Maureen McKade (20 page)

A horse nickered, drawing his attention to the corrals. He squinted, studying the slight figure in the enclosure who worked with a yearling. Sunlight glinted off glass, and Jake recognized Kit.

Stepping off the porch, he wandered down to the corral. Kit spotted him, and he caught her quick, welcoming smile in a flash of white. He rested his forearms on the top rail and watched her take the bay gelding through its paces. Holding onto the rope fastened to the horse’s halter, Kit had the animal trot around the perimeter of the fence as she turned slowly with its progress. A subtle movement of her wrist, and the horse slowed to a prancing walk.

He shifted his gaze from the bay to Kit. Her low voice carried to him on the slight breeze, and he shivered as her mellifluous tone curled inside him. He’d never felt jealous of a horse before, but for a moment Jake wished she’d turn her attention to him and forget about the yearling, who couldn’t appreciate her seductive voice.

As he continued to observe, he noticed how well she worked the gelding. How at ease she appeared. Her love for her horses was as evident as stars on a clear night. When he regained his ranch, she’d be left with no place for herself or her horses to go. She’d be forced to sell them to him or to someone else, leaving her with nothing but her adopted son and the clothes on her back.

He balled his hands into fists. Why did this have to be so damned complicated?

He glanced up to see Kit release the gelding. The animal tossed his shimmering mane, then trotted to the trough and buried his muzzle in the water. With a loose stride, Kit walked toward him. The breeze molded her shirt across her breasts, and her trousers outlined the delicious curves of her hips and thighs. The dull throb in his head was forgotten as another, more insistent ache deposed it.

“You shouldn’t be up yet,” Kit scolded.

“I was bored,” he admitted. “Besides, all I got is a headache. Not even as bad as most of my hangovers.”

Kit ducked through the fence, and stood in front of him, and Jake studied her sun-kissed face—the perspiration sheening her brow, the vitality shining in her sparkling eyes.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asked unexpectedly.

Kit’s solemn tone brought Jake’s defenses into place, but he shrugged nonchalantly. “Sure.”

“Did you work at being the opposite of the hero Jake Cordell?”

He forced a chuckle. “You like to hit below the belt, don’t you?”

Kit shook her head. “I’m just curious.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “The man I saw in jail and the saloon was nothing like the Jake Cordell I saw yesterday morning with his horse.”

Her steady gaze flustered him, as did her comment. “I never did like anyone telling me what I could and couldn’t do,” he admitted. “And when T. K. Thorne created this person who was supposed to be me, I figured I’d prove him wrong. My drinking and whoring wouldn’t fit the hero image.”

“Maybe T. K. Thorne didn’t realize heroes were only normal people doing the best they could,” Kit said.

Her soft words caressed him, fanned a need within him that craved her gentle honesty and steadfast confidence in him. Lifting a hand, he traced the curve of her jaw with a light finger. She closed her eyes and parted her sensuous lips invitingly.

His blood burned with now-familiar desire. The top button of her shirt was undone, exposing creamy skin that hinted at what lay hidden from his greedy gaze. He clasped her slender neck between his palms, allowing
his fingers to slip under her collar and splay across the satiny skin of her shoulders.

She breathed a moan and opened her eyes. “Jake.”

The way she spoke his name could have been a prayer or a curse. He swept his tongue across her parted lips, then kissed the tip of her nose.

She leaned forward, her silky crown tickling his chin, and rested her forearms against his chest. Jake accepted her invitation to continue, nuzzling the side of her neck, kissing a fiery trail down inside her shirt’s collar.

His blood stampeded through his veins, growing more tumultuous with each sample of Kit’s sweet charms. He cupped her face between his palms, swooped down to capture her lips with his, alternately coaxing and demanding. Drawing back, he breathed deeply to cool the flames that burned within him. She stared at him with heavy-lidded eyes, and Jake could see the answering desire in their smoky depths.

“I want you, Kit,” he stated, his voice so husky with need he almost didn’t recognize it as his own.

Chapter 13

H
ow often had she dreamed Jake would speak those words to her? Although aching to feel Jake’s tender caresses once more, Kit stepped out of his intoxicating embrace. She trembled with suppressed desires and surrendered to the need to remain in physical contact. Curving her fingers around his hand, she gazed up at his dusky heart-robbing eyes and nearly lost her resolve.

