Outlaw Heart

by Samantha James

  "Havin' trouble with the little lady, mister?"

  "Nothing I can't handle." Kane's easy tone didn't fool Abby. He was as tense as a metal wire. She instinctively eased closer.

  "Didn't sound that way, the way we heard it." The heavy-set one gave a wheezing laugh. "Say, Jake, I think this boy could use a lesson or two. What d'ya say?"

  "I'd say that's the best idea you've had all year, Chester. And you know what they say, no time like the present." Jake gave a grating chuckle, a sound that chilled Abby's blood. Both were unshaven and unkempt. An air of menace clung to the pair, as thick as stale smoke. Her heart began to pound.

  The one called Chester spit out a greasy wad of tobacco and hitched his chin toward Kane. "You there, put your hands on your head real slow-like and move away from the lady."

  Kane remained where he was, arms taut, fingers flexed. The two were eyeing Abby like a child might eye a sweet treat behind the counter.

  He didn't like it—he didn't like it at all.

  Rage splintered across Chester's face as he nudged his horse forward. "If you're smart, mister, you'll do what I say." Without warning he drew back his boot, then thrust his heel out against Kane's chest. On horseback, his added height gave him the momentum he needed to knock Kane off-balance.

  By the time Kane recovered, whirling on him with teeth bared, Chester had hoisted a rifle to his shoulder. It was aimed dead-center at his heart. He motioned with it.

  "Git yourself over to that boulder and kneel down... no, not that way. We want ya where you can see how much your little gal there likes a real man." He grinned, displaying a mouthful of stained, yellowed stumps. "That's good, right there. Now put your hands behind your back and keep 'em there."

  Jake swung down off his horse. He crooked a finger at Abby.

  Abby stood like a trapped doe.

  Jake let out a foul curse and strode toward her.

  "You two don't hear so good, do ya?" He grabbed her arm in a bruising grip and twisted his hand in her hair, jerking her face up to his. "We can do this nice and easy-like, or we can have some fun. Which is it gonna be, sister?"

  Lank, greasy hair stuck out from beneath his hat. Fetid breath struck her face, as sour as the odor of his unwashed flesh. Abby's stomach heaved.

  Terrified, praying it didn't show, she spit in his face. Jake's features contorted into an ugly mask. He grabbed a fistful of her shirt, then shoved her with all his might, sending her tumbling to the ground. Though she tried to stifle it, a half-sob of pain ripped from her throat.

  Her cry went through Kane like a knife ripping through paper. He sprang up on the balls of his feet, his body coiled and ready to spring. The chill of cold metal rammed against his temple was the only thing that stopped him.

  Chester leered at him. "I wouldn't if I was you, mister, lest you want your little gal to see your brains splattered from here to the Sweetwater."

  Earth and sky spun by in a sickening whirl. Dazed by her fall, Abby cried out when ruthless hands yanked at her wrists, jerking them behind her back. Jake cinched her wrists tight with a strip of rawhide. She winced when he gave a last vicious tug. The rawhide bit deeply into her flesh.

  He flipped her over and hauled her to her feet. Grating laughter filled the air when she stumbled.

  "You bastard!" she cried. "I'll die before I'd let a filthy beast like you lay a hand on me!" Sheer bravado prompted her outburst. Jake retaliated by ripping open her shirt, sending buttons flying in all directions. She jerked when he wrenched the material from her shoulders down to her elbows, exposing her white cotton chemise.

  He chortled. "Hooeee, Chester, looky what we got here!" Gleaming black eyes devoured the sight of her full breasts straining against the thin cloth. Abby paled when he whipped out a knife. In a horrified frenzy, she thrashed wildly, trying to slam her knee into his groin. He twisted, easily deflecting the blow.

  "You wanna fight? Hey, that's all right by me, sweet thing. Hard and fast and rough is just the way I like it."

  With one stroke he slit the flimsy pink ribbons of her chemise from her waist upward. Freed from their restraint, her breasts spilled out, white and round and bare. Sheer lust flamed in his eyes.

