedom she felt with the wind in her long hair, the exhilaration of being alone with her thoughts.

Justin hated her, but that was nothing new. He always had. She'd hurt him and he was never going to forgive her. She didn't know why she'd agreed to marry him; it was never going to work out. She'd been a fool to go through with it in the first place, so she had only herself to blame for her present misery.

She was so deep in thought that she didn't notice the stop sign until she was on it, and the loud baritone of a truck's horn made her blood freeze.

A huge transfer-trailer truck was barreling down the highway. Shelby's little car wasn't going to be fast enough to beat that mammoth vehicle across the intersection, and it was touch and go if she'd be able to stop at all.

With her heart in her throat, and the numb certainty of death stiffening her body, she hit the brake. The car went into a spin, the squeal of tires terrible in the later afternoon stillness, her face frozen with terror as she lost control and the sky went around and around and around...

The car spun into the deep ditch and leaned drunkenly sideways, but amazingly it didn't turn over. Shelby sat, shaken but unhurt, nausea bitter in her throat and the world spinning around her. There was the sound of another car screeching to a halt. A door opened. There was the sound of running feet and then, suddenly, a man's anguished shout.

"Shelby!" The man's face was familiar, but somehow unfamiliar. It was hoa.r.s.e and choked and blackly furious. "Answer me, d.a.m.n it, are you all right?"

She felt her seat belt being forced away from her with hands that were lean and brown and shaking. She felt those same hands running over her body, searching for blood or broken bones, exquisitely gentle.

"Are you all right?" Justin asked huskily. "Do you hurt anywhere? For G.o.d's sake, sweetheart, answer me!"

"I...I'm fine," she whispered numbly. "The door...?"

"It won't open, the frame's sprung. Easy does it, now." He carefully reached down to get her under the armpits and with formidable strength he lifted her clear of the car. When she was on the ground, swaying, he picked her up with exquisite tenderness and carried her up from the ditch. The truck driver had stopped down the road and was coming toward them, but Justin didn't seem to see him. His expression was rigid with control, but he couldn't stop his arms from trembling under her slender body.

That fact finally registered in Shelby's dazed mind. She looked up then and saw his face, and her breath fluttered. He was flour-white, only his eyes alive and glittering blackly in that set, haunted face. He looked down at her, his arms convulsively dragging her against his chest.

"You little fool...!" he choked.

As long as she lived, she knew she'd never forget the horror she saw in his eyes. She reached up to hold him, her only thought to remove that look from his eyes.

"It's all right, Justin," she murmured softly. His reaction fascinated her. She'd never seen him shaken before. It made her feel protective, that tiny c.h.i.n.k in his cool armor.

"I'm fine, Justin," she whispered. Her eyes searched his, amazed at the vulnerability there. She touched his mouth, her soft fingers caressing as they slid up into his thick, dark hair. "Darling, I'm all right, really I am!" She pulled his mouth down and put hers softly against it, loving the way he let her kiss him, even if it was only out of shock-which, in fact, it was. For several seconds she savored the newness of it, then something stirred in her slender body, and her mouth pushed upward, hungry for a harder, deeper contact than this. It had been years since they'd kissed, since they'd really kissed. She moaned softly and he seemed to come out of his trance. His arm contracted, and his hard mouth opened hungrily against hers on a wild, shattered groan.

His mouth hurt as it dragged against hers while he muttered something violent and unintelligible against her soft lips. He pulled back with evident reluctance as the truck driver came running down the highway toward them.

"Is she all right?" the man asked, panting from the long run he'd had. "My G.o.d, I was sure I'd hit her...!"

"She's all right," Justin answered tersely. "But that d.a.m.ned car won't be when I can lay my hands on my rifle."

The truck driver sighed with pure relief. "d.a.m.n, lady, you can sure handle yourself," he said with admiration. "If you'd lost your nerve and thrown up your hands, you'd be dead and I'd be a mental patient."

"I'm sorry." Shelby wept, her nerve broken from the combination of the near miss and the exquisite ardor of Justin's hard mouth. "I'm so sorry. I didn't even see you coming!"

The truck driver, a young man with red hair, just shook his head, barely able to get his breath. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine," she said, forcing a trembling smile. "Thank you for stopping. It wasn't your fault."

"That wouldn't have made me feel any better," she was told. "Well, if you're sure, I'll be on my way." He looked at Justin, and almost offered to help, but the glitter in those black eyes wasn't encouraging.

"As my wife said, thanks for stopping," Justin said.

The younger man nodded, smiled and walked away with patent relief, wondering why a woman that pretty would marry such a desperado. He was glad she wasn't hurt. He wouldn't have relished having to face that wild-eyed husband unarmed.

