by Lisa Jackson
“Get in that Jeep with you?” she challenged, though it did sound inviting, and she wished for just a second that loving Zane were simple. “That’s what got me into this mess in the first place!”
“Fine.” He tugged on the reins, and His Majesty followed docilely.
“Traitor,” Kaylie whispered to the horse, and Zane rolled down the driver’s window, climbed into the Jeep and fired the ignition.
His Majesty sidestepped. Kaylie patted the stallion’s sleek neck. “It’s okay,” she said, lying, as Zane rammed the vehicle into gear.
“Last chance,” he called, and Kaylie, though she longed to climb down from the saddle and sit in the warm interior of the Jeep, didn’t move. Zane shook his head in disgust as the rig crawled slowly forward.
Kaylie grabbed hold of the saddle horn as His Majesty started the long trek back at a fast trot. The brisk pace jarred her, and the cold, wet air seeped through her jacket, but she’d be damned if she’d complain! Gritting her teeth, she tried to keep her mind off her discomfort, though her muscles were already aching, her teeth chattering.
As the incline grew more steep, Zane slowed, letting the horse walk. Kaylie was chilled to the bone, and her arms and thighs burned mercilessly, but she refused to call out and ask Zane to stop. Rain dripped down her nose and neck. Clenching her teeth, she endured the painful journey, head high, jaw thrust forward.
After about twenty minutes, Zane muttered something unintelligible, then stood on the brakes. The Jeep ground to a halt in the gravel and mud. “This is insane,” he growled, opening his door and splashing through the puddles to His Majesty’s side. “Maybe you don’t give a damn about yourself, but you could give the horse a break!”
He pulled her from the saddle, and she landed on the ground so hard, her knees nearly gave way. Zane kept a strong arm around her. “A little wobbly?” he mocked, but there was a kindness in his features as he helped her to the Jeep. And the rain seemed to soften the hard lines surrounding his mouth. He touched her forehead, shoving a wet strand of curling hair from her eyes. “Come on, Kaylie,” he whispered, his voice so tender it nearly broke her heart, “give it up for the night.”
“I—I can’t,” she stammered.
“Sure you can.”
“But—”
“Please, love,” he insisted gently, opening the door. “It isn’t worth it.”
“How would you know?”
He rolled his eyes, and a self-effacing smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “When it comes to stubborn pride,” he admitted, “I think I wrote the book.”
His unexpected kindness pierced her pride. Tears filled her throat, and she had to grit her teeth to keep from crying as he gently lifted her into the Jeep. She sagged against him. The warmth of him, the fact that he so obviously still cared for her, perhaps loved her, caused more tears to burn in her eyes. She wanted to cling to him and never let go. Inside the Jeep, she could barely stretch out her cramped, cold muscles.
Before he slid behind the steering wheel again, Zane unsaddled the horse and tossed the saddle and blanket into the back. He found a clean, thick towel, and a worn sheepskin jacket. “Here, dry off a little,” he said, handing her the jacket and towel and turning up the heat as he shoved the rig into First.
Kaylie glanced his way as the vehicle rolled forward. Blotting her face with the towel, she leaned her head back against the seat and tried to ignore the cramps in her shoulders and legs as she fought back tears and the overwhelming urge to fall against him and be held and comforted; to let him take control.
His narrowed eyes were trained on the winding gravel road. Every so often he would glance in the side-view mirror, checking his stallion. It was romantic, in a way, she thought, how he kept chasing her down, swearing to protect her, saying he loved her. If only she dared believe him…trust him a little…love him a lot.
“Did you really think you could get away with it?” Zane asked, as the silence grew thick around them and the gloom of the forest seeped into the interior.
Shivering, she rubbed her arms, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. “I thought it was worth a shot.”
“You cold?” He worked with the knobs of the heater, then, still driving, eased out of his own jacket and laid it across the blanket. “I’ll probably end up taking you to the hospital.”
