Cactus Flower by Alice Duncan Read Free Book Online Page A

horizons.
           No!
She couldn’t let a mere moment’s pleasure ruin her plans. Patsy.
She had to remember Patsy above all else.
           “Mr.
Taggart?” Again, she strove for lightness and achieved it. Eulalie
was, first and foremost, an actress of the highest caliber. “I believe
you’ve lost track of our purpose here.”
           “I
don’t think so.”
           If
he didn’t remove his hands from her breasts, she was going to scream.
Not, unfortunately, in distress, but in pure, lust-crazed pleasure. When
she’d made love with Edward, she’d been deeply in love, but she
hadn’t felt this pure animal desire. She hadn’t really even believed
women could feel this kind of overwhelming passion.
           No.
No, no, no. Patsy. She had to remember Patsy. And Gilbert Blankenship.
And poor Edward.
           “Mr.
Taggart, I’m going to faint here and now if you don’t stop that
and feed me.”
           “I’ll
feed you. I’ll stuff you full.”
           Trust
a man. On the verge of panic, Eulalie spoke sharply. “That’s not
what I meant, and you know it. My body is not for sale, Mr. Taggart.
Unhand me.” His warm breath on her bare skin was about to send her
over the edge. For the briefest second, Eulalie wished she could just
give in to the sensation; to give herself, however briefly, to the keeping
of this strong, warm, protective male.
           By
this time in her life, however, Eulalie knew such delicious feelings
were only transitory—and in her case, they might well be deadly. No
one would ever rescue her. She was on her own. She and Patsy.
           It
took an almost superhuman effort, but she slipped out of Nick’s embrace,
knelt, and scooped up her fallen corset. Then, her fingers trembling,
she pulled it on again and dared turn and peer at Nick.
           Mercy,
he was something to look at. Tall and broad-shouldered, his torso tapered
to a slim waist and narrow hips. The bulge in his trousers was huge,
as were the massive, muscular legs supporting the rest of him. Eulalie
would like to see him naked. And aroused. As beautiful and warmhearted
as Edward had been, he’d also been kind of scrawny. As purely as Eulalie
had loved Edward all those years ago, she still wouldn’t mind seeing
Nick Taggart naked.
           Which
was nothing to the purpose. “May I depend on you not to overstep the
bounds of propriety again, Mr. Taggart?” She smiled at him; a cool,
aloof smile that cost her virtually all of her remaining composure.
           “I
can pay you.” Nick looked as though the words had been pulled from
him against his will and better judgment.
           Eulalie
shut her eyes for a split second. If only life were as simple as that.
“My body is not for sale,” she repeated softly, wishing things could
be different, wishing she’d never had to leave New York, much less
Chicago.
           He
watched her for a while longer, his eyes narrow, an expression on his
face that Eulalie couldn’t quite define. She lifted her chin defiantly.
“And what’s the matter with you, Mr. Taggart?” In truth, Eulalie
knew exactly how he felt—both voluptuous and resentful—because she
felt the same way about him.
           “I
don’t like being teased, Miss Gibb,” he said at last.
           Oddly
enough, Eulalie was a little ashamed of herself. She, who had planned
her campaign ruthlessly, refusing to consider the feelings of anyone
in the universe save herself and Patsy—and for good reason—felt
guilty about having tempted Nick Taggart. She wouldn’t let on.
           “I’m
sorry you feel that I teased you, Mr. Taggart. I was at fault for setting
out the wrong corset, although it was an oversight.”
           “You
were just trying to get me stirred up.”
           She
didn’t want to fight about it. He was right, and she was right, and