Outlaw Heart

by Samantha James

  He thrust her from his lap.

  Abby knew the instant something changed. She'd felt the tension invade his body a fraction of a second before he shoved her away. Caught off guard by his abruptness, she could only stare as he bounded to his feet and strode toward the fire. Once there, he shoved his hands through his hair, his displeasure keenly evident.

  Bewildered, she whispered his name.

  There was nothing. Even the fire ceased its crackle and hiss.

  A pang shot through her. She rose to her feet. Rather awkwardly she moved to stand just behind him, careful not to trip over the trailing ends of her blanket. For a timeless moment she remained huddled there, her arms around her middle, trying desperately not to feel so forlorn, so... abandoned.

  His withdrawal was complete and absolute. She could see it in the iron cast of his jaw. Why? she cried. What had she done to make him suddenly so—so distant! All at once she felt so hollow, so empty that she wanted to die.

  Her shuffling had alerted him to her presence. He whirled, his expression so fearsomely forbidding she stumbled back a step.

  His mouth thinned as the blanket slipped, revealing one smooth, bare shoulder.

  "Why didn't you change like I told you? You had plenty of time."

  Abby flinched. His tone was like a whip. She inclined her head to where her chemise and drawers lay draped over the shack's only two chairs. Her gaze remained riveted to his as she whispered, "My underwear's still wet."

  He jerked his head to where he'd dropped her saddlebag in the opposite corner. "I never met a woman traveled with only one set of underwear."

  His rudeness made her cheeks burn. Feeling more foolish and uncertain than ever, Abby shook her head. "I only brought two, besides those." She nodded toward the chairs. "Jake ruined one," she went on, her voice very small. "And the other..."

  Her voice trailed off. They both recalled last night, the way he'd torn her chemise cleanly in two. The memory rose stark and vivid in both their minds, shared but appreciated by neither. Kane jerked his gaze away, muttering under his breath. Knowing she was naked beneath the blanket wreaked havoc with his insides.

  Abby directed her gaze to the floor. A shiver tore through her. It had taken her a long time to get warm after Kane had left. All at once she wanted his arms hard and tight around her once more. She wanted it with a yearning that made her ache inside. But what could she say? Hold me, Kane. Hold me close and don't ever let me go.

  Scarcely daring to breathe, she started toward him.

  His lips drew back in a relentless line. He stepped back and flung up his arm. "Don't," he warned.

  Abby was not to be deterred. Behind a mask of courage and bravado, she breached the single step that lay between them. Trembling inside, but compelled by some deep-seated need she didn't fully understand, she extended her fingers toward the raspy hardness of his cheek.

  His hand snaked out. His fingers wound around her wrist.

  She cried out at the fierceness of his clasp. "Kane, please, you're hurting me!"

  His gut twisted. No more than she was hurting him, he thought. God, only half as much as he was hurting! Sweat beaded on his forehead. He didn't want to be here. He didn't need any more complications in his life. He had problems enough without adding one more, let alone this particular one. Goddammit, he didn't need her.

  He released her, his breath harsh and scraping. "You heard me." His tone was grating. "Don't touch me. Just stay the hell away from me!"

  Her wounded expression stabbed like a blade. She shook her head in puzzled confusion. "Why are you doing this? Why are you being so deliberately hurtful?"

  "You're fine," he told her brusquely. 'Tougher than any woman I know—hell, tougher than most men!"

  She shook her head wildly. "No, Kane, I—I'm not." Her lips trembled. "Surely you of all people know I'm not!"

  Frustration and bitterness warred deep in his heart. "I don't know anything," he said harshly. "I don't know who I am anymore. Christ, Abby, I don't know what the hell you're doing with a man like me!"

  Again she shook her head. She spoke the only truth in her mind. "I'm not afraid of you, Kane." She wanted so badly to touch him. But his regard was blistering, his features black with rage, his nostrils pinched and white. And she couldn't stand it if he rejected her yet again.

  "Maybe you should be," he said fiercely. "Who am I for you to put your trust in? I'm a criminal, wanted by the law. Do you have any idea what men like me do to women like you?" Her face drained of color, but still she didn't retreat.

