Hawk's Way: Callen & Zach (3 page)

Stubborn pride kept Callen standing at Sam’s side. She wasn’t going to let her family talk her out of something she knew was right. Her relationship with Sam over the past three months had revealed the source of a vague discontent she had felt for years. She was thirty-two years old. She had yearned for someone to love, someone to love her. She wanted children, several of them, and she wasn’t getting any younger. And she needed a home of her own, a place where she belonged. Sam had promised to fulfill those needs.

Furthermore, Sam had been a neighbor for years. If he had really been a fortune hunter, wouldn’t he have come courting a lot sooner? He couldn’t possibly have the sinister motives for marriage that her father and brother had suggested he did.

“Let’s go on in.” Sam put a hand to the small of her back and ushered her inside the judge’s chambers. She wasn’t acquainted with the judge, nor with the secretary and bailiff he offered as witnesses.

Callen heard nothing the judge said as he began the words of the ceremony. She was too caught up in remembering her family’s accusations against Sam and her own reservations about what she was doing.

“For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health…”

He’s a fortune hunter! He’s only after your money!

Callen closed her eyes as a wave of nausea rolled over her. It was terrifying to defy her father, terrifying to ignore the warning signs that were all around her and follow her heart.

I love him.

That was the response that had silenced her father. That was the response that had silenced Zach. But was her love enough?

“Do you have a ring?” the judge asked.

Sam added a simple band of white gold to the diamond engagement ring he had given her that had belonged to his mother.

Then it was her turn. She knew how much a rancher worked with his hands. A ring that wasn’t simple would be a nuisance and likely wouldn’t be worn. So she had bought him a plain gold band. She saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes and then what looked like pleasure as she slipped it on his finger.

The ceremony was over too quickly. The judge smiled at them and said, “You may kiss the bride.”

Callen was ready for a quick peck on the lips. But Sam pulled her slowly toward him until their bodies were aligned and then lowered his mouth to claim hers. The kiss was thorough, and before he was done they were both breathing hard.

When she turned an eye back to the judge, his grin had broadened. He reached out to shake Sam’s hand. “It’s always a pleasure to see two people in love.”

Callen noticed the smile on Sam’s lips, but it never reached his eyes. Was it the mention of the word
love
that bothered him? Sam had never said the words to her,
but he had shown her in a dozen different ways that he cherished her. Besides, she thought with a rueful smile, this was no time to be having second thoughts. The deed was done. She was Mrs. Sam Longstreet.

Sam was no longer smiling by the time they reached the steps outside the courthouse door. “Do you want to drive to the house together, or follow me in your car?”

“Do you have a preference?” She wanted him to say that he couldn’t bear for her to be separated from him for a moment. She wanted to be romanced on her wedding day. Sam’s response was too practical for her peace of mind.

“We’d only have to make another trip back for your car,” he said. “Go ahead and follow me to the house.” He turned his back on her and headed for his pickup, leaving her standing alone on the courthouse steps.

Callen noticed he hadn’t called it a home.

She tried not to feel abandoned, tried to put the best possible face on the situation. But this wasn’t what she had imagined. What had happened to the romantic swain who had swept her off her feet?

Callen pursed her lips thoughtfully. If she didn’t stop seeing trouble everywhere, she was going to drive herself crazy. Things would work out. She only had to remember that she loved Sam. And he loved her, whether he said the words or not. She was married to Sam, for better or worse.

Unfortunately, when Sam carried her over the threshold of the Double L ranch house, she saw how bad
worse
could be.

Her father’s description of Sam’s place as a “ramshackle ranch” was very much on the mark, Callen realized. She had known the wood frame structure with
its tin roof was old. But she wasn’t prepared for what she found inside when Sam set her back on her feet after carrying her over the threshold.

“Well? What do you think?”

Callen searched for something nice to say. “It’s…clean.” Perhaps neat was a better word than clean. She eyed the dust that had gathered on every surface, the cobwebs in the corners. What furniture the house contained—and it was decorated Spartanly—was old and rat-bitten. There were no antiques here that had been lovingly polished to a high sheen like there were at Hawk’s Way. Just secondhand junk.

No wonder Sam hadn’t wanted to bring her into the house. There was nothing here that could be admired. Until this moment, Callen hadn’t realized how luxurious her life-style at Hawk’s Way had been, or how spoiled she had been by the comforts she had always taken for granted.

The condition of the furniture, of the house itself, suggested things had been going downhill at the Double L for far longer than the three months since E.J. had died. The place reeked of ongoing impoverishment.

Her father’s words echoed in her head.
He’s only interested in you for your money
. She shoved them back out again.

“It needs a little work,” she said with a hard-won smile. “But I’m more than willing to supply the elbow grease.” She walked around the combination parlor and office excitedly pointing out the improvements she would make.

