Riley eyed her from under the brim of his Stetson. Then he pivoted, billowing his ankle-length saddle coat, to glance back at the depression she indicated. Finally, and trailing Pride behind him, he came to her and squatted in front of her … near enough for her to push him over, if she so chose. “I don’t care about any sign. I’m out here because of you. I want to know what’s wrong.”
His question was so absurd that she could only chuckle. “What’s wrong? Look around, Riley. Look what I’m doing. And where I’m doing it. A better question would be what’s right.”
Riley tilted his Stetson back on his head and narrowed his brown eyes at her. “All right. What’s right?”
Glory tilted her head in consideration of this Thorne man and his question. Reflected sunlight dappled his dark eyes with golden flecks, emphasized his wide, firm mouth. She took a deep, chest-expanding breath and slumped further into her heaped posture. “There’s nothing right, Riley. Not in this world. Not where I live.”
Remaining quiet, offering no solutions, he merely nodded, suggesting by his frowning stare that he was giving due consideration to her words.
And that annoyed her to no end. How dare he be so … so understanding, so reasonable? Without warning, and releasing Daisy’s reins, Glory shoved Riley back onto his butt. His long legs jerked out in front of him, raising dust and Cain as he yelled and cussed out his shock. Pride startled, whinnied out his shock, and jerked back against Riley’s hold on his reins.
Beyond caring, Glory leaped onto Riley’s chest and, with doubled-up fists, began pounding on him. “I hate you, Riley Thorne! Do you hear me? I hate you. How dare you hire those two men? How could I have trusted you, how could I have let you in my house?”
* * *
Caught off guard by Glory’s attack, Riley lost his Stetson and his grip on Pride’s reins. The panicked horse bucked wildly, mere death-dealing inches away. Crabbing sideways on his back, trying to take them out of range of Pride’s sharp hooves—and praying the animal shied in the opposite direction—Riley captured her wrists and bellowed, “Dammit, Glory, you’re about to get us killed.”
“Don’t you dammit-Glory me, Riley Eugene Thorne. I will never forgive you. How dare you make me love you, you—” She froze in position atop him. Surprise flared in her green eyes, widening them as she stared down at him and finished, “You … bad man, you.”
Aware that Pride chose that moment to bolt away, but more concerned with the feel of her weight atop him, with her breasts pressed against his chest, with the look on her sweaty little face, framed as it was by her rat’s-nest hair, and with her words, Riley took a moment to catch his own breath. Then he encouraged, “I’m listening. Go on. You were saying—”
“You shut up.” Glory wrenched herself free of his grip and inched down his length until she was between his spread legs. There she pulled herself up to her skirt-covered knees, rested her hands atop them, and glared. Her shoulders, under her heavy sheepskin coat, rose and fell with each rapid breath.
Riley hoisted himself up onto his elbows and returned her look for look. He’d waited his whole life to hear her say she loved him, and now she had—while kicking his ass. Suddenly, his heart soared—with joy, with love for her, and at these ridiculous circumstances. He grinned. And then chuckled. And then laughed out loud, throwing his head back.
“There’s not one danged thing funny about this,” Glory fussed as, a hand pressing down on each of his thighs, she levered herself to her feet.
Riley knew he’d better not let her get away. So, almost before she was on her feet, he was on his. And standing in front of her, gripping her shoulders. “I love you, too, Glory Bea Lawless.”
When she opened her mouth—no doubt to protest—he wrenched her resisting body against his and claimed her mouth. A muffled squawk accompanied her stiffening in his arms. But kissing her now, Riley was lost. She tasted so damned good, even gritty and salty like she was. Tasted like the earth itself. The inside of her mouth was warm and slick … and hungry. Riley deepened their kiss and she began to yield to him. But again she stiffened, warning him with a gradual clamping down of her teeth—
Riley jerked his head back and stared down into her anger-puckered face. “You don’t have to do that, Glory. All you’ve got to do is tell me. Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you, and I will stop. Just say the words.”
