The Barons of Texas: Jill Read Free Page B

taken on a bruised look, something someone who knew her only on a social or a business level wouldn’t have noticed. But he had, and it was the reason he had returned.
    “How are you doing?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Do you feel like putting on something else now?”
    A shudder racked her body. “I’m cold.”
    Before she could say anything more, he was up andwalking into her closet. He dismissed the rows of perfectly hung business suits, dresses, blouses and skirts, and zeroed in on a full-length beige knit nightgown with long sleeves and a matching robe. His hand closed over the knit. It was a cashmere blend. Perfect. Someone in pain should be encased in softness.
    Beside her again, he saw that her eyes were open. He tossed the matching robe on the end of the bed. “Is this okay?” He held up the gown.
    She gave an ever-so-slight nod, then closed her eyes once more. “I can do it.”
    It made sense that, under any circumstances, she would be adamantly opposed to having him help her change her clothes, but tonight her formidable determination to control all things involving herself was vastly diminished, and as weak as she appeared, she wouldn’t be able to change her clothes without help.
    He had to divert her attention, and he had the perfect topic. “I know you can,” he murmured casually, “but as long as I’m here, I might as well make myself useful.”
    With the greatest of care, he raised her to a sitting position. He had pitched his voice so low he wasn’t certain she could hear him, but there was one statement he knew would probably raise her from the dead. “Besides, there’s something I need to tell you—well, really it’s a confession, and it’s this. I know you’ll agree with me when I say how seldom I’m wrong.” She made a faint sound of disgust. He smiled. She could hear him. Good. “Well, as it turns out, I was wrong tonight. You don’t have Des up here, after all.”
    “Des didn’t…come.”
    “He never comes to your parties, does he?”
    “Some.”
    “Anyone would think he didn’t like you.” He quickly slid the zipper down to below her waist, then slipped the dress off her arms.
    “He likes…”
    The lined dress fell to her waist. He paused, and his throat went dry when he saw the cream-colored, sheer lacy bra she was wearing. He brought her forward to lean against him so that he could reach around her and undo the bra. Perfume rose from her skin as the bra fell away to reveal rose-colored areolas and tight pointed nipples. He felt himself harden, and his mouth began to water.
    He tossed the bra toward the closet and forced himself to continue. “I’m guessing that you’ve decided now is the time to pull out all the stops and go after him, am I right?” He slipped the sleeveless knit gown over her head. “Raise your arms for me.”
    “No.” There was a lack of comprehension in her bruised eyes, but he sensed she was trying hard to focus on what he was saying. “Des likes me.”
    “Yes, he does—as a member of his family. Lift your arms, honey, so I can put on the gown.” Slowly she did. “But I feel I should tell you that you don’t have a chance in hell of getting him into bed, much less to the altar.”
    “No. I do. I mean, why…why would you think I don’t?”
    He forced himself to concentrate on getting her arms through the openings of the gown’s sleeves and not looking at her breasts. Still, the back of his hand brushed the top of one of them, causing his breath to catch in his throat. He almost groaned. Her breasts were exactly as he had imagined them to be—high,round and firm, large enough to fill his hands, but not large enough to make a man’s neck whip around when she walked by. Just as he liked, wanted.
    “Well, first of all,” he said, the huskiness in his voice revealing the effect she was having on him, “as I said before, he considers you family, and I can’t see you changing his mind on that. After all,