Dragging her gaze back up the path it had traveled over skin that was smooth and sun-bronzed, she wondered how that was possible given that there was still snow in the foothills. Oh, yes, he was an outlaw, part of the Reyes Brothers. A gang that operated somewhere south along the Mexican border where it must stay warm all year long. It was strange and more than a little infuriating that she had to keep reminding herself he was an outlaw. He might not look like Ship and his men, but he was that type of man. Transient, irresponsible, reckless...everything that she didn’t want.
“Do you want me to go, Emmaline?” Thankfully, Glory’s voice broke into her inappropriate thoughts about the man before her.
“Yes, please, just for a little while.” She wanted the woman to stay, but was a bit afraid and ashamed of what might come up in their conversation. While she was mad at him and intended to let him know just how much, she also needed to clear her conscience. She had left him unconscious in the wilderness and she wanted to apologize. The irony didn’t escape her that he had kidnapped her and she was the one feeling guilty. But the reality was that she really did wish they had met under other circumstances, that he wasn’t an outlaw and that they could be free to explore their strange and wonderful connection.
And, yes, if she was being honest, she wanted to kiss him one last time as she told him goodbye. Was that so terrible?
Glory squeezed her shoulder, and turned to go, her footsteps muffled as she crossed the thick carpet, then closed the door behind her. The metallic click of the lock was unmistakable in the silence of the room. Glory shrieked in anger, her voice muffled a bit through the door as she cursed the giant outside to every ring of hell. His answering deep laugh chilled her to the bone, but she couldn’t focus on that because her captor stood before her.
“You have some nerve having your henchman lock me in here.” Emmaline glared at the almost naked man in front of her.
The giant had been waiting outside her bedroom door when she’d walked out to find the room where Glory had told her Jameson was staying. She had ignored him, intent on the idea that she was free, but he had shadowed her the entire way, never hindering her progress or saying a word. Apparently he’d just been biding his time.
“Zane does what he wants. I don’t think I have to remind you that you came here of your own will.” Jameson moved forward into the room and she backed up, keeping a steady distance between them.
“That’s right, I came here to talk to you. There was no reason to lock me in.” She crossed her arms over her chest, wishing that she had changed clothes. She felt so exposed in the virginal robe with its deep neck and high slits up each leg, but she hadn’t even been thinking of that.
He stopped walking when he reached the foot of the bed and leaned back against the curved, mahogany footboard. “Talk.” One word. An order. His face gave nothing away, save his restrained anger, as he watched her.
Nodding to indicate his towel, she asked, “Don’t you want to get dressed first?”
“No. I want you to talk.”
The skin on the back of her neck prickled as if it was stretched too tight and her cheeks suddenly felt too hot. She gritted her teeth to bite back an angry retort and forced herself to remain calm, remembering why she had come to see him and that, despite Zane, she could leave when she wanted. Glory had gunmen ready to help her if needed. In fact, the woman would probably be back with them any moment.
To keep herself calm, she turned away from him and took her first good look at the bedroom. Decorated in shades of cream and muted blue, it was tasteful if a little on the dramatic side with its heavy, dark wood furniture. It held a writing table with an overstuffed chair upholstered in rich blue fabric pin-striped with gold, a bureau, an armoire and the oversized four-poster bed with spindly-legged bedside tables each holding a crystal lantern. There were windows on either side of the bed hung with heavy dark blue drapes that were pulled shut.
It was a perfectly civilized room. He was the only uncivilized thing in it.
There was such an air of wildness about him that she shivered and debated the merits of talking to him at all. The contrast of his clean-shaven jaw paired with his still damp hair, hastily towel dried and pushed back with his fingers, and the fury blazing in his eyes, made him appear as dangerous as she knew him to be. Somehow the effect only made her heart flutter. He was even more handsome than he had been at the cavern, as the shave had emphasized his strong jaw and the barely there indention at the bottom of his chin.
He looked restrained, just waiting for the moment she might step too close.
“I’m not ‘yours’, Jameson,” she finally said once she’d gotten a handle on her temper, emphasizing his name because it was one less layer between them. “The contract I signed gave me the choice to accept the bid or not.”
“You forget, Emmaline...it’s not the contract that makes you mine.” His green-gold eyes darkened and captured hers in that way he had that made her belly flutter.
She blinked to escape his spell and shook her head. “I escaped you.”
“You did, until I found you.”
“We’re not in the middle of the wilderness anymore. You can’t take me back, not here, not with all of these people.”
One corner of his mouth tipped upward, but he didn’t challenge her. He was so damned confident he didn’t have to. Panic flared within her for one brief moment before she managed to get a hold of it and remind herself of all the reasons he wouldn’t get away with her. Deciding not to give rise to her anger and tempt an already unstable situation, she changed tactics.
“I came to see you because I wanted to tell you I’m sorry that I had to put sleeping powders in your flask. I didn’t want things to go that way between us, but I had to get away. I’m sure you understand my desperation.” She waited what she thought was an appropriate amount of time, but he said nothing. She hadn’t exactly expected a noble acceptance of her apology, but when a flicker of acknowledgment didn’t so much as cross his face, her anger boiled over. “Well...” she prompted.
