Tracker’s Sin (22 page)

trail his mistress, his baying a battle cry that had echoed through the hil s, cal ing the Hel ’s Eight to Desi’s aid. Without him, no one would have known

where she was until it was too late. The act of courage and devotion had forever earned him a place at Hel ’s Eight. And when he’d sired puppies, there

hadn’t been a family within a hundred miles that hadn’t clamored for one of his offspring. Boone was a legend. The why of it just baffled a person when

they looked at him.

“If you tel him to attack, I’l have to defend myself.”

She gasped. “You’d hurt Boone?”

Tracker thought she was going to throw herself over the dog’s body. The hound opened one eye and looked at Tracker. Tracker shook his

head. Boone moaned, and damned if it didn’t sound like reproach. Shit, the two of them were too much.

“And have Caine kick my ass? I don’t think so.”

“He would, too.”

“But not because he loves Boone.”

“He does.”

Desi had a way of overlooking things that didn’t serve her purpose.

“He loves him because he loves you, which is also why he’d be kicking my ass.”

Desi smiled that gamin grin that was so infectious. “See? He loves him.”

Tracker pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Is there a point to this discussion?”

“Yes.”

He waited. She bit her lip. Never a good sign.

“Just tel me. I’m too damn tired to pul the information from you.”

“Someone has to confront Ari.”

He had a horrible feeling what was coming. “So?”

“We discussed it.”

“Who is we?”

“Tia, Sal y Mae, Bel a and I.”

They were al in on this? Shit. The horrible feeling changed to a sinking one. “And?”

“We’ve decided it’s a job best left for her husband, so we’re al keeping away and letting you handle it—”

“I’m not real y her husband. Not in her eyes.”

“You can’t renege now.”

“You have no idea what you’re asking.”

“She’s my sister, Tracker. I know her better than you.”

Not in this, she didn’t. “It’s impossible.”

“If it was, you wouldn’t have married her.”

“I was saving her a—her butt.”

Desi folded her arms across her chest. “Are you trying to tel me you don’t care about her?”

“I’m trying to tel you it doesn’t matter what I feel. In case it’s escaped your notice, I look a he—heck of a lot like the men who abused her.”

Desi bit her lip. “Caine looks an awful lot like the men who held me hostage.”

“I hardly think it’s the same.”

“It has to be.”

“Why? Because you want it to be?”

“Yes.” Desi raked the wild mass of her hair off her face. The curls sprang right back, wil y-nil y, to where they wanted to be. “Yes.”

“Things don’t work that way, Desi. You know it.”

“Al I know is that I was just as scared and just as humiliated as Ari. I was terrified of every man I saw and al I wanted to do was run away

and hide. Preferably in a place that had a bathtub, so I could sit there and scrub the filth and shame from me. But along came Caine. He scooped me up

and plopped me down in his life.” She smiled wryly. “You know him. He just has a way of moving forward and taking everyone with him. He treated me like

a wife. He had expectations of me as a wife, in and out of the bedroom. In some ways it was a godsend to have such a clear path laid out for me. I didn’t

have to think. I just had to be the woman he saw me as. And when it was al said and done, it worked, because al along he’d been seeing me.”

“I’m not Caine. And Ari isn’t you.”

Her expression became even more stubborn. “But the circumstances are the same.”

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t walk in there and play husband to a woman who would cringe at the thought of his touch. Who would scream

when he rol ed over in bed and put his arm around her and pul ed her close. “I’m her worst nightmare.”

“You’re the only one who can do it. You’re the only one who can take away the horror and make it right.”

“And how in hel am I supposed to do that? Terrify her into being a proper wife?”

“I don’t know. I just know that she trusts you, and her healing started with you.”

“And now my part is done.”

Boone got to his feet, sensing his mistress’s tension. A low growl rumbled from his throat. As she dropped her hand to his head, the dog

looked at Desi and then at Tracker. His face sagged, the wrinkles tumbling into a mournful expression, and he whined anxiously.

“Are you tel ing me you don’t care for her, Tracker?”

