Kara looked at each of the kids, then at Mac, who was still holding her hands, keeping her locked in place as he studied her with nerve-tingling intensity. Kara’s breath caught in her throat. If she hadn’t gleaned the need of sexual desire from the primitive hunger glittering in his dark eyes, the hard heat of his body provided ample physical evidence. Being needed in this urgent, provocative way both thrilled and scared her.
Swiftly, Kara pulled her hands away from his and moved away from him, acutely aware of the flush staining her skin.
“I guess I’ll get out of these wet clothes, so I won’t be at risk for the sniffles,” Mac said drolly, shooting his older nephew a wry look.
Brick snickered and faked a few more sneezes as Mac exited.
To Kara’s surprise, when she suggested that Clay, Autumn and Brick go to their rooms to get ready for bed, they did so without offering a single protest or argument. Lily stayed to help her clean up the kitchen, further astonishing her, given the girl’s earlier response to Mac’s demand to help.
“You did an excellent job of handling Uncle Mac tonight, Kara,” Lily said approvingly as she sloshed a mop through a puddle of water on the floor. “You stepped right in when he went nuclear and you smoothed things over.” The girl smiled slyly. “And getting him all hot for you was definitely a good move on your part. Not even those wet clothes could keep him from—”
“Lily!” Kara interrupted, blushing and aghast.
“I bet he’s taking an ice-cold shower right now,” Lily continued gleefully. “So how long are you going to hold out? Not too long, I hope, because Uncle Mac is—”
“Lily, please!”
“You’re blushing!” Lily was delighted. “That is soooo cute!”
“Not again!” Kara groaned.
“It seems to me that someone who blushes at the thought of Uncle Mac in the shower is not secretly and madly in love with a married man,” Lily declared, staring intently at Kara. “Am I right?”
Kara dropped the sponge she was using to wipe the table. Shame blanketed her. “I’m sorry you had to hear that, Lily. It’s not true and I shouldn’t have said it. I—”
“Oh, I know why you said it,” Lily interrupted grimly. “Like Uncle Mac gave you any choice! I already told him how dumb he was, just in case he didn’t know it. And he didn’t!”
The thought of Mac and Lily discussing her made Kara cringe. Nor was she comfortable discussing Mac with his teenage niece. But Lily was not about to let the subject drop.
“Why won’t men admit what they want instead of always finding some stupid reason to deny it?” Lily continued, her voice rising in agitation. “It can’t be an honest, ‘I’m crazy about you and want you to live with me.’ Oh, no, instead it has to be, ‘stay here and watch the kids because you don’t have anyone else in your life.’ Why can’t it be, ‘I’m in love with you’ instead of, ‘you’re too young for me and I hate it that I want you so much’?”
Kara was mortified by the first reference, which she knew was about her and Mac, and curious about the second which seemed a likely allusion to Lily herself. “Is that what—what Mr. ‘Paradise’ said to you? And what he didn’t say?” she added quietly.
“Mr. Paradise,” Lily repeated, grimacing. “Yeah, that’s him, all right, and that’s what he said. And what he should have said. It’s stupid, Kara. We’re so right for each other, but he’s grabbed onto the age thing...” She wrung out the mop with a startling ferocity. “Where are all those new-age guys who are supposed to be so open with their feelings? And how come you and I got stuck with retro-macho types who would rather be branded with a hot iron than admit they need a woman for something besides sex?”
“And child care,” murmured Kara, in spite of herself.
Lily nodded her agreement.
“This man you’re seeing,” Kara said carefully, “does your Uncle Mac know him?”
Yesterday the girl had proclaimed her lust for Webb Asher, the ranch manager, Kara recalled. For one paralyzing moment, she wondered if he could possibly be Lily’s secret lover.
Kara instantly dismissed the idea. Lily had been playfully teasing when she’d made those remarks about coveting his body, and Webb Asher certainly had not acted like a man enraptured, however unwillingly. He’d tied Lily to a chair, flicked her away from him as if she were a mosquito and stormed from the kitchen to get away from her! No, Webb Asher couldn’t be the man. Kara felt a modicum of relief for that fact.
