Sleepless in Montana (29 page)

One swift movement of his hand tore away the
shirt and then he lifted her, his hands beneath her hips, entering
her quickly, just as she wanted, the knife edge of desire burning
her—

His desire for her stunned and shocked and
pleasured as she wrapped her arms around him. Her fingers locked in
Hogan’s hair to hold his mouth against hers, demanding, taking,
filling her—

The rocketing pleasure took her higher,
caught her there, unprepared and shook her.

Hogan, his expression harsh and forbidding,
his great body quaking in her arms, shook his head. “I shouldn’t
have done that—”

“Don’t say that. It was right.” She’d have
died if he hadn’t taken her with that riveting, burning passion,
making her feel powerful and all woman. “I wanted you— I just
didn’t know we could actually do it—”

She glanced down at his body— “Hogan? Do you
ever get tired?”

He laughed again, a carefree happy sound that
curled around her heart. This time he lifted her high to kiss her
breasts, to nuzzle them gently. There was a tenderness about him, a
reverence for her that surprised and warmed her and she smoothed
his hair, enjoying this new Hogan— her Hogan.

*** ***

There was nothing sweet about “her Hogan”
when he stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder, claiming her,
and all the Kodiaks stood on the porch studying them.

Tired, aching, and wildly happy, she leaned
back against him. After three days away, she was certain that
evidence of Hogan’s very thorough lovemaking warmed every part of
her body. Her cheeks were still hot from the moments on the trail
down to the Kodiak ranch, when Hogan had gently pushed her face
down on a warm, sun kissed rock and had lain over her back, lifting
her hips and entering her femininity slowly, loving her so quickly
and thoroughly that she’d barely been able to stand.

Now— the Kodiak family, the one she loved
deeply— Aaron, Dinah, Carley, Mitch, and Ben were standing on the
porch, and they
knew
.

Certain that she wore one big blush from head
to foot, she leaned back against Hogan. She knew how she looked—
wearing Hogan’s big shirt and jeans rolled up at the cuffs, her
hair in wild curls from his wandering hands, and her body weak from
pleasure. Jemma looked down to the shirt’s mismatched buttons and
groaned.

Hogan’s arm instantly came around her,
drawing her protectively to his side.

“Are you ashamed?” he asked in a low voice
only she could hear.

“No,” she whispered back. “But I’m a mess,
and you know it.”

He let out his breath as if he’d been holding
it, relieved by her answer. Jemma glanced up at him. “I was right
there with you, Hogan. It wasn’t a seduction or your fault.”

He shook his head, a magnificent man smiling
lazily down at her. “Damn, Jemma. I tried.”

Ben was the first to break the silence.
“Well, it’s going to be a long day. Can’t stand around here all
day. I’ve got work to do,” he said briskly, as though nothing had
changed, as though she was still his friend and a part of his
family.

Hogan looked down at Jemma, who had turned to
look up at him. He’d taken her fiercely, demanded and given, and
she’d shattered him. He hadn’t expected the emotions between them,
the way he adored her body curling against his as she slept. The
fierce drive and pleasure of making love to her, and the tenderness
later.

He traced her face, softer, warmer now, a
woman who had spent three days making love....

Hogan wanted them to see his mark upon her— a
primitive need, to mark this woman as his own. It had shocked him
at first. He could have told her about the misbuttoned shirt, her
rumpled, well-loved appearance, that fascinating, shy blush. But
he’d been too busy enjoying the sight.

She was his missing part, finally in place;
all else would fall into place after their lovemaking. The thought
hurled down from the Montana sun and staked him.

“Come in, Hogan,” Jemma said quietly, taking
his hand. “I want you to.”

Ben watched his son’s expression, that wary
dark look of a man uncertain about a woman’s powers. Ben gripped
his bad leg— neither youngster knew the wildfire they held in their
hands, how easily it could be destroyed.

He noted Aaron’s and Mitch’s stances, the
hard, knowing looks at Hogan, and knew that there would be an
argument, because of Jemma’s new rumpled and steamed look. The
brothers would have their say, and so would Carley, and for the
first time Hogan would have to defend himself against them.

“Hell to pay, boy,” Ben murmured, but this
time he’d stay out of it. He glanced at Dinah and caught the tear
glittering on her lashes with his fingertip. “They’ll be fine,
honey.”