“I’ll be fine,” she replied, still chilled to the bone.
Zane sighed. “And what would you have done if you had, by some miracle, found the freeway? Ride the horse down four lanes?”
“No,” she said, her spine stiffening involuntarily, “I intended to stop at the first house and call.”
“Whom?” he asked.
“Jim maybe—or Alan. Not Margot since she’s in cahoots with you.”
“And what would Alan have done?”
“Rescued me!”
“Ha!” He barked out a laugh and twisted hard on the wheel. “So now you want to be rescued?”
“No, I just want my life back,” she said, staring out the window and watching the wipers slap away the rain.
“A life without me.”
She drew in a steadying breath and tried to lie, but couldn’t. The words stuck in her throat. She didn’t want him completely out of her life—not anymore. And that was the problem. There was no letting Zane in a little bit. With him it was all or nothing. “All” meant giving up her hard-fought independence. “Nothing” meant never seeing him again. Her heart squeezed painfully at the thought. These past few days had been exhilarating and romantic, and her life back in the city seemed colorless in comparison.
“I thought Alan didn’t mean anything to you.”
“He’s a friend. A co-worker and a friend.”
He snorted and fiddled with the heater as the windows began to fog. “So what about us?”
“I don’t know what to do about us,” she admitted, her emotions as raw as the dark night. “Part of me would like to see you burn in hell for what you’ve put me through.”
“And the other part?”
She slid him a glance. “The other part tells me you’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Zane drew a slow breath, then smiled painfully. “I definitely think you should listen to part two.”
“How can I,” she asked, turning to face him, “when all you’ve done since you showed up at my house is bully me into doing things your way?”
The honesty in her eyes cut deep into his soul. He knew that he’d gone too far. But now there was no turning back. He’d considered letting her leave, pretending not to hear her sneak out of the house and into the barn. But what then? Let her show up in San Francisco with his horse and never see her again? The thought was unbearable. “I’ll let you go, Kaylie,” he promised, forcing the words through his teeth. “Once I’m assured that you’ll be safe.” He swallowed with difficulty and almost tripped over the lie. “That’s all I really want for you.”
As the rain stopped, he turned off the wipers and checked the side mirror. His Majesty was tiring. “I think we’d better pull over for a little while,” he said, frowning. “Give the old guy a break. He’s had a hard night.”
“Haven’t we all?” she said, but climbed out of the Jeep when it slowed to a halt. Both she and Zane checked the horse, who was sweating and starting to lather. Zane walked him slowly for a while, until the stallion’s heavy breathing returned to normal. Zane slanted a glance at Kaylie, and his gut twisted.
She caught his gaze, and her lips moved a little—so seductive and innocently erotic. He wondered how much more of this self-induced torment he could stand.
Time seemed to stand still as they stood, not touching, gazes locked, the earthy, rain-washed forest surrounding them.
“We’d better get going,” he said, his voice gruff.
She glanced away, breaking the spell. Nodding, she replied, “I’ll lead His Majesty.”
Zane didn’t argue. Once she was safely inside the Jeep, he handed her the reins, then climbed behind
the wheel. The rest of the ride was tense and excruciatingly slow. Several times his fingers, gripping the gearshift, brushed against her knee, and she looked sharply up at him, but there weren’t accusations in her gaze. If anything, there was an unspoken invitation.
Zane’s fingers tightened over the wheel, and he thought he’d go out of his mind battling the urge to stop, take her into his arms and make love to her right then and there!
Finally, after agonizing minutes, he steered the vehicle around the final corner, and the log house loomed in the darkness ahead.
“I’ll take care of the horse,” he said as he parked the rig and looked long and hard at Kaylie. “And you should take a hot bath, drink something warm and then find the heaviest nightgown in the closet and wrap yourself up in about a thousand blankets.” She reached for the door, and he couldn’t let her escape. He grabbed her and pulled. She fell against him. As she did, he covered her mouth with his, pressing hard, insistent lips to hers and surrendering to the emotions that had warred with him ever since he’d seen her walking out of the water on the beach in Carmel.
