Unmasking the Maverick Prince Page 14

  Mentally and physically exhausted, Tori now sat in the corner booth of Moore’s Drug and Soda Fountain—the business that had been in Stella’s family for sixty years—waiting for her best friend to finish up at the grocer’s so they could head back to the ranch. Her thoughts continuously kept drifting back to the interlude in Mitch’s office, and his declaration that he wanted to see her again after she returned home. Maybe they could try it for a while. And maybe their relationship might progress into something solid. A girl could always play at optimism.

  Tori sipped at her cherry cola and almost choked when she heard the familiar feminine voice coming from the counter to her right. Her gaze zipped to the leggy blonde chatting away about the new house with Gracie, the waitress who’d worked at the fountain since Moses was in knickers.

  She wanted to slink down in the booth to avoid another confrontation with Mary Alice but instead remained upright, pretending to look out the window at the limited traffic on Main Street.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  Tori cursed Stella’s tardiness as she stared up at Mary Alice. “I’m expecting someone.”

  “Mitch?”

  It would be too easy for Tori to lie but she opted for the truth. “Actually, Stella. She should be along any time now.”

  Mary Alice slid into the booth across from Tori and rested her cheeks in her palms. “I’ll leave when she gets here, but first, I just wanted to say that you’re the talk of the town.”

  Tori internally cringed. “How so?”

  “It’s my understanding your doing some sort of story on Mitch. Is it true?”

  Relief relaxed Tori’s stiff shoulders. “Yes, I am.”

  “Is this for a newspaper?”

  “It’s for a magazine.”

  Mary Alice sat back and folded her arms across her middle. “Oh. One of those grocery store rags?”

  Tori quelled the urge to wipe the smug look off the bimbo’s face. “It’s a monthly magazine and very reputable. We do features on prominent Texas businesswomen. Every now and then, we cover successful men, the reason why I’m interviewing Mitch.”

  “Tell me something. Is making out with those men part of the interview process?”

  Stay calm, Victoria. “That was just a friendly kiss. Spontaneous. It didn’t mean anything.” A whopper of a lie. It had meant everything.

  “I take it this job of yours pays well?”

  “It’s a great job.”

  “I guess you live in one of those posh downtown apartments.”

  “It’s a nice apartment.” A small one bedroom apartment that happened to be in a Dallas suburb, the only thing she could afford until she paid off the medical bills, a fact Mary Alice did not need to know.

  Tori was surprised that Mary Alice actually looked interested, and wistful, when she continued her queries. “Is there a lot going on in Dallas? I mean, do you go to museums and that sort of thing?”

  “Sure. When I have time. Dallas has great opportunities in terms of culture. Haven’t you ever been there?”

  Mary Alice frowned. “Once, a long time ago. I considered moving to Houston to go to college right after high school.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Well, because Daddy…” Her gaze faltered. “Because I decided to go to the community college in Halbert County. I studied business so I could help Daddy out at the mill.”

  Tori wasn’t buying any of her bull. “You could have done that in Houston.”

  She presented a fake smile. “I like living in Quail Run, close to my family.”

  As unlikely as it seemed, Tori actually felt sorry for her. “It’s never too late, Mary Alice. There’s a whole wide world out there. You shouldn’t settle.”

  Mary Alice looked totally incensed. “I’m not settling. I’m going to marry Brady and have a nice life.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Tori said, unconvinced that Mary Alice believed her own shtick. “But if you’re having second thoughts, it’s best to stop now before you find yourself stuck in a marriage you don’t really want.”

  Mary Alice slid from the booth, this time more quickly than she’d entered, her expression stony with anger. “Thanks for the advice, Tori. Now let me give you some about Mitch.”

  “I don’t need any advice about Mitch.”

  Ignoring Tori’s protest, Mary Alice set a palm on the table and leaned into it. “Has he taken you down to the creek yet? That’s his favorite place to make love.”

  “I assure you we have not been to the creek.”

  “But you have been in his bed.”

  Tori wondered if she had guilt scribbled all over her face. “What makes you think something intimate’s going on between us?”

  “Because Mitch Warner is a hypnotist, especially when it comes to sex. He’s good at everything he does, and he’s great at giving a woman what she needs, although I’m betting you already know that.”

  This time Tori looked away. “Mitch is only a friend.”

  “I hope that’s true, otherwise you’ll spend nine years of your life trying to convince him to settle down. He won’t do it, Tori. He’s not the marrying kind so you can get that out of your head.”

  “I don’t have that in my head.”

  “Good, because he’s a lost cause when it comes to commitment. I found that out the hard way.”

  The sadness in Mary Alice’s voice drew Tori’s gaze to her melancholy expression. “You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”

  “Sure. He’s very easy to love. But I guess you know that. And if you don’t now, you will.”

  With that, Mary Alice walked away, leaving Tori alone with food for thought and shattered hope. She knew all too well that the advice Mitch’s former lover had bestowed on her was good counsel.