Justin didn't say another word. He turned, carrying Shelby to the Thunderbird. He balanced her on his knee, opened the pa.s.senger door and put her inside very gently.

"What about my car?" she asked.

His black eyes met hers. "d.a.m.n your car," he said huskily. He slammed the door and went around to get in under the wheel. But he didn't start the car. He sat with his hands, white-knuckled, gripping the steering wheel for a long moment while Shelby waited for the explosion that she knew was about to come. Justin had been badly shaken and somebody was going to pay for it. Now that he was sure she was all right, she could imagine that he was loading both verbal barrels.

"Go ahead, give me h.e.l.l," she said tearfully, searching in the glove compartment for a tissue. "I was driving too fast, and I wasn't watching. I deserve every lecture I get." She blew her nose. "How did you get here so fast?"

He still didn't speak. After a minute, he sat back in the bucket seat and fumbled a cigarette out of his pocket. He lit it with still-trembling hands, staring straight ahead.

"I followed you," he said curtly. "When I heard you gun the car out of the driveway, I was afraid you might try to take out your temper on the highway, so I tagged along." His head turned and his black eyes flashed at her. "My G.o.d, I paid for sins I haven't even committed when I saw you spin out."

She could imagine how it had been for him, having to watch. Even though he didn't love her, it would have been terrible.

"I'm sorry," she said inadequately, folding her arms across her b.r.e.a.s.t.s shakily.

His chest rose and fell with a huge, angry breath. "Are you, really?" he said. He was back in control now, and the cool smile on his face infuriated her. "Well, you can say goodbye to that d.a.m.ned sports car. Tomorrow, I'll go downtown with you and steer you toward something safe."

"What did you have in mind, a Sherman tank?" she asked with ice in her tone.

"A bicycle, if you keep this up," he corrected angrily. "I told you once before, Shelby, your reckless days are over."

"You're not going to order me around!" she shot at him through trembling lips and clenched teeth. "I'm not your ward!"

"No," he agreed with a mocking smile. "You're my wife, aren't you? My saintly, untouched wife who can bear anyone's hands except mine."

It was too much. She burst into tears again, turning her face to the window, burying her eyes in the soggy tissue.

"Don't," he groaned. "For G.o.d's sake, stop it. I can't stand tears!"

"Then don't look, d.a.m.n you," she whispered, stomping her foot.

He swore roughly, digging into his pocket for his freshly laundered linen handkerchief. He thrust it into her trembling hands, feeling as if someone had kicked him.

"You'll make yourself sick. Stop it. You're all right. A miss is as good as a mile, isn't it?" he asked, his voice softer now, deeper. He touched her hair hesitantly. It was all coming back into focus, little by little. He frowned, because now he remembered something that panic had knocked out of his mind. She'd touched his face and whispered something, and she'd put her mouth against his to comfort him. What had she said...?

"You called me darling," he said aloud.

She moved jerkily. "Did I? I must have been out of my mind, mustn't I?" She sniffed and mopped herself up. "Can we go home, Justin? I need something to drink."

"I could use a neat whiskey myself," he said heavily. His eyes searched over her wan, sad little face. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm tough," she murmured.

"Tough," he agreed. "And reckless, stupid, impulsive-"

"You stop that!" she protested. Her pale green eyes glared at him, red-rimmed.

"You kissed me."

She went from white to rose red and averted her eyes. "You were upset."

"I've been upset before, but you never kissed me, Shelby." His dark eyes narrowed as he reached for the ignition switch. "Come to think of it, in all the years we've known each other, that's the very first move toward me you've ever made."

She leaned back against the seat, her arms folded. "Justin, my purse is still in the car," she murmured evasively.

He reached down to the floor, picked it up and put it in her lap. "You grabbed it before I lifted you clear," he said. "It came along for the ride."

"You aren't really going to shoot Abby's old car, are you?"

He reversed the car and then pulled in a perfect circle back the way he'd come. "It might get that gentle a treatment if it's lucky," he muttered.

"Justin! It wasn't the car's fault!"

"Sit back and relax now, Shelby. I'll have you home in a minute."

She ground her teeth together as he sped down the road at no less a speed than she'd been driving. "Pot," she muttered.

"Pardon?"

"Pot! The one that calls the kettle black! You're doing sixty!"

"It's a big car."

"What has that got to do with it?"

"Never mind." He smoked his cigarette, frowning thoughtfully. Things had been pretty clear in his mind until ten minutes ago. Now he began to wonder if he hadn't got things twisted. He'd a.s.sumed that Shelby found him repulsive all those years ago, that she still did. But her soft lips had been warm and eager, and for those few seconds she'd been absolutely ardent. Of course, she was frightened, he had to admit, and reaction did funny things to people. But if she was that concerned when he was upset, there had to be a little caring left in her.