How did he answer that one? Whether he cared for her or not had no bearing on anything.

“Wel ?”

“She’s going to hate me.”

“But she’l get wel .”

At what cost?

Desi pressed her point. “Don’t you want that?”

Hell, yes.
He wanted that more than anything.
Shit.
“Anyone ever tel you you’re a dirty fighter?”

“Just Caine.”

“Let me add my name to the list.”

“Wil you do it?”

He slapped his hat against his thigh. Dust flew up. Desi waved her hand in front of her face and coughed.

He was going to hel for worse things. At least something good would come out of this. He put his hand on the doorknob.

Desi licked her lips. “Tracker?”

“It’s too late to be nervous, Desi. You put Ari in my hands and there she’s going to stay. No interference.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to take a bath. Have someone send over hot water.”

“A bath?”

“Yes.” Among other things.

“And after that?”

He turned the knob, feeling that crash of doom descending. “I’m going to have dinner.”

Heat and stale air surrounded him as soon as he stepped into the house.

“Go away.”

Ari’s voice sounded just as stale as the air. Tracker trailed the sound to the bedroom at the back of the house. In the dim light, he could

see her seated in a hard-backed chair by the bed. She was ful y dressed. Her hair was loose around her shoulders in a wanton tumble that made his

fingers itch to sink into the silken mass. He loved her hair, loved the way it curled around his fingers in welcome. Loved the image of life it gave. Even now,

when she sat as stil as a statue, with her hands folded in her lap and her skirts in neat folds over her thighs, not even looking at him. But even in the dim

light, he could see the pulse pounding in her throat.

“Don’t I even get a welcome home?”

The only indication she gave that she knew it was him was a smal start. It beat the hel out of her running screaming from the room. “Hel o,

Tracker.”

“Hel o, yourself.”

She looked at him. “Have you seen Miguel?”

“Have you?”

She shook her head and turned her face away. “They don’t bring him around me.”

Interesting choice of words. “So you decided your best option was to sit with the curtains drawn, passing the time counting dust motes?”

She didn’t have an answer for that. He could see why Desi had passed the job of dealing with Ari to him. It was eerie, talking to this

woman who was so distant, so polite, so not there. “You did me proud, sweets.”

“Thank you.” She picked at her skirt. “They took your pistol.”

“Caine wil give it back.”

“I met him.”

Tracker took another step into the room. “Did you meet Desi, too?”

Her mouth thinned. “Yes.”

“Good.” He didn’t ask about the others, remembering Desi’s explanation that they were giving Ari room.

He was supposed to be playing the husband. He might as wel play it al the way.

Tossing his hat onto the corner of the four-poster, he sat on the end of the bed. He started tugging on his boots. “Desi looks just like you,

doesn’t she?”

“She’s older than me.”

“Uh-huh.” He pretended to have a difficulty with the boot. “Come help me with this.”

“No.” Stil that same flat voice. Stil that lack of emotion. He was getting an idea of what Desi meant when she said Ari wouldn’t talk.

He put a bit of mean in his voice. “I wasn’t asking.” Ari didn’t move. He wondered how far she intended to take this resistance. How far he

would have to go. “Now.”

The pulse in her throat beat faster. He waited. Her hands clenched in her lap. Anger or fear? She stood, straightened her skirt and then

walked over. There was no heat in her expression, though. So, not anger. Fear. He stuck out his leg. She stood unmoving, a ghost of her former vibrant

self.

He twirled his finger in a circle. “Just face away, straddle my leg and tug the boot off from the heel.”

“I know what to do.”

“Then how come you’re not doing it?”

“Do you want me naked or clothed?”

That was a declaration of war, throwing her past between them. A woman bent over to take off a man’s boot would be vulnerable in al

kinds of ways to abuse. A man could make her feel ashamed in al kinds of ways. Tracker remembered what Desi had said about Caine’s expectations

giving her guidance. He just didn’t have a clue as to what a decent woman would expect, let alone what Ari was thinking.

“What do you think I’l like better?”

