If she hadn’t thrown herself into his arms, he never would have touched her. But once he’d had his arms around her, he hadn’t wanted to let go. Their coats had kept their upper bodies from touching, but he’d felt her silky hair against his cheek and her warm breath in his ear. And that was all it had taken for his heart to gallop and his body to harden to stone.
“I was hoping that you’d come back so I could talk to you again,” she said, shooting him a look from beneath lowered lashes.
He felt a spurt of pleasure and told himself Whoa, cowboy! He’d already had one lesson tonight on how quickly—and with how little effort—she could arouse him. Not that he didn’t want her in his bed. He just had to make sure she understood the rules first. It was sex he wanted, nothing more.
It was like being doused with cold water when she added, “Like I said before, I could really use a friend.”
She emphasized the word friend in a way that told him in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t interested in a relationship that ended up in bed. That was new. That was different. That wasn’t the usual behavior from the women he met. He looked at her with new eyes. As he’d told her before, he’d never had a female friend. The idea definitely sounded intriguing.
The truth was he had few friends of either sex. He lived alone, away from the rest of his family—and the rest of the world, for that matter. As soon as he’d gotten old enough to leave home, he’d gone. With money left to him by his mother, he’d bought himself an isolated cabin at the foot of some of the most beautiful mountains in the world, began running a few cattle and quarter horses, and continued saving as many wounded animals that crossed his path as he could.
So, yeah. He could use a friend.
But he wasn’t ready to give up on the idea of having her in his bed. He didn’t want to scare her off by suggesting that he wanted anything more from her than she was willing to give, so he held out his hand for her to shake and said, “Friends?”
She placed her cold hand in his, and he closed his fingers around it. She met his gaze solemnly. “Friends.”
They were still staring at each other, his heart pounding erratically in his chest, when she rose, easing her trembling hand free. She’d felt it too, he suspected. The spark that had leapt between them whether they wanted it to or not. A need to touch that demanded far more than friendship to be satisfied.
He’d wanted to see what she would do, and he’d gotten his answer. She wasn’t going to cross that line from friend to…something more.
At least, not yet.
He had a sudden thought and asked, “Did you leave a boyfriend behind in Australia?”
She visibly stiffened and responded with a curt “No.” For the first time since she’d arrived, she seemed uneasy being alone with him.
His antenna went up. He debated whether to ask her another question about the supposedly nonexistent boyfriend.
Before he could, she pulled her coat tighter around herself and said, “There was someone. But he’s no longer in the picture.”
He felt relieved that she’d been honest. And then uncomfortable, because it was clear that she’d cared enough—been hurt enough—by whoever it was to want to deny his existence. He wondered if she was still heartbroken, if that was the reason she seemed to want nothing more than friendship from him.
She smiled—or tried to smile—and said, “I’d better be getting back.”
“I’ll ride with you.”
She shook her head. “There’s no need.”
“What about—”
She laid a flat hand on his chest and looked into his eyes. “I’ll be sure to make plenty of noise. I’ll be fine.”
She was right. The bears were barely out of hibernation and still high up in the mountains, and there were plenty of deer, elk, mountain goat, and moose births this spring to feed the mountain lions. And no two-legged villains were likely to threaten her on either Flynn or Grayhawk land.
“When will I see you again?” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.
She smiled with obvious pleasure, and his heart jumped. “How about if I bring a picnic lunch here on Sunday afternoon?”
“Sounds great. In case you were wondering, I love fried chicken.”
She laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.” When she ruffled the fur on Wulf’s back, Devon quivered, imagining the feel of her hands on his naked flesh.
She mounted, waved once, then rode away without looking back.
Be patient, he told himself as he watched her disappear in the darkness. She’s every bit as wild and wounded as any of those animals you’ve rescued. Give her time. Give her space. Win her trust. Then you can woo her and make her yours.
It sounded easier said than it was, because he felt surprisingly impatient. He wanted to taste her lips, to hold her warm, naked body next to his own as he thrust deep inside her.
He was perturbed to realize that he was also imagining the closeness that came from sharing his deepest feelings with someone he cared about—and who cared about him. He knew that picture was false, at least in his experience. He wasn’t sure why he thought he could have that with Philippa Grayhawk. But he wanted it so much he could taste it. And he wanted her…in his bed. So waiting wasn’t going to be easy.
But if Devon had learned anything from the wild animals he’d fostered, it was how to bide his time. And a woman like Pippa was worth the wait.
Chapter 5
EVEN THOUGH THE night air was frigid on the ride home, Pippa felt warm inside. She had a new friend, someone safe with whom she could share her feelings. Someone safe.
Pippa realized she was lying to herself even as she thought the word. Oh, Devon was no physical threat. But emotionally? In the past few months her whole world had been turned upside down, and she desperately needed someone with whom to have a normal, uncontentious conversation. She needed someone she could confide in, even if she had to be careful what she said. It was no surprise that she’d offered friendship to a perfect stranger.
The problem was whether they could remain merely friends.