He pulled up in front of the house and, despite her protests, carried her up to the door where he balanced her long enough to open it.

"No need to worry Maria..." he began, but no sooner had he got the words out than Maria came running down the hall. When she saw Shelby's white face, a stream of Spanish broke from her.

"I'm all right," Shelby told her. "The car went into the ditch, that's all."

Maria looked at Justin. That wasn't all, but she knew better than to make a fuss. "What do you want me to do, Senor Justin?" Maria asked.

"I'll get her upstairs. How about pouring me a neat whiskey and bringing up a brandy for Shelby?"

"Si, senor."

"Why can't I have a neat whiskey?" Shelby asked.

Justin's dark eyes searched hers and he pulled her just a little closer as he went easily up the staircase with his soft burden cradled against his chest. "You're just a baby."

"I'm twenty-seven," she reminded him.

He smiled gently. "I'm thirty-seven," he reminded her. "And that's a pretty formidable ten-year jump I've got on you, honey."

The careless endearment made her flush. She lowered her eyes to his s.h.i.+rt. He'd changed earlier, before they ate. This one was Western cut and blue plaid. It suited him. It smelled of detergent and starch, smoke and cologne. She loved being in his arms. If only she could tell him that, and explain why she was afraid of him. But she couldn't.

He carried her into her room and put her on the bed, his eyes going hungrily over the way that d.a.m.ned red and white dress clung in all the right places. It wasn't low-cut, but it displayed her high b.r.e.a.s.t.s in the best possible way, and looking at them made him ache.

Shelby frowned at the expression on his face. "What's wrong?" she asked, fatigue in her soft voice.

He straightened. "Nothing. I'll have Maria bring up the brandy. You'd better have a hot bath and then I'll take you to the doctor. I want you examined, to make sure you haven't done any damage."

She sat up, her eyes like saucers. "Justin, I'm all right!"

"You're not a doctor and neither am I. You took a h.e.l.l of a jolt and you were d.a.m.ned near in shock when I pulled you out of that car." His jaw set stubbornly. "You're going. Hurry up and get changed. Wear something-" he hesitated "-less s.e.xy."

Her eyebrows arched. "I beg your pardon?"

He turned toward the door. "I'll phone the doctor while you take a bath."

She stared after him blankly. "I don't want to go to the doctor."

He just closed the door, ignoring what she did or didn't want. Taking control, as usual, she fumed. She wanted to throw things. She was all right, couldn't he see that? She burst into tears of frustrated temper and went into the bathroom. She felt as if her knees had been knocked out from under her.

After her bath, she dried her hair and put on a neat white blouse and gray skirt and brightened it with a gray and red scarf at her throat. She wondered why he wanted her to wear something less s.e.xy, and then felt her heart skip at the realization that he must have found the red and white dress s.e.xy. She smiled demurely. That was the first time since their marriage that he'd admitted to finding her attractive. If only she could be sure that he wouldn't lose control, it might have given her enough courage to do more than just kiss him.

She picked up the brandy snifter Maria had left with a teaspoon of brandy in it and sipped it quietly. She had kissed him, all right. He was going to worry that to death. But he'd been upset and she'd wanted so desperately to comfort him that her usual inhibitions hadn't built a wall between them. And the kiss had been delicious. Her mouth still tingled from the rough sweetness of his. And then she remembered why it had been so sweet. He'd let her make all the moves. He hadn't taken control away from her. She frowned.

A knock on the door interrupted her brooding. She opened it. Justin was already looking impatient.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"I'm sore..." she began.

"The doctor's waiting. Let's go." He took the brandy snifter from her, put it on her dresser and escorted her out of the room.

The doctor he'd found was at the hospital emergency room. Shelby felt nervous and edgy, because she'd hardly been near a hospital since her wreck in Switzerland, except to Dr. Sims for her premarital examination. But this wasn't Dr. Sims. This was a nice young doctor named Hays, very personable and kindhearted, and obviously a little amused by Justin's irritated concern.

"You'll be stiff for a couple of days, but I'm sure your husband will be relieved to know that you've done no lasting damage," Dr. Hays said after he'd finished his examination and she'd answered the necessary questions. "Just one more thing-there's no possibility that you might be pregnant?" he asked quietly, made more curious by her blush and Justin's averted face. "An experience like this could be risky..."

"I'm not pregnant," she said huskily.

"Then you'll be fine. I'm going to give you some muscle relaxants in case you need them. You can take a non-aspirin a.n.a.lgesic for pain, and a little extra rest tomorrow might be beneficial. Of course, if you have any further problems, let me know."