Into the Arms of a Cowboy (18 page)

From this moment on. . . .

Jess opened the driver’s side door, slid out, and rounded the pickup. He opened Cassie’s door, too. “You know what? We’ve never danced together, not once,” he said.

She laughed, a genuine sound of pleasure that lifted a weight from Jess’s shoulders. “Maybe that’s because you’ve been on crutches almost as long as I’ve known you.”

“Not anymore.” He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her from the truck. She slid into his arms like she belonged there.

Pressed close together, they swayed to the music. Cassie’s eyes were closed tight, her soft cheek against his. Her hair smelled like his shampoo now, not the jungle flowers of the first night they’d met. Somehow, his own no-nonsense supermarket brand was even sexier than orchids and tropical rains. It marked her as his. But she wasn’t his yet. Not until she said yes.

He reached into his pocket and fingered the ring. Would she like it? It wasn’t the traditional diamond solitaire. In fact, it boasted no gemstones at all. Two intertwined
bands, one platinum, one yellow gold, symbolizing two lives woven together. It was simple, like Jess, and beautiful, like the woman he wanted as his wife.

All of a sudden, the words were there. No flowery phrases. No long speeches. Just the truth from a man who’d never learned to embroider his feelings. 

“Cassie,” he whispered into her ear. “
Darlin
’, I love you with all my heart.” He caught her left hand and slid the ring into her palm, then squeezed her fingers tight around it. “Say you’ll marry me. Please.”

Slowly, Cassie opened her hand. She drew in a quick, surprised breath. The moon’s pale light glinted off the ring lying cool against her palm. Joy and pain tangled together in her chest like the twin bands of the ring itself.

Jess loved her.

He wanted to marry her.

What a precious gift he meant to give her--everything she’d ever hoped for, and more--and yet it was a gift she couldn’t accept.

“Say yes, Cassie. Say yes, and then everything will be all right.”

If only it were that simple. She stared down at the ring, unable to speak. His hard, lean body pressed against hers made her dizzy. His lips grazed her cheek, and she grabbed onto him with her free hand, her burning face buried against his shoulder.

Jess braced two fingers under her chin and lifted it up. She had no choice but to look him in the eye. “You do understand what this means, don’t you?” he asked. “I want us to share everything. Everything. Not just our future together, but the past, too. Whatever’s haunting you, whatever it is you’ve done or had done to you--none of that matters.”

The depth of sincerity in his voice pushed her to believe him. But she couldn’t make up her mind to do it. She opened her mouth to speak, hesitated, then plunged ahead. “Jess, I--
I
need some time.”

“I see.” Crushing pain shadowed his eyes and pulled down the corners of his mouth, but he nodded. “I’d hoped--never mind. There’s no rush, I guess. Take all the time you need.”

“Tomorrow. I’ll tell you tomorrow.” By then, she would know what she planned to do.

“While you’re thinking about it, will you wear the ring?”

“Yes. All right.” She smiled weakly as Jess slipped the double-stranded band onto the fourth finger of her left hand. It fit as if it were made for her.

They drove home in near-silence. Cassie sat in the passenger seat, absentmindedly twisting her ring on her finger. What she really needed was a magic ring, one that granted wishes. She didn’t need three. One would do just fine.

I wish I’d never met Andrew J. Chabot III.

Of course, if she hadn’t, she also would have never crawled into the back of Jess’s pickup truck. Oh, why did it all have to be so confusing?

She needed to figure out her next step. Time to make a list. Cassie pictured a ruled pad, and the No. 2 pencil poised above it. No, make that heavy, gilt-edged stationary and a Mont Blanc pen. Okay, better.

Option number one: agree to marry Jess, say nothing, and pray her past wouldn’t catch up with her.

Bad idea. Sooner or later, it would. Sooner, probably, with Jess on his way into work the next morning. His deputy would remember where she’d seen Cassie’s photo, or one of the faxes on his desk would betray her secret. Heck, all he really had to do was turn on the TV or pick up a newspaper. She was too chicken to buy a paper and look for herself, but it was probably still a major story.

Option number two: agree to marry Jess, tell him everything, and ask him to stand by her after she turned herself in.

Much more appealing, but it wouldn’t work. First of all, Jess might run afoul of the law himself for sheltering a fugitive. Would the San Francisco DA really believe he hadn’t known his
fiancee’s
identity?

Second, this wasn’t Jess’s fight. Cassie had gotten herself into trouble. Now she had to get herself out--or deal with the consequences. Did she really want to drag Jess into this whole sordid mess? If worst came to worst, would he wait for her while she served a prison term?

Third. . .third, what if she told him the truth about that terrible night--and he didn’t believe her?

Cassie slumped in her seat. She leaned her forehead against the cold window glass and fought back scalding tears. She might as well admit it. That’s what really scared her--the possibility of Jess’s rejection.

She wanted to believe in unconditional love. With all her heart, she wanted that. But she’d spent too many years guarding her emotions, holding herself back from her alcoholic mother and temporary guardians. If she let herself love Jess with her whole body and soul, if she trusted him with the truth, she would give him the power to wound her beyond bearing. She couldn’t risk it.

That left option number three: leave him.

She would go home to San Francisco and turn herself in to the police. Get the best lawyer she could afford, and hope for an acquittal. Then, if she was very, very fortunate, she could come back with her name clear, her future open. And maybe, just maybe--if she was the luckiest woman on earth--Jess would still want her back.

“Cassie? You sleeping?”

“Hmm? Oh, we’re home.” She opened the door and slid to the ground. Home. What a beautiful word. A sharp pulse of sadness swept through her, leaving her unsteady on her feet.

Jess took her arm, chuckling low in his throat. The sound vibrated through her body. “Need some help there?” he asked.