“Yes, Uncle Mac knows him, but that’s all I can say.” Lily shrugged. “I know we’ve bonded tonight, but it’s better if you don’t know the name of my—of him, Kara. You’d feel obligated to tell Uncle Mac.”
“And he would...go berserk?” Kara nervously wondered aloud.
“Maybe. Probably.” Lily sighed. “Definitely.”
Kara winced, imagining the scene. “Lily, I wish I had some wise advice to give you, something that could—”
“The only advice you could give me that I’d listen to would be ‘Go for it, girl.’”
“Not knowing any of the details, I couldn’t, in all good conscience, tell you that, Lily.”
“I know.” Lily returned the mop to the small utility closet. “I guess I’ll go to bed now. After all, I have to get up for school tomorrow.” Her dour expression left no doubts as to how she felt about that requirement. But she paused on the threshold, before leaving the kitchen and cast Kara a sudden, brilliant smile. “Hey, Kara, tonight? Go for it, girl!”
Seven
“Go for it, girl!” Lily’s inspirational cheer rang in Kara’s ears as she checked on Clay and Autumn, and ended up tucking them into their beds. Both of them put their arms around her and kissed her good-night. Their easy acceptance of her warmed Kara’s heart. They wanted her here.
She stood outside Brick’s and Lily’s doors and called a good-night to each. They responded with friendly good-nights of their own. Kara knew that as far as they were concerned, she was welcome to stay.
Mac wanted her here, too, though his motives were unmistakably self-serving. But without Uncle Will around to remind her, his motives didn’t seem to matter as much as the fact that she was wanted. And needed. That she’d finally found a place where she felt she belonged.
“Go for it, girl,” indeed! Lily’s voice echoed in her head again. She and Mac weren’t playing a game that required bold moves and tactical strategy. Kara gulped. Were they? Certainly Lily seemed to see relationships between men and women as something akin to war games.
Well, she did not, Kara assured herself. She was caught in an admittedly strange situation here, but she would behave like the mature and honest woman that she was.
That meant no game-playing, no bold moves or audacious strategy. It meant fixing a plate of food to take to Mac because he hadn’t returned to the kitchen, and she knew he must be hungry because he’d missed eating dinner.
Kara carried the heaping plate, a glass of orange juice and a fork and napkin to Mac’s room. After bringing him dinner she would turn in, she decided. Though it wasn’t very late, she was still adjusting to the time-zone changes. And it had been a very, very long day.
She knocked lightly on his bedroom door.
“Come in.”
At the sound of his voice, a surge of fevered blood rushed to her cheeks, turning them scarlet. Her heart began to pound in her ears. “I can’t open the door, my hands are full.” Her voice was husky and she was suddenly breathless. “I brought you some dinner.”
The door swung open. Mac stood before her, wearing a thick white toweling robe. He was rubbing his hair dry with a smaller towel. His eyes flicked over the big plate containing servings of chicken, potato salad, coleslaw, rolls and a piece of pumpkin cake.
“What? No Jell-O?” His dark eyes gleamed.
Kara chuckled. “Since it became a weapon, it’s off the menu.”
“Good idea. One never knows when the irresistible urge to fling it might strike.” He took the plate from her. “I guess I overreact
ed in a major way tonight, yelling and chasing through the house like a maniac.” He shook his head ruefully.
“You had reason to be provoked.” Kara found herself defending him. “I mean, after driving all day to bring Brick back, probably the last thing you needed was a food fight in your kitchen.”
“No, that was the next to the last thing. The penultimate. The arrival of the Franklins was the last thing I needed.” He carried the plate over to the wide armchair and ottoman under the window, and sat down. “I wondered if you were going to call the Rev and ask him to come back out here and take you into town tonight.”
“No. I decided not to.” Kara walked over to hand him the glass of juice.
Mac stared askance at the orange juice. “Isn’t there any coffee?”