“First thing is to buy you a new desk. Then, a sofa placed just so in front of the fireplace, a couple of leather chairs—something comfortable with an ottoman
for you—a few tables, lamps, some art for the walls, a carpet on the floor, and I guarantee you won’t recognize the place.”

“All those things cost money,” Sam said.

Her smile broadened. “I’m rich. I can afford it.”

He shook his head.

Callen felt a well of joy.
He didn’t want her money!
Her father was wrong. She was moving toward Sam when his next words stopped her.

“We’ll need that money to make back payments on the mortgage and to pay debts I’ve accumulated. I doubt there’ll be much left for frivolities like furniture and rugs.”

“What?” Callen was staring at Sam as though she had never seen him before. “I have plenty of money—”

He cut her off with a harsh oath. “It’s not enough. I have a fairly good idea of the extent of your fortune. I’m telling you, it’ll be eaten up by the cost of keeping possession of the Double L.”

“Then we’ll sell this place and—”

“No, Callen. This is my home—your home now. We’re staying come hail or high water.” In response to the shocked look on her face, he said, “Surely your father mentioned I was in financial trouble.” His mouth twisted cynically. “You must have known how bad things are. The condition of the outbuildings, the fences that needed mending, the rundown condition of the house. You couldn’t have been blind to all of it.”

“I…wasn’t…exactly.” Only she had worn blinders, refusing to see reality, lost in a fog of euphoria: a fool in love. In one respect—Sam’s need for her money—her father had been absolutely right. But she wasn’t going to cry craven and run. She loved Sam. And if he needed her money, he was welcome to it.

Callen lifted her chin. “Whatever money you need, you’re welcome to spend. Use it how you think best.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. He was astonished at Callen’s generous offer. He had expected trouble when he told her he wanted to invest her fortune in the Double L. With the marriage still unconsummated, it was a sure way of goading her to run, to save herself from the fate he had planned for her. But her brown eyes had flared with a militant light and that stubborn chin of hers had bucked up. And she had offered him everything she had.

He refused to feel guilt or remorse, even though the pull of both made the skin stretch taut across his cheekbones. She had made a free choice to be his wife. She had stayed when she saw how rough things were going to be. Well, so be it. He had committed himself. It was time to get on with his revenge.

“C
OME HERE
, C
ALLEN
.”

Callen saw the fierce desire in Sam’s eyes and felt an answering desire rise within her. Now that the moment was at hand, however, she was uncertain what to do. “It’s broad daylight,” she said with a shy smile.

“I want to see you when I make love to you for the first time,” Sam replied.

A rush of pleasure and embarrassment painted Callen’s cheeks a vivid rose. “There’s not much to see,” she murmured. Her breasts weren’t anything to shout about, and while she had a narrow waist and a decent pair of legs, she was closer to cute than pretty, closer to pretty than beautiful. It would have been easier to do this the first time in the dark.

“Callen.”

The single word was a command that compelled her to obey. She took the several steps that brought her near enough for Sam to reach out and pull her close. His arms folded around her possessively.

Callen felt safe, secure, treasured. Those weren’t the feelings she had expected and, as it turned out, weren’t the feelings she experienced moments later when Sam’s mouth came down to capture hers.

Hungry. Unbridled. Ruthless. Sam demanded total
surrender, and Callen was helpless to resist. The blood raced in her veins, sending heat and shuddering sensation throughout her body. Now Callen understood why Sam had kept his desire under control in the past. She was overwhelmed by feelings she had never imagined. His effect on her was devastating.

“Sam,” she gasped. She clung to him, breathless and almost dizzy. She was shivering and couldn’t seem to stop.

“Callen,” he breathed in her ear. It was a plea. It was a promise.

He lifted her into his arms and carried her into his bedroom. It was darker there because heavy curtains covered the windows. She clung to Sam’s shoulders as he leaned over and pulled down the covers on the bed, barely toeing off her shoes before he laid her down. She noticed the bed was made with fresh white sheets that had been tucked in with almost military precision. He had known he would bring her here. He had cared what she would think—about this, at least.

The sheets were cool, or maybe it was simply that she was so warm in contrast. He stood above her, his green eyes lit with a fierce, primitive light.

“Take off your clothes,” he said.

Callen was caught unawares. She had expected him to do that for her, had anticipated it, in fact. He stood above her, arms akimbo, legs widespread, with that devouring look on his face, and waited.

She sat up and turned her back to him before lifting her hair out of the way. “Can you get these few buttons for me?” It seemed like an eternity before she felt the brush of his hands against her nape. She felt the sweep of air as her back was exposed and a moment later the
touch of his mouth against her skin. A shiver of delight ran down her spine.

When he was nearly finished, Sam slid onto the bed behind her. His hands slipped around to cup her breasts. She felt him exhale slowly as his hands shaped and molded the small mounds.