“Thanks.” She leaned against him, glad to have his strong shoulder for support, and let him lead her inside. He had closed the door behind them before she spoke again, tentatively. “Jess?”

“Yeah?”
“Are you--” She hesitated. “Are you mad at me? For needing some time, I mean?”

He dropped a chaste kiss onto her forehead. “No, Cassie. A touch disappointed, maybe, but not mad.”

“Good.” She slid her arms around his neck and tipped her face up. “So you don’t mind if I do--this?” She brushed her lips against his, a feather-light touch.

“Hell, no. Or this, either.” He caught her face in his hands and kissed her with more determination, parting her lips with his tongue. The fierce embrace ignited a fire in Cassie’s blood.

Tomorrow, she would leave. Tonight she would give Jess every ounce of pleasure she could manage. And take her own pleasure, too, for what could be the very last time.

“
Darlin
’? What is it?”
“Kiss me again, Jess.”

He complied, then pulled away and stared down at her. “You okay? For a minute there, you looked mighty serious.”

She pursed her lips into a mischievous little smile, and gazed up at him through her lashes. “I was just thinking about all the things I plan to do to you tonight.”

“The things
you
plan to do to
me
?”

“Mm-hmm. Think you can handle it?” She took him by the hand and led him to the bed they now shared. Cassie adopted a mock Texas drawl. “Peel off them jeans, cowboy, and I’ll show you, if you’re good and ready.”

Jess raised his brows, but amusement and anticipation made his eyes snap dark fire. He unbuckled the jeans and slid them down, slowly, making it into a show. He was ready, more than ready, and Cassie sucked in her breath as he shed his boxers, too.

He heard her gasp and grinned. “You want me to take charge from here on out?”

Cassie shook her head, shy but determined. She knelt before him, then ran her hands up under Jess’s collared shirt, caressing his chest, then unbuttoned the shirt and pushed it out of her way. Slowly, tantalizingly, she began to kiss his shoulders, his torso, his diamond-hard nipples.

He closed his eyes, his face a mask of near-pain as she continued to tease and torture him. His breaths came in ragged gasps. She loved the way he smelled, the texture of his skin, even the way he tasted, clean and fresh but ever so slightly salty. “Jess, I--” she began.

He opened his eyes and caught her hands in his own rough grasp. “What is it?”

“I want--”

“What?”

She wanted to make him wild with need, as he’d made her the night before. She wanted to make him cry out, even beg. But there was so much she didn’t know. So much that was new to her. “I want to kiss you--” she began, before her voice cracked and broke.

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

His eyes slid closed again. His face twisted with exquisite agony. “What are you waiting for?”

“I’m not sure. . .how.”

He bent his head and kissed her, his tongue delving deep into the hot recesses of her mouth. “You didn’t know how to weed a garden, and that didn’t stop you,” he teased, when he pulled away again.

“This is--um, this is sort of different.”

“Tell that to the tomatoes.” His hands found the buttons on her lacy shirt and undid them one by one. “You’re wearing too many clothes, Cassie.”

She reached around and unzipped her skirt, stepped out of it, and knelt before him in nothing but her bra and panties. “Still too many,” Jess growled.

“Wait,” she whispered. She felt an urge to please him, to get closer to him, and the need drove her to pull the bobby pins from her chignon, shake her head, and then pull her cascade of hair across Jess’s stomach and lower belly. “You first. Show me. . . .”

She’d never seen him so aroused. He seemed to struggle for control. His abdominal muscles grew rigid, and his eyes burned like two dark flames in his tanned face. She gulped for air, her body heated by her own desire. She wanted to prove that she trusted him, that--just for tonight--there was no gift she would not give him.

“Show me,” she repeated.

He nodded and cradled her head into his hands, guiding her gently until she took him into his mouth. The softness of his skin surprised her, but beneath she felt a throbbing rigidity. She braced her palms against his thighs. The muscles there felt as taut as steel bands. She wasn’t nervous anymore. This was Jess, the man she loved. She tasted him again and again, until he groaned and said her name.

She glanced up at him. “Is--did I do something wrong?”

“Lord, no,” he said, through gritted teeth. “But I can’t take much more.” He pulled her up and skimmed off her panties, then took off her bra. “I need to be inside you.”

Cassie had no objections. She was wet and ready, even anxious. But as he began to pull her down onto the bed, she stopped him. “Wait, Jess.”

“
Darlin
’, I can’t wait.”

“Just a second more. You lie down.” She set her hand against his chest and gave a determined push.

“Good God, Cassie, you’re going to kill me.” But his tone was one of admiration rather than annoyance. He fumbled under the mattress, eased back onto the bed, and took care of the protection.

A moment later, Cassie straddled his body and lowered herself onto him, inch by delicious inch. Jess’s hands found her waist, supporting her and urging her on. Her breath caught in her throat as he filled her slowly, then thrust home.

His eyes bore into her, his lids heavy with arousal. “Do you like being on top, Cassie?”

She nodded, feeling the hot flush of mingled pleasure and embarrassment that stained her face and chest. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all, as long as you give me a turn once in a while.”

“Any time.” She moved her hips, seductively, and he moaned. “Want to trade now?”

“No, damn it. I want you to do that again.”

She did. And again, and again, until they were both moving together toward their mutual release. By the time they collapsed together, exhausted and satisfied, their bodies were slick with perspiration.

Good thing, too, because it helped explain why the pillow was wet under Cassie’s cheek. She cried tears of joy, mostly, tears of thankfulness. Fate had brought her together with Jess, even for a short time. Plenty of people went through their whole lives without a love like this. A week worth of heaven ought to be enough.

But it wasn’t, of course. Not nearly.