His blood thundered, his body burned, and all those vows he’d sworn to himself—vows to stay away from her until she was ready—vanished.
She seemed to melt against him, her supple lips responding, a quiet moan escaping her throat. “Why?” he rasped, when he finally lifted his head from hers. “Why do you continue to fight me?”
“Because you fight me,” she responded, eyes glazed as she slowly disentangled herself. “And that’s what it is with us—a battlefield—your will against mine. It’s always been that way, always will be.”
She opened the door and stepped into the darkness, and Zane, wishing the throbbing in his loins would subside, struggled out of the Jeep. Pocketing his keys, he said, “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
She stared at him with wide, vulnerable eyes, then hurried into the house.
He should have just let her go back to the city, he realized, knowing that he couldn’t hold out much longer. Sooner or later, he’d give in to the demands of his body, and then… Oh, God, then who knew what would happen?
There was a good chance that he’d lose her forever.
“If you haven’t already,” he reminded himself grimly. With a gentle tug, he led the tired stallion to the barn.
* * *
Kaylie kicked off her soiled clothes and made a beeline for the shower. She let the hot spray soothe her throbbing muscles and loosen her sore joints, while the warm water restored feeling in her fingers and toes. She felt as if she’d been in the saddle for a millennium.
“As a pioneer woman you’re a failure, Melville,” she said, chiding herself as she squeezed water from a sponge and lathered her body. “And as a modern woman, you need some lessons on the male of the species.” What was wrong with her? she wondered, twisting off the faucets and snatching a bath towel from the rack. Every time Zane touched her or kissed her or looked at her, she turned into jelly.
“Don’t let him know that,” she warned her reflection as she rubbed away the moisture from the mirror. “You’re supposed to be strong, independent and in control!” But the green eyes staring back at her accused her of the lie. When it came to Zane, whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was in love. Always had been.
“And you’re a fool,” she whispered bitterly, toweling dry her hair.
She flung open the closet door and picked out a white cotton nightgown and a robe.
She’d go downstairs, get something to eat and then try to get to sleep. Right now, she knew that sleep was out of the question.
She started downstairs, only to stop short at the doorway to Zane’s room. The door was open a crack, and she could see him, standing in front of the mirror, wearing only low-slung jeans.
His eyes caught hers in the reflection, and the look he sent her stopped her breath somewhere between her throat and lungs. “I thought you were going to rest,” he said.
“I’m not tired.”
He cocked a disdainful brow. “You should be dead on your feet.”
“Nope,” she replied, hoping to sound chipper, though she had to stifle a yawn.
Turning to face her, he smiled, a small, lazy grin. “So, how’re you going to plan your next escape attempt?”
“Next time it won’t just be an attempt,” she replied, unable to resist teasing him.
“Oh?” One dark eyebrow cocked in interest. He crossed the room and held the door open. “So next time you’ll dupe me.”
“That’s right.”
“I can hardly wait,” he drawled, baiting her.
“Oh, you won’t have to wait long,” she promised, though she had no idea how she’d ever pull it off.
“No?” His eyes narrowed speculatively, and Kaylie could feel the air charge between them. “You know, Kaylie, I wonder about all those reasons you concoct to go back to San Francisco.” He studied his nails. “The job, the empty apartment, your co-worker, that all-fired important life.”
“It is important.”
“No doubt, but I think there’s another reason you can’t wait to make tracks out of here.” He looked up at her and his gaze was so intense, she could barely breathe.
“And what’s that?” she asked, swallowing hard.
“I think you’re afraid of me—or at least of being alone with me.”
“That’s silly.”
“Is it?” His gaze accused her of the lie. “I think you’re less afraid of dealing with that madman who would like to slit your throat than you are of facing your real feelings for me.”