“I know, but she was just a little girl only
yesterday— and he was so perfect, that little piece of you.” Dinah
rested her head upon Ben’s shoulder.

Uneasy with what was expected of him,
bringing home the woman he’d obviously claimed, Hogan met the stern
expressions of his brothers and Carley. They’d come after him, and
he didn’t want Jemma to see the war, because he wasn’t backing
down, not after he’d given his heart.

Hogan shook his head, gave Jemma a nice
stringer of good-sized trout, kissed her lightly, and swung up onto
his horse. His family would be coming soon enough, and it wouldn’t
be pretty.

Jemma held the stringer of fish, stunned that
Hogan could ride away so easily from her. Her body still ached
pleasantly from his larger one, and he gave no indication of what
they’d shared.

Then she hurled the fish onto the ground and
stood, glaring at him, her hands on her hips. He rode to his house
all straight-backed and Western and carefree, as if he hadn’t
placed himself in her keeping many times in the past few days.

Ben shook his head. He had his own problems
with Dinah’s blue, blue eyes and the unexpected, sensual lurch of
his damaged body when he looked at her.

*** ***

On a road nearby, a driver put away his
binoculars. The sun would reflect upon the glass surface and give
away his location.

The Kodiaks were hunters, and one flash could
pinpoint the observer. His car wasn’t unusual, and passed by this
road routinely; he was safe, wrapped anonymously in his everyday
passings.

Jemma Delaney had serviced Hogan Kodiak; she
wore that look— her face rosy and excited, her hair tumbling down
from where it was knotted on top of her head.

Hogan’s expression had been grim and wary,
until Jemma touched his shoulder and laughed at him. Then Hogan had
smiled slowly. Hogan Kodiak, lone wolf, had changed.

An impure, lowly woman, Jemma didn’t matter.
Only Carley mattered, the observer’s Celestial Virgin. He stroked
himself, thinking of how he would tear away her maidenhood and how
she would worship him.

*** ***

Chapter Eleven

“You should have left Jemma alone, Hogan.
Dammit, she’s Carley’s best friend, and she doesn’t play around,”
Aaron said, slamming Hogan’s front door behind him.

Hogan had been daydreaming about how to
romance a woman— specifically Jemma— what to say to her, how to
give her those softer words telling of his heart.

He’d known without doubt that he was placing
his claim, taking Jemma as his woman, his mate. Making love to her
burned away all doubt that he had a heart, that warmth could glow
within him, that he could be happy. That lock had clicked, and now
it was a matter of laying all the components in line, because Jemma
was not an easy woman.

Mitch jerked open the door, stepped inside,
and crossed his arms. Carley entered the room and glared at Hogan
as Mitch said, “I second that. Jemma didn’t stand a chance. You
hauled her off and she came down from that mountain looking like
she’d been steamed and rolled in the bushes. Both of you standing
there, glowing like idiots. But you wanted that, didn’t you— to get
at Ben. He thinks of her as a daughter.”

“Ben doesn’t come into this.” He’d been
thinking about Jemma, the way her hair slid through his fingers and
webbed across his skin, glistening in the sunlight. The drowsy soft
gray of her eyes, her breath on his skin.

Hogan blinked, surprised that he was
daydreaming about Jemma, talking with her, enjoying the high lift
of her chin—

He’d sensed that he was giving not just his
body, but his essence to her care. That thought jarred as he met
his brothers’ glares.

Carley pushed Mitch aside and added her
glare. “Jemma is my friend, not some cheap pickup— someone to fill
your bed when you feel the need.”

“I didn’t say she was. Family, welcome to my
abode, by the way. Try not to wreck anything costly.” He’d had
experience with his brothers and sister running him down with fire
in their eyes, but back then, it was about Ben.

Aaron had a sizable temper, so did Mitch, but
they were nothing compared to Carley, who had a penchant for
throwing anything at hand.

For the moment, he was saved by the ringing
phone.

Simone’s soft French accent purred over the
lines. “I’ve missed you,
cher
. When are you coming to see
me?”

Hogan smiled, watching his siblings’
out-for-blood expressions as he spoke to Simone. “I’m enjoying
myself. I’ve needed this for a long time.”