She shook her head. “It’s too late to drink coffee, the caffeine will keep you awake for hours. And the only other choice of beverage was milk or Mad Cougar malt liquor. I’ll go back to the kitchen if you’d rather have milk, but I won’t get you that poisonous-looking brew with the rabid wildcat logo on the can.”
Mac grinned. “The juice will be fine. Will you keep me company while I eat?” he asked politely.
Kara glanced at the thick closed bedroom door and at Mac, who was balancing the plate of food on his lap. “All right.” Her voice sounded wary and hesitant to her own ears. “For a little while.”
She sat down tentatively on the edge of the bed. Other than the ottoman at Mac’s feet, the bed was the only place in the room left to sit.
“While I was in the shower, I was thinking up ways of disabling Reverend Will’s car so he couldn’t take you into town,” Mac remarked, biting into the chicken. “Good thing you didn’t call him.”
“Mac, I...really, I...” Kara twisted her fingers, embarrassed at her incoherence. She imagined Lily observing them and rolling her dark brown eyes in exasperation. “Go for it, girl!”
Kara bolted to her feet. “I have to check on Tai and then go to bed. I—”
“Later,” Mac interrupted firmly. His dark eyes, intense as lasers, held her in place as effectively as solid restraints.
Kara sat back down. “You must be terribly tired, I know I am. And after the day you’ve had, you must be looking forward to getting some rest. You never did say how long it took you to find Brick and what the sheriff said.”
Kara flushed in dismay. She’d gone from inarticulate to babbling. Just sitting here watching Mac was arousing her. She scorned herself. How could anyone look sexy tearing into a chicken leg?
But Mac managed the impossible. She stared as his white teeth bit into the fried batter on the skin, saw his tongue flick at the corners of his lips...his lips, well-shaped and sensual, firm and warm. The taste and the feel of his mouth seemed to be imprinted on her brain, and the sensuous memory was instantly summoned.
Kara pressed her thighs tightly together and crossed her arms over her breasts. Beneath the double layer of blouse and bra, she could feel her nipples tighten into hard little points.
Mac continued eating, devouring his dinner with relish. Kara was grateful he was unaware of her inner turmoil.
“The boys had a couple hours’ head start on us,” he said, breaking the silence to finally respond to her desperate attempt at conversation. “But Jack—Jack Tate—he’s the sheriff—radioed the state police to be on the lookout for the car and warned them not to spook the kids into a high-speed chase. Nothing like that happened, thank God. The state troopers were great with Brick and Jimmy. They took them to the highway patrol headquarters where Jack and I picked them up there.”
“I hope there weren’t any charges filed?”
“No.” Mac shook his head. “Not this time. But whatever the state troopers said made a definite impression on both boys. I don’t think they’ll pull that particular stunt again. And, of course, Jack and I added our own two cents’ worth on the drive home. He took Jimmy Crow and I drove back with Brick.” Mac grimaced. “He talked me into listening to some of his tapes. The alleged music kids today are listening to is nothing less than appalling. I’ve heard car alarms that sound better.”
Kara grinned. “Careful. You sound like an old grouch bemoaning the moronic tastes and witless ways of the younger generation.”
“I’m an old grouch who’s speaking the truth. Their tastes are moronic and their ways are witless.”
They both laughed. Mac put the plate and fork on the small table next to the chair. He’d eaten everything but the piece of pumpkin cake.
“You don’t want dessert?” Kara asked, glancing at the rejected piece of cake.
“Not that stuff. Pumpkin belongs in a pie, not in a cake.” Mac stood and walked toward her, a satyr’s grin lighting his face. “I’m interested in a different kind of dessert.” He sat beside her at the foot of the bed. “And so are you.”
Kara’s heart leapt into her throat. Her head snapped up to meet his utterly confident, tempting smile. “I—um—I have to get out of here,” she murmured. Was she telling Mac, or issuing a warning to herself?
Whatever, she didn’t move.
“Thank you for bringing me dinner,” Mac said softly, reaching over to comb his fingers through her thick, straight, light brown hair. “It was very thoughtful of you.”
