Magnolia by Diana Palmer Page A

fault. I never held a gun to you to make you touch me. And I don’t need your pity, either, while we’re on the subject.” She was seething with humiliation. Her eyes sparked with temper. “I’m not dying for your kisses, and I won’t beg for them!”
    He recognized the hurt under the words. She was more vulnerable than any woman he’d ever known, but she was fiercely proud and didn’t like people to see her weaknesses. He understood that feeling.
    â€œIt was a moment out of time,” he said gently. He felt protective of her. “Don’t agonize over what happened.”
    Nervous, she wrapped and unwrapped the underskirt in her hands.
    â€œAren’t you hungry?” he asked after a pause. “I hardly had time for lunch. Mrs. Dobbs made you a cherry pie.”
    â€œI like it.”
    He smiled indulgently. “I know.”
    She averted her gaze and put the skirt down. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to eat something.” She looked in the mirror and grimaced at the way his hands had disarranged her hair into wild tangles, the way his lips had made hers swollen. She groaned in sweet memory.
    â€œClaire, we’re married,” he emphasized, watching her carefully bundle her hair. “People expect us to act like it occasionally.”
    She lowered her gaze. “You don’t want to be married to me. You said so.”
    â€œI also said that we might as well make the best of it,” he added. “A few kisses won’t make you pregnant,” he teased wickedly.
    â€œJohn!”
    He enjoyed her scarlet blush. He enjoyed so much about her. His eyes glittered with sudden intentness as he watched her complete her toilette. He’d never given much thought to her place in his life. He’d been far too busy mourning Diane. But now, as he looked at Claire, he felt the first stirrings of pride in possession. She belonged to him. She was innocent and kind and mischievous, and she loved him. There had never been a man, because she wanted only him. It went to his head like wine. Diane had flirted, withdrawnfrom him, in a game of love. Claire had no knowledge of such games. She was completely honest and open with him, devoid of coquetry. How very different she was from the sleek, experienced women who had walked through his life. For a moment, he wondered how it might have been if he and Diane had never met, and he could have come to Claire heartwhole. Perhaps he would have fallen in love with her.
    As it was, he felt a sudden, fierce attraction to Claire—and possessive and protective of her. As he stared down at her flushed, dear face, he wondered why he’d never noticed that little dimple in her chin, or the way her mouth curved so sweetly. Her figure was all a man could ask for, nicely rounded—even if a bit on the thin side. She wasn’t beautiful, but she had beautiful qualities.
    He fought a stirring of desire for her that rose like a tide in his blood. How unexpected, to feel that for his own wife. What might happen if he gave in to it fully?
    There was Diane, though. He turned away from Claire, more confused than ever.

5
    CLAIRE LEARNED NEW THINGS ABOUT JOHN EVERY day. He was a studious, quiet man for the most part. He liked to play chess and he loved railroads and trains. Often when he was home, she found him standing on the balcony watching the trains go slowly down the tracks toward the freight yards. She wondered if he’d ever entertained dreams, as many boys did, of becoming an engineer. But he didn’t talk to her of his past at all.
    He did let things slip from time to time that he must have learned during his military career. He knew which medals were which, and how to distinguish one uniform from another. He knew quite a lot about military history, reading a great deal, she noted, about strategy and tactics. And he seemed to relish perusal of his collection of biographies about great military leaders.
    He was