He raised his eyebrows in question.
“This is the point in the conversation where you accept my apology and—”
“Accept your apology?” he scoffed. “For drugging me and leaving me in the wilderness at the mercy of any animal or criminal who wanted to pick me off? No, I do not accept.” He pushed off the footboard and took a threatening step toward her.
“How can you not accept?” Tightening her hands into fists at her sides, she attempted to keep the reins on her fury. “You were perfectly safe. You said yourself that your brothers were returning that night and it appears that they found you.”
“A man had just tried to kill us. For all you knew he was going to come back with his friends before nightfall to finish the task.”
“Oh, that’s ridiculous! I shot him for you.”
He laughed and it made her so angry she wanted to strangle him. “You don’t know there weren’t others close by.”
“One: If he had come back to finish the task he would have found your horse gone and followed the tracks to look for you, which put me in greater danger than you. He wouldn’t have known you were on the mountain to climb up there and look for you. Two: You kidnapped me! Is there some etiquette I’m unaware of that says I’m supposed to get permission from my kidnapper before escaping?”
“Before trying to escape, you mean?” He grinned, making her suspect that he wasn’t taking this seriously at all.
“I did escape. You had no idea where I was, until... How did you know I was here?”
He just kept stalking closer. “You can’t get away from me.”
She wasn’t sure if he meant escape in general or in this room right now. Either way, she took a step back and stifled the panic threatening to claw its way up her throat and escape in a scream. “But I did get away from you.”
&n
bsp; “Briefly. I admit you got the best of me. I wasn’t expecting to be drugged, especially not after you sat astride my lap and kissed me so sweetly, but it won’t happen again now that I know what you’re capable of doing.” His gaze flicked down to her chest and he nodded toward the place where her locket used to be. “Looks as if you’ve lost your locket.”
“You left me no choice. I won’t be a pawn in whatever game you and Ship are playing. I’m sorry he took someone from you, but I won’t be a part of this.”
“You already are. The message has been sent and he thinks that we have you.” He came closer as he talked, slowly as if drawing it out.
Her heart pounded faster with each step because she had no idea what he planned to do once he reached her. It wasn’t fear that made it pound. It was excitement. With every step it strummed through her veins, settling low in her belly, especially as she had become more aware of the bulge beneath his towel and the heady way his eyes pulled her in. Her resistance was hanging by a thread and he hadn’t even alluded to anything physical happening between them.
Bumping up against the low back of the chair that sat at the writing table, she held her hand out to ward him off. “Stop, you don’t have to come any closer for us to talk.”
He did stop, but not until he’d walked right up so that his warm skin pressed against her palm. Her fingers settled into the indentation chiseled between the twin muscles defining his chest. Immediately her throat dried and her breathing increased. The contact sent a blaze of seductive warmth from her fingertips all the way through her body to where it settled in her core, pulsing as it waited for his touch.
This was bad. This was very, very bad.
“We’re finished talking, Emmy.”
Chapter Eleven
“No, we’re not finished talking.”
“Yes, we are. You ran from me. You led me on a wild chase and, what’s worse, you left yourself vulnerable to ruthless men who would hurt you.” He ran a hand through his drying hair in agitation and his fingers shook slightly. It was the first time she realized exactly how furious she had made him by running, but, instead of scaring her, the knowledge sent an inexplicable thrill of desire through her belly. “So you see, I can’t decide if I should throw you over the bed and spank you, or throw you over the bed and take you because you’ve been looking at me like that’s exactly what you want and I can’t get it out of my head that I bought you.”
She slapped him. It was a reflex that happened before she could stop it or even question it. The crack of skin on skin filled the room, drowning out everything else until it faded away leaving only the tense weight of silence.
Touching the imprint of her hand on his cheek, he shook his head, a low laugh escaping him. “Damn, but you’re not making it an easy choice.”
She let out a shaky breath, half-sigh, half-groan, as she realized in his answer exactly what she had done. She hadn’t slapped him because he’d offended her, though he had, she’d slapped him to prove to herself once and for all that he was just like those horrible men Ship brought home with him. None of them had ever struck her, but only because she had never pushed them that far. If she had slapped them, they wouldn’t have stood for it. By slapping Jameson she was trying to prove to herself that he was exactly like those men, even if he didn’t appear to be on the surface. If she could prove that to herself, then she could stop her perplexing desire for him.
But he wasn’t like them and his next words proved it.
“Get the hell out of here, Emmy.” His voice had lowered to almost a growl, but he was allowing her to leave with no retribution.
What the hell was wrong with her that she didn’t want to leave? It was as if striking him had released the valve on her anger, so that it seeped out, leaving room for everything else she was feeling to grow and take its place. He hadn’t yet touched her, but her body was alive as if he had. The very idea of him throwing her across the bed had lit her up inside and made her realize that this might be her last encounter with him. No one else had ever been able to make her feel these things.