Tears sprang to her green and glaring eyes, her kiss-moistened mouth twisted, and her chin dimpled. But Riley’s words, delivered in a voice huskied with want, hung in the air, remained unchallenged as she kept her silence.
“Well? Tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want me.” He tightened his grip on her arms. “If you don’t say the words, I’m going to see this through to its end. I’ve never felt before like I could tell you, but I love you, Glory, and I want you. You’re in my blood, like a river carving out a valley in my soul. So if you think you’re going to tell me you love me and then just walk away, you’re crazy.”
She shook her head and slumped in his grip. “I have to walk away, Riley. Don’t you see? I can’t love you. I just can’t. You’re a Thorne. And I’m a Lawless. Our families would never allow it.”
Her words were a knife piercing his skin, stabbing through muscle, embedding themselves in the bone underneath. “I’m a twenty-five-year-old man, Glory. I don’t give a damn what my family thinks. All I think about, all I care about, is you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted. You’re the only reason I’ve hung around this godforsaken no-man’s-land all these years. I’ve just been waiting on you to grow up. And now you have.”
Riley’s heart sank when Glory shook her head, swirling her reddish-brown and tangled curls about her face and shoulders. “Don’t say these things to me, Riley, please. It’s so hard. I have to think of my family. Don’t you see that? I’m a Lawless. Maybe even the last one alive. It’s up to me to keep the ranch going. It’s my parents’ dream. My sisters’. Mine. I care, and I’m not leaving it.”
Her words cooled Riley’s blood, settled it in his veins. But hardened his soul. He released her and stepped back. “All my life I’ve heard the land comes first. And maybe it does. I’ve watched my father trying to hang onto it. I’ve stood by while it twisted his soul, Glory. I don’t want to be like that. And I wasn’t asking you to leave. I just wanted you to put me first, like I have you. But you can’t. And it’s right sorry I am for that.”
Through saying his piece, Riley turned away, going to retrieve his Stetson. The intense quiet of the oppressive prairie settled over him, etching his features with disappointment as he bent over and snatched his hat up off the ground. He hit it against his thigh to shake the dust loose, and then reformed it with cutting motions of his hands. Finally, he fit it to his head and turned back to Glory. She hadn’t moved or said or done anything to stop him from leaving.
Adding that hurt to his belly full of emotions, Riley suddenly blurted, “That land you care so much about doesn’t give a damn about you, girl. It won’t keep you warm at night. It won’t give you those babies you want. And it sure as hell won’t hold you in its arms in that big old chair in your daddy’s office and promise you that everything’s going to be okay.”
Glory flinched. He saw it, but refused to muster any sympathy for her. With one long, last stare, he turned his back on her and headed for his horse.
“Riley?”
He stopped, didn’t turn to look at her. “What?”
“Kiss me.”
A shuddering breath escaped him. He put his hands to his waist, bent a knee, and stared out over the tan-brown and rolling hills of the Lawless holdings. And thought about what she’d just said. Then he spoke over his shoulder. “No.”
“Yes. Kiss me. I want you to.”
“This isn’t a game, Glory. It’s forever.”
“I know. Kiss me.”
“There’s no stopping. No going back.”
Silence. And then, “Kiss me.”
His heart pounded, urged him to turn around. His legs and
feet were already doing just that. Feeling like so much stone on the outside, but fluttering like a wind-borne feather on the inside, afraid to believe, more afraid not to, Riley faced her, narrowed his eyes. “You understand what this means? I want more than your kisses. I want all of you—your heart and your soul. Nothing less.”
Glory never looked away from him as she jerked her father’s heavy coat off and flung it to the ground. “I told you to kiss me, Riley Thorne.”
Still … Riley hesitated, glancing at J. C. Lawless’s coat lying in a lifeless heap on the cold, hard ground. Just like the man himself. The thought unnerved him. He sought Glory’s gaze, saw her Lawless chin come up a notch. No—she wasn’t a Lawless. What would she do when she found out? Would her spirit be crushed? Probably.
But maybe not—not if she had someone at her side to help her through. And by God, that someone was going to be him. She was offering, and he was taking. Out of love. Not hatred or bitterness. But love.
