IT AMUSED MEREDITH that Lawrence Harden wasn’t particularly surprised to see her. The old man actually grinned when he found her standing on his front porch.

“Well, well,” he murmured. “I figured you’d be along. Want to know if I sold you out, I guess?”

She laughed. “I don’t even need to ask. I’ll go home.”

“Not without coffee. Who’s your friend outside?”

“My bodyguard,” she said simply. And the way she was dressed, she looked rich enough to need one. If that wasn’t an indication, the huge limousine certainly was.

“Bring him in. He can drink coffee with us.”

Meredith laughed and called to Mr. Smith, who joined them with a minimum of fuss.

They drank coffee, and Mr. Harden told Meredith about his telephone call and the visit he’d had from one of Cy’s directors—Bill, in fact, the director Meredith remembered as being so antagonistic toward Cy.

“He really wants that proxy.” Lawrence chuckled. “Thinks he’s got what it takes to oust Cy and take his place. But I said I’d think about it. I figured you’d be around.”

“I’m not as dim as some people think I am,” Meredith said dryly. “I appreciate what you’re doing for me. Cy will appreciate it, too—although I imagine you won’t care about that.”

“He’s not a bad boy, when he’s away from Myrna.”

Meredith frowned. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about your great-niece,” she said after a minute. “Someday it wouldn’t hurt to get to know her. She isn’t what she seems.”

His eyebrows shot up. “I thought she was your worst enemy.”

“So did I,” she agreed. “But I don’t feel that way anymore.”

They talked for a few minutes, and then she and Mr. Smith left, having thanked Lawrence Harden for his support and promising to be in touch.

“He’s a wiry old man,” Mr. Smith said on the way home. “Good stuff.”

“Yes. A real cattleman, in the best sense of the word.” She leaned back and sighed. “I think I might like a ranch of my own.”

“Buy one. You can afford it.”

“Yes, but can I afford to live on it?” she asked. “My life gets more complex by the day. If I give up the company, I’ll be letting Henry down. I can’t do that. On the other hand, I’m not about to let Don take it away from me. Or Cy.”

“Deal on your own terms,” he suggested. “Get the upper hand and then bargain for what you want. You can do it.”

She smiled, glancing at him. “You’re devious, Mr. Smith.”

“I’m shrewd, which is something else entirely,” he countered. He stared straight ahead as they approached the city limits of Hardin, Montana. “Cy wants to marry you.”

“I know.”

He gave her a knowing glance. “You could do worse.”

“So could he. I’m filthy rich.”

“That isn’t why he wants you. He’s crazy about the boy. Even a blind man could see it.”

She traced patterns on her skirt. “He wants me to leave Blake with him when I have to go back to Chicago on business.”

“Not a bad idea. I can stay with them.”

Her eyebrows levered up. “You and Cy will kill each other.”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said easily. “We’re beginning to understand each other. Besides,” he added, “he needs me to help get him back on his feet. He won’t be much trouble.”

Mr. Smith was soon to regret his words. Because as soon as Cy knew Meredith was talking about leaving, he gave the older man hell three times a day. The inversion therapy, which he did lying prone on a flat table that moved up and down like a seesaw, made him dizzy. The electrical stimulation therapy was unnecessary. He wanted to go back to work. He was furious because the doctor wouldn’t let him drive. In between complaints, he cursed. He didn’t exempt Meredith, his mother, or his son, either. He was in the worst possible temper, and it degenerated by the hour.

“You’ve got the entire household hiding under beds,” Meredith said, exasperated with him. “You’ve got to stop snapping at everybody!”

“I’m not snapping.” He glared at her. “I want to get back to work. I can’t handle my office over the damned phone!”

“Why can’t you?” she asked. “I’m handling mine that way.”

“Smith won’t do what I tell him to, and he won’t let me go at my own pace.”

“That’s because your own pace will land you back in the hospital,” she observed. “You’re trying to do too much.”

He let out an angry breath and turned off the treadmill. “God, this is slow,” he groaned. “Like molasses. I feel as weak as a baby, Meredith.”

That was probably most of the problem, she thought. He hated being dependent on other people. He hated being helpless. Now that he knew he wasn’t going to be paralyzed, he was getting irritable and impatient all over again.

She smiled and walked over to him. “Haven’t you had enough for today, anyway? It’s very early. Mr. Smith just left to take Blake to school.”

He stared at her for a long minute, looking leaner than ever and especially tall in the dark blue silk pajamas and robe he was still wearing because of the earliness of the hour. His dark eyes slid down her body in her neat pink track suit, and he smiled gently.