  Kane went a little crazy then. "Jesus, I could be leading you off to God knows where—to do God knows what to you! I could tie you up and rape you—a hundred times, a hundred ways. I could beat you, treat you like the animal you're so fond of calling me. And when it was over, you'd pray for death because a woman like you could never stand the shame of being used by a man like me."

  Each word was like an angry, pelting blow. He wanted to seize her, haul her up against him and ravage the soft, sweet innocence of her mouth. He wanted to hurt her as she was hurting him. He wanted to turn her faintly shocked, bemused features white with fear ... to see her turn from him, make her see him for the black-hearted scoundrel he really was.

  But she didn't whirl to run screaming as if he were a monster from hell. She just stood there, huddling beneath that god-awful blanket, her eyes brilliant and blue and unwavering. The purity of that look tore at him like a spear. God! What would she say if she knew he was wanted for murder?

  But it was a murder you didn't commit, whispered a voice.

  He was a coward, he realized defeatedly. That was why he'd left Sam's gang. It wasn't just because he was tired of being hunted, tired of running. He'd left because he was afraid someone would catch up with him. He was afraid some gung-ho sheriff would shoot him. Or see that he hanged. He had nearly felt the rough hemp of a noose scraping his neck once, and that was a fear he'd never been able to conquer. He didn't want to die.

  And he was just as fearful of Abby, because she made him feel things he didn't dare feel again.

  Her eyes still hadn't left his face. "You wouldn't— do those things to me." She moved so close he felt her chest expand in a deep, tremulous breath. "You wouldn't hurt me, Kane. I know you wouldn't. I—I trust you."

  He felt suddenly savage. "Come on, Abby. You think I'm sinful and corrupt, a piece of worthless scum. And I am. Shit, I'm no better than Stringer Sam!"

  Her fingers jerked on the edge of the blanket. "Don't say that," she cried. "Sam doesn't have a conscience. He doesn't even have a heart."

  He laughed, the sound brittle. "And what makes you think I do?"

  She gave a stricken little cry. "How can you even ask that? Oh, you try to act so cold, so heartless, but you're not. Did you think I couldn't feel the difference when you held me tonight? I'm not made of stone, and—and neither are you!"

  He turned his back on her. Damn you, Abby, he raged inwardly. Don't do this to me. Not here. Not now.

  "And what about Sonny? Oh, I know it was silly to be so upset... but you buried him ... for me ... and then you took care of me, Kane... and no one as evil as Stringer Sam would do that for someone else."

  Her voice wobbled traitorously. "I didn't even realize you'd left, and then when I did... I felt so guilty, because you didn't have to do anything for me, but you did ... And I was so worried with you out in that horrible storm ... all I could think was ... what if you were lying out there... hurt... alone ..."

  Kane swallowed, his jaw clenched tight, faying vainly to shut out the sound of her voice. God, he thought rawly. He'd been so convinced she wouldn't even care—that she hadn't even noticed he was gone.

  "Oh, damn . .. What's wrong with me? It's starting all over again ... I'm crying and—" She didn't know her voice had already given her away. "— and I never cry, at least almost never."

  She choked back a sob. It was no use, the sound escaped, tearing Kane's heart to shreds. She lowered her head, unable to see f
or the tears that blinded her. She stumbled and turned, her only intent to get away before she shamed herself further. Only suddenly he was there. Kane.

  And this time he wasn't pushing her away.

  Hard arms engulfed her. He crushed her against him. For the second time that night his thumbs grazed her cheeks, skimming the moisture away. With an effort, she willed away the last scalding rush of tears. His hands slid into her hair. Slowly he pulled her head back.

  His expression was years beyond her experience. His eyes were fire-bright and glittering, a look that stole her breath and sapped the strength from her legs. Hungry was the only word that filled her mind.

  He stared at her mouth.

  She stared at his.

  Time stretched endlessly, gauged only by the ragged rhythm of her heart. Abby knew what it was he wanted .... just as she knew, in some distant corner of her being, that this time there would be no turning back, for either of them.

