Trail of Lust (13 page)

He had to settle things with his woman with all haste. He simply couldn't go on this way—spending only the nights with her and not properly claiming her as his. Because every bone in his body was possessive. It went against the grain to pretend she was only a woman he'd taken interest in and not his wife.

As he crested a knoll, he spotted the top blade of the Allens’ windmill. There was always a wind in Texas, and that thing whirred constantly. From what he could tell, it was one of the only things in perfect repair.

Old Gray, now accustomed to making his way to this plot of ground where he foraged for the sweetest grasses, surged forward. Graham couldn't help but smile at his horse's eagerness.

Patting his neck, Graham said, “I feel the same, old boy."

This time, there was no need to hobble the horse farther up in the field and go in on foot. Since it was day, he could ride up in plain sight. When he thundered into the yard, Silas appeared in the doorway of the house.

Graham assessed him in a flash. The man clung to the door frame to support himself, and he looked less meaty—as if his illness had stripped away some of his vitality.

Quickly, Graham dismounted, his heart tripping when he glimpsed the auburn head behind Silas.

Coming forward, he extended a hand to Kathleen's father.

"Good to see you, Hollis. What's brought you this way today?"

Graham pumped his hand, aware of the slight tremor that trickled from Silas's hand into his. He looked over the man's head and locked gazes with Kathleen. The breath whooshed from him. Damn, those cornflower-blue eyes could deal a more powerful blow than any man's fist.

"Afternoon, Mr. Allen. Miss Allen.” He tipped his hat to her, and a rosy glow spread over her beautiful face.

"Come in, come in. Kathleen will get you a cool drink. After your ride in that heat, you'll need it.” Silas moved slowly into the house, his back more hunched than the last time Graham had seen him.

Kathleen stole a look at Graham from beneath her long lashes before turning her back and disappearing into the larder. It was all he could do to keep from staring at the place where she'd emerge, his heart thumping with joy.

And to see her in broad daylight... Well, after the war, he didn't think he could ever again be that man who was all tied up in knots.

Silas sank to a chair before the fireplace and gestured for Graham to have a seat too. He took up the wooden chair, careful about the wobbly leg. The gorgeous blue velvet parlor furniture he'd last seen in a shop window in San Antonio flitted through his mind. Kathleen should have that. He was going to give it to her.

Silas struck up a conversation about the dry weather and how wearing it was on the cattle. Graham was able to navigate the topic without thought—he'd had the same talk with his family often enough. As they talked, he kept one eye on the larder. What was Kathleen doing?

Just then she came out, smiling and flushed. Graham's heart flipped at the sight of her pink cheeks and glittering eyes. A happy woman. Had he made her as happy as she'd made him in the short time she'd been part of his life?

He stood to accept the drink from her. Curling his fingers around her slender ones, he stared right into her eyes. “Thank you, miss.” He stressed the miss, hoping she didn't take offense by his use of it. To him, she was his wife—Mrs. Graham Hollis.

Her full pink lips tilted up in a crooked smile, as if she tried to hide it. She quickly dropped her gaze. “Mr. Hollis."

Silas spoke up. “Kathleen has been cooped up in this house far too long. I've been in bed with a sickness, and she's waited on me hand and foot. A finer daughter I couldn't have asked for."

Graham returned to the chair and brought the wooden cup filled with tea to his lips. The sweetness danced on his taste buds, and the cool liquid quenched his thirst.

But not his hunger for Kathleen. He had to get her alone. Soon.

He crossed his ankle over his knee, hoping to distract from the bulge at the front of his pants. Judging from Kathleen's expression, she'd noticed.

As long as Silas doesn't. The last thing I need is a fight on my hands with the man I need to win over.

Silas continued to talk about the price of feed and how hard it was to get good leather boots in their parts. At his age, he didn't want to make a trip to San Antonio even once a year, and did Graham know that the new town had a doc?

Graham listened with half an ear, answering his questions and filling in spaces in the conversation with politeness, but all he wanted was Kathleen. Up against the wall. Bent over a hay bale. Tumbling in the grass.

In the soft down of her mattress.

