Trail of Lust (3 page)

She strolled past the barn entrance and glanced inside.

"Come, Kathleen. See the new addition to the barn,” her father called out.

She halted in her tracks and started into the structure, blinded for a moment by the dimness. Once her eyes adjusted, she easily made out Graham's tall form. He moved toward the stall, his fists clenched and his hat pulled low over his eyes.

Was he glaring at her?

She tried to appear indifferent to the touch of his gaze, but her insides quivered. In the short time since she'd set eyes on him, she'd made up her mind she wanted a man exactly like him. Or, more particularly,
him.

She carefully avoided looking at him, though every inch of her flesh rose to his presence. Instead, she peered into the stall at the newborn calf, which had gained its feet and stood with legs splayed outward.

It was impossible not to smile at the sight of the dear little face, its long lashes bristly over its newly opened eyes. She moved into the stall and stroked Clarabell's nose. “Well done, my beauty,” she crooned.

Glancing up, she caught Graham's sharp movement as he tugged his hat lower. Another notch and it would be completely pulled over his nose.

A laugh bubbled up her throat and trickled out. She turned back to the cow, trying to disguise her slip as meant for the beasts.
It is meant for a beast of a different breed.

She struggled to draw breath as she realized this was exactly the reason she was so drawn to Graham. He was no ordinary man. She knew enough of his past to know pain still clutched him tightly. It was etched around his mouth and in the depths of his golden-brown eyes. Even before the war, Graham had stood out from the happy-go-lucky Hollis bunch. Something about his darkness had always called to her.

He took a hasty step toward her and then drew up short. But not before her father caught the gesture.

"I'm surprised you're not abed, Kathleen,” Pa said. He shot a glance at Graham out of the corner of his eye. “She enjoys walks in the moonlight and is often up until all hours."

Her heart thrilled, and she suddenly felt hot and cold, jittery. Her pa was giving Graham important information, providing him an opportunity to return and find her alone. She fought her smile, wanting to run to her father and hug him tight.

"A fine calf, Pa. Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Hollis.” She drifted past him, aware of his scent and the energy rolling off him in waves. “I'll be inside. I've got some baking to do."

She left the barn. This time, she had no urge to look over her shoulder to see if Graham's gaze followed her. Because she knew this evening when she was out walking through the high grasses and staring at the stars, she'd have company.

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Graham paced before the stable in the late evening hours, driving his boot heels into the earth and cutting divots. It did nothing to lighten his mood. The insatiable need to sink his fists into something hard rose up in his mind.

As often happened when he was in a passion, images flitted in his mind, rapid-fire scenes that brought more torment than ease.
Yanking a man off his feet and driving his knife into his chest, leaving the blade quivering as Graham ran on into the battle. Blue coats coming at them, marching on and on, the fear sucking at Graham's chest as he stared at the sea of faces—men he was about to kill.

Bella's dark eyes rolling up in her head...

"Fuck!” He slammed his fist into the side of the stable, causing the board to shake beneath the force. His knuckles split and burned as blood oozed from the cuts. He struck the board again, hoping to crush through it this time and in some way alleviate the painful emotion pounding through his veins.

That woman looked nothing like his deceased wife, Bella, and yet she was in his blood the same way.

Kathleen.

"Damn little temptress.” He muttered it to the darkness, but inside the stables, his horse whickered in answer. The noise inspired images of him flying across the plains, the breeze filling his nostrils, and the horse's hooves drumming in time to his heart.

The sound galvanized him. He had to go see her again.

Cradling his stinging knuckles, he went inside the stable and with only the light of the moon to guide him, saddled his steed. Old Gray had fought with him, seen him through the last few years of war. The speckled gray coat of his horse shivered as he settled the saddle atop the beast's back.

He crooned to the horse while he adjusted the straps. At the end, he'd only had Old Gray to talk to. He and his cousin Xander had been split up and sent to two different cavalry regiments to fill in where they were shorthanded. By then, Bella had been in the grave over a year.

Don't think of her.