  Next to Kane, Chester's attention wavered. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

  Jake grabbed Abby. He squeezed her so tight she feared her ribs would snap, then jammed his knee between her thighs. Terror like ice clogged her veins. Abby tried desperately to strain away but succeeded only in chafing her wrists. Hot, wet lips opened hers. His tongue gouged deep. Abby turned her face away and gagged. She moaned as hot hands roamed her breasts, squeezing roughly, pinching her nipples and making her gasp in pain.

  "I'm ready," he panted. "Oh, yeah, wait till you see what I got for you, sweet thing." In horror she saw him fumbling with his pants. She wrenched away with a cry.

  Exactly what happened next, Abby couldn't say. She heard a man scream with pain—Chester—and then a deafening explosion. A burning smell assailed her nostrils. She felt more than saw Jake's body jerk. He staggered back, his expression dumbfounded. Blood like a crimson flower blossomed on his forehead. He slumped to the ground.

  Smoke drifted in the silence. When it cleared Abby saw that Kane had Chester pinned to the ground, a knee on his chest, the gleaming tip of a knife laid against his whiskered throat. "Say your prayers, you bastard. 'Cause you're on your way to hell just like your friend."

  Chester began to blubber. "Don't kill me, mister! It was all Jake's idea, I swear. I didn't want to kill ya, honest, but Jake wanted to hump the girl!"

  Kane smiled tightly. "Tell that to some other sucker, fella."

  Abby dragged in a searing breath. "No!" she cried. "Kane, you can't kill him!"

  "Why the hell not?" His tone was flat and emotionless.

  "Because if you do, you—you'll be no better than the two of them!"

  Their eyes collided, his fierce and burning, hers mutely pleading. She glimpsed in his a venomous glitter, and sensed his rage was directed not only at the man held hostage on the ground, but her as well for attempting to stop him.

  An air of utter ruthlessness surrounded him, an air that frightened her. The cords in his wrist grew taut, the tension in his chiseled features terrible to behold. His knuckles turned white on the hilt of the knife as he battled the urge to finish the murder in his heart. Seconds passed, seconds that stretched to an eternity.

  With a snarl he leaped to his feet. "Get your hide in gear and take your buddy with you. And you sure as hell better hope you never cross my path— because if I ever see you again, the lady here won't be with me to save your worthless ass."

  He meant what he said. Every one of them knew it. Chester scrambled up as fast as his girth and the wound in his shoulder would allow. He dumped the other man's body across his horse and gave it a sharp slap on the rump. Whether Jake was dead or alive, Kane didn't know. He didn't care. He watched Chester mount and spur his horse forward. Then he turned to look at Abby. His eyes found hers through the twilight gloom.

  "Dear God," she said numbly. "You—you stabbed him." The words were more breath than sound. Her gaze followed Chester's rapidly disappearing figure.

  "I had to find some way to get him to drop the gun. Lucky for you that I did, or that bastard Jake would be rutting between your thighs right now!"

  Abby flushed, both at his crudity and the stabbing condemnation in his tone. "I suppose you think I should have slapped their hands and asked them to leave," he went on harshly. "Honey, those two deserved everything they got. Do you have any idea what they'd have done to you? A lady who looks like you do would fetch one hell of a price in a whorehouse—after they got through with you, that is. We were goddamn lucky—you were goddamn lucky. I just hope to hell I don't regret letting them live."

  Abby didn't answer, not because she didn't want to, but because she couldn't. Kane's words painted a stark picture in her mind. The enormity of what had happened began to seep in. She shuddered with revulsion. Her vision
blurred; spots danced in front of her eyes. For an instant she feared she would faint—she, Abigail MacKenzie, who had never fainted in her life! She shuddered again, recalling the way that horrid man Jake had touched her— what he'd been about to do! Though she tried, she couldn't control the weakness that rushed through her, making her legs feel like mush.

  The hands that plucked at the torn ribbons of her chemise were none too steady. From where he stood Kane could see the telltale imprint of that bastard Jake's hands on the swelling flesh of her breasts. He swore softly. Damn it, she'd bear those bruises for a while. He crossed to her, his mouth a tight line in his face. She was struggling to hold the gaping edges of her chemise closed with one hand and pull her shirt back over her shoulders with the other.