Speak up now, and it can be your mattress too. Claim her to the old man and settle in as a permanent resident.

Silence descended. Graham looked between father and daughter, noting the same expression of mirth in their bright eyes. Had he been asked a question and missed it?

He cleared his throat and downed the last of his sweet tea. Kathleen came forward at once to take his cup. Graham's cock burned with need. The touch of her gaze, the brief meeting of their fingers around the smooth wood, were too swift. He needed more. Now.

Kathleen seemed to pick up on this immediately. “Pa, you're looking a little worn out. Would you like me to help you to bed?"

"Ohh, I couldn't do that with company here!"

Graham nodded. “You're just out of your sick bed, sir. Please don't let me keep you from gaining the rest you need to make a full recovery. I'll make sure the chores are done and anything else that needs tending to."

Silas gained his feet, wobbling slightly. “Well, that Jenkins is somewhere around here. But if you don't mind lending a hand, I could give you an honest day's wages—"

"Nonsense,” Graham said, using a tone that brooked no argument. “We're neighbors. I have time to spare, and you could use a hand. Allow me to share my strong back."

Kathleen's eyes positively glowed as she gazed up at him. He afforded himself one long look at her, drinking in the sight of the white arch of her throat above the prim blue dress she wore. Her lips parted on what he thought might be a sigh, all her features softening with an expression he didn't dare to interpret. He couldn't hope for the things he thought he saw in her eyes.

She ripped her gaze from his, turning her face aside. “Let me help you to bed, Pa.” She wrapped her arm around her father's drooping shoulders and turned him toward one of the two doors leading from the main room.

When they vanished into what must be the bedroom, Graham clenched his hands into fists, staring at the other door. The door that housed Kathleen's bed. Primitive urges nestled low in his groin even as a longing rose up—to see her stretched out on her bed, wearing that same look she'd just given him.

Fuck, how was he going to keep himself from attacking her? Last night without her had been one of the longest in his life.

A few moments later, she emerged from the room, closing the door behind her. They faced each other a few paces away.

Warmth spread through him, slow as molasses; sweeter, though.

"He's tuckered out. I expect he dropped off the minute his head hit the pillow,” she said quietly.

Her voice reverberated in his soul, but her words troubled him. He ran his knuckles over his jaw, making a rasping noise. “Christ, Kathleen, you said he was unwell, but I never guessed he was that bad. He looks worn to the bone."

She nodded. “I don't know what ailment took him, but the doc said he'd make a recovery, and he has. Now he'll just need to gain his strength."

A lump bobbed in Graham's throat. “I don't want you to deal with things like that on your own anymore."

Hope shot across her features like a blazing sun in the sky. “So you've come to stay?"

Heart plummeting, he pressed his lips into a fine line. “Not yet, darlin'. I promise it won't be long, though."

Clear disappointment tinged her feminine features, but she forced a smile anyway. “Well, I'm glad you're here now."

In one step, he was with her, wrapping her close, bending to her mouth. Molding her lips to his, he held the kiss, trying to pump all the emotions he felt into her. Soon he'd give her more words he knew she craved. Tender words.
Love words.

He should feel shock that this sudden revelation came over him—that he loved this woman—but he'd known from the start it wasn't only possible but probable. Inevitable. Bella wouldn't want him to suffer for eternity, would she? She'd never ask him to live a lonely day if he could have a full life.

Slanting his mouth over hers, he drank from her, tasting her inner depths and sharing a low moan. She twisted her little fist in the front of his shirt, going onto tiptoe, clinging to him.

The touch of her tongue ignited him. All too well, he imagined that wet tongue on his body...on his cock.

He splayed a hand over her lower back, stretching his fingers to caress the swell of her buttocks. And the blasted woman wiggled. She
wiggled!
Biting off a feral growl, he pulled away.

Distance was imperative. He couldn't be responsible for his actions if he didn't get her out of his arms. No way could he take her in this house under her father's nose. The man would certainly wake in the middle of their ecstatic embrace, and Graham would find a gun muzzle pressed against his head.

Silas Allen was no slacker. If he got it in his head to shoot Graham for toying with his daughter, Graham would be six feet under.