“You’re dressed for exercise,” he murmured.

“I’ve been running. I do it every day, when I have time.”

“Do you? I used to jog, but I ran out of free time.”

She moved close, getting an arm under his and around his narrow waist. He smelled of cologne and soap, and the feel of that muscular power made her knees tremble.

“You’ve lost weight,” she said as they walked back toward the bed. At least he could walk well now, even if he was a bit wobbly after a physical workout. He’d made tremendous progress since Mr. Smith had started the more strenuous exercises.

“I’ve been ill,” he replied. His arm contracted around her shoulders. “You’re thinner, too. Aren’t you eating?”

“Oh, yes,” she said. “Blake and I are being spoiled by your mother and Mrs. Dougherty.”

He didn’t reply. Things were still strained between him and Myrna. They spoke, and he didn’t go out of his way to be hostile to her, but he was no friendlier.

“Blake reads me a story every night,” he murmured dryly. “I look forward to his bedtime.”

She smiled up at him. “He adores you. Can you tell?”

“It would be difficult to miss.” He stopped beside the bed and turned, taking his time, so that they were face to face. “Do you adore me, too?” he asked softly.

“With all my heart.” She went up on tiptoe and put her mouth gently against his.

He nibbled at her lips with exquisite slowness, smiling as she followed the movement of his mouth and tried to stay it against her own.

“You like that, don’t you?” he whispered. “So do I. I love the way your mouth opens when I touch it, the way you tremble when you feel my tongue going between your lips….”

She moaned, because as he said it, he did it. His hands went to her hips and pulled, gently, lifting her against the slow, raging arousal of his body.

“That feels good,” he murmured. He pulled her closer. “Lift against me.”

“I’ll hurt you.”

He smiled slowly. “No, you won’t. Do it.”

She obeyed him, careful not to throw him off balance. Her hunger for him had grown worse, not better. Abstinence was hard on both of them, but she began to feel its effect on her own nerves. A night in his arms would probably only make it worse, but she needed him as she never had before. Only the thought of the damage it might do gave her the strength to pull back from his firm hold.

“No,” she whispered.

He gave a ragged sigh, his eyes dark with frustrated desire as they looked into hers. “Will we ever be able to love each other again?” he asked. “I feel like one long ache.”

“So do I,” she said. “But I won’t help you hurt yourself. I care too much.”

He drew her forehead to his chest and kissed her soft hair. “You could lie beside me,” he whispered. “I could guide you with my hands, without exerting my back.”

Her face burned with color. She closed her eyes, drinking in the feel and smell of him. “Just at the last, you wouldn’t be able to…I mean, when you…” She faltered.

“When I started to convulse, you mean?” he whispered. He sighed heavily. “No. I wouldn’t be able to control my body, would I?” He shivered a little, thinking of the pleasure he couldn’t have. “Oh, God, it’s so sweet, then! Like dying…”

“Yes.” Her nails dug into his back and she clung to him, her breasts flattened against his hard chest.

His mouth found her eyes, her nose, her lips and pressed softly over them. While he was kissing her, his hands were searching under her sweatshirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra under the bulky garment she had on, and he smiled as he discovered that with his warm, callused hands. He pushed it up, so that he could look at her breasts.

“You shouldn’t,” she said weakly, because she was enjoying it as much as he was.

“Yes, I should. Move back a little, so that I can see you.”

She did, her breath catching as his eyes moved down to the soft mounds he was caressing so gently. His thumbs eased over the hard nipples and his eyes lifted to her face as she reacted to the sensual touch, her body jerking, her eyes dilating.

“Your breasts always were sensitive,” he said softly, and without mockery. “I loved the feel of them in my mouth. I used to dream about the way you looked the first time I kissed you there, the shocked pleasure in your eyes, the feverish trembling of your body.”

“You didn’t know…it was my first time,” she whispered.

“Not at first,” he agreed. He held her eyes while he touched her. “Most women had a difficult time accepting my body. A few were actually afraid of me when I was aroused. But I learned that if I was slow, and very, very gentle, most of them could eventually accommodate me. That’s why I didn’t realize you were a virgin at first.”

She colored as she looked at him. “I never knew, in the old days,” she whispered. “You see, I’d never seen a man…like that, except you.”

He bent, gently kissing her, while his hands made her body shake as if with a fever. “Go and lock the door,” he whispered huskily. “No, don’t argue,” he added gently. “We’re going to lie with each other for a few minutes, nothing more. I won’t risk the progress I’ve made, but I need you very badly, little one.”