After a quick necessary discussion about the
showing of his new collection in Paris, Hogan ignored Simone’s
sexual invitation. Jemma had pushed all other women from his mind,
his body. That thought nettled as he replaced the phone.

“Nice day, isn’t it?” he asked his scowling
siblings.

Aaron picked up a pencil sketch of Fire
Feathers and studied it. He lifted an eyebrow at Hogan. “You
wouldn’t be feeding on Jemma? Using her for ideas, would you? This
design reminds me of her, instantaneous— burning and yet soft— not
your usual sophisticated jet-setter design.”

Hogan didn’t lie. “She is the inspiration for
that design, and others.”

“You vampire. I’ve seen you gather ideas
before, harvesting them, taking sights into you and turning them
into profit. You’re selling her in pieces,” Aaron exploded.

“Lay off,” Hogan said slowly. He didn’t like
the image, but it was true. The design was his best, drawn from
deep inside him, without thought to marketing what sold, or women’s
tastes. Fire Feathers seemed to ripple in a sunlit breeze, but they
were also boldly tempestuous like a hot summer storm. The emotion
in the design had startled him. In contrast, his other work looked
good and saleable, but the intensity didn’t compare.

He tried to push his unsettled emotions down
and return to the routine of his life. The sound of grinding coffee
beans tore through the airy, sunlit room, and he ran water into the
pot, ignoring his family.

He glanced at them and knew he would pay a
price before their outrage settled down. Hogan poured the ground
beans into the coffeemaker and smiled briefly. Jemma had been worth
the payment he was about to feel from his family.

“You’re a little old to be collecting notches
on your bedpost,” Mitch stated, and that thought slapped at Hogan.
He didn’t want Jemma to be in anyone’s bed but his. And that
thought grated. He intended to keep the pledge that he’d made on
the mountain, a vow to a woman he respected.

“Men!” Carley slapped the counter.

“Maybe you need to be reminded of how to
treat a lady, Hogan,” Aaron offered darkly.

“You? And who else?” Hogan didn’t know how to
treat Jemma, not when he’d wanted to keep her up on the mountain
longer, making love to her. Those three days were the sweetest in
his life, and he wasn’t certain how they would impact his life.

He hadn’t expected the passion surging from
him with enough power to bruise her wrists; he’d never hurt a woman
while making love, never wanted to linger and to play.

He gauged Aaron and knew that his brother’s
ripe temper matched his own. While he didn’t like his dark storms
and nettling guilt about Jemma, a good brawl might ease the
pressure.

One truth ran through him: He’d given her his
heart and his vows up there on the mountain.

Aaron met Hogan’s narrowed look and stood
slowly, matching him for size. “Maybe it is time you got taken down
a notch or two, big brother.”

Carley scrubbed her hands over her face, her
pale straight hair swinging around her face and settling against
her flushed cheeks. Her blue eyes sliced at the males, one by one.
“Does anyone care how awful it is to live with this much
testosterone waiting to show off? Hogan, you’ve got to keep your
hands off Jemma. She’s my friend and while she may seem to be
experienced, she’s not. Her marriage was a nightmare.”

“Under all that fast-talking, brassy mouth,
she’s inexperienced.” Mitch said darkly, backing up Carley’s
appraisal of Jemma. “You took her up there to have her. Not quite a
penthouse bedroom, so she came cheap, didn’t she?”

That deepened Hogan’s anger, because it was
true. He should have courted her, given her bouquets and gifts and
taken her more gently. But the urgency to have her, to bind them
together, had ruled him. He really did not like being at the mercy
of his emotions. Now, confronted by his family, he didn’t like the
“defiler of sweet, innocent thing” label plastered on him.

“She knows what she wants,” Hogan said,
defending himself. Jemma had wanted him fiercely, but there was
that softness in her, too, holding him close and sweet.

“What about good old Simone?” Aaron asked.
“You’re used to traveling in an amoral set. You took Jemma because
you were bored, needed a playmate, and wanted to push Dad.”

“Did I? Maybe Ben needs pushing.” Feeling
surly now and not liking that emotion, Hogan didn’t like being the
offender, or striking back.

In those first years out of Montana, he had
been amoral, pairing with women just as careless of what making
love should mean. Now he knew the difference, and he didn’t like
the picture of himself in earlier years, out to devour the world
and set it on fire.