Pippa was far more physically attracted to Devon Flynn than she wanted—or had expected—to be. She had the uncomfortable feeling—an honest fear, considering her circumstances—that the spark she’d felt arcing between them could easily be fanned into a fiery blaze. That complicated everything. It felt like she was standing on the edge of a high cliff, and that a strong wind was swirling around her, threatening to shove her off.
Pippa felt exhilarated by the danger. She felt excited and alive in a way she hadn’t since the day Tim had shattered all her dreams of happiness. So what if she had to walk a tightrope to keep Devon at arm’s distance. So what if she had to keep her body on a tight leash when she was near him. She could do it. To start with, there would be no more hugs.
She would miss that closeness. As she’d held tight to Devon tonight she’d relished the feel of his warm flesh under her fingertips and the rough stubble of his beard against her cheek. She’d smelled clean male sweat and pine and wool—scents that she would forever link to him. She was tall, like her dad, but Devon was several inches taller, and his strong arms had held her tight, making her feel protected. It had been wonderful to lean on him, to know he was there to support her.
If not for her experience with Tim, she might have let the embrace continue. She’d known Devon wanted to hold her longer, but she’d backed away to protect them both. She had a secret that made any sort of romantic relationship impossible to contemplate. On the other hand, having a friend would make her life at Kingdom Come so much better—especially a friend who understood how horrid the Brats could be.
She was still reveling in the euphoria of her upcoming picnic with Devon on Sunday when she led her mount into the stable and ran right into her father.
“Where the hell have you been? I was worried sick! Are you all right?”
Pippa was taken aback. “I’m fine, Daddy.” She’d lived in the Australian Outback all her li
fe—with some of the most poisonous snakes and spiders in the world—and her father had never sounded as concerned as he did right now.
“When you raced out of the house like that I wasn’t sure what you would do.” He hesitated and added, “Or where you would go.”
She noticed the tightness of his jaw and realized he hadn’t just been worried about her safety, he’d been scared that she might have run away and disappeared, as he had so long ago.
“I went for a ride.” She would have explained that she’d needed some quiet time to herself, but he never gave her the chance.
“You can’t be traipsing around all hours of the day and night in your condition. What if you’d been thrown and injured? You have to think about the baby—and yourself. Anything could have happened.”
“But it didn’t! I’m not a child. I’m a grown woman, old enough to take care of myself.”
“You haven’t done such a good job of that so far,” he snapped back.
Pippa felt shame wash over her. And responded with defiance. “I won’t make the same mistake again. You have to let me live my life.”
“It’s not just you anymore,” he persisted. “There’s another life involved here. I know more than you can imagine about what you’re about to go through.”
“How could you have any inkling of what it feels like—”
“I’ve been a single parent,” he said, cutting her off. “It’s harder than you can imagine.”
The words seemed torn from him, and Pippa realized he was sharing his own painful experience as a way of expressing his anxiety over what lay ahead for her.
“You mean raising me.”
He nodded. “I was younger than you are now, but I knew from the start that you were the most important thing in my life. I wasn’t about to let anything—or anyone—get in the way of my taking care of you.”
Pippa wondered if King had been one of the people “in the way.” Was that why her father had fled his home and stayed gone forever after? Because King didn’t think he should be a teenage parent?
She asked the question that had never left her thoughts. “What happened to my mother?”
A look of agony crossed his face.
In the past, she’d let him sidestep the issue, but this time she wanted an answer. “Please, Daddy. I’d like to know.”
“You’d better take care of your horse.”
Pippa began unsaddling her mount, but she wasn’t going to let him get away with distracting her yet again. She glanced over her shoulder and said, “It’s time, don’t you think?” She tried to sound calm, but her heart was thundering in her chest.
A long breath shuddered out of him, and he stuck both hands in the back pockets of his Levi’s. “We were both too young. Her parents wouldn’t let her keep you. So I took you.”
She stopped what she was doing and turned to face him. “I presume Grandpa King didn’t want you to raise me.”
“It wasn’t that simple,” he said flatly.
Before she could ask him to explain further he said, “Suffice it to say, I know how hard it is to be both mother and father to a child. It’s a tremendous responsibility. And it starts with taking care of yourself.”
She unlashed the cinch and hauled both saddle and blanket off, intending to lay them on a nearby sawhorse, but her father took them out of her hands.
“I’m not sure you should be carrying heavy stuff like this.”
She pursed her lips and stuck her balled fists on her hips. The saddle took effort to lift, but it didn’t weigh much more than a bag of groceries. “I’m not sick. I’m just pregnant.”
“Have you been to the doctor for a checkup? Have you asked him what you can and can’t do?”
She led her mount into a stall and pulled off the bridle, easing the bit out of the horse’s mouth, then closed the stall door and hung the bridle on a peg. “Women have been having babies for eons and working in the fields until the day they deliver.”
“And dying along with those babies,” he interjected. “Pregnancy is serious business. You can’t ignore what’s coming.”