She touched the stark white bandage around his forehead, reminding her how unpredictable life could be.

“There’s some things I need to tell you,” she said, her voice breathy with anxiety. She glanced down at his hand, clasped in hers, then brought her attention back to his strong-jawed face. “Have you ever thought about settling down, Jake?”

He studied her with a twinkling gaze. “Is that a proposal?”

Startled, Kit shook her head. “No, of course not.”

“That’s too bad. I might’ve been tempted to say yes.”

Could he be serious? Kit thrust the thought aside. “You haven’t answered my question.”

Jake drew away, his expression sobering. “I’ve come back to Chaney and set up a law office.”

“That isn’t what I meant. I’m talking about a family, children.” Her heart pounded like she’d run a mile.

“Last I heard, I’d have to have a wife first, and you know how I feel about that.”

Kit’s stomach twisted with apprehension. He wasn’t making this easy.

His grip tightened on her hand, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“What is it?” she asked anxiously.

“I should probably get back to the house,” he replied with a failed attempt to smile.

His complexion matched the bandage around his forehead, and concern sent Kit’s confession scurrying back to its hiding place.

“I told you it was too soon for you to be up,” she scolded.

Jake managed a lopsided grin. “You sound like a nagging wife.”

Kit bit her tongue to keep her sharp retort unspoken. As she led him across the yard and up to his room, her impatience evaporated. She shouldn’t have allowed herself to get carried away by his skilled touches.

She eased him down on the bed. With her back to him, Kit leaned over to tug off his boots and dropped them to the floor with a loud clump. He chuckled and she turned, propping her hands on her hips. “What’re you laughing about?”

He arched a dark brow. “You give me another view like that, and you’ll be sharing this bed with me.”

Kit’s face burned with mortification. “I thought you were too weak to do anything but sleep.”

“It’s my head that’s hurting. Everything else works just fine.” With gingerly movements, he folded his arms behind his head. “What is it you wanted to tell me?”

Kit’s gaze swept down his broad chest to his narrow waist and hips, pausing on the telltale sign of his arousal.
He was right; nothing seemed to be wrong with that part of him. Flustered, she spun away. “We can talk about it later.”

Kit hurried out, not stopping until she came to the corral. Leaning against the fence, she gathered her breath and her wits.

Her fiery response to his kisses had astonished her. If her conscience hadn’t bothered her, she’d have surrendered to his seductive invitation. That realization didn’t shock her as it should have. She’d fought her attraction to him ever since he’d returned, but he’d been etched upon her heart for years.

She rested her arms on the fence and laid her flushed cheek on her folded wrists. She was tired of doing the right thing. Jake’s roguish smile alone had the power to set her heart fluttering and her insides tingling with an ache only Jake could appease.

Raising her head, she gazed upward at the sky that was so blue it almost hurt her eyes. She could no longer deny what every fiber in her body already knew.

She loved Jake Cordell.

“Can I say good night to Mr. Cordell?” Johnny asked.

Kit finished buttoning his nightshirt. “If he’s still awake.”

Johnny dashed out of his room, and Kit lowered herself to the edge of his bed. She heard Jake’s low voice and Johnny’s answering childish tones. Imagining Jake tucking his son in every night brought a lump to her throat, and the thought of sharing Jake’s bed every night brought another kind of wistful longing.

“He was awake,” Johnny said, and threw himself on the mattress beside Kit. “He’s feeling a lot better.”

“Did he tell you that?”

Johnny shook his head. “No. I could just tell.” He
knelt on the bed. “I wish he didn’t have to leave.”

“Me, too,” Kit answered honestly. “But he can’t stay with us forever.”

Johnny slumped against her back, wrapping his arms around her neck. “I’m going to miss him.”

The dejection in Johnny’s voice brought a haunting sadness to Kit. She squeezed her son’s small hands and whispered, “Me, too.”

Johnny knelt beside the bed and folded his hands together. “God bless Ma and Charlie and Ethan and Pete and Mr. Cordell. And please, God, take care of Zeus in heaven. Amen.”

Guilt settled like a rock in her stomach. There was a strong possibility that Zeus’s death was her fault.