She couldn’t deny him. It was sweet, so sweet, to be intimate with him. She went to the door, closed and locked it with fingers that trembled.

She turned, leaning back against it. He dropped his robe and slipped off his pajama jacket. Holding her eyes, he reached for the snap that held his trousers on, popped it, and let them fall, stepping out of them slowly. He was fully aroused, and she looked at him with eyes that worshiped his blatant masculinity, the fit perfection of his bronzed, muscular body.

“There can’t be another man, anywhere, as perfect as you are,” she said huskily.

“Or another woman as perfect as you,” he replied, his eyes on the swell of her breasts under the sweatshirt. “Undress, and let me watch.”

Trembling hands moved to remove her track suit. She tugged off the sweatshirt and slid out of her sneakers before she slipped her track pants and brief lacy underwear down her long legs and stepped free of them. And all the while he watched her, his body throbbing, pulsating, with need.

“It’s been so long, little one,” he said, his voice unsteady as she came toward him.

“Yes.” She went into his arms and pressed close, gasping at the contact with his heated flesh.

He drew her against him, bent his head over her. He shivered with anticipation. His lean hands slid down her back to her lower spine and slowly, tenderly, moved her in a sensuous rotation against the hot evidence of his desire.

He felt her shiver, too. “Here,” he said huskily. “Lie with me.”

He eased onto the bed, and she went down beside him. Then she lay facing him, her hands adoring on his hair-roughened chest, his broad shoulders, his muscular arms.

“Slide down a little,” he whispered, smoothing over one perfect breast with his lips.

“Don’t you mean up?” she asked dazedly, because the intimacy was making her body pulse with fever.

“No.”

She slid down and only then realized what he had in mind. One steely hand caught her thigh and levered one of her long legs over his hip. In the same instant, his free hand slid to her lower spine. A second later he pulled her body close and she felt him go into her.

She gasped. “Cy, no, it’s too soon…!”

“Shhhh. I’ll take the risk.” He brushed his mouth over her eyelids, closing them. His body ignited as his hands smoothed and caressed, easing her into a rhythm as slow as the tides, as relentless as time. “Feel me,” he breathed against her lips. “Feel how completely I can fill you.”

“Your…back!” she wept.

He smiled even through his raging desire. His mouth brushed over her flushed face, gentling her as the rhythm continued, soft and slow and worshiping.

“It isn’t hurting me,” he reassured her. And it wasn’t. He kept his spine straight. The pain had diminished almost completely over the past few days and, except for infrequent muscle spasms, was rapidly becoming a memory. What he was doing to Meredith blotted out pain. All he felt was her soft warmth enveloping him, her body welcoming and submissive. He heard her soft cries as he built the steady rhythm, felt her hands clenching where they held him. He lifted his head, because he wanted to see her face. It was like a mask of unbearable pleasure, her eyes half-closed and blind with need, her teeth clenching with every movement he made.

“Cy,” she whispered brokenly. Her eyes opened. When she spoke, each word jerked out of her in the same rhythm his body was enforcing on her. “I…love…you!”

“Yes.” His hands tightened on her narrow hips. “Stay with me,” he whispered. “Gently, sweetheart. So…gently. Take me. Take all of me, Meredith.” Cy slowly deepened the tender movement with his hands as he pulled her closer each time.

“It will…hurt you,” she managed, her last sane thought of his safety.

“If this is pain,” he said through a building wave of sensation, “let me die of it, then!”

She gasped and tears began to shimmer in her eyes as the slow spiral to satisfaction began. She stiffened helplessly, oblivious to everything except what he was giving her. The tenderness was terrible, the ecstasy unbelievable. Nothing they’d ever shared was like this. She hadn’t dreamed that two people could join so completely, so that bodies and minds and souls all seemed to merge in one colorful maelstrom of perfection.

“Let it go, my darling,” he whispered as her face began to blur, sweat beading on his forehead, his muscles straining as his hands clenched and his powerful body began to jerk. “Let it go. It’s all right, it’s all right, Meredith, it’s all right!”

She moaned in anguish and gave in to it. After that, reality blurred into regions of unexplored savage fulfillment. She heard him cry out, but she was beyond anything except pleasure as her own body began to convulse in mindless ecstasy.

Her nails were hurting him. She knew they were. She forced herself to release them from their stranglehold on his shoulders. She was trembling all over. She couldn’t even breathe without gasping. Her body was totally without control.

“Cy?” Her eyes opened. Her head was lying beside his on the pillow, her hair damp with sweat, as was his. His body was shivering and his eyes were still closed, his thick lashes against pale cheeks. “Oh, Cy…are you all right?” she asked in anguish.