  "Wait."

  His voice was gritty. She stopped, her eyes lifting slowly to his. That she didn't argue was a sign of just how shaken she was, he decided grimly.

  "Hold still. I want to check those ribs."

  He left no room for protest. She froze, the back of her arm pressed against her chest. Kane tried hard not to look, but bloody hell!—he was only a man, and not a very upright one at that. He bit back a groan. Her chemise was nearly transparent. He had no trouble discerning the shape of her breasts, trembling and soft and full. Her nipples were darker, dusky outlines, visible through the sheer cloth. He wondered if she knew the pressure of her arm merely made the round, cushioned fullness swell still further.

  She flushed when he slid his hands inside her chemise, engulfing her rib cage. At his touch, Abby inhaled sharply. His gaze cut immediately to hers. "Sore?"

  She hesitated. "A little," she admitted.

  That no-good son of a bitch. Aloud he muttered, "I thought for sure that bastard was going to snap you in two."

  Abby wet her lips, her eyes clinging to his. His expression, she noticed vaguely, had lost some of its harshness. She struggled to form a smile. "So did I." Her voice emerged feathery and weak, totally unlike her own.

  Kane said nothing. He had stepped close, so close she could see the dark gray specks in his irises, the shadow cast on his cheekbones by half-lowered lashes, so close she could feel the warm heat of his body, warm against the chill night air.

  She flushed when his gaze once again lowered. Modesty dictated she avert her head, but his scrutiny of her near-naked breasts didn't make her feel soiled and dirty, as Jake's had—she knew he was only checking for injuries. Still, she was sharply aware of the way his fingers slid along her skin, grazing her ribs, probing slowly, gently gauging. His fingertips were faintly callused, but the sensation was not at all unpleasant. She felt an odd, unfamiliar quiver low in her belly. In fact, she thought with the faintest tinge of panic, it was all too pleasant.

  They were both holding their breath when at last he withdrew his hands. But while both were achingly aware of her state of undress, neither was aware of the chaos going on inside the other.

  Abby awkwardly tugged her shirt back over her shoulders, all at once feeling naked and exposed. Kane presented her with his back. By the time she'd finished, the sudden onset of night fell upon the earth like a smothering cloak. She bit her lip, staring at the rigid lines of his back. He seemed to sense she was finished and turned back. Their eyes locked.. A strange, palpitating tension sprang up between them.

  Abby was the first to tear her eyes away. "Do you think he's dead?"

  Kane didn't need to ask who. His gaze bounced upon her, then swung off to search the inky darkness. Woodenly he answered, "My aim's not what it used to be if he isn't."

  A part of her was appalled at such callousness. Yet another whispered he'd had no choice. Abby shivered as the shadows seemed to move closer. "We'd better start a fire before it gets any later."

  "No. No fire. Not tonight."

  Her breath caught. A flurry of fear gripped her mind. Kane could have kicked himself when he saw it.

  "You don't think he'll come back, do you?" Though she tried, Abby couldn't quite keep the tremor from her voice.

  Kane despised the surge of longing that rose up inside him. He wanted to drag her in his arms, kiss away the puckered frown between her brows, soothe her fears ... Christ! What the hell was the matter with him?

  "I doubt it," he said at last. "But I'll keep watch just the same. You might as well try and get some sleep."

  It was a dismissal, abrupt and somehow almost cutting. To her horror, she felt a stinging rush of tears behind her eyelids. Feeling wounded without knowing quite why, she pulled in a long, uneven breath, battling the urge to cry.

  But Kane had heard the deep, shuddering breath she drew. His head whipped around. He regarded her suspiciously.

  "What's wrong?"

  She just shook her head, unwilling to say anything for fear her voice would betray her tremulous feelings right now. Her emotions lay scattered in every direction, but she couldn't seem to help it. She would have turned away, but all at once he was there before her.

  "I may be a lot of things, sweetheart, but I'm not stupid. And I'm not blind." He caught her chin between thumb and forefinger, turning her face up to his. "Now tell me what's wrong."

  Though his voice was still gruff, some of the fierceness had left his face.

