Sweetwater Seduction (11 page)

“I don't have to know—”

“—right now that would give you a pretty good idea of the powerful passions you've set in motion.”

He stepped closer as he spoke, and Miss Devlin was suddenly aware of how tall he was, how broad his shoulders, how narrow his hips. He was close enough that she could see the fine laugh lines at the corners of his eyes, the slanting scar on his cheek, the shadow of dark beard on his face. She could actually smell him, the scents at once foreign and familiar. Saddle leather. Sweat. A musky smell both strange and alluring.

His entire posture challenged her, daring her to stand her ground. The urge was there to retreat. But she had already learned that when she ran, he pursued. Miss Devlin wasn't about to give him another chance to play fox and hare with her. She stood rigidly in place, chin up, shoulders back, defiant. She swallowed despite the dryness of her mouth and demanded, “What kind of lesson did you have in mind, Mr. Kerrigan?”

“A kiss, Miss Devlin.”

“That's all?”

“That's enough,” he said with a roguish grin.

She shivered and told herself it was from the chill in the schoolroom, although that hardly seemed likely with the heat from his body nearly scorching her. She vehemently denied to herself any possibility that what she had experienced was a quiver of anticipation. It was a lot more likely she was shaking with fear of . . . of the unknown.

Miss Devlin had only been kissed once, when she was thirteen. It hadn't been a particularly moving experience because fourteen-year-old Roger Freeland's lips had been chapped and cracked from the cold. He had mashed her lips against her teeth so hard she had been glad when it was over. Eden found it hard to believe a simple kiss could be as dangerous as Mr. Kerrigan suggested. Yet she definitely felt threatened right now.

She subconsciously licked her lips and rubbed her sweaty palms against her merino skirt. “You're saying that if I kiss you I'll regret the course of action I've taken with the rancher and nester wives?”

“I'm sure of it.”

“We'll just see,” she said. “Go ahead and kiss me.”

Miss Devlin's voice was calm, but her pulse was racing. She squinted her eyes closed and tipped her chin upward, pursing her lips for his kiss. She waited a moment, but nothing happened. Then she heard a burst of rich, masculine laughter.

Startled, she opened her eyes to find the gunslinger shaking his head, his eyes alight with humor, his mouth an insolent grin spilling chuckles of sound.

Her face burned with humiliation. “If you're finished amusing yourself, I have work to do.” She turned to scoop up a stack of papers off her desk.

“Wait!” The Texan's hand on her shoulder spun her back around, sending papers scattering across the floor. At the same time he captured her in the warm circle of his embrace. His voice was tender and soothing, his arms strong and comforting.

When Miss Devlin was tempted to accept the comfort he offered, she forcefully reminded herself he was a gunfighter, a man of violence—like her father. Eden knew his kind from bitter experience.

Kerrigan's hands continued roaming up and down her back, soothing her as he would a nervous filly. She refused to feel pleasure, but neither was she able to withdraw.

“Relax,” he coaxed.

She wanted to, but she couldn't. This moment in time wouldn't last. She was already seeing him dead, gunned down by some kid trying to prove he was faster, or shot in the back by someone afraid to face him on the street. She wasn't going to be fooled into thinking there was anything wonderful about being held in a gunfighter's embrace.

“I didn't mean to hurt your feelings,” he said. “I knew you were innocent, but I had no idea—”

Miss Devlin glared at him, her gray eyes darting angry sparks. “Since when is innocence a crime, Mr. Kerrigan?”

“It isn't,” he soothed. “But ignorance can cause you to make costly mistakes.”

She was a big woman, but he held her as though she were not. Resisting his strength only reminded her of her helplessness, so she stood quiet and stolid as a stone in his embrace.

“I'm going to kiss you now,” he said.

She stared at him, unmoving, until his mouth was so close she could feel his moist breath on her face. At last she had to close her eyes to keep them from crossing. But she did not lift her face, or move her mouth in any way, afraid of making a fool of herself again.

He angled his head so his lips feathered over hers. That brief touch was replaced by his entire mouth, covering hers. His lips were surprisingly soft as they brushed hers once, twice. When he lifted his head, she opened her eyes and stared at him—stunned.

Kerrigan had been surprised at the jolt of desire he felt the instant his mouth touched hers. There was something infinitely dangerous about her innocence. The soft, whimpering sound she had made as his mouth covered hers had caught him somewhere in the gut. He lowered his mouth to hers again searching for . . . something.

Miss Devlin was ready this time for the firm lips that softened as they tasted her, but that didn't mean she was any less devastated. His teeth nibbled at her lower lip and she quivered in response to the stab of desire she felt. She fought the urge to arch her body toward him, forcing herself to go rigid againhe opened her mouth to tell him the lesson was over and his tongue came seeking the sweetness within.

Eden had never tasted another human being this way. The warmth, the wetness, the closeness, was overwhelming. Telling herself it was only curiosity that kept her in his thrall, she remained perfectly still as Kerrigan's tongue gently ravished her mouth, touching the underside of her lip and her teeth and the roof of her mouth. When he withdrew she felt more frightened than she had ever been in her life.

Because she wanted him to kiss her again.

Eden couldn't have moved to save her life. When Kerrigan's tongue came seeking honey again, she felt as though a drawstring had pulled her insides up tight. A spiral of need began below her waist and worked its way up inside her, until her nipples peaked in an embarrassing way. She clenched her hands at her sides to keep from reaching for him and shuddered with the unbelievably strong feelings that assaulted her.

