by Helen Conrad
“Let me go,” she said without much conviction.
“No,” he answered with new intensity. “Not a chance.”
His hands cupped her face, fingers sliding into her hair, and he tilted her head so that she had to look fully into his eyes. “Do you feel like a victim now?” he asked her softly, his warm breath spilling across her skin like the water of some exotic fountain.
His eyes were so dark, so mysterious, and yet she felt as though she could see right through them into his soul. He wanted her. He’d wanted her all evening, from the moment he’d picked her up in his little car. She’d been ignoring it, but it had been there, unspoken, all the while. And she knew the excitement of it had helped set this evening apart from any other she’d ever spent.
It was all wrong, so wrong, but at the same time, it was the most natural thing on earth. “Do you feel like a predator?” she countered.
His fingers tightened, sending electricity coursing through her from his touch. “I don’t think I feel like a predator,” he said, a hint of humor in his eyes. He drew her closer, so that her slim body barely brushed his lean form. “Do I feel like a predator to you?”
“No.” Suddenly she was laughing. When had she ever laughed in a man’s arms before? “No, you feel like a—” Now how could she put this? “—a very sexy man to me.”
His smile was slow and lazy and just slightly edged with desire. “You feel pretty sexy to me, too,” he told her, purposely twisting her words again. “Much too sexy to resist.”
His kiss was a tender gathering-in, and then his arms were around her, hands moving across her back, pulling her closer. His mouth on hers was warmth, wave upon wave of warmth, a deeper, more delicious warmth than any she’d ever felt before.
David Santiago, she thought dreamily, who are you? Can the man who threatens the peace of my family really be the same as this man whose kiss I think I could become addicted to? Impossible. They were two different people, no question about it.
She smiled, arching to his touch, glad to have that settled. That left her free to enjoy the man she was with, the wonderful, warm, loving man who would never do a cruel thing to anyone.
Somehow, they’d found a bed among the hay. Somehow, David’s shirt had come unbuttoned, and Shawnee’s shoulders had become bare and their hearts and minds and bodies were twining, blending, braiding into a love-knot that would be hard to untie once it had been pulled very tight. Their kisses deepened, tongues tangling, breaths merging sweetly, building a haze of desire around them.
Then David was leaning over her, his dark hair disheveled and falling over his forehead so that it shaded his eyes, his hand stroking her breast, bringing up the nipple to an aching peak beneath the slightly rough cloth, and she moaned a soft, dove-like sound, reaching a finger to touch his temple.
“Remember the Spanish caballero and the beautiful girl he found in the stream?” he asked her huskily, his lips making gentle nips along her naked collarbone.
She nodded groggily, lying back against the crackling hay, seeing him only through a haze of tingling pleasure.
“I’m going to show you what he really did,” he whispered, his voice caressing her the same way his hands were. “You just watch this.”
She wasn’t in any condition to watch anything, but she seemed to be able to feel everything in the world—his hand moving in sensuous circles across the sensitive skin of her thigh, his long, taut body pressed to hers, the crisp wealth of hair that met her fingers when she stroked his chest. It occurred to her, suddenly, that they were about to make love. Did that mean they were in love? It must, or she wouldn’t be allowing this to happen.
Her head moved back, eyes trying to focus, mind trying to deal with that thought. Did she love David Santiago? No—wait—that was impossible. She tried to struggle up, to stop him, but his hands were sure and firm on her flesh, and then he’d opened her dress and his mouth was on her breast, tongue caressing the hard tip, sending exquisite persuasion knifing through her body.
Maybe it wasn’t so impossible after all. Maybe it was just as right as the feelings he could conjure up with a touch, a kiss, a shuttered look. Maybe . . . she sank back down and sighed a long, slow sigh of pure enchantment. David, she thought foggily, I guess I love you.
Suddenly he went very still against her. She looked up at him, blinking through a spray of black hair that had tossed itself across her eyes. “What . . . ?” she tried to ask, but he shook his head, putting a quick hand over her mouth.
She listened, trying to hear what had bothered him, and then she heard it, too. Someone was in the barn.
CHAPTER SIX
DRAWING FIRE
“David?” The voice was high and feminine, “Are you in here?”
David groaned very softly, pulling Shawnee close against him. Still struggling to regain her grasp of reality, she realized he was chuckling. Chuckling, when the world was still spinning around her like a top gone wild.
Tilting back her head, she tried to look into his face. “Who is it?” she mouthed.
“Shhh.” He put a finger to his lips and motioned her to be quiet, “Maybe she’ll go away,” he whispered, eyes twinkling.
Whoever “she” was, she seemed to have no intention of doing that. While they lay pressed together, not moving at all, they could hear the woman rummaging through some equipment, then kicking at a bale of hay. Shawnee listened intently, wondering who she was, hoping she would leave. Suddenly she felt David’s hands beginning to move across her skin again.
“David!” she protested as softly as she could, twisting a little away, only to be pulled back into the curl of his embrace.
“She’s taking too long,” he murmured into her ear. “I can’t wait any longer.” A note of humor softened the intensity of his statement, but that didn’t stop him from tightening his grip on her.