What if she walked out of here tomorrow and spent the rest of her life never knowing what his touch could do to her if she let it? What if no one else ever could make her feel like him?
So instead of leaving, like a sane person would, or even giving voice to her desire, she stayed. Backing away until she pressed so hard into the chair’s back that it moved forward a little on the carpet, she shook her head. “We’re not finished.”
He clenched his jaw, his eyes humorless and full of warning, desire and all manner of dark things. “You really want that spanking, don’t you?”
Her intimate muscles clenched at his words. Then when she dared to imagine his hand on her bare bottom, caressing and touching, a flood of damp heat accompanied the action. “No.” She shook her head and paused before continuing, “Not the spanking.”
His nostrils flared as if scenting her capitulation and his gaze shot to hers, pinning her in place. Pressing her thighs together, she shifted under the weight of his scrutiny and felt the tell-tale moisture from her arousal on the tender skin between her legs.
“Emmy.” Her name was almost a groan on his lips. “This isn’t the time. You’ve made me too angry.” Yet even as he warned her away, he stepped closer, the movement slow and measured. The tension moved like a tangible wave from his body, touching her skin and thrilling her. This was his last effort to make her leave; she could sense his near capitulation. But he didn’t know how much she wanted him.
Her gaze stopped on his mouth, fixated on his full bottom lip. Standing just inches from her now, warming her front with the heat from his body, he was so close that she had to crane her neck to look at him.
“You’ve no reason to be angry. I’m the one who’s been wronged.”
His large hands had already grasped her hips, strong fingers digging in gently as he pulled her across the tiny gap toward him. She grabbed his biceps and a secret thrill shot through her at how hard they were. She just wanted to run her hands all over his body and feel how hard he was everywhere.
“I still think what we said in the cavern holds true. We can be friends after this is over.” She meant to say more, to explain how badly she felt about having to put the powders in his flask, how she had really meant everything she had said to him. But he took her words away by kissing her and she didn’t even mind.
Letting her hips go, he cradled her head and tilted it upward so that he could deepen the kiss. His tongue pressed inside, brushing hers and she couldn’t help but kiss him back. It had been days since she had kissed him. Days of remembering the simple pleasure of his mouth and missing it and coming to terms with never having it again. But now here was that pleasure returned to her, washing over her again, turning her into a puddle of need and want and desire and she didn’t even care. She just wanted. She wanted everything he could give her without having to think of all the reasons she shouldn’t have it.
Just as her fingers were curling into the damp hair at the nape of his neck, just as her tongue had begun to tease with his, just as she was noticing that he always seemed to taste of whiskey, he pulled back a hairbreadth. His breath came in heavy pants that filled the space between them. “It’s impossible. We’ll never be friends.”
“What?” Wits scattered by the kiss coupled with his unexpected words, she shook her head to focus on him.
“We can’t be friends,” he repeated. “Not after you drugged me, not after you ran.”
That cleared her thoughts. Pulling back the few inches she had so that her back was pressed to the chair again, she glared up at him. “You kidnapped me! And you have the nerve to be upset about the fact that I escaped?”
“Come on, Emmy. You seduced me so that you could drug me. You expect me to be fine with that?”
The pain of his rejection surprised her.
He must have seen the pain on her face, because his voice gentled as he spoke. “Don’t lie to me. I won’t let you. Not now.”
“I never planned to seduce you. I only intended to earn your trust, to get close enough to give you the sleeping powders. Everything else...just happened.” The kissing, the things she had revealed to him. She hadn’t had to pretend anything because he’d made her feel safe enough to be who she was. The kissing had happened because she genuinely liked him, or thought she did at the time.
“And yet you left me anyway. You knew I wouldn’t hurt you by then, but you left me unconscious.”
That was the moment she realized that she’d hurt more than his pride when she left. Was it possible that he’d felt something more for her? That he still did? Laying one last olive branch at his feet, she reminded him, “You kidnapped me. I had to get away.”
“I didn’t know you when I took you.”
“Just kiss me,” she ordered. None of this mattered anymore.
“Emmy.” It was that low warning again, but she didn’t care to heed it.
“Fine, we can’t be friends. I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”
His hands dropped back to her waist and he stepped forward until her hips were pressed back against the plush fabric of the chair’s back. The harsh pant of his breath filled her ear and she became aware of that very aroused male part of him, impossibly large and unyielding against her belly. Her body immediately responded to him, flooding the ache between her thighs with more wet heat as she throbbed to the beat of her heart.
“Dammit, what do you want?” His voice was ragged as the weight of his right hand moved up from her waist to pause at her rib cage, just under the curve of her breast. The strength in his body restrained as he awaited her answer.
He was staring at her mouth, making her feel the touch of his lips from the weight of that stare. She wanted them on her and for the first time in her life, she allowed the rational part of her to lie quiet.
The Innocent and the Outlaw (Outlaws of the Wild West) Page 12