Eden didn't know how long she stood there, eyes closed, lips damp, nipples peaked, before she realized Kerrigan had stopped kissing her. Slowly she opened her eyes, appalled at her reaction, afraid she would find him laughing at her again. But his dark eyes were hooded, lambent with need, his nostrils flared for the scent of her, his body riveted by tightly leashed desire. That musky male smell reached her senses again. She recognized it now as man, wanting woman.

Oh, this was dangerous, this kissing. It left her . . . wanting. Was this how her father had enslaved her mother? What on earth had she been thinking to allow Kerrigan such liberties?

It took her a moment to remember why she had permitted Kerrigan to kiss her in the first place. He had wanted to prove how powerful a weapon passion could be. Well, he had made his point. But she would never give him the satisfaction of knowing it.

“I'm afraid you've wasted your time, Mr. Kerrigan,” she said in a hoarse voice, her eyes glazed with desire.

“I have?”

She cleared her throat and said, “Yes. You see, what you've shown me only makes me even more certain I've chosen the right course to follow.”

“How so?” he demanded.

“I'm assuming that if you could make those feelings happen for me, I could make them happen for you. Am I right?”

The gunslinger's body tautened as he thought of the schoolteacher returning his kiss with fervor. He nodded curtly.

“Then I'm sure this war between the spouses will be over soon.”

“Why is that?”

“Because no man is going to choose fighting over feelings like that,” she announced with a smug

The man from Texas stared stunned for a moment before he threw back his head and bellowed with laughter. He tipped his hat to her and said, “I concede the battle, Miss Devlin.” He grinned and added, “But not the war.”

“What is that supposed to mean, Mr. Kerrigan? Do the ranchers still intend to hire you despite this new . . . complication?”

Now was the time to tell her the ranchers intended him to solve this new complication by seducing her. She was the lamb and he was the big, bad wolf sent to devour her. Damn her innocence! He hardened his heart against the soft feelings she raised in him. He couldn't afford to allow those feelings back into his life. This was a cold, cruel world, and the sooner Eden Devlin learned that, the better.

“The Association still wants to find out who's rustling their cattle,” he said brusquely.

Miss Devlin stooped and began gathering up the papers that had gone flying when the gunslinger took her in his arms. “And you think you can succeed where Sheriff Reeves has failed?”

“It's happened before.”

Miss Devlin stopped and stared. Her brow rose in confusion. “I didn't know you'd met Felton before you came to Sweetwater.”

“We've crossed paths” was all he would say.

“Do you have a plan to catch the rustlers?”

“A thief is like a calf. Give him enough rope and he'll tangle himself.”

“I just can't imagine any of the husbands and fathers I know rustling cattle,” Miss Devlin said.

“Then how do you explain the fact that cattle are missing?”

Miss Devlin sat at her desk and began putting the homework papers in some semblance of order. “I don't know. It doesn't make sense.”

“Not any more sense than a woman like you going unkissed for so many years,” he agreed.

Miss Devlin rose abruptly from her chair, alarmed at how quickly Kerrigan had turned the discussion back in a direction she wanted desperately to avoid. Before she could escape, he stepped up onto the platform that held her desk, effectively blocking her exit. She held the papers up in front of her, hoping they would provide a shield.

They didn't.

He took a step toward her.

Maybe being blunt would work. “Stay away from me.”

“I find that impossible. I don't see how you've managed to stmarried, Miss Devlin. Your being plain might explain it, except I can't believe no man has seen the fire in your eyes when you're angry.”

“You're about to get burned all right, if you don't—”

His callused thumb brushed her cheek.

“Or the way the sun shines off that pretty red hair of yours.”

“My hair is no concern—”

He took a wayward curl and tucked it behind her ear.

“And it's a wonder no man has wanted to take this waist in his hands . . . and hold a woman like you in his arms . . .”

“I don't want you to—”

He placed his large, strong hands on either side of her waist, using just a little pressure to draw her toward him, and then slid his arms around her and pulled their bodies together so her breasts nestled against his chest and her belly slid into the cradle created by his hips.

“Kerrigan, don't—”

“You're just the right size—”

“Not for most men,” Miss Devlin denied in a raspy voice.

“—for me.”

For the briefest second, Eden surrendered, her lips softening under his. Then she remembered her mother's tears. Eden Devlin wasn't going to cry her eyes out for any man.

An instant later Kerrigan found himself with an iceberg in his arms. It was either release her or chance a case of frostbite. He dropped his hands and sat a hip on the corner of Miss Devlin's desk. He tipped his hat back off his forehead and asked, “What did I do wrong this time, Miss Devlin?”

“Why all this attention for the spinster schoolteacher?” Eden demanded. “Surely a man of your immense charms can find more compliant—not to mention more beautiful—female company, Mr. Kerrigan.”

Kerrigan's eyes shifted away from her probing gaze. He had gotten so caught up in the pleasure of what he was doing that he had forgotten his less than honorable purpose in coming here. He had never imagined Miss Devlin would be astute enough to question his motives. He realized with a start that he was ashamed of what he had agreed to do. It had been a long time since he had suffered that emotion. Miss Devlin was going to have a lot to answer for when they were finally naked in each other's arms.