Johnny crawled into bed, and Kit covered him.

“Do you think we could give the new colt to Mr. Cordell? I know it wouldn’t be like having Zeus back, but I think he might like him,” Johnny said.

Her son’s suggestion gave Kit a means to appease her conscience slightly. She smiled. “I think that’s a good idea. How about if we talk to Mr. Cordell tomorrow and see what he thinks?”

“He’ll like Smoky, and he can train him to be as smart as Zeus was.” He frowned. “Who would want to kill Zeus?”

“I don’t know, but whoever it was, he had to be a very bad man.” She leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Good night, sweetheart.”

“Good night, Ma.”

Kit paused in the doorway, her gaze lingering on Johnny’s beloved face.

Lightning split the night sky, and thunder rumbled off in the distance, heralding the first spring storm. A shiver shimmied down her spine. Despite the possible repercussions, she had to tell Jake about his son. The boy ached for a father, and he already cared for Jake. Johnny
would be ecstatic to learn his hero was also his father. And Kit had no doubt Jake wouldn’t leave his son, the way he believed his own father had deserted him.

Where would that leave her? She hoped that because Jake knew what it was like to grow up without a mother, he wouldn’t separate Johnny from her. Did she dare hope that her dream of a family could be fulfilled?

Leaving the door ajar, she moved toward Jake’s room, but her courage failed her. It was late. She’d tell him tomorrow. Feeling like a coward, Kit retreated to her bedroom.

Three hours later, sleep remained elusive. With an impatient tug, Kit unrolled the blankets that had twisted around her. Staring at the ceiling, she recalled Jake’s kisses and the light touch of his fingertips on her bare shoulders. She groaned in frustration and sat up.

Throwing back her covers, she swung her feet to the woven rug and stood. She might as well do something constructive and work on the last Jake Cordell dime novel. Maybe she’d forget the taste of his sinfully delicious lips. Maybe she’d forget his tangy scent that invaded her senses. Maybe she’d forget the masculinity that had been outlined by his damp drawers.

Kit slipped on her spectacles and pulled on her robe, tying the sash around her waist. Tiptoeing down the hall, she heard a muffled groan and stopped by Johnny’s room to peer at his peaceful features. With a frown, she crossed to Jake’s bedroom, where murmured words met her ears.

Opening the door, she spied him tossing and turning, his blankets draped to the floor. As he muttered unintelligible phrases, Kit’s compassion overcame her prudence. She glided across the floor to his bedside and leaned over to shake his shoulder.

“Jake, wake up,” she said.

“No, he’s dead … the blood …”

Jake thrashed about and Kit grabbed his flailing hands. “Shhh, it’s all right, Jake. You’re safe here.”

Jake clasped her wrists and jerked her toward him. She tumbled onto his long, lean frame. Too surprised to move, Kit remained in his grasp, her cheek pressed against the curling dark hairs that covered his chest and her legs straddled on either side of his.

“Kit?” His deep-timbered voice sounded confused. “What’re you doing here?”

She raised her head and found his whisker-shadowed chin a couple of inches from her face. “You were having another nightmare. I was trying to wake you.”

Jake stared up at her, the slumber disappearing from his eyes as a fire kindled within their dark depths. “Or maybe you couldn’t resist me any longer?”

She struggled to escape his hold, but he wouldn’t free her. Glaring, she tried to hide her fluttering pulse. “I think you overestimate your charm. Let me go.”

“Not until you kiss me.” Impudence curved his lips upward.

Not that smile!
Longing spiraled through her, but deceptions still remained between them. Staring down at his devilish grin and sparkling eyes, she felt her resolve waver. After she told him the truth, Jake might never look at her that way again. This might be her last chance at claiming a piece of her dreams.

She snuggled closer to the masculine angles that were covered only by a thin pair of drawers. “What do I get if I kiss you?”

He blinked as if startled by her acceptance of his terms. “A surprise.”

“I like surprises,” she replied in a husky voice.

Allowing instinct to guide her, she let her mouth settle on his. He didn’t move a muscle, and Kit drew her tongue along his sensuous lips. They were velvety smooth to her inexperienced touch, and she grew bolder
with the new adventure. She nibbled at the corners of his mouth, and he moaned.

