The older man rose and began to clear the table, waving her away when she rose and stacked the remaining dishes.
Charley turned to take the dishes from her, and once again shooed her away. “You are my guest,” he said firmly.
Her mother’s strictures about politeness didn’t always apply when she was immersed in foreign cultures. Delaney had learned over the years it was far more civil to follow her host’s wishes than to tussle over sharing the chores, despite the manners Sabrina Carson had drilled into her three children.
Wandering into the main area, Delaney studied the rugs and wall hangings, presumably done by local weavers. Beneath one was an eight-by-ten picture of Charley with a young boy that she’d noticed earlier.
“My great-grandson, Jonny,” Charley said, coming into the room and noting her interest. His voice was filled with pride, and something else, something she couldn’t quite identify. “He looks much like Joseph at that age, although I don’t remember my grandson getting into quite as much mischief.”
Shock whipped through her. Joe Youngblood was a father? Maybe even married?
Speechless, Delaney stared at the picture again. But try as she might, she couldn’t imagine Joe as a doting father. Laughing with his small son. Playing games. Tucking him into bed.
The mental image widened to include a nameless, faceless woman. A wife. She hauled in a breath, feeling a little nauseated. She’d assumed Joe was single, because he hadn’t said otherwise. But she knew some men wouldn’t refrain from taking any willing woman that came across their path, married or not.
And she’d all but hurtled herself into his arms.
Wincing inwardly, she managed, “He has your eyes.”
“Many have said so.” It was impossible to miss the satisfaction in Charley’s voice as he came to her side and picked up the picture. “When he’s in the room, he fills it with light. Small boys are all energy, you know.”
What Delaney knew about children wouldn’t fill a teacup. She had more pressing concerns at the moment. “I didn’t realize your grandson was married.”
“I’m not.”
She froze at the sound of that familiar voice, for just an instant. Then she turned, tucking the tips of her fingers in the back pockets of her jeans, and surveyed the man she’d sworn she wouldn’t react to again. “Maybe you should wear a little bell around your neck. That way your silent entrances won’t endanger people with cardiac arrest.”
Joe shut the door behind him, his gaze traveling to the man standing beside her. “Grandfather.”
“Joseph.” Charley replaced the picture while Delaney watched the two of them closely. Their polite tones belied the palpable undercurrents eddying between them. “I heard about Arnie. Is he all right?”
“I just saw him. He’s already bullying the nurses about his release. He could be back on the job in a few days.” Joe walked into the center of the room and immediately shrank it with his presence. The realization had Delaney’s earlier vow evaporating. A woman would have to be dead not to respond to this man.
With both Youngblood men in the same room it occurred to her again how little they resembled each other. Joe was close to six foot, with finer, sharper features than the older man. His nose was narrow and straight, the thick dark hair she’d had her fingers twisted in last night was worn short. And while Charley emanated a quiet dignity that immediately commanded respect, Joe radiated a subtle menace that induced wariness. As well as a raw sexuality that gripped a woman by the throat and ripped a reaction from her.
Steeling herself, she schooled her expression to polite interest. “Your grandfather is a wonderful host. He spent the afternoon explaining some of the better-known Navajo legends and then followed up his hospitality with a delicious meal.”
“You’ve been here all day?”
She wondered how a voice could be expressionless and still hold a note of censure. He must work at it.
Charley saved her from answering. “I was just going to offer to show Delaney the hogan and the sweat house.”
The idea was appealing but making a sudden decision, she moved toward Charley, not caring in the slightest that she was turning her back on Joe. “You know, it’s just occurred to me how much of your time I’ve taken up today. I get like that when I’m engrossed in something, I’m afraid.” She reached over to squeeze his hand. “Thank you for your hospitality, but I’m going to give you time to visit with…your grandson. We can continue this whenever it’s convenient for you.”
They decided on a time the next day and she collected her equipment, all the while aware of Joe’s inscrutable gaze on her. “Until tomorrow, then.”
“I’ll help you get this to your Jeep.”
Joe slung the strap of her camera case over his shoulder and picked up her tripod. Delaney clenched her jaw at his high-handedness. “That’s okay. I can get it.”
“It’s no problem.” Leaving her with the bag containing her tape recorder and notebooks, he strode to the door. Because she had no choice, she told Charley goodbye and followed.
Joe had already stowed the equipment in the backseat and started the ignition before Delaney caught up with him. She put her bag in the backseat next to the camera and slammed the door with more force than necessary. “In a hurry to get me out of here?”
“Your Jeep has been sitting in the sun all day. It’s going to take a while for the air conditioner to cool it.” His hand clamped on her arm when she would have opened the driver’s door.
A current of electricity seemed to transfer from his hand to her arm. Ignoring it, she looked pointedly at his hand, then at him. “Was there something else?”
“Yeah. I want you to be careful not to wear Charley out. He won’t say anything, but he tires easily.”
She cocked a brow. “Sure wish I’d known that before I had him running laps around the edge of the property today.”
At her sardonic tone, Joe’s words grew clipped. “He had triple bypass surgery three months ago. He’s still recovering. Keep that in mind.”
Concern filled her. “He didn’t mention it.”
“He wouldn’t. So I am.”
Silence stretched, their gazes locked. There was no sign of the lover from last night who had pounded himself into her with a fierce need that had matched her own. She swallowed, the memory turning her knees weak. Deliberately stiffening them, she said, “We weren’t discussing you, you know. When you came in. I was just surprised when your grandfather said the boy was yours. At first I thought…I was afraid…”
“You thought I’d screwed around on my wife with you.”
Though she knew his words were deliberately chosen to maximize her discomfort, she didn’t look away. “I don’t cheat,” she said simply. “And I don’t sleep with men who do. But I didn’t ask you before, and I’m finding it a little hard to forgive myself for not making sure first.”
Although his expression didn’t alter, something in it seemed to ease infinitesimally. “I’m divorced, but not because I ever cheated on my wife.”
She drew in a breath, then barreled on. “Last night was…” A colossal error in judgment. Amazing. Fantastic. Fraught with complications. “Well, it shouldn’t have happened.” It was difficult to think while pinned by that unwavering stare. She strove for a flippant tone, thought she managed it well enough. “If you’re worrying that I’m going to try to throw all sorts of strings on you, don’t be. It was a onetime thing. You had the good fortune to be seduced by a desperate woman but not one who’s interested in a repeat.”
“Don’t kid yourself.” There was a light in his eyes, a dangerous burn. His grip on her arm had loosened, but his thumb skated over the veins in her wrist, making the skin there tingle. “You didn’t take me anywhere I didn’t want to go. Did it feel like you were alone in that bed? Or against that wall? I was inside you because that’s what I wanted. Not because you gave me permission or because I asked for it. And when I want that again-when we both do-I won’t need to ask permission then, either.”