Man in Black

Chapter 1-2

Melissa relaxed, lulled by the easy camaraderie that lapped around and enfolded her. Suddenly, she felt a prickling between her shoulder blades. It continued until she couldn’t stand it another moment. She turned and looked over her shoulder.

Her man in black stood in a corner, leaning against the rough, burnt-adobe wall. Despite his indolent pose, he had the latent energy of a coiled rattlesnake. Although he no longer wore an obvious weapon, Melissa didn’t doubt he could handle any threat that might arise. Again a fleeting image, too vague to be a memory, teased her mind, an image she could not hold long enough to analyze.

As she watched, his gaze idly swept the room. He appeared a totally disinterested spectator. Finally, his glance settled briefly on Melissa and he gave a nod of acknowledgment so slight it was barely perceptible. He still did not look ordinary. And he still wore black—western-cut trousers and a pearl-snapped shirt with the sleeves rolled back a couple of turns over corded brown forearms. The fit and simplicity of his clothing displayed every line of his lean masculine body.

Embarrassed when he caught her staring, Melissa quickly turned back to her plate. She waited for a lull in Jo and Charlie’s conversation. Then, affecting as much unconcern as she could, she asked, “Who’s the man in black, the one who played the sheriff?”

When Charlie met her gaze, his smile seemed a bit knowing. “Oh, that’s Lawton Kane. He’s got a little ranch out by the Whetstone Hills. Used to be an Army Ranger, Special Forces or something, I hear. He’s been a member of the group quite a while but he doesn’t mix much. And he never has anything to do with the group…er…the guests.”

Charlie turned to give Jo an exaggerated wink. “Most of us find that the best fringe benefit.” Looking back to Melissa, he continued. “I don’t know anyone who’s got ol’ Lawton figured out, but I’d say you’d be wasting your time if you were planning any moves on him. That’s one wary, independent guy. A real lone wolf.”

“Oh, no,” Melissa demurred quickly. “I’m really not interested. Just curious. He’s quite striking.”

Although Charlie’s assessment differed little from her guesses, Melissa felt a vague sense of loss. How could she ever approach a man like that? At least she knew his name now, but admitting to herself that she would like to approach him almost unnerved her. This inexplicable attraction had her thoroughly rattled.

After everyone finished eating, they all pitched in to clear things away, folding most of the tables. Someone brought out a portable stereo and started a tape of lively western music. Soon several couples rose to dance. Melissa found herself sitting alone when Jo and Charlie took to the floor. She saw Jo had become adept at western swing and Charlie made an excellent partner.

Since several other couples displayed equal skill, Melissa watched in fascination. The dancers made the complex steps look so easy. Although she could waltz and foxtrot acceptably, courtesy of Ms. Fenster’s dance academy, these western steps were beyond her. Before the tape ended, almost everyone but Melissa had joined the dancers.

As soon as the first tape stopped, someone started another, a mixture of golden oldies just made for slow dancing. Melissa hummed along with the familiar tunes, tapping her foot and swaying in her seat.

Suddenly, although sitting on the sidelines was nothing new to her, simply absorbing the friendly atmosphere was not enough. Her youthful shyness had often been mistaken for snobbery and coldness, while years spent around adults rather than other young people further distanced her from her contemporaries. She’d gradually come to accept the sidelines as her natural place, to believe she would never fit in, but the hurt never went away.

She turned and looked up to see Lawton still standing, having merely changed corners of the room. He held his arms folded across his chest in a pose almost defiant. Why was he so aloof, so alone? An inexplicable need stirred within her. She knew how loneliness felt, knew the pain that came of not belonging. Lawton might look as if he didn’t mind, but surely he must. Everyone else was dancing. Why not them?

Rebellion boiled through her. She rose from the chair. I’m not going to put up with it! I don’t have to any more. Without pausing to think, Melissa picked her way around the room to him. Not until she stopped directly in front of him did he acknowledge her. A part of her drew back then, completely appalled at her uncharacteristically bold action.

This was no dancing class exercise, forcing a sweaty palmed, unwilling boy to be her partner. She clenched her hands to still their tremor, and her throat spasmed on the words, which emerged in a stammering squeak.

“W-w-would you like to dance? I-I’m not terribly good, but just watching isn’t much fun, so if you would…?”

He looked down at her quizzically; one sun-faded sandy eyebrow lifting as startled disbelief crossed his face. The ghost of a smile played across his lips, twitching the metal-toned brush of his moustache. From behind the barrier of his folded arms, he silently appraised her. For a long moment, he did not reply.

Melissa caught her breath, awaiting his rejection. She could read little in his face or the eyes gone suddenly opaque beyond a degree of detached amusement, but she felt sure he would refuse.

“Neither am I,” Lawton responded finally, “but I guess we can try.”