  But she'd been through too much tonight. She was tired of pretending she was strong, when she wasn't strong at all. She was tired of pretending she wasn't scared, when in reality she was terrified of all that had happened these past days ... terrified of what might happen.

  But Kane meant heat and warmth, his arms safety and security. Beyond that, she refused to analyze any further.

  His mouth still hovered just above hers. Beautifully firm, beautifully sculpted. An odd dryness settled in her throat. All she had to do was lift her head--

  Their lips clung.

  His fingers tightened on her scalp. The pressure of his mouth was sweetly fierce. It struck her that this kiss was totally different from the others they'd shared. Always before there had been an undercurrent of anger, of sheer male domination. But now she sensed he was fighting some dark, desperate demon inside, that he was the one who was scared. The thought made her ache inside. She uttered a low moan. Bare, slender arms crept up to encircle his neck.

  The blanket slid to the floor.

  Kane was lost. The sweet clinging of her mouth and arms, the press of her body against his, soft and rounded and naked... He fought to rein in his runaway emotions, the rampant thunder of desire that raged within him. He wanted her. The desperation that drove him was purely selfish, purely greedy. It didn't matter that she was married. God, it was the last thing on his mind right now! He'd wanted her the moment he'd laid eyes on her back in Laramie. It seemed a lifetime had passed since then, which only made this gut-twisting desire all the more intense.

  His hands drifted, discovering the tender bounty of her breasts, the curve of her waist, the shape and suppleness of her hips. She didn't stop him. God in heaven, she was so warm, so willing ... She let him touch her as if he owned her—and suddenly that was exactly how he felt, his chest bursting, as if she belonged to him and no other. He refused to think of her husband, the man who would soon claim her again. He emptied his mind of all but the fevered clamoring inside him, the driving need to possess her at last. His tongue dove far and deep, a provocative prelude of the act soon to follow.

  His head was spinning when he finally released her mouth. He withdrew only long enough to shed his pants. Dimly he registered that his hands were shaking. He half-turned, giving Abby a heart-catching view of bold, brazen masculinity, unconfined and unrestrained. The glow of the firelight caught the striking perfection of his form in sheer, golden silhouette.

  Her gaze flew wide. She couldn't help it. Her mind skipped back to the time she'd seen him in the lake. There was a difference, she realized numbly. Now he was thoroughly, wantonly aroused. Her breath slammed to a halt. He was so—so .. .Her mind now rushed forward ... Dear Lord, how could he ever .. . how could she ...

  The thought went no further. She felt herself lifted and borne backward. The soft mattress gave beneath her back. Abby was quiveringly aware of his unyielding breadth atop her. And then even that thought faded to nothingness as his mouth sought hers, his kiss deep and rousing.

  His hand slid slowly down her throat. Her pulse began to race. The quick, staccato pounding of her heart was so hard and fast she was certain he could see if not feel it. Her nipples grew tight and tingly, anticipating his touch long before it came.

  Slowly he circled the boundary of each breast, first with his fingertips, then with his palm, coming close to the quivering peaks but never quite touching. The elusive torment was almost more than Abby could stand. She moaned when at last he grazed her throbbing nipples, first one and then the other, toying and circling and teasing. And then his mouth trapped one straining summit, tugging, suckling, lapping until she was awash in mindless sensation, turned completely inside out.

  Her lips parted eagerly as he reclaimed the moist hollow of her mouth, rimming his tongue along the edges of her teeth until hers met his in timid exploration. He crushed her against him. Abby reveled in the contact. He smelled of earth and wind and rain and all at once it seemed she couldn't touch him enough. She ran her hands over the binding tightness of his shoulders and arms in wordless praise. Growing bolder, she splayed her fingers wide in the pelt that grew dark and dense on his chest and belly.

  He groaned again, the sound low and vibrating, echoing in the back of her mouth. The heel of his hand skimmed the hollow of her belly, intent on claiming still more tender prey. She stiffened when strong fingers threaded through the springy down that proclaimed her womanhood. Her heart plunged into a frenzy. Surely he wouldn't touch her there. . .

  He did. With a brash, intimate caress as daring and undaunted as the man himself.

  Her body jerked.