His eyes began to open, slowly. They were almost black, but it wasn’t pain that dilated the pupils or caused that slow, tender smile that tugged at his swollen mouth. “Yes,” he said, his voice drowsy with exhausted pleasure. “Are you?”

“I’m…fine,” she said huskily.

His lean hand traced her face, lingering on her soft mouth, slightly bruised from his kisses. “Only fine?” he asked.

She began to color, her cheeks and then the rest of her. Shyly she averted her eyes to the hard pulse in his throat. “I can’t find the words.”

“Neither can I.” He brushed his mouth against her eyes. “This is what love should be, Meredith,” he said softly. “This incredible oneness. What we just did was more than a little casual sex. It was a total giving, and taking.”

“I know. It…frightened me.”

His hand tangled in her hair and brought her face to lie in the curve of his throat. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Not ever again. We belong to each other so completely now that there can’t be anyone else for either of us. Not for the rest of our lives.”

Her heart almost stopped beating. She burrowed closer, careful not to jar him any more than necessary. He was hinting at total commitment, but she was afraid to trust it. He’d been without a woman for a long time, and she’d satisfied him. If it was more than that, it would be everything she could ever want. But she was uncertain of him.

He felt her hesitation, but he only smiled. He could have her, now. It would take time, but she’d given herself completely, without reservations. She was his. He felt the joy of it all the way to his soul. He drew her even closer with a triumphant laugh.

“Is your back really all right?” she asked, trying not to react to his laughter because she was afraid that it was mockery.

“My back is fine. I didn’t damage it. I told you we could make love, if we went about it the right way.” He drew back, his soft eyes searching his. “It was what I promised you, too.” He drew a finger under her eyelids and it came away wet. “You cried from the pleasure.”

“Yes.” She couldn’t look away. Her body throbbed from the pleasure of such a tender encounter. She drew in an unsteady breath. “It was…never like that.”

“I know.” He looked down at her body, his own desire kindling again. He laughed with self-mockery. “My God. Even after that, it’s still hungry.”

She smiled shyly. “It always was.”

“Not like this.” He searched her eyes. “It isn’t the same hunger. Before, it was for physical satisfaction alone.”

“And now?” she asked, her voice hesitant.

He placed a hard thumb against her soft lips and caressed them. “Now,” he said huskily, “it’s for something that I don’t think I can even express in words.” He held her eyes. “I didn’t pull away, at the last,” he whispered. “I couldn’t. I’m sorry. I meant what I said before—I didn’t deliberately plan to make you pregnant without giving you a choice.”

She hesitated. Her eyes lifted to his. “Cy…if a baby comes from this, I…I…”

His heart began to pound. “You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

“No,” she said breathlessly.

“Neither would I,” he replied just as breathlessly. His eyes were fierce and unblinking. “Because I’ve never been able to give myself completely before, even to you. But this was two halves joining to make a whole. This was everything physical love should be.”

She buried her face against his broad chest, her lips brushing through the thick, damp hair to his dark skin. “I thought it was only physical with you.”

“If you still think it, after what we just shared, I’ll jump off the damned roof.”

She smiled against his skin. “You really do care, don’t you?”

His heart leapt under her mouth. “I care. It took long enough for you to realize it.”

“I’m not the only one. You never thought I was capable of it.”

“Now I do. You proved it to me when you sat up with me, night after night. I stayed alive because of you. Maybe I always have.”

She nuzzled closer. “I stayed alive because of you,” she replied.

“Marry me.”

She wanted to. More than anything. But there was still the matter of the proxies, of her takeover plans, of Don’s treachery.

“It’s the corporation, isn’t it?” he asked, irritated when she didn’t agree immediately. He hated thinking her job meant more than he did. Well, he had the advantage now. He laid a heavy hand on her belly and moved back so that he could smile down at her. “All right, do what you have to, but make it quick. I don’t want you walking down the aisle to me in maternity clothes.”

“It was just the once,” she said, hesitating.

The smile grew wider. “How long did it take you to get pregnant with Blake? If I’m counting right, it was the first time we made love.”

“I might be less fertile now,” she muttered.

“You might not be.” He smoothed back her hair, and the smile faded. “You’ve got some hard choices to make. You can’t live in Chicago while you’re pregnant with your second child. I want you with me. I want to watch you grow big. I want to sleep beside you, and feel the baby kick. I want all the things I didn’t have when you were carrying Blake.”

