Tall Dark and Cajun by Sandra Hill

Author:Sandra Hill [Sandra Hill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Cajuns
ISBN: 0446612944
Google: EU6OrbAmrBQC
Amazon: B001AHS8PG
Barnesnoble: B001AHS8PG
Goodreads: 680231
Publisher: Warner
Published: 2003-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Men and the clueless hall of fame

Rachel stayed burrowed in her loft bed-cocoon until noon, trying to sleep, or not think. Neither worked.

All she could think was, It’s over.

Finally, her grandmother launched into a campaign to shame her into coming downstairs. After climbing the steps on her arthritic knees, huffing and puffing loud enough to wake the dead, Granny leaned over her and asked, “You sick, girl?”

“No.”

“Then get your be-hind out of that bed and stop feelin’ sorry fer yerself.”

“I’m not feeling sorry for myself.”

“Oh, yes, you are, and it’s gonna stop now. Yer a Fortier. We Fortier women are strong. We doan let our men tromp all over us, nosirree.”

It’s over. “No man—nobody—tromped all over me.”

“Hah! That Remy LeDeux did, I’ll wager. Beau sez you were a sorry case when he picked you up last night in Houma. Cryin’ and a-shakin’ like it was the end of the world. I tol’ you not to mess with them LeDeuxs. Man trouble, sure as shootin’.”

It’s over. “What makes you think I have man trouble?”

Granny gave her a look that pretty much said she was a brainless twit if she tried to convince her otherwise. “So, what did the varmint do? He dint hit you, did he? Iffen he did, I’ll cut his worthless heart out with my paring knife, I will.”

“No, he didn’t hit me. For heaven’s sake!”

“What did he do then?”

“It’s not what he did, it’s what he said.”

“What?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Her grandmother threw her hands up in the air with exasperation. “How come you smell like coconut?”

Oh, geesh! Still?

“It must be sunscreen.”

“In bed?”

Holy moly! Talk about persistence! “Granny, leave me alone. I’ll be down in a minute.”

“Get out of bed.”

“Oh, all right,” she grumbled.

As she slid out of bed, her silk nighty rode up practically to her crotch and the straps slipped down to her breasts.

Her grandmother exclaimed, “For the love of Mary! What have you been doing with that man? ’Pears as if you been wrestlin’ with a bear.”

Rachel looked down, afraid of what she would see. Then, she wished she could sink back under the feather tick.

There were whisker burns all over her chest.

A bite mark stood out on her inner thigh.

The nail polish had been sucked off of three of her toes.

Fingerprints marked Rachel’s outer thighs where Remy had grabbed her legs and lifted them high. Good thing her grandmother didn’t know that.

“Tsk-tsk-tsk,” Granny said, staring at those very prints.

Yep, she knew.

“This is worser’n I thought,” Granny said. “Me, I never took you fer that kind of girl.”

“I love him, Granny—or I thought I did.” But, damn, damn, damn! It’s over.

“Love doan make the chitlins fry, and it sure doan justify sinnin’.”

Rachel opened her mouth to argue that times were different and it was not immoral to engage in sex with a man to whom a woman was committed. But then she stopped herself. There had never been any commitment between her and Remy, even if she had thought they were leading up to that.

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