His low voice had a slight burr or rasp, a husky quality that reminded her of the velvety scrape of a cat’s tongue on her skin. It made even the most casual words seem intimate, personal. Melissa felt her face heat as she went dizzy with surprise. Shock and delight briefly paralyzed her. He had actually agreed!

With almost military precision, Lawton turned, moving away from the wall to face her. He circled her waist with a lean, hard arm, and swung into the rhythm of the music.

Perhaps, strictly speaking, he wasn’t a good dancer. Though supple and light in his movements, he lacked the joy and spontaneity that should be an inherent part of dancing. Subtle, coiled tension radiated from him and his characteristic wariness did not lessen. Melissa sensed him looking past her, over her head, as they danced and she realized he never faced away from the door.

At five-foot-five, Melissa thought herself of average height, but she could not see over Lawton’s shoulder. Though lean, he was a big man. He held her firmly but gently, not embarrassingly tight but close enough she could feel the subtle shifting of his body as they moved. He led easily, moving without apparent effort. Although she suspected his heart was not in it, dancing with him still seemed marvelous.

Beneath her hand, his shoulder felt solid, a hint of bone beneath the muscled surface. The hand clasping hers also felt strong and hard, though his grasp was gentle. Although his size and strength made Melissa feel small and fragile, his embrace seemed secure and protective.

But did she want more power, strength, and ruthlessness? Those traits were an unwelcome reminder of her father and the fact she had never measured up to his standards. She’d always dreamed of finding a gentle and sensitive man, one who would not make her feel inadequate. In contrast, she could easily imagine Lawton as a man with a past full of terrible deeds and grim secrets like the stern lawman he had portrayed so convincingly. He was not the sort of man she should even dream of getting involved with.

Wait! What a sudden and alarming turn of thought. Who said anything about getting involved? We’re just dancing, casually dancing. He doesn’t even know my name, and I only know his ‘cause I asked.

The shock of her wayward notions made her lose the rhythm and she stumbled. Lawton’s powerful arm tightened slightly around her waist and he made the next few steps with added emphasis until she picked up the beat again. She didn’t dare look up for fear he’d read her jumbled thoughts. Caught in a closeness too charged for small talk, neither of them spoke.

Finally, Melissa forced herself to stop worrying. This moment was too rare to waste. She had never experienced a sensation half as wonderful as floating in the supporting clasp of Lawton’s embrace. She relaxed, feeling her body grow limber and supple as she surrendered to the potent magic.

When her head seemed to become too heavy for her neck, she let it droop until her cheek rested against the inky silk of his shirt. She reveled in the contrast of the cool, soft fabric with the hard, hot muscle beneath it. He smelled of cedar and saddle leather, with a hint of smoke and a subtly wild scent she could not name. Her eyes drifted shut. Let this dream last as long as it would.

The end of the music caught Melissa by surprise, bringing an abrupt return to reality. Surely they had only danced a minute or two? She felt suddenly cold and exposed when Lawton released her, though he kept her hand in his as he led her back to her chair.

He made a slight bow when he released her hand. “Thank you, Melissa. Don’t know where you got the idea you aren’t a good dancer. I found you much more than an adequate partner.” His luminous gaze touched her, imparting a depth of emotion absent from his voice and the stiff words.

“Thank you.” The silver intensity of his eyes momentarily wiped her mind clear of coherent thought. Suddenly she realized he had called her by name. “Wait, how did you know my name?”

“I listen a lot.” He turned away abruptly, cutting off any further conversation.

Melissa sighed as she sank onto her chair. She turned to face Jo and Charlie’s blatant amazement. Half the people in the room regarded her with similar expressions, all reflecting unfeigned astonishment.

“How did you manage that?” Charlie blurted.

“I couldn’t believe my eyes,” Jo echoed. “Everybody says Lawton doesn’t ever have anything to do with the grou—I mean the guests, but he danced with you for ten minutes!”

Under this scrutiny, Melissa went sick with embarrassment. “I wanted to dance and there wasn’t anyone else, so I asked and he accepted. Is that so amazing?”

She tried without success to screen out the head shaking and murmured exclamations of, “If that don’t beat all,” and, “How about that?” Finally, after most of the people went back to dancing, she darted a glance around the room. Was Lawton also being grilled?

This time no black clad figure could be seen. The plastic glass he’d used still sat on the ledge where he had left it, but he was gone. The adrenaline rush faded, allowing tension to slip into weariness. Pain pounded through her head. Jo seemed to be having a great time, but Melissa reluctantly broke in.

“Jo, aren’t you about ready to start home?”

Jo looked at Melissa quickly, a slight frown tightening her features. “Gee, it is pretty late, isn’t it? We’ve made quite a day of it.” She turned to Charlie. “Do you mind?”

“Not a bit. The party will be breaking up soon, anyway. Most of us have to work tomorrow.”

Charlie walked them up the street to the lot where Jo had parked. He held Jo’s door as she climbed behind the wheel. “I sure hope you enjoyed this evening as much as I did. I’d really like to see you ladies come back.”