She sighed, because she wanted that, too. She smiled at him. “Give me a few weeks.”

He nodded. He was too close to risk losing her now. She loved him. He could afford to give her enough rope. If she wanted a fight for control of the company, she could have it. It wasn’t too soon to show her that he was always going to have the upper hand in business, if nowhere else.

She saw that grin and understood it. He thought she was going to be a pushover. But, then, he’d only seen her in action once. He had some lessons coming.

It disturbed her to think of beating him, because he had the usual masculine pride and ego. But he was enough of a man not to feel overly threatened by her and to accept defeat gracefully if he had to.

She couldn’t give him the proxies, because Don was behind them. It was important to her to show her brother-in-law that she wasn’t a figurehead, that she’d earned the position Henry had willed her. Her ego demanded it. Anger mingled with the need to come out on top. She’d trusted Don and he’d betrayed her. No way was he getting away with that!

After she regained control of her division, she could retire gracefully and give Cy those children he wanted. Surely Harden Properties was big enough to allow her a job if she wanted it. But in the meantime she could have the luxury of enough time to watch Blake grow to young manhood, to raise the child she might be carrying. Business was well and good, if it was all you had. But a child was a precious trust. He deserved enough of his mother’s time to give him a good start in life. Not that he didn’t need his father. She was impressed with the way Cy reacted to Blake, with the time he spent with him. It was going to be a good life, now that she was finally sure of his feelings, secure in them. But she wasn’t going to hand him everything on a platter.

“I have to go,” she whispered, reluctant to leave his arms.

“Do you?” he asked drowsily. “Why?”

“Because when Mr. Smith gets back from taking Blake to school, he might come along to check up on you, or your mother might decide to have a little chat with you.”

He tilted his head with a rueful smile. “I suppose that’s inevitable, isn’t it?”

“You won’t really mind, will you?” she asked gently, and he smiled. “Your mother isn’t a bad woman. She had a lot of justification for her actions.”

“Is this really you, singing my mother’s praises?” he asked with dry humor.

“It really is. It’s going to hurt her to have to tell you the truth, because she doesn’t know I’ve already told you. You’re doing the same thing to her that I tried to do to you. But I had reasons that you didn’t know about. The same is true of Myrna.”

“I suppose so.” He sighed, cradling her close. “Reality keeps getting in the way of my dreams.”

“Mine, too.” She kissed his hard cheek and searched his eyes, awed by the open warmth in them, the softness. She leaned close and kissed him with breathless tenderness.

He returned the soft pressure. “Dream of me tonight, when you go to sleep.”

“I wish I could sleep with you,” she said.

“Come to me when the rest of them have gone to bed,” he whispered. “I’ll love you again.”

She swallowed hard. “I can’t. Darling, I can’t. I won’t put you at risk again. If anything happened to you now, I couldn’t bear it.”

Her concern made him feel warm all over. He smiled wryly. “All right. I’ll settle for stolen kisses and fantasy for a while.”

“Once you’re completely well, I’ll make you glad you waited,” she promised.

He whistled softly. “I don’t know if I can handle all this excitement.”

She grinned. “Oh, you’ll manage, I think.”

She got up and dressed in the track suit, with his quiet, hungry eyes on her. She tugged on her sneakers and took him his pajamas and robe. “Want me to help you into them?” she teased.

“Only if you want me to help you back out of those,” he returned with a slow smile. “Get out of here.”

“I get it. Now that you’ve had your wicked way with me, I’m persona non grata, is that it?” she murmured with mock anger.

His eyes slid down her body and back up. “Never that,” he said dryly. “Feed me. A man gets hungry when he has to exert so much energy, and all I had was coffee for breakfast.”

She laughed with pure delight. “Does he really? What do you want?”

“Dr. Bryner said lots of protein makes better muscles.” His eyes teased hers. “Bring me a steak. I have to get stronger fast.”

She flushed. “In that case, I’ll see about a side of beef,” she promised. “Now get some rest.”

“Want me to call Dr. Bryner and ask him if making love qualifies as part of my therapy?”

“Better not,” she mused, opening the door. “He might think you had evil intentions toward Mr. Smith.”

“Damn you…!” He flung a pillow after her, laughing uproariously.

She met Mr. Smith coming down the hall and had to stifle a grin at the thought of Cy making eyes at the burly exmerc—a ladies’ man if ever there was one.

He raised both eyebrows. “Guerrilla warfare?”

“Only a pillow fight,” she said with a straight face.

He grinned to himself as he went on to Cy’s room. If they were able to laugh together, things were definitely on the mend.