He swung up into the saddle, and Old Gray danced sideways, thumping the wooden feed box with his flank. Graham stroked the horse's neck and leaned over to speak softly to him. “You're as skittish as I am tonight. Let's gallop and get it out of our blood."

He acknowledged the reason for his troubles was one little auburn-haired woman. Dammit, if only she were still a child, he'd have no issues. He wouldn't have laid a hand on her. And he sure as hell wouldn't be traveling an hour across the plains just to see her walking with the moon's glow on her glossy hair.

He gripped the reins more tightly as they galloped across the fields, hoping to eliminate the memory of her warm, silken tresses beneath his fingers. Her braid had felt like a living creature as it slid through his palm. And her lips—

Stop.

He swung his head right and left, searching for dangers. In this part of the country, a man never could be too careful. There were outlaws and bands of thieves roaming the lands, killing and pilfering. Indians and wild animals also supplied their share of the worry pie. Was it even safe for Kathleen to walk outside alone in the dark?

For him, it was never safe. During the war, he'd turned over a traitor named Wabash to his superiors, and the man had been imprisoned ever since. However, it was rumored he'd escaped and was making his way to South Texas. To find Graham. Yet another reason not to get tangled up with Miss Allen. Until Wabash was dead, Graham couldn't bring a woman into his life.

Too late
. The voice in the back of his mind spoke with quiet force.

He dug his heels into the horse's sides, and the beast launched forward into the velvety blackness. The sweet tang of crushed grasses lifted with each rolling stride. Graham hated to admit it, but he yearned for something more—the scents of lavender and feminine musk.

Bringing his fingers to his nose, he inhaled. The faint traces of Kathleen's scent still clung to him. His cock throbbed to life. He spurred the horse faster until they galloped wildly toward the Allen ranch.

Graham's mind roved over the events of that day. After a teeth-grinding ride back to his ranch, he'd gone straight to his room and stroked his cock to completion. The flavors of Kathleen's kisses still lay on his tongue, and the feel of her body pressed tightly to his had sent him over the edge with a swiftness that stole his breath.

His cock pressed hard against his fly, demanding exit. He had to get his body under control before he rode up to the Allen property. He couldn't very well blaze in there with a raging erection and corner Kathleen—

What the hell was he doing? He should turn around immediately.

His shaft oozed precum as if taunting him to try just that. Turn around and see if he could get her out of his system. He hadn't been able to forget Bella. After one night with the lovely camp follower, he'd married her so no one else could touch her. Kathleen had the same type of hold on him.

Pain radiated through his chest. Getting the two women tangled in his mind—in his heart—would only further his misery. Bella had been his everything.

Could Kathleen be that too?

Guilt washed over him. No, there was only one Bella for him.

Again, he saw Kathleen's glowing gaze in his mind's eye. Could he expose his heart again? For a chance with her?

He'd failed Bella, and she'd paid for it with her life. He couldn't bring another woman into his life—failure had branded him permanently. He could never keep Kathleen safe either.

"Goddammit!” he yelled to the black sky. Old Gray continued to roll and shift beneath him, running full tilt in the direction Graham sent him.

By the time he reached the border of the Allen property, he was in a state of torment. Just thinking about finding Kathleen outside alone sent him into shudders of need.

He slowed Old Gray and dismounted. To keep from bringing attention to the sound of a rider, he'd tether the horse and go in on foot.

The moon reflected off the water in the horse trough and the distant pond beside the paddock. In general, the ranch was in good repair. Silas's decision to bring a young cowboy in to help was a solid one. He had no sons—something Graham's family had in abundance.

The four Hollis brothers had settled a massive piece of property, which they'd promptly divided into equal portions. Their families quickly grew—three sons to each. Not a single life lost either, even during the war. Thankfully, only two of them were old enough to participate in that losing battle. Otherwise, who knew how many Hollis lives would have been lost?

Graham shook himself. The last thing he wanted to think about now was the war. It had a way of sneaking up on him, consuming his life. Right now he wanted to focus on the stunning vision seated cross-legged in the grass, gazing up at the moon.