  It would be best to think of Mitch as only her friend and nothing more. She would physically accept what he offered for the rest of the week, then she would walk away while her heart was still relatively undamaged. Before she agreed to be his good-time good girl with no future in the offing.

  For the first time in ten years, Mitch had failed to attend the annual rodeo. Instead, he’d opted to spend the night with Tori—the night before she returned to Dallas, leaving him behind.

  As far as he was concerned, the week had passed too fast, although he couldn’t complain about the time they’d spent together, especially when they’d made love. And they’d made love a whole lot, at night and in the morning in his bed. During the day, in his office or behind the hay in the barn. She’d been willing to experiment, to try new positions, and they’d mastered quite a few. The only thing she’d refused was his offer to make love at his favorite fishing spot down by the creek.

  Right now she sat on the sofa in the den across from him, wearing only his shirt at his request, her feet propped in his lap so he could give them a rubdown. He planned to give her a rubdown all over her body as soon as she quit asking all the damn questions.

  She flipped through her notes, then tucked the pen behind her ear and set the pad down beside her. “Okay, I have about everything I need here except for one thing. I need some sort of quote about your father.”

  Mitch paused with his hand on her instep. “I told you I don’t want to talk about him beyond the fact that I don’t want to inherit his kingdom.”

  “Can’t you think of anything nice to say about him?”

  “I respect his abilities as a national leader.”

  “That’s a start.”

  “That’s the end of it, Tori. I’m not budging on this issue.”

  She slid her feet off his lap and scooted forward on the sofa, studying him with intense dark eyes. “Do you want to say anything about your mother?”

  If he listed all her good points, that would take an entire page, maybe two. “She was a great lady and much more than my father deserved.”

  Tori slid the pencil from behind her ear and tapped it on the pad before gripping it in both hands. “A few nights ago, I went into the den while you
were sleeping to do some more research on the computer. From everything I’ve read, it seems your parents were very much in love.”

  Although Mitch had never understood it, his mother had adored his father right to the end. “Don’t believe everything you read.”

  “I don’t, but I’ve seen pictures of them together. Stories that talked about how they were inseparable before she became ill. Are you telling me that wasn’t the case?”

  Mitch forked a hand through his hair. “When she was sick, he didn’t have time for her. In fact, he wasn’t even there when…” He let the declaration fade away because he didn’t want to get into that with Tori. Resurrecting those old memories, the bitterness, wouldn’t bode well for their last night together. And it could be their last night if he didn’t convince her to see him in the future, a subject she hadn’t wanted to broach to this point.

  She leaned forward and touched his knee. “Are you telling me your father wasn’t there when your mother died?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I think you need to talk about it. Maybe you’ll feel better.”

  He attempted a forced smile. “The only thing that would make me feel better is if you take off that shirt and come sit in my lap.”

  “No you don’t,” she said. “No sexy talk. Not until you answer my question.”

  Fueled by his sudden anger, Mitch bolted from the chair and began to pace. “Okay, Tori, if you really want the truth, I’ll tell you. But it’s ugly.”

  “I can handle it.”

  He braced one arm on a bookshelf, determined not to look at her, otherwise he might not get this out. “My mother wanted to die at home, and she considered the ranch home, not the Bellaire mansion my father bought to impress all his cronies. So I made the arrangements for her to travel here by ambulance, against my father’s wishes. He was royally pissed at me for doing it.”

  “And he wasn’t at her side for that reason?”

  “He was here the morning she died, but he had to get back to D.C. to do the nation’s business.”

  “He left knowing she was going to die?”

  Mitch hated to admit the truth, but he felt it only fair to do so. “We didn’t know it was going to be that day exactly, but we knew she was close. He should’ve stayed anyway.”

  “Were you with her when she died?”

  “Yeah.” This was the most difficult part—the memories of his mother going to sleep and never waking up while he watched. “She slipped into a coma that afternoon while I was reading to her from this.” He pulled out the book of poetry. “She revered John Donne. She taught me to appreciate poetry.”

  Sadness turned her dark eyes even darker. “I did something similar the day my mother died.”

  “You read to her?”

  “I sang to her.”

  Mitch wasn’t at all surprised, and he could imagine how much that had meant to her mother. “What did you sing?”

  “The same song I sang the night we met. She loved Patsy Cline. I think that particular song had to do with her feelings for my father, although we never discussed that. It seemed to hurt her to talk about him.”

  “Where is your father now?”

  “I don’t know. In fact, I don’t even know his name because I never asked, and my mom never offered. She did give me an envelope on my sixteenth birthday that contained his identity. I’ve never opened it.”

  Mitch had erroneously assumed that she didn’t see her dad by choice. He’d never begun to consider she hadn’t met him. “Why haven’t you tried to find out more about him?”

  “Maybe I just want to keep hanging on to the resentment. I guess we’re alike in that respect, resenting our fathers because of what they have or haven’t done. But at least you had a father to lean on after your mom was gone.”