Kit drew back. “How was that?”

Jake gazed at her with an astonished expression. “Where the hell did you learn that?”

Giddy excitement gave Kit a sense of smug confidence. “From you.”

“You’re a helluva pupil. I think you deserve a reward.”

He removed her wire-rimmed glasses and set them on the nightstand. Wrapping his arms around her, he drew her flush with his hard contours, her breasts flattening against his chest. His tangy scent intoxicated her, making her dizzy with wanting him.

He stroked her upswept brow with his thumbs, and guilt knifed through him. If he possessed an ounce of honor, he would force her to leave before he shattered her illusions. But he wasn’t a hero, and he wanted Kit with a deep, abiding ache that begged to be sated. He wanted her gentle acceptance. He wanted the gift she offered more than he’d wanted anything.

With a savage growl, he crushed his mouth to hers. A whimper escaped Kit. He tamed the fierce kiss, turning it into a gentle caress. He traced her swollen lips, feasting on her honey-sweetness.

With clear, love-lit eyes, Kit spoke in a low voice. “Love me, Jake.”

His breath stumbled in his throat. He had no right taking what she offered freely and without conditions, yet he knew he would. Nothing on earth could have prevented him from surrendering to the molten heat that coursed through his blood.

“Are you sure?” he asked, giving her one last chance to leave with her fairytale hero still intact.

Drawing a light finger across his lips, she nodded. “I’ve waited for you all my life, Jake.”

He stared into her moonlight-gilded features, wondering what he’d done to deserve such adoration. He tipped her angelic face upward, and their breaths blended into a single sigh.

Kit slid her fingers into his silky hair and met his exploring tongue with hers. His uneven breaths matched her own, and she felt his erection pressing into her abdomen. Answering instinct’s summons, she moved against his aroused flesh.

A breathy moan broke from Jake’s lips, and he nibbled her earlobe, teasing it. Unexpected moisture dampened the core of her desire, and she closed her eyes, shocked by her potent reaction to his touch. He inched up her gown and cool air swirled around her legs. Curving his hands around her buttocks, he slid his fingers upward, leaving a trail of fiery heat halfway up her spine. Stroking downward, he grasped her hips, pulling her snug against him.

Kit licked a salt ribbon that glided into the coarse hair at the base of his neck. His pulse quickened beneath her tongue, fluttering like a hummingbird’s wings. Awed by her power over him, Kit continued her moist trail along his neck to the tender skin beneath his ear.

Jake removed the sash of her robe, then fumbled with the ribbon at the top of her nightgown. “I want to see you, Kit.”

She rose, kneeling above Jake’s waist. For a moment, uncertainty gripped her. Passion warred with apprehension. She gazed down at Jake and recognized the desire in his eyes. Her trepidation dissolved and she removed her robe, dropping it to the floor. She grasped the hem of her lacy white nightgown and lifted it over her head, allowing it to drift to the floor with a whisper.

Jake’s deliberate gaze moved over her, devouring every detail of her slender, willowy body. The moon’s glow brushed her full breasts with silver strokes, and her
tight nipples beckoned him. Her narrow waist flared to curved hips that framed the triangle of honey-gold curls at the juncture of her thighs. As if afraid she would vanish, he reached out with a tentative hand to touch her breast. He brushed her pillow-softness with his fingertips, then moved downward over the hardness of the crest. He weighed one blushing breast in his palm, then leaned forward and drew the crowning nipple into his mouth. Kit’s sharp intake of breath sent blood surging through his veins.

He followed the gentle indentation of her waist with his work-roughened hand, and moved lower, pausing at the golden tangle of hair. She moaned and shifted slightly. She was hot and slick, and he caressed her tenderly.

Desire pierced Kit like a hundred tiny arrows. Jake moved to her other breast, and a tremor seized her. She grabbed Jake’s arms, forcing him back, away from her chest.

“No, I want to make you feel this good, this special,” she said.

He stared at her, his thick, inky eyelashes unflickering. He stretched out his hand, brushed back a strand of hair from her forehead. “When I touch you like this—” He pressed his lips against the heated valley between her breasts. “It makes me feel good.” Pausing, he kissed one satiny slope, then the other. “Special.”