Dream's End by Diana Palmer

wondered what it would have been like if she’d relaxed against his hard body and let him teach her how it could be between a man and a woman. But playing tutor to an inexperienced girl wasn’t in Curry’s line, and pleasuring her had been the last thing on his mind. He had Amanda for pleasure, and Eleanor, temporarily, for business.
    The only thing that didn’t make sense was why he’d chosen that particular way to get back at her. Curry wasn’t the kind of man to experiment, or amuse himself with an unsophisticated woman. And it wasn’t his usual method of revenge, either. But Eleanor had never fought with him until the past few days. She’d always given in with a smile and gone along withwhatever ruthless plan he devised with that brilliant, innovative mind of his. Now, things were different. She was fighting back, and he didn’t like it, and he was using the only weapons he had.
    She turned her face into the pillow, feeling its coolness drain some of the heat out of her face. Why couldn’t she have fallen in love with Jim Black? He was so much more her type; gentle and kind and caring. Not at all like Curry. Curry would burn a woman alive and leave her in ashes. It was his nature. And now, more than ever, she prayed that the last days of her employment would go quickly, before he had a chance to wound her even more.
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    He was already out on the ranch when she finished breakfast and went to work the next morning. It was as if he couldn’t face her—a ridiculous thought which she promptly dismissed. Curry never backed away from a confrontation of any kind, and he wouldn’t be the least bit embarrassed or self-conscious about what he’d done last night. Before he was through, he’d even find a way to make it look as if she’d tempted him to do it.
    Amanda came by unexpectedly at lunch time, looking for Curry.
    â€œHe promised to drive me into Houston today.” The model pouted when Eleanor said she hadn’t heard from her boss. “I’d been looking forward to lunch in a nice, quiet restaurant.”
    â€œBessie never minds setting another place, you know,” Eleanor said with kindness in her voice as she smiled at Amanda.
    Amanda smiled back, her eyes puzzled at the change in Curry’s secretary. “You look so different,” she said involuntarily. “Younger, more alive. Is Curry right, are you interested in Jim Black?”
    Eleanor shifted uncomfortably. “He’s a very nice man,” she admitted. “And a lot of fun to be with.”
    â€œA lot older than you, though,” Amanda probed.
    â€œHe’s only thirty-four,” she reminded the redhead. “A year younger than Curry Matherson.”
    Amanda frowned. “You never call him Curry, do you? It’s always his full name, or Mr. Matherson.”
    She shrugged with a smile. “He’s my boss. I’d feel terribly uncomfortable calling him by his first name.”
    Amanda shook her head. “How you could work with him year after year and keep it strictly business is beyond me,” Amanda said as she perched herself on the edge of Curry’s desk and lit a cigarette with long, tapered fingers. “Or is that why you wore that awful disguise, to keep things businesslike?”
    That rankled, but Eleanor let it pass. “My upbringing didn’t allow for frivolity of any kind,” she said. “But when Jim asked me to dress up for him…”
    Amanda smiled with what looked like relief. “You couldn’t resist, I suppose.”She laughed. “Curry said that was you with Jim the night we were in the club. How awful for you to have to sit there and hear what Curry said about you.”
    â€œIt was…pretty awful,” she agreed quietly. “Thanks for defending me, anyway.”
    â€œMy pleasure, men can be such beasts. Is that,” she probed further, “why you gave him