It was that simple. Riley chuckled, ducked his head in sudden embarrassment. He’d never had a woman seduce him before. Hell, he’d never had a woman kick his ass before, either. But he’d survived that, hadn’t he? Hands again to his waist, his knee bent, Riley grinned at her. “Say it one more time, sweetheart.”
Glory shifted her weight, looked uncertain. But then that stubborn chin came up. “Kiss me.”
Riley ripped his hat off and sent it flying in the cool but windless November air. With long-legged, determined strides, he advanced on her. “Baby, I’m going to kiss you and one hell of a whole lot more.”
Chapter 13
Glory had no time to think before Riley was upon her and holding her, kissing her. His arms slipped around her back, pulled her closer against his muscled length. Faint with wanting him, and not quite understanding the hot, pricking sensations happening inside her, things Riley caused with his nearness, with his kiss, she surrendered to his touch. And realized she could do that because she trusted Riley. Trusted him not to hurt her, not to betray her. Not to take more than she could give.
Riley broke his kiss. He pulled back enough to stare down into her face. “I’ve waited years for you, Glory. For this moment. I just hate that it’s out here, out in the open like this. I wanted it to be special, to be something more…” His voice trailed off. He smiled, his expression baring his heart.
Glory reached up and stroked her hand down his tanned and smooth cheek. “It is special, Riley. It’s wonderful. Because it’s you.”
She watched the effect her words had on this strong, strong man. Clutching at her hand, holding it to his mouth, kissing her palm, he closed his eyes, his mouth quirked into a tender line. His expression suggested he savored her words, as if each one were a treasure he could never recapture after this moment. As if this were his only chance to enjoy them.
Warmed to her core, despite the day’s coolness, despite not having on Papa’s coat anymore, Glory tugged her hand from his and slipped her arms under his duster and around his back. She then lay her head against Riley’s chest. Even through the thickness of his flannel shirt and underlying combination suit, she could hear, could feel his heart beating right under her cheek. “Oh, Riley, I do love you.”
Riley stirred, tensed. “Oh, damn, Glory,” was all he said, his words no more than a husky whisper sighing off his lips. His arms encircling her more fully, he said, “I’ve got to feel you in my arms.”
“I want that, too,” Glory heard herself saying. “I want you.”
Riley smoothed his hands around to her arms and held her away from him, looked down into her eyes. “Nothing and no one will ever stand between us again. I swear, it to you right here, right now.” With those words, and with suddenly feverish motions, Riley kissed her again with all the fierce longing for her that Glory knew he’d harbored for years.
Almost overcome with his intense passion, with his hands roving hard and fast over her body, as if her clothes were no barrier to his touch, she felt a faintness settle in her knees. And a hot heaviness in the vee of her legs. A throbbing pulse burned in her secret woman’s place. The hurting ache of it, she somehow knew, could only be quenched by Riley’s touch, his kiss. And so she put everything she felt into returning his kiss, into dueling with his tongue, into opening herself fully to his onslaught.
Riley broke away, breathing rapidly, staring down at her with an intensity she found both frightening and exciting. That she’d have this effect on such a man as Riley, one so normally cool and distant, so quiet and remote, was astounding to her. And very heady. Feeling suddenly wanton, wanting to make him feel more, Glory stunned even herself by beginning to unbutton her blouse. All without a word. And without breaking eye contact with him.
Riley watched her a moment, sucked in a breath, let it out in a shuddering ripple, and stood helplessly before her. Glory smiled … an ancient smile of female knowledge, of female conquering. “Make our bed, Riley.”
Blinking—and not from anything to do with the warm beating down of the sun in his eyes, Glory suspected—Riley became a galvanized blur of activity. He all but ripped off his duster and spread it at her feet. Papa’s coat was added to the nest. Riley then feathered it with his heavy flannel shirt. With hurried, fumbling motions of her own, Glory shed her blouse and fluttered it atop his shirt. Riley muttered a heated something as he stared at her. Then he frowned. “Are you cold, sweetheart?”