“You feel so good.”

The sound of his voice rasped in her ear, sending another shiver through her. Her hands dropped to rest on his as she leaned her head back against his shoulder. “I’ve dreamed about this so often….”

“So have I,” he confessed. “You feel so good, so right in my hands.”

“There’s not much there,” she said with a wry smile.

“Enough. Plenty,” he said as he turned her in his arms.

She gasped as his mouth latched onto one breast through the lace. She felt the nip of his teeth and laughed breathlessly. “Maybe I ought to finish taking this off.”

He lifted his head and released her. “All right. Go ahead.”

She was suddenly shy again. The unbuttoned dress slid off her shoulders, revealing the white silk camisole she wore. She rose on her knees and shoved the dress and a half-slip down, then sat and pulled them off over her bare legs. She hadn’t worn nylons in deference to the June heat, so she was left in nothing but her silk tap pants and camisole.

She started to lower the straps of her camisole, but Sam reached out a hand to stop her. She followed his eyes downward and saw that her nipples had peaked beneath the silk. There was a damp spot near her right breast where his mouth had been. He lowered his head and suckled her through the cloth.

Callen groaned. She had never felt anything so exquisite. Her hands slid into Sam’s hair, which was thick and silky to the touch, while her head arched backward in ecstasy.

Sam took his time removing the rest of her clothing. It was difficult for Callen to lie still under his sharp gaze once he had her bare.

“You’re beautiful, Callen.”

In that moment she believed she was beautiful, despite her too small breasts and her straight black hair that refused to hold a curl and the spattering of freckles across her nose.

“I want to see you,” she said, reaching up for the first of the buttons on his shirt. She had three unbuttoned when his patience deserted him. Callen laughed as Sam tore off his shirt, yanked off his boots and socks and reached for his belt buckle. He was naked moments later, and the laugh caught in her throat.

Whatever faults Sam might have had, his body wasn’t one of them. Callen let her eyes roam from broad shoulders and muscled arms, down a chest that was furred with dark hair, past a washboard belly, to the curls that surrounded his arousal. His legs were long, his thighs sinewy and taut.

“You’re the one who’s beautiful,” she managed to say.

He smiled.

Oh, what a wonderful smile it was! His white teeth flashed, and his eyes crinkled at the corners. She felt warm all over. Then came the laugh, up from his belly, past his chest and out of his mouth, a full, rich, happy sound.

She grinned. “What’s so funny?”

“You thinking I’m beautiful.”

“But you are,” she insisted.

He snorted, a male sound of dismissal. “You’re the special one, Callen.” He sat on the bed beside her and let his callused fingertips stroke across her belly. “I can’t believe you’re mine.”

Callen felt revered, cherished. She had done the right thing marrying Sam. She hadn’t made a mistake. Sam couldn’t touch her like this, hold her in his arms, stroke her mouth with his tongue in just that way if he didn’t care for her.

He took his time loving her. His eyes constantly roamed her body, following where he touched. When he joined their bodies, making them one, he watched that, too. She had never been so aware of herself as a woman, never been so aware of the aching need to give everything she had to another human being.

Callen heard Sam’s groan of agony and pleasure in the moment he thrust inside her, felt her muscles contract to hold him there. His hands lifted her buttocks as he made sweet, sweet love to her. She touched him everywhere she could reach, returning the caresses he had so freely given her. In her ultimate joy, she grasped his hair and pulled his mouth down to join hers as they cried out in exultation.

Afterward, she lay sated in his arms, breathless, her chest heaving. Their bodies were sweat-slick in the heat, and she realized suddenly that the house wasn’t air-conditioned, that it was the breeze flowing from behind the curtains through the open windows that cooled their bodies. No wonder the curtains had been drawn, she thought. It kept out the hot sun. It was one more indication of the
worse
to go with the
better
in this marriage.

Right at this moment, Callen didn’t have any complaints. She stretched lazily and felt Sam’s hand slide down her thigh. It felt good, warm and rough against her skin. Sam was, quite simply, an incredible lover. She shouldn’t have been surprised, but she was. She hadn’t thought of him as the sort of man who dated a lot. So where had he learned to be so knowledgeable of a woman’s needs in bed?

The answer to that question was easy, once Callen thought about it, though thinking at all was difficult with Sam’s hand caressing her. A man as kind and considerate as Sam Longstreet would naturally be a good lover, because he would always be concerned about the other person’s pleasure. She decided he deserved some thanks for his thoughtfulness. So she slid her hand along his naked flank, returning the caresses he bestowed upon her. She could feel the strength, the sinew and muscle that surrounded bone. She gave a little shove, and he rolled over onto his back.

“What’s this?” he asked.

“I’m going to have my wicked way with you,” Callen answered.