  "Kane—" Softly she cried his name. He silenced her with a devouring kiss, soothing, luring her ever deeper into this dizzying world of passion, one boldly invading finger venturing lower still, even inside her . . . She clutched his shoulders. Did people really do things like this? No. Surely not. But she was stunned when a showering current raced through her, straight to the place his hand now claimed with such blatant possessiveness. She began to tremble. Dear Lord. Was this right or wrong?

  It was heaven. Centered deep within that secret cleft was a tiny nubbin of flesh, so achingly sensitive his first sweeping pass wrung a gasp of wholly unexpected pleasure from her.

  And it was there his fingers now worked, plying with delicate precision, grazing her teasingly, then seeking and delving until at last her hips initiated a tentative, sinuous rhythm of their own. She sensed that pleased him. His groan vibrated against her mouth.

  A peculiar heaviness gathered between her thighs. A strange questing gnawed low in her belly. Every nerve within her was screaming, straining for something more, something just beyond her reach. She whimpered helplessly.

  The low, pleading sound nearly pushed Kane over the edge. He dragged his mouth from hers, staring down at her exquisite features. Her eyes were closed, her lashes dark and still spiky with tears, her lips moist and parted. Her hands had fallen away to rest on either side of her face. Suppressing a groan, he intensified his efforts, the rhythm of his thumb now wildly erotic. His reward came seconds later; her taut flesh convulsed around his fingers.

  A rush of some nameless emotion swept through him. He muttered her name, a touch of ragged harshness to his voice. Kane knew he could hold off no longer. The evidence of her readiness, damp and sleek and lush, still lingered on his fingertips. And he was so achingly full he thought he might burst.

  His chest heaving, he stretched out atop her. The swollen tip of his organ, smooth and round and throbbing, grazed damp, dark curls. His entire body jerked in reaction. The very thought of thrusting deep and hard inside her clinging wet heat obliterated his last vestige of control.

  He buried his head in the musky hollow of her shoulder. With his knees he spread her wide. Squeezing his eyes shut, he opened his mind and senses to the mindless ecstasy he knew awaited him.

  One powerful thrust took him clear to the heat and heart of her.

  His head jerked up; Abby's eyes snapped open. She couldn't withhold the strangled cry that ripped from her
throat and shattered the night. They froze as if they were one—as indeed, they were, both overwhelmingly conscious of his turgid length buried clear to the hilt inside her. Abby lay trembling, her nails digging like talons into the flesh of his shoulders. She prayed desperately that the tearing pain would soon subside.

  Above her, Kane lay utterly still, his heartbeat a drumming echo of her own. He was shocked by her body's fragile resistance ... and what it meant. No, he thought, wholly stunned. How could this be? How could she possibly be a virgin when she was married ... married!

  He was afraid to move, just as afraid not to. His mind told him to back away now, to retreat before it was too late. Christ, it was already too late! But while his mind urged one course, his body retained a primitive will of its own.

  The cords in his neck stood taut. He braced himself above her, only half-aware as he relieved her of the burden of his weight. But his blood was pounding thickly, surging heavily, there where he lay planted so solidly within her.

  God, it felt so good. She felt so good. Especially there where her belly pressed his—soft against hard. Passion soared overpoweringly. He tried to withdraw, only to submit helplessly to the overwhelming demand of his body. He sank into her satin depths once more. Again. And again. And then he was plunging. Driving. Praying the end would come quickly, because he couldn't stop ... Hating himself because he knew he should have been slow and careful and easy, but he couldn't. Dear Lord, he couldn't. A groan rumbled in his chest, the sound low and anguished. He could only give in to the burning frenzy of hunger and need.

  He gritted his teeth. Release claimed him, rolling over and through him, wave after scalding wave. The force of it astounded him. He shuddered, collapsing against her.

  Only a few seconds passed before he rolled off her.

  Abby felt him leave the bed. His recovery was far swifter than her own. Her world was still spinning. Turning her head, she glanced toward the fire just as he stepped into his pants. She sat up slowly, crossing her arms over her breasts, feeling uncertain and naked and exposed as she hadn't earlier. From somewhere she summoned the courage to meet his eyes.