Scarlet Woman. Gwynne Forster

of all evil. Let them know that they will burn in hell. And brothers and sisters, it won’t be a little blister, and there won’t be any salve to put on it….”

      Tuning him out, all she heard was the drone of his voice. Getting up and leaving wasn’t an option, so she sat there and let herself think of pleasant things. Her life with Prescott and the peace and contentment she’d known with him. But as she reminisced, it came to her forcefully that Prescott had treated her as if she were a child, taking care of her material needs, giving her an allowance, never broaching the subject of sex—not that she’d have welcomed it. She’d gone from one father to another one, and neither had prepared her for her encounters with Blake Hunter. A tough man with a soft core, she surmised, and a masculine persona that fired her up and awakened the womanliness in her. She hadn’t known the meaning of the word lust until she first looked into his eyes and he stared at her until her nipples tightened and her blood raced as if she were in a marathon.

      She wanted to close her eyes and think about him, but didn’t dare for fear her father would think she slept during his sermon. At last the choir sang the closing hymn, and she rushed out of the church.

      “Didn’t Reverend Jones really preach today? Bless the Lord,” one of the sisters said to her.

      No way was that woman going to make her concur with her father’s accusations. “My father speaks his mind,” she told the startled woman and brushed past her.

      With her heart lodged in her throat, she knocked on Blake’s office door the next afternoon at three-thirty. He opened the door, smiled, and her pulse kicked into overdrive.

      “Hi.”

      Not hello, but hi. She looked up at him and tried to smile back, but she suspected she hadn’t succeeded. What had caused this about-face?

      “Hello. Uh…hi.”

      If he noticed her lack of composure, he didn’t let on. “I wish you’d brought some fries or something. I didn’t get any lunch. Been preparing for a trial tomorrow morning.”

      “I could go get some,” she said, wondering at his turn of mind.

      His fingers touched her elbow, and he walked with her to his desk. “No need for that. I’ll order something by phone. What would you like? I’m having French fries and ginger ale.”

      “You haven’t eaten since breakfast, and you’re ordering French fries?”

      A sheepish expression flashed across his face. “Come to think of it, all I had for breakfast was a glass of V-8 juice.”

      She shook her head in wonder. “How can you look the way you do if you don’t eat properly?”

      His eyebrows went up, and she knew she’d said the wrong thing.

      “How do I…Never mind. Most days I eat bran flakes and a banana. That better?”

      “Decidedly,” she said and put forth a lot of effort to prevent his seeing how relieved she was that he hadn’t finished that sentence. When he’d eaten the French fries, he opened both bottles of ginger ale, wrapped a napkin around one, and handed it to her.

      “Ready?”

      She nodded. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

      A grin converted his whole face into a thing of beauty. She’d better concentrate on that board of directors, or anything other than him that would occupy her mind. The man was safer in a less jovial mood.

      “Let’s try Alice Pride first,” Blake suggested. “She craves social status, so she ought to be a shoe-in.”

      And indeed she was. “I’m just so glad to do some good for my town,” Alice said. “Just let me know when you’re calling the first meeting. I’ll be there.”

      And so it went for the first two calls. Then Melinda dialed Luther Williams and told him the purpose of her call.

      “What?” she asked, and her face must have mirrored her horror at Luther Williams’s indictment of her, because Blake snatched the phone.

      “This is Blake Hunter. We’re working on setting up this foundation according to Rodgers’s will. What’s the problem, Luther?”

      “Well…I…You know what everybody says. I mean, you don’t expect me to join in with a kept woman to—”

      “What the hell are you talking about, man? This foundation was Prescott Rodgers’s bequest. And what do you mean by trashing a woman’s reputation on the basis of gossip? That’s slander.”

      Melinda put the list on the desk, picked up her pocketbook that she’d placed on the floor, and started for the door.

      “Oh, no, you don’t,” he called after her and slammed the receiver into its cradle. “Is that all it takes to make you tuck your tail in and run? Is it?”

      She whirled around and slammed into him. “You don’t know what it’s…like,” she whispered, as the fire began to blaze in his eyes. The belt on his trousers touched her belly. So close. Lord, he was there, and she could have him. She closed her eyes to hide the temptation before her.

      “You’re not a coward, are you? You won’t let them beat you down. I won’t let you run. Do you hear me? Stand up to them. Show the bastards you don’t care what they say.”

      “Bu…bu…but I…I do care. I do.”

      Shivers coursed through her as he locked her to him. Startled, she looked into his fierce eyes, then dropped her gaze to his mouth and parted her lips. For a brief, poignant moment, he stared down at her. Open. Pliable. Susceptible to her. His tremors shook her, and her nerves tingled with exhilaration when she heard his hoarse groan of capitulation. Then his mouth was on her, and his tongue stabbed at her lips until she opened and, at last, had him inside of her. His big hand gripped her buttocks and she undulated wildly against him as his velvet tongue promised her ecstasy, plunging in and out of her and testing every crevice of her mouth. Strong and commanding like the man himself. He held her head while he plied her mouth with sweet loving, stroked her back, her shoulders, and her buttocks until she sucked his tongue deep into her mouth and feasted. When his hand went to her breast, she pressed it to her while his fingers twirled her turgid nipple. Hungry for all of him, she spread her legs and he rose hard and strong against her. She slumped into him and might have fallen if he hadn’t lifted her, carried her to the sofa, and sat down with her in his lap.

      For a long while, he sat there, rocking her and stroking her, soothing her with a tenderness she’d never known.

      “It wasn’t any use, was it?” he said at last.

      She knew what he meant and didn’t pretend otherwise. “Looks that way. But it shouldn’t have happened. I have enough problems as it is.”

      “I won’t argue with you about that. We have to work together on this foundation, and don’t forget, there’s one more clause.”

      “How could I forget that?” she asked, getting to her feet. “I think I’d better go now.”

      “Do you want me to…Can I drive you home? I mean…do you need me for…something?” He gasped it, as if releasing the words pained him all the way to his gut.

      She shook her head. “I drove, but thanks.”

      He walked with her to the door and stood looking down at her. Nobody had to tell her what he was thinking or what he wanted. Suddenly, his right shoulder lifted in a quick shrug, and she knew he’d won over temptation. A least one of them had sense. If he’d kissed her again, she wouldn’t have left the way she entered. That much strength she doubted she had. But what about tomorrow and the next day and the next?

      He winked at her and grinned. “Don’t worry, Melinda. There isn’t much I set myself to do that I can’t manage. See you tomorrow.”

      By the time she reached her car, her breath came in short gasps, but that didn’t explain her inability to steady her