There was the sound of something being knocked over, and at the same time, Shawnee gasped as David’s hands cupped both her breasts. “David, don’t!” she whispered.
“Why not?” he muttered back teasingly. “See if you can resist this any more than I can.”
His hands tickled and tantalized at the same time, touching her in a way that was both intimate and teasing, making her squirm and then giggle uncontrollably. Every piece of straw seemed to be sticking into her skin now. Funny how she hadn’t noticed them before.
There was another sharp noise below and he poked her. “See there? Now you’ve given away our hiding place,” he whispered huskily.
“David! I know you’re up there. I saw you come in.” The voice came closer to their loft. “Come down. I want to talk to you.” There was a pause, then she continued. “And bring your little girlfriend with you.”
Shawnee felt a sense of dread at being caught in this role. It was so humiliating. And then her natural pride took over. She wasn’t the one who was interrupting, after all. It was the woman below who’d brought about this confrontation.
“I guess we’d better do it,” David said, resignation coloring his sigh. “If it were anyone else, I’d just order them out. But she’s liable to come up here to drag us down if we don’t go on our own.”
“Who is she?” Shawnee hissed, pulling her clothes together and feeling suddenly cold. If this was some old flame of David’s, she might be in for a hair-pulling contest for all she knew.
“My sister,” he answered. “Allison.”
His older sister who’d been like a mother to him for years. Shawnee groaned silently, wishing she could stay and hide in the hay. Was there anything more embarrassing than being found this way by a member of the family?
“David!”
“We’re coming,” he called back down. “More in respectful obedience than enthusiasm, I might add.”
He rose and smiled at Shawnee. “Would you like to go first?” he asked. “Or would you rather I drew the fire?”
She stared at him for a moment, remembering that only a short time ago, she’d been wondering if she were in l
ove. Had it been only a trick of her mind, a device to allow her to enjoy his lovemaking as she’d so badly wanted to? Or had it been real?
Looking at him now, she felt a surge of hot emotion. She wanted to touch his face, to reach out and take some sort of reassurance from him. But his smile was crinkling with amusement. He wasn’t thinking of love. That she could see plainly. He was thinking about the silly situation they were in, and he was enjoying it to the hilt,
“You go ahead,” she said quickly. “I’ll follow you.”
The trip down the ladder was a wistful anticlimax after her breathless scramble up. She hardly cared any more that there was someone waiting below, censure sparkling in her blue eyes.
“Oh, David, I would have thought you’d be beyond this sort of thing at your age.” Allison’s voice wavered between annoyance and amused affection for her brother. “I remember when Daddy caught you up there with Becky Masters when you were sixteen. He whaled the tar out of you, as I recall.”
She was talking to David but watching his companion. Shawnee kept her chin high as she reached the bottom of the ladder. She wasn’t about to let this person, this Santiago, make her feel like a fool.
Allison was in her late thirties, a tall, elegant-looking woman with eyes that spoke of quiet desperation. Her brown hair was worn short and curly; her slim body was clothed in subtly expensive riding-clothes. There was some resemblance to her brother, but none of his humor, none of his depth.
Shawnee could see that Allison was ready not to like her, even before she knew who she was. With sudden defiance, she decided to take the offensive instead of waiting around to be attacked.
“Don’t blame David,” she said quickly, managing a brittle smile. “I asked him to show me every inch of Rancho Verde. He was only being the perfect host.”
David turned to her, a question in his eyes, but he didn’t say a word. She could almost think he was curious to see how this confrontation between the two of them might turn out. But he did drape a hand lightly but possessively at the back of her neck. The warmth of him filled her again, even from such a simple touch.
Allison had her riding-crop in her hand. Outside, Shawnee could see her horse waiting. The tall woman slapped the crop against her thigh before she answered.
“David has always been an accommodating sort, but I wouldn’t think even he would include himself in the tour,” she said drily, then went on before either of them could reply. “Of course, I’ve never known a girl yet who could resist David,” she smirked, then a frown darkened her face. “Just what is your interest in our home? I’m afraid if you’re in the market for ranches, you’ll have to look elsewhere. Ours is not for sale.”
Shawnee hesitated, glancing at David. “I’m Shawnee Carrington,” she said, searching the tall woman’s eyes as she said the name. There. Reaction. David might not have known much about the old feud, but Allison certainly did.
“Carrington?” Her eyes widened, then went cold. “Jim Carrington?”
“My grandfather.”
“Of course.”
“And Rancho Verde was once my family’s home.”
Allison turned fully towards David, fury lighting her face. “What is she doing here?” she demanded. “How did she get in?” Her riding-crop slashed against her own thigh to emphasize her words.
“Take it easy.” David’s hand left Shawnee’s neck and he stepped forward, taking his sister by her shoulders. “She’s my guest, Allison. I invited her here.” His voice was gentle, soothing, as though he were used to quieting her.
“Why, so she and her family can concoct more lies about us?” She swung back to face Shawnee. “I know what you say in town. I know all about the stories you’ve spread through the years. Your grandfather has no more right to Rancho Verde than he does to the moon, and you can tell him so . . .”