“By all means.” His grin was far more wicked than anything she could have imagined doing to him. He lay still beneath her hands. Actually, not quite still. His body undulated beneath her onslaught, until he rolled her over beneath him and took up where she had left off.

They didn’t leave the bed all day. It was full dark before either of them thought of anything except the delights to be found in the other’s body. It was Sam’s stomach that finally protested with a loud growl.

“I’m hungry,” he admitted.

Callen snuggled closer. “Me, too.”

“Who’s going to get out of bed and fix supper?”

“I suppose I ought to,” Callen said with a huge yawn.

“You’re exhausted.”

Callen heard the surprise and remorse in Sam’s voice. She smiled to herself. “I hope you keep me this tired all the time,” she teased.

She felt his body relax and heard his chuckle. “I might have gone a little crazy. I just never thought—”

He cut himself off and abruptly rose so that her hair, which was caught under his shoulder, got yanked hard enough to hurt. She cried out, then heard him swear as he stubbed his toe on the bedstead.

“Are you all right?” he called. Then, “Where the hell is the lamp?”

“I suspect it’s where it’s always been.” Callen restrained a giggle as she reached out and snapped on a lamp beside the bed. She squinted her eyes until they adjusted to the light. When she could open them without pain, she saw that Sam was staring fixedly at her. She looked down and found there were small love bruises on her body where he had staked his claim. Her breasts were still flushed and rosy from their latest round of lovemaking. She quickly grappled for the sheet to cover herself.

“Don’t. I…” He swallowed hard. “I like looking at you.”

She forced herself to lie still. It was plain he wanted her again.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—his stomach chose that moment to growl again. He grabbed his jeans and stepped into them before heading for the kitchen in a hurry. “Stay where you are. I’ll get us something to eat.”

The first thing she did was jump out of bed and race for the standing oval mirror in the corner to see for herself how she looked.
Good Lord!
she thought.
That’s what he finds attractive?

Her hair was tangled beyond combing, her breasts were the same tiny size they’d always been, and she hadn’t grown any taller. But a second look revealed the dreamy glow in her dark brown eyes, the heat beneath her skin that made her complexion pink and rosy, and the puffy softness of her lips where she had been thoroughly kissed. She looked like a woman who had spent most of the day making love with a man she adored.

She heard Sam returning, and scurried back to bed. Well, why not? If the man wanted to wait on her, who was she to complain? She was sitting up in bed when he entered the room, but she had chickened out and pulled the sheet up under her arms. There was such a thing as modesty, after all. She hadn’t become a total wanton in one day. Had she? One glance at Sam’s face, and she was afraid she had. She let the sheet fall and heard him gasp. He set the tray of soup and sandwiches on a dry sink across the room and came to her without another word.

The supper he had prepared sat forgotten.

When Sam woke, he felt disoriented. It took him a moment to realize the heat he felt came from another body snuggled up close. He eased himself away from Callen—from his wife—and sat up on the edge of the bed letting his eyes become accustomed to the dark. He wondered what time it was and sought out the alarm he kept next to his bed. The digital clock told him it was barely 10:00 p.m. It seemed much later.

He felt exhausted, but at the same time more rested
than he had at any time since his father’s death. He had reason to feel relaxed. His plan for vengeance had well and truly begun. He had taken the first steps to attach his wife’s affections. Before he could take Callen away from her father, he had to be sure that if she was forced to choose, she would choose him. He had to be sure she was well and truly in love.

So he had made love to her as though she were the most precious of women. He had given her all of himself—or almost all. He hadn’t given her his heart. He didn’t love her. That would be a disaster and ruin his carefully laid plans. But he had created the illusion of love to the best of his ability.

It was only after that first incredibly powerful climax that he had realized the danger to himself. Yet he hadn’t been able to deny himself the opportunity of making love to her again. She was all satiny softness and fiery desire. He hadn’t been able to resist coming back for more. And more. He hadn’t known he could want a woman like he wanted Callen. He was going to have to be careful. He had to remember at all times that his real purpose in marrying her was to cause her father pain.

Callen stretched and her foot reached out and stroked his thigh. “Come back to bed, Sam,” she murmured.

He ought to get up and leave her now. He could feel the loose ropes binding him to her, even as he sought to bind her to himself. But he was the one in control. He could escape the noose whenever he chose, or use whatever means were necessary to cut himself free when the time came. He surrendered to the call and joined Callen in bed.

The next time he woke, it was dawn. Lately, because he couldn’t sleep at night, he had dropped into bed ex
hausted at sunrise. But he had a mission this morning that had him out of bed the instant he realized what time it was. He had to make it to town, to the Stanton Hotel Café, where all the ranchers gathered early to drink coffee and listen to the stock and grain prices on the radio and compare notes before beginning the day. Garth Whitelaw would be there. And Sam had a few things to say to his new father-in-law.