“My feelings?” she asked, licking her lips in unwitting invitation.
“Right. I think you’re afraid that if you stay here too long with me, you won’t have the willpower to leave.”
Though his guess was close to the truth, she laughed nervously. “You always did have an incredible ego.”
His smoldering look accused her of the lie. She knew he was going to kiss her. In the intimate room, alone in the wilderness, he was going to take her into his arms and she wouldn’t be able to resist. “Please, Zane, if you care about me—”
“I do. I told you that. I also told you that I love you.”
“Then, if you love me, take me home.”
He hesitated, pain shadowing his eyes. “This is home, Kaylie. You and me together—that’s home.”
“Not anymore, Zane,” she said, forcing the words out. “And never again.”
“You’re kidding yourself.”
“I—I think you’re the one doing the kidding.”
“Am I?” His expression darkened, and the lines around the corners of his mouth grew tight. He grabbed her wrist and slowly tugged, pulling her toward him. Deliberately he lowered his head, until his lips hovered over hers. “I can’t leave you alone,” he admitted hoarsely, his face only inches from her, his breath stirring the wet strands of her hair, his gaze moving to the pout of her lips. “Damn it, I want to, but I…just…can’t.” He tugged on her arm, and his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that burned deep into her heart.
Though a thousand reasons to run flitted through her mind, her love for him still lingered. His lips were warm, his body, hard and long, his arms strong. Tilting her head upward, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the pent-up desire she’d tried so desperately to suppress. Lost in the wonder of his male body pressed urgently against hers, she didn’t stop him when one hand tangled in her hair, the other splaying possessively against her back. He kissed her throat and eyes and cheeks, and she tingled everywhere, aching for him.
Slowly he lowered her onto the bed and she didn’t protest. His tongue slid between her teeth, flicking against her tongue, causing thrills to chase up her spine.
Her nipples grew hard, and dark peaks pressed against the thin cotton of her gown. Her breasts ached for his touch, and she moved intimately against him, rewarded by the feel of his hands slipping past the cotton, sliding the nightgown over her shoulder, exposing her whi
te skin.
His thumb grazed her nipple, and she moaned. Zane lowered his head, suckling on the tiny dark bud, flicking it with his tongue, igniting her blood. Wanting so much more, Kaylie writhed against him. Impatiently his hands slid the nightgown over her other shoulder, baring both breasts.
With a primal groan he kissed both white mounds and buried his head in the cleft between them, alternately suckling from one, then the other.
“Oh, Kaylie,” he rasped, kneading one soft mound as he kissed the other. “Don’t ever stop.” Slowly his hand lowered to the hem of her nightgown, his fingers grazing her thigh, skimming her skin that already felt on fire.
“Please…” she whispered.
He groaned, ripping the nightgown from her body and dropping to his knees, his hands on her bare buttocks as he touched her heated flesh with his tongue, kissing her breasts and abdomen and lower. Sucking in her breath, she leaned against him, her hands tangling in his hair as he explored and probed until she could think of nothing but the swirling hot void, a vortex of want, an emptiness only he could fill.
“I love you,” he vowed, his hands still massaging her buttocks as he stood.
Oh, God, if she could only believe him. The words rang in her ears. But did he know that love and possession weren’t the same? Could he learn?
Unable to resist, she boldly touched the waistband of his jeans. He made a primal sound deep in his throat, then tilted her head up to his. “Yes, love,” he whispered, eyes glazed with passion.
She slid his jeans over his legs and he kicked himself free of them and wrapped strong arms around her middle. In one swift motion, he whirled her onto the bed and was lying over her, his gaze locked with hers, his tongue rimming her lips. “Just love me,” he whispered.
“Oh, Zane, I do.”
Closing his eyes for a second, he parted her legs with his and entered her swiftly. She sucked in her breath as he began to move, slowly at first, then with an ever-increasing rhythm that drove all thoughts from her mind.