She started unbuttoning her blouse. Tracker didn’t say a word. He recognized a dare when one was thrown in his face. Al there was to do

was wait to see how far she meant to take this, and determine from there where he needed to go with it. The blouse slid off her shoulders. She had pretty

shoulders. Nicely squared, slender with very elegant lines. The skirt was next. With the nonchalance of a whore, she let it drop. She stood there in her

petticoats, watching him watch her. He didn’t try to hide his erection. It was a knee-jerk reaction to a pretty woman, but he didn’t feel desire. This was just

…sad.

The petticoats were next. They slid to the floor with the same lack of ceremony as the skirt. Tracker expected hesitation when Ari got to

the bloomers. But they came off along with the camisole in the way of a woman who’d undressed for men many times. And he supposed she had. With no

modesty and no care. His cock throbbed and his heart ached as she revealed her body. He’d dreamed of it many times, but never like this. He wanted to

cal a halt, but sometimes when it came to pain, a body just had to ride it out. And Ari had a lot of pain.

He stuck out his foot. “You ready yet?”

There was a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. Good. Let her think about what he wanted from her, because it sure as shit wasn’t this. She

turned, straddled his foot, giving him a clear view of her ass. It was even more of a work of art naked. A surprisingly ful curve accentuated by creamy white

skin. The crease between those sweet buttocks tempted him to trace it with his finger. When she bent over he got a peek at her pussy, lightly covered by

blond hair. One thing was for sure, this wasn’t arousing her. Thank God.

He jiggled his foot. “Wel ?”

She grabbed the heel and tugged. Nothing happened.

“You’l have to do better than that. I don’t wear boots often, so when I do they tend to cling.”

She put more force behind it. He could just catch a glimpse of the jiggle of her breasts. His cock didn’t care about the higher purpose, it

just responded to the magic of those beauties in motion. The boot came off. She stood. A touch of red colored her breasts and cheeks. He held up his

other foot. Without a word, she straddled that leg and repeated the procedure. When she was done, she picked up his boots and put them by the door. He

wondered what man had taught her that. She came back and stood before him, stil naked, the only indication of any feeling whatsoever being that slight

blush, which could be put down to exertion.

“Thank you.”

Her gaze dropped to his groin. There was no hiding his erection. She licked her lips. Two steps forward and she was on her knees, and

her hands were at the laces of his pants. Son of a bitch. She was pushing him. But which way was he supposed to jump? He waited. She lifted his cock

free of the leather. A knock at the door saved his ass. Stroking his hand over her hair, he said, “Hold that thought.”

Retying his pants, he tugged his shirt over his hips, hiding his erection. He left the bedroom and went to the front door and opened it.

Outside two men stood, carrying a large brass tub between them. “Hey, Caden, Ace.”

“Good to see you didn’t get your ass shot off,” Caden grunted.

“For a horse.” Ace shook his head.

“
My
horse,” Tracker corrected, standing back and letting them through.

“Where do you want it?”

There weren’t many options in the smal house. The sitting room and kitchen were one room. The bedroom was too smal . Besides, Ari

was there, naked. “Over to the right there.”

“Tia said to tel you she’s got water heating, but if you plan on doing this too often, you need to get your own firewood in.”

“I’l be sure to thank her.” Tia always grumbled about the work of the ranch, but the truth was, she thrived on the chal enge of organizing the

growing spread.

“Ed said not to worry about it.” Caden laughed, a shock of brown hair fal ing over his forehead, giving him that look of trouble that women

seemed to love. “Course, he only said that to get Tia going.”

“Those two stil fighting?”

“Yup. Tia’s stil playing hard to get.”

“And Ed’s stil enjoying the chase?”

For six years Ed had been trying to get Tia to marry him.

“Some things never change.” Ace grunted as he set down his side of the tub.

Metal rattled against wood as Caden set down his end, then straightened. His blue eyes were serious. Not an unusual thing for Caden,

but usual y they were angry, too. He turned and left the house.

Ace was Caden’s total opposite—blond-haired with a muscled leanness, and gray eyes that could go stone cold at the drop of a hat. A