Deliberately, he made more noise as he approached, not wishing to frighten her. She jerked and pivoted her head toward him, the arch of her neck enticing.

"You came,” she breathed.

"You're not walking.” He dropped to his knees before her and bore her back on the grass, blanketing her fragile body with his. Lust spiked in him. He pinned her hips to the earth but supported his weight on his elbows so he could stare down into her expressive eyes.

"Graham, I don't understand the need inside me."

"I do. Kathleen...” He whispered her name, and her eyes hooded. His heart skipped a beat and then sped out of control. The hard years separating him from his dead wife had made him forget that the wooing was almost as good as the physical touches when it came to women. He could do things with words that would bring her to a state of ecstasy, if only he had a mind to.

Right now, he had to kiss her.

Dipping his head, he captured her mouth. A hitching sigh escaped her as he tasted her sweet lips. Dark need welled in his core. And if he was honest with himself, his heart. The longing he'd once known for a common woman—a camp follower, his Bella—sprang up anew, and this time his heart tripped to the beat of Kathleen's name.

Guilt rose up, strong and bright. He mashed it hard with a boot heel of passion.

Her flesh was silken against his. He'd washed up in the creek to cool off earlier in the day, but he hadn't shaved. Was he scraping her with his rough beard? He hoped so. Seeing the reddened state of her ivory skin had never seemed so desirable.

Feathering his tongue along her lower lip, he threaded his fingers into the loose hair at her temples. Holding her prisoner, he kissed her the way he wanted to.

She opened to him instantly. He plunged his tongue deep, drinking from her hot mouth, grinding his body into hers to ease the ache in his cock.

A gasp burst from her. He swallowed it, feeding her a groan. “I can't get you out of my head, sweetheart."

She wriggled beneath him, sending his desire skidding away like a runaway wagon. He chased the fine tendrils of control but lost them, giving himself up to the feel of her hands on his spine.

Before she could speak, he kissed her again, letting his tongue play over the heated walls of her mouth and the smooth planes of her teeth. Sharp, little white teeth that blinded him when she smiled.

He pulled back and nipped her lips roughly even as he nudged her thighs apart with his knee.

"Graham!” Her breathless rasp brought his head up.

He stared down into her tumultuous gaze. Her eyes were hooded with bliss, the pupils blown wide. God, how would she look when he sank into her for the first time? Or when she came apart in his arms?

Rocking his hips against hers, he fought to slow down.
Hell with that. I need to come to a full stop.

He rolled off her and lay on his back in the grass, glaring at the sky. His breathing was labored. Bella's face flashed in his mind, her delicate features blurred with Kathleen's. On the heels of that came an image of Bella as he'd last seen her, eyes frozen in death. A man he'd called comrade had taken her life to get back at him.

And another man lurked out there somewhere—Wabash, free and hunting for Graham to reap revenge.

"Graham...?” She sat up, and his gaze flicked to her.

He bit off a growl. Damn, he shouldn't have done that. She was entirely too alluring for her own good—auburn waves flowing freely around her shoulders, tousled from his touch. Her lips were swollen and ripe, begging him to attack them again.

"I'm sorry. I can't go on, miss."

"There you go apologizing again."

That brought a crooked smile to his face. The feeling of his lips turning upward shocked him. Smiles so rarely made their way to his face, it felt foreign.

He liked it entirely too much.

He sat up and rested his elbows on his knees, staring at her. “A fine observation, my lady. I don't know what it is about you that brings out my apologetic side."

"I see nothing to apologize for."

He quirked a brow at her. She smiled and dropped her gaze. Studying her features, he found them so different from Bella's—the tip of her nose perfectly upturned and her lashes long. The silvery glow of the moon trickled over the top of her head and cast shadows on her cheeks. Lavender infused his head as the wind freshened and bore her scent to him.

"Nothing at all? Is it ordinary for a man to ride up and ravage you in the grasses at midnight?"

Her smile widened, but she didn't look up at him. Instead, she trailed her fingers through the grass. His balls clenched, imagining her fingers working through the hair on his chest and lower.