Kathleen looked up at him with a mixture of remorse, guilt, and passion. God, he couldn't stare at her a minute more or he'd throw her over his shoulder and make off with her. Hell, he still might.

"All right,” he said, breathing heavily. “Let's take a walk."

"A walk?"

"Yes, care to take a turn with me, Mrs. Hollis?” He kept his voice low and could see his words did things to her—affected her, softened her more.

His cock stiffened further, straining so hard he thought it would strangle within the confines of his pants.

He grabbed up her hand and pressed a hasty kiss to her knuckles, tasting sweet skin, lavender, and a dusting of flour. Her gaze snapped to his as he caressed her in this new way that somehow felt more intimate than all they'd shared before.

She issued a throaty sigh. “I'd love to walk with you, Mr. Hollis."

He released her hand. “Good. You don't need a wrapper—it's a lovely day. But you might want a hat to keep your nose from burning."

She opened her mouth as if to say something but shut it quickly and went into her bedroom to retrieve her hat. In a blink, she was by his side again. He led her out into the warm day, and though he loved their moonlit interludes, he couldn't get enough of seeing his flower kissed by the sun.

Kathleen tucked her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her shins. Peering at Graham, she held her breath. For an hour, it seemed he'd been trying to tell her something. He'd alternately kissed her breathless and stared at her with a crinkle in his brow. But he hadn't said more than two words to her. What was going on beneath that black cowboy hat of his, which was pulled so low she couldn't see his eyes?

They'd taken their stroll around the ranch in broad daylight. Then Graham had come back home with her and shared the dinner meal, sitting with her and her father as if they were a family.

After that, he'd ridden back to the Hollis ranch with the promise to return after her father fell asleep. True to his word, Graham had appeared by the barn, shadowed by the eave. She'd run outside with a basket filled with fresh peach-custard tarts and a cask of sweet tea.

The basket had been set aside after Graham said the only thing he was hungry for was her—yet, he hadn't touched her in the way she hoped.

The moon was high and full, shedding light on the man she'd come to feel so much for in a very short time.

She gazed at his thick shoulders and the rounded muscles of his chest beneath his simple cotton shirt. The dark hair sprouting on his jaw inspired images of his mouth trailing kisses down her belly to her sensitive folds.

Squirming, she tucked her knees up tighter to her chest.

Finally, he spoke. “I'm sorry I wasn't here to help with your father, Kathleen."

She straightened. That was the furthest thing from her mind right now, and his admission startled her.

He pulled his hat off and set it aside, gazing at her with that hard glint in his eyes—the look he'd first come to her with—the one that meant he was battling something deep inside.

Her heart throbbed with love for him. In the few short days they'd been husband and wife, he'd opened up to her, shown her his softer, more playful side. Now the brooding man who still fought his demons had returned.

"Don't be sorry for that, Graham,” she said softly. “We got along fine. Pa's on the mend."

He nodded. “Yeah, but I should have been the one to accompany you to town, not some employee!” He thumped his thigh with a fist.

"How did you know Jenkins accompanied me to town?"

"My brother saw you."

She felt her features shift and change as the memory of the Hollis man on the boardwalk flitted through her head. Unfortunately, Graham was watching her closely. And he didn't like what he saw.

In one swift movement, he slammed her back into the turf, cradling her head so she didn't strike it. He hovered over her, his body fully upon hers, showing her just how big and overwhelming he was. Didn't he know it wasn't his body but his personality that blocked the sun? Eclipsed the moon?

"Graham—"

"You're mine, Kathleen. Dammit, I'm sorry I haven't claimed you proper yet, but I swear—” He broke off, the muscle jumping in his jaw. His golden-brown eyes shot sparks. “Soon."

Gliding a hand down her side to her hip, he kneaded the hollow spot above her hipbone that sent shocks of lust through her. Moisture pooled between her thighs.

She tugged on the hair at the back of his neck. “Then show me now where I belong.” Her bold words were accompanied by a blush. But he grinned—that boyish, carefree smile she'd seen in the barn a few nights ago.