  “Buck, yeah. My dad, no.” Mitch shoved the book back into place and faced Tori. “Then the bastard had the nerve to remarry six months later.”

  Tori’s confusion was apparent in her expression. “I thought he remarried a year later.”

  “That’s what he wanted everyone to believe, and he had the means to cover it up. That whole wedding the following year was only a show for the media. He betrayed my mother’s memory and he came out of it without suffering a scratch on his well-regarded record.”

  “Do you think he was seeing your stepmother before your mother’s death?”

  “He denied it to me. But I’ve never believed it.”

  Tori rose from the sofa and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Sometimes things happen between people that are beyond control, especially when it comes to grief. Maybe he’s telling the truth.”

  Mitch shook off her hand and turned his back to her again. He expected her to listen, to understand, not to side with his father. “It’s not important anymore. That was a long time ago. I don’t care to rehash it, so let’s drop it.”

  “I understand. You’re not willing to forgive your father. But at least you have one, even if he isn’t perfect. That’s more than I’ve ever had.”

  Remorse for his insensitivity turned Mitch toward Tori again, only to find she was at the door. “Where are you going?”

  “To bed.”

  “I’ll be there in a while.”

  She finally faced him. “To my bed, Mitch. I think you need some time alone tonight. And I’m sorry if I’ve made you dredge up some painful memories. I was only trying to help.”

  She had helped him in many ways, if only by listening, that much Mitch acknowledged. But his pride prevented him from protesting, even though he wanted to be with her this last night more than he’d wanted anything in a long, long time. “Fine. If that’s what you want.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, then left without a glance in his direction.

  And more than likely, tomorrow morning might very well be the last time he would see her. He couldn’t blame her for walking away from his bitterness. He understood why she wouldn’t want to be involved with a man who’d made it his goal to steer clear of committing to anything aside from his business. A man who had been so caught up in his own anger that he hadn’t even stopped to consider that she’d never known her own father.

  Spending the night without her in his arms would be his punishment, and he should just accept it like a man. But he’d be damned if he would.

  Nine

  Lying on her side facing the window, Tori felt the bend of the mattress behind her and smelled the trace scent of summer-fresh soap. She sensed his heat a second before he settled against her back and his arms came around her.

  “I’m sorry, babe,” he whispered. “I don’t know what else to say.”

  As far as Tori was concerned, he didn’t have to say anything else. Although she believed it unwise to accept his apology so easily, she felt powerless to do anything else. An even trade for spending a last night with him.

  Turning into his arms, she buried her face against his bare shoulder. Although he had removed all of his clothes, he simply held her for a long while, as if reluctant to make another move. Or perhaps this was what he needed from her at the moment, someone to absorb the pain and anger that still haunted him like a restless spirit.

  Tori did want more from him. She wanted to remember being so closely joined with him that she didn’t know where she began and he ended. To remember what it was like to be totally lost in love with a man, something she’d never understood until now.

  She breezed her hand down his back, over the curve of his hip and then back up his side before reaching between them to touch him. He was already aroused, even before the first steady stroke of her fingertips. When she continued to explore, a slight groan slipped from his lips before he gave her a meaningful kiss propelled by pent-up emotion and the ever-present passion. He clasped her wrist and brought her hand to his lips for a kiss, then sent his hands over, touching places both innocent and intimate. Rolling her onto her back, he kissed his way down her body, breathing soft sensuous words against her skin, stopp
ing to finesse her breasts then working his warm, wonderful mouth lower, bringing her to the sweetest release she had known in his arms.

  He moved over her without a sound, entered her with a sigh, made love to her carefully as if she were precious. Then the passion prevailed, setting them on a frantic course. When they were spent in each others’ arms, their skin damp from the heat of the lovemaking, their ragged breathing echoing in the silent room, only then did Tori realize what they’d forgotten. Again.

  Although the timing wasn’t conducive to pregnancy, she felt she should be honest with him about the chance they’d taken, both tonight and the first night they had been together. Yet when he whispered, “I can’t get enough of you,” in her ear, she couldn’t quite find the strength to tell him. Not yet. But she had to tell him before night’s end.

  He rolled onto his back and settled her against his chest, stroking her hair and kissing her forehead as he always did in the aftermath, a habit of his she had come to appreciate and cherish. Only one more of the many reasons she loved him, and she did love him, wise or not.

  Mitch’s rough sigh signaled the end of the comfortable silence. “I’ve never told anyone about the moments before my mother’s death. Not even Buck. He left the room because he couldn’t handle it.”

  Tori found it odd that Mitch hadn’t blamed Buck for his absence where he had blamed his dad. She also suspected that he was concerned she might use that information in the article. “I promise it will stay between you and me.”

  “And if you ever decide to find your father, I have a few connections who could probably help.”

  “I really appreciate that, Mitch.” And she did. “But I’ll only consider doing that when I decide to have children. I would want to have a medical history, if that’s possible. I doubt I would pursue any kind of relationship with him, and that’s assuming he would even want that.”