Glory nodded, hugged herself. Riley stepped over their makeshift bed and took her in his arms. “Let me warm you.” And then he proceeded to do just that with the kisses he trailed over her jaw, her neck, across her shoulder, and down her chemise-covered chest. A shuddering gasp from Glory brought his head up, his dark eyes staring into hers. “Come with me.” He pulled her down with him onto the bed he’d prepared for her atop a hill on Lawless land.
Lying in his arms, feeling his weight pressing into her, Glory closed her eyes, surrendering her will. Whatever he wanted from her was his. But she had no words to say what abided in her heart. She could only show him the way there. Marveling that she was unafraid, she flattened her palm against his chest, against the fabric of his combination suit, and smoothed her fingers under the unbuttoned neck, feeling for herself the warm, hard muscle there. The pulsing between her legs ticked off an aching beat, tore words from the depths of her soul. “I want you, Riley.”
And those words were all it took. Riley tipped his forehead to hers and took several breaths. “All right, baby. All right.”
In only moments, there were no clothes between them. No stitched fabric to hide behind. In only moments, they were as God made them. With His world as their witness, with the wind through the waving tallgrass as their music, with the sun shining its warm approval, with their horses grazing afar, Glory and Riley learned each other’s bodies. And deepened their love.
Naked, long of frame, hard of muscle, and warm of skin, Riley covered Glory with his protective length, sheltering her in his embrace. His hands—so square and fine and capable—slipped over her skin, gliding like a soft wind over the peaks and valleys of her woman’s body. Under his touch, she ached and arched, tossed and rippled. Riley bent his head to capture a nipple, even as his hand cupped the fullness of her virgin breast.
A cry rang from Glory when Riley’s lips closed over her, peaked flesh. She clutched spasmodically at his arms. Riley raised his head, looked with hooded eyes into her face. Glory felt the blaze of pain that was desire, that was lusting at its most beautiful. She needed this man, like she needed air, like she needed food. Like she needed love. Riley smiled down at her, seemed to sense these new and strong emotions tearing at her.
All while looking into her eyes, he smoothed his hand down her belly and cupped her femininity. Glory sucked in a breath and clutched at his wrist. Riley bent to whisper into her ear, kiss her neck, her cheek, her eyes … and moved his fingers. Stroking the slick and velvet folds of her desire, Riley softened her resistance, kept whispering to her, telling her of her beauty, of his love. Until Gl
ory opened to him.
But it was Riley who made the noise at the back of his throat. Who reared his head back, his face reflecting the rapt pleasure he felt at pleasing her. Glory wanted to please him in return. But she didn’t know how. As if he’d read her mind, Riley looked down at her under him and said, “Touch me.”
A frown of confusion mirrored her lack of experience, of know-how. Riley smoothed his hand—that same hand which only a moment ago had her centered in its palm—smoothed his hand up her belly, captured her hand and placed it against his hard length. Glory gasped, her eyes widened. Riley smiled a deep and tender smile down at her. “It won’t bite.”
Glory lowered her gaze to his throat, caught her bottom lip between her teeth. A different heat, different from the hot, aching one of desire, suffused her cheeks. She absorbed the feel of him in her hand, allowed herself a moment to get used to this new sensation. And found she could make him gasp … if she only moved her feather-soft touch over him, up and down him. She chanced a look up into his face. Oh, he liked this.
After only a moment of stroking, Riley pulled her hand away, kissed her fingers, and pulled her arms up over her head as he lay himself across her and settled his hips in the saddle of hers. “Bend your knees, sweetheart. Wrap your legs around me.”
Without thought or hesitation, Glory did just that. She marveled at the feel of him against her. He was so finely formed, so hard and handsome, so tender with her. He pressed himself against her, released her hands, and smoothed her hair back from her face as he captured her mouth with his, sipping hungrily of her. Glory’s belly contracted with need, with a burning ache that nearly had her mad with desire. Breaking their kiss, she tossed her head impatiently, dug her nails into Riley’s shoulders. “Please,” she cried out, not even knowing for what she asked.
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