Kara’s eyes were level with his chest, and she stared at the whiteness of his cotton robe, a stark contrast to his tanned skin. The open V of the robe exposed a swatch of wiry black chest hair. For the first time since she’d entered the room, she became fully aware that he was nude beneath that robe. And here she was, sitting on the bed with him. And still she didn’t move.
“Lie down,” Mac said in a velvety voice.
Kara gaped at him, too rattled to speak.
Gently, yet inexorably, his hands settled on her shoulders and pressed her back onto the mattress. He lay down beside her, his dark eyes sweeping over her with a possessive intensity that sent frissons of fear and excitement through her. But even the fear was exciting, almost exhilarating, and she lay there under his watchful eyes, her body quivering with piercing arousal.
“Such big eyes. They’re as round as saucers.” Mac’s lips curved with amused affection. He bent his head to kiss each of her eyelids.
Kara’s eyes dropped closed and she couldn’t seem to summon the strength to open them again. She was filled with a hot syrupy warmth that rendered her limbs heavy and turgid, and she had neither the strength nor the energy to move them. Mac solved that problem by positioning her as if she were a doll, lifting her leg over his, then caressing the length of it, from the curve of her buttock along the outside of her thigh to her knee.
“You have great legs,” Mac murmured his approval. “Long and shapely. I want to see them. As good as you look in those jeans, let’s get you out of them.”
The meaning of his words didn’t seem to penetrate the sensual cloud enveloping her. It was his tone, a low sexy growl that infiltrated, and she squirmed with pleasure.
Ribbons of desire coiled tightly through her as his palm made a return journey, gliding leisurely along the inside of her thigh, his fingers lightly kneading. When he reached the heated juncture between her legs, he placed his hand there, a bold claiming with no tentative touches or gropes.
This time his intent registered loud and clear. A gasp tore from her throat, and Kara sprang upright. Even then he kept his hand in place. Kara paled, then blushed hotly at the sight of it, holding her so intimately.
“Mac, please.” Her voice sounded like a faraway whimper. “This—I—we hardly know each other,” she finished weakly. The warmth of his hand was suffusing her womanhood; she was damp and throbbing and aching. If he didn’t move his hand...
He didn’t.
Kara lay back down on the bed, mesmerized by the agony of longing streaking through her. The invasion of his hand had shocked her, but now it was not enough. She wanted more than its firm, warm pressure. She wanted, she wanted...
He released her, sliding his hand up and over her stomach. When
he quickly unfastened the first metal button of her jeans, she rallied her wits enough to stop him, covering his hand with hers. Their fingers tangled.
He was working on the second button; she was trying to still those deft fingers of his. “Mac, we’ve only known each other two days,” she reminded him breathlessly.
He caught her hand and carried it to his lips. The tip of his tongue touched the center of her palm, and she felt the effects of that simple caress exactly where he meant her to.
He smiled at her. “Honey, in this house one day equals five years. Make that five years of doing hard time in prison.”
The moment the imminent sexual pressure eased, so did Kara’s protests. The aura of intimacy was so pervasive and alluring that she didn’t even consider getting up from the bed, much less leaving the room. It seemed so inordinately right to be lying here with Mac, as he kissed and played with her fingers and watched her with his warm dark brown eyes.
“And since we’ve known each other two days, that means we’ve been together the equivalent of...how long?”
“Ten years?”
“You really are a math whiz,” Mac teased. “But the fully correct answer is ten years hard prison time.”
As if of their own volition, her hands were learning the features of his face, stroking the high cheekbones, the strong line of his jaw, the hard tanned column of his neck. “Being here is not like being in prison, Mac,” she admitted softly.
“No?” His own hands were moving over her curves with long sweeping strokes. “You think you could get used to it here?” He kneaded her shoulders, and her muscles seemed to melt under his strong fingers. The same thing happened when he massaged her back.
“I’m already used to it. I like it here.” She had neither the will nor the energy to keep anything from him. Not when his clever hands were rendering her pliant and bonelessly relaxed, not when his mouth was bestowing light, butterfly kisses on her forehead, her cheeks, along the sensitive cord of her neck.
Wilde Bunch Page 13