“I’m not. And you’re being ridiculous.”
He reached out and brushed her long blond hair behind her shoulder. It was the sort of gesture that had been common when she was a child, but which he’d stopped doing once she’d blossomed into a young woman. He looked into her eyes and said, “I don’t want to lose you, Pippa.”
She took a step closer and put her arms around his waist as she laid her head against his beating heart. “You won’t.”
A moment later she felt his arms tighten around her. “I love you, kid,” he whispered in her ear.
“Love you more,” she answered.
“Love you most.”
She stayed where she was until her horse whickered, then let go and took an awkward step back. “I need to brush him down.”
“I’ll do it.”
“Daddy—”
“Let me do this for you. You must be tired.”
She was exhausted, but she had no intention of admitting it.
“Nathan was asking for you,” he said. “I told him you’d give him a kiss good night when you got back.”
Her little brother had looked lost ever since they’d moved to Wyoming, but he’d never once complained. Pippa felt a spurt of guilt that she’d missed reading him a story at bedtime tonight, which had become part of their evening routine.
“All right,” she said at last. “Thanks, Daddy.” She leaned over to kiss his cheek, then hurried from the barn, mulling over the tiny pearl of information she’d gleaned about her mother. If her father had finally answered one question, maybe he would answer others. Was her mother still alive? Did she live here in Jackson? Had her father returned so he could see her again at long last?
Pippa was even more excited about the upcoming picnic now than she had been before the conversation with her father. Maybe Devon knew the answers to some of her questions. Maybe he even knew who her mother was! Pippa couldn’t wait to ask him on Sunday.
Chapter 6
MATT WAS BESIDE himself with worry for his daughter, but he had several other desperate irons in the fire as well. He’d had a harrowing meeting with his father tonight, at the end of which he’d headed to the barn for some solitude and discovered that the horse Pippa usually rode was missing—along with his daughter. Thank goodness she’d returned when she had.
As he brushed down Pippa’s mount, he replayed the scene with his father, wondering if he could have said or done anything differently to keep the situation from becoming less dire than it was.
King had sent the housekeeper to summon Matt to his office, which had immediately set up Matt’s hackles. When Matt arrived, his father said, “Close the door and sit down.”
“I’ll stand.”
“Do what you want. You always did,” King retorted.
“Why am I here?”
King fiddled with some papers on his desk, then turned his swivel chair so he was staring out at the starry night sky, his back to Matt. “When are those quarter horses you bought supposed to arrive?”
“You called me in here to ask me that? I told you at supper.” Matt felt his blood pressure rising. King had ruled his first three children—Libby, North, and Matt—with an iron hand. He’d kept Libby separated from the love of her life for years. North had moved to Texas to escape their father’s influence. And Matt, well, Texas hadn’t been far enough. He’d run all the way to Australia. Matt had no intention of letting King fall back into old habits.
He was turning to leave when King swiveled his chair back around and said, “Answer me!”
Something in his father’s tone suggested more than just curiosity. Matt hesitated, then turned back, his feet spread wide and his shoulders back. “The end of the week.”
“When is final payment due?”
“On delivery.”
His father pursed his lips and grunted with disapproval.
“You told me I had free rein to sp
end whatever was necessary to make this place a working ranch again,” Matt said. “Is there some problem?”
“Sit down. Please.”
Matt made a face at the two chairs in front of his father’s desk, which were purposely set low so that whoever sat there felt like some kind of supplicant to the throne. Then he settled on the arm of one of the two couches on either side of the stone fireplace across the room. “What’s going on?”
“That sonofabitch Angus Flynn has me backed into a corner.”
That got Matt’s attention. Matt’s uncle had been trying to ruin King financially for twenty years. According to what Matt had learned since he’d been home, Angus had interfered—or tried to interfere—in every business deal King had gotten involved in. Mostly, his behavior had been a nuisance. But if his father had called him in here to discuss the situation, maybe this time it was more than that. “What’s he done now?”
“He’s got his big, fat camel’s nose under my tent.”
“Which affects me how?”
King snorted. “I’ve invested most of the funds that support the ranch in a venture that turned out to be a bit more risky than I anticipated—thanks to that low-down scheming pond scum.”
Matt ignored the verbal castigation of his uncle. Angus could defend himself if it came to that. But he felt a chill run down his spine at what his father seemed to be saying. “How much is at risk?”
“I’ve got enough money to pay for those quarter horses you bought, but you can’t invest in any other improvements until this venture is tied up with a bow.”
Matt rose to his feet. “When will that be?”
“The deal will be done when it’s done.”
Matt took the few steps to reach his father’s desk, placing his palms on the battered oak as he leaned across the cluttered surface and put himself nose-to-nose with King. “That’s not what we agreed. You offered me free rein here, but that’s not going to happen if I can’t spend money. I knew I couldn’t trust you!” He rose abruptly and snarled, “What am I supposed to do until you—or Uncle Angus—finishes what you’ve started? Sit around and twiddle my thumbs?”
Shameless Page 5