  "I just—I just don't know why you're so angry with me," she heard herself say haltingly. She shuddered. "I know those men probably followed us from Crystal Springs. But it's not my fault. I didn't do anything to make them try to do—" She flushed painfully. "—what they did."

  No, he thought vaguely, she hadn't. There was no need to. His insides twisted with guilt . . . and something else. It wasn't just her chestnut-haired beauty that beckoned to a man—it was her pride and fiery spirit that made a man long to tame it, yearn to make her surrender. No man was immune from it, including him ... especially him.

  For just an instant, the plane of his jaw hardened. He hated the betraying moisture in her eyes, hated himself for putting it there. He was only half-aware of reaching for her, tugging her close.

  "No," he agreed, his voice very low. "You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, it's my fault for letting them sneak up on us."

  Their eyes locked. For a mind-splitting moment, there was no doubt both were locked fast in the remembrance of what they'd been doing.

  "It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known what they intended to do." Her arms slid around his waist. She shivered.

  His arms tightened.

  Slowly she raised her head. "Kane," she whispered. "I... don't blame you for shooting Jake. I know you did it because ... you had no choice."

  Kane clenched his jaw. He wasn't about to divulge the burning rage he'd felt at the sight of Jake's hands on her. Nor could he divulge the fear that had gripped his mind while Jake stood over Abby. He'd been afraid, not for himself, but for Abby. He'd known she wouldn't meekly submit—and she hadn't.

  He'd shot Jake because it was either that or tear him apart with his bare hands.

  "You were a fool to try to fight him," he heard himself mutter. "You could have been hurt a lot worse. Christ, when I think what he might have done...!"

  "But he didn't."

  She turned her head against his shoulder, rubbing her cheek against the soft cotton of his shirt. It spun through her mind that his arms were a strange place to find comfort, but he felt so good, all warm, solid strength.

  Her breath, warm and moist, trickled across the hollow of his throat. His voice drifted above her head. "You sure you're all right?"

  Abby nodded. Her mouth went dry. Slowly, as if he were giving her the chance to move away if she wanted, he threaded his fingers through her hair and tilted her head back so he could see her. His eyes darkened when she made no move to stop him. And she knew, with stark, shattering clarity, that he was going to kiss her again ...

  Her hands came up to clutch at his shoulders, as if in protest. Instead she found her fingers clinging, the muscle beneath her fingertips startlingly hard. Her breath fluttered, like a leaf caught in the wind. He trapped it b
etween his lips and caught it in the back of his throat.

  The kiss was not what she expected. It started off deep and slow and rousing, melting all through her like warm honey. His mouth slanted first one way and then the other. She wondered how it might feel on other places ... She gave a tiny little sigh, helplessly twisting her head to accommodate him.

  The sound was like a dam breaking inside him. "Open your mouth," he said against her lips. "Open it," he urged. "Please."

  She did, and was rewarded by the sweeping entrance of his tongue against hers, as bold and fearless as the man himself. Her stomach quivered. Her heart beat the pounding rhythm of a drum as the seductive persuasion of his mouth grew blatantly erotic. He tugged her lower lip between his before dipping within to trace the bottom edge of her teeth. Abby felt a melting curl of heat unfurl low in her belly.

  Darkness engulfed them. The sounds of the night slipped away. Abby was conscious only of the dark, sweet pleasure of his kiss. His mouth slid with slow heat down the fragile arch of her throat. She'd forgotten her state of undress, but Kane hadn't. Impatient hands flicked aside the tattered edges of her chemise, baring her breasts to him.

  She anticipated his touch even before it came. Her breasts seemed to tingle and swell. Her nipples grew tight and peaked. When his thumbs raked across both aching summits, a white-hot current stabbed through her, from her belly to the secret place between her thighs. Her fingers dug into the binding hardness of his arms. Her mind groped fuzzily. There was a reason this shouldn't be happening, but dear Lord, it was so hard to think.

  Kane gritted his teeth. Hunger as sharp as a blade cut through him. His rod swelled stiff and rigid. He felt he was going to burst his britches. He wanted to push her down, feel her tight and wet and hot around him, and drive deep inside her until there was only mindless, pulsing ecstasy.