“Allison.” David gave her a gentle shake, forcing her to look up into his face. “That’s enough.”
Allison’s blue eyes stared into her brother’s dark ones. She blinked rapidly, then her harsh armor began to melt. “I’m sorry,” she said shakily, glancing at Shawnee. “That was very rude. I…I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Surprised, Shawnee found herself nodding. “Of course,” she murmured. Funny how vulnerable Allison seemed, not like the hard, arrogant picture she’d had of her all these years. Could it be that she had things in her past that aunted her just as much as it did the Carringtons?
But her outburst did serve to remind Shawnee of her own purpose. How could she have let David lead her so far astray? Why, she’d almost. . . !
Her hand went to her throat at the thought of how close she’d come to an intimacy with David that was impossible, always would be. It made her gasp to think of it. Somehow he had managed to weave a sense of a shared history between the two of them that had lulled her into an affection she couldn’t afford to hold. She would have to be stronger in the future. She would have to toughen up a little. She looked at him, and suddenly she wasn’t horrified by what she’d done any longer.
He was so handsome, but more than that, he was so—so irresistible. There was no other word for it. Just looking at him made her heart melt. Was she in love? She’d better not be!
Stepping away from David, Allison seemed confused and nervous. She pulled a silver cigarette case from her pocket and then a lighter. David reached out and took them both from her.
“You know you can’t smoke in here,” he told her patiently.
She looked up and gave him a tremulous smile. “Oh David, it’s been such a rotten day.”
He smiled back. “Relax, love,” he said. “We’ll go back to the house and wash it away with a nice talk over a cool drink. All right?”
In that short exchange, Shawnee saw just what the relationship between the two of them had become. Allison might have been like a mother to him for many years, but now it was she who needed the nurturing, and he who was providing it. She could see that they loved each other very much, and that Allison depended upon her brother for emotional stability.
In other circumstances such mutual affection would have touched her. It sure put a spotlight on a part of David’s character she never would have dreamed he had. But she had to remember--these were Santiagos, after all. And the people she had to beat.
“I should be getting home,” she told David briskly. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you for a lift.”
He looked at her as though he thought she’d dropped an oar. “We’re on a date, remember?” he told her. “That means I accompany you wherever you need to go. You don’t have to ask for a special ride home.”
She avoided his eyes. “I don’t think we can really consider this a date,” she said more firmly than she felt. “A ‘meeting’ might be a better term for it.”
He’d turned all his attention to her again. “Why not just call it a ‘preliminary weigh-in’?” he asked ironically. “You seem to be preparing for some sort of battle again.”
He reached towards her and she flinched, pulling back, but he kept coming and all he did was take a long piece of straw from her hair.
“So jumpy,” he taunted quietly, his eyes dark and knowing. “What are you afraid of, Shawnee? What do you think I’m going to do?”
Allison was forgotten as she stood, staring into his gaze. What did she think he was going to do? Steal her heart away, that was what. And even as she thought of it, she shuddered uncontrollably. Her breath was coming faster.
He was right. She was afraid. She had to escape, and quickly. But he was so close, so warm.
“David!” Allison’s sharp voice brought them both back to reality. “We’ve been standing here talking all this time and I forgot to tell you what I came for.”
David’s dark gaze lingered on Shawnee’s face, skimming down the line of her cheek and pausing to examine the full swell of her lower lip.
“I’m listening,” he said, but he didn’t turn. He seemed to be letting Shawnee know that though his sister had interrupted t
hem, he hadn’t forgotten what they’d begun up in the loft. And he didn’t mean to let her forget either.
“I was riding up on the Camden Acres,” Allison went on urgently, “and one of the men working on clearing the fields up there had been caught in a landslide. His leg was crushed by a boulder. They radioed for help, and were going to take him in to the hospital, but I knew you’d want to go along to make sure he was taken care of.”
Shawnee watched as his eyes lost the dark intensity. Allison had obviously hit upon the one thing that could divert his attention. His finger touched her cheek for just a moment, then he turned away.
“Did they get a helicopter, or did they take him by four-wheel drive?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. I left before the rescuers arrived. I wanted to get back here and let you know.”
He nodded abstractedly. “I’ll take you home first,” he told Shawnee.
Allison raised an eyebrow, looking suddenly wise. “I could give her a lift home if you want to get on out to the hospital.” There was just a trace of triumph in her voice.
David hesitated. He looked at Shawnee, but there was no longer any humor in his eyes. “No,” he said decisively. “I’ll drive her home.”
Allison gave one last slap of her crop against her leg. “Whatever you say.” She sighed. “Since you live in the neighborhood, I suppose we’ll be seeing more of you.” Her eyes sharpened as she thought of a warning that might just be an arrow for her side.
“We’ll be having a house-guest soon. A particular friend of David’s. Megan Reilly. She’s just about your age. Perhaps you’ll help us entertain her?”
The smile let Shawnee know the comment had been made more as information than invitation. Allison turned on her heel and began to stride toward the wide barn door.
“I’ll be at the house if you need me,” she called back over her shoulder. “So nice to have met you, Miss Carrington.”