Jesse's Renegade (#3 of the Danner Quartet)

by Nancy Bush

  Jesse was stretched out on the chaise lounge, reading the paper in so thoroughly an engrossed manner that Kelsey was certain he was putting on an act. “They’re gone.”

  “Gone?” Her voice trembled faintly. “Gone?”

  “I had the maid take them and give them to the underprivileged.”

  “I don’t have the courage to ask what I’m supposed to wear until Mrs. Honeycutt finishes those gowns you ordered.”

  “She’s sending the first one over tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Did you leave me some underclothes?” Kelsey asked sarcastically. “The room is swept clean!”

  “There should be some in the bureau drawer.”

  “What about a nightgown?”

  “Sleep in your drawers. Or naked, if you prefer.” He glanced her way.

  She envisioned creative ways to murder him. Garrotting would be nice. No, better yet, she would like to string him up by his – his – his – Her mind shut down at this rather colorful image, and she glanced away, plotting new destructive ways to make his life as miserable as he’d made hers.

  Speechless with rage she returned to her room. The outline of her derringer was clear inside her soft suede reticule. Snatching up the bag, she considered holding him at gunpoint until he ordered the maid to return her clothes. But that was hopeless, she realized instantly, helplessly. It had been hours since the maid had cleaned their room today. There was no chance she would get her belongings back; Jesse would have seen to that. In fact, before dinner he’d taken her with him on a pleasant sightseeing trip which had surprised and pleased her. Now she realized he’d had ulterior motives.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded.

  She gasped at the voice so close to her ear. Whipping around, she was overcome by renewed anger at the sight of his handsome form leaning negligently in the open doorway.

  “I’m going to kill you,” she said flatly. “I’ve never really wanted to kill someone in cold blood before. It’s quite a new experience. Frankly, I like it.”

  “How are you going to kill me?” His gaze drifted to the weighted bag swinging from her hand. “Bash me over the head with your purse?”

  “I’m going to shoot you,” she said calmly, drawing out the derringer and checking the chambers. How dare he stand there and mock her!

  “You really know how to use that thing?”

  He sounded curious, interested. So he’d forgotten her prowess with a rifle, Kelsey realized with grim humor. He knew nothing about her. Nothing!

  “Actually, no,” she lied, sounding a bit worried. “Let’s see. Lift…” She raised the derringer and held it in front of her, letting trepidation cross her mobile face. “Aim…” She centered the barrel just to the left of Jesse face. “And pull the trigger.”

  Jesse body slammed hard into Kelsey, dropping them both to the floor. The force knocked Kelsey’s hand, and a shot exploded into the wall, blasting a rain of plaster over them as the derringer skidded from her grasp and under the bed.

  “You crazy fool!” he shouted in shock. “Damn you! God damn you!”

  “I didn’t – mean – to –”

  He was shaking her so hard her teeth rattled and her neck felt like it would snap. She couldn’t catch her breath. Dazed and frightened, she was stunned the pistol had actually discharged.

  “Let – me – go –” she gasped out, closing her eyes against the sickening whirling inside her head. Oh, Lord, she was going to be sick! His weight was crushing her chest. Her lungs screamed for air. Her head ached where it banged against the floor.

  “The hell I will. You bloodthirsty witch! If you ever try anything like that again, I’ll kill you!”

  “You’re – hurting – me.”

  “I’d like to break your neck!”

  He released her so swiftly her shoulders thumped to the ground. Turning her head to the side, she gulped air, fighting back the dizzying nausea rising in her throat. She could have killed him.

  He was supporting his weight on his hands, staring down at her, his expression ferocious and malevolent. Kelsey eyes fluttered closed, both to block out his murderous face and to keep from to succumbing to nausea.

  “I wouldn’t have pulled the trigger,” she said in a small voice. “Surely you know that.”

  “Oh, really?” he snarled. “That’s how people get killed. Surely you know that.”

  Harsh pounding sounded against the outer door. Jesse rolled to his feet and away from Kelsey. She heard him answer the frightened queries of other guests in a hard, uncompromising tone, assuring them that yes, they heard a gunshot and no, no one was hurt.

  Kelsey was shaking all over from the aftermath. It had been a stupid, stupid thing to do. She should have guessed he’d defend himself rather than trust that she was simply baiting him. And he was right. That was how people got killed. She’d never before done something so irresponsible in her life.

  The hotel manager rang the bell a few minutes later and Kelsey heard Jesse offer him more assurances as well. When the manager entered the bedroom to examine the damage, Kelsey had collected herself enough to take a seat on the edge of the bed. She didn’t care to meet Jesse’s eyes; the fury emanating from him came off in waves. Mollified, the manager finally left but not before throwing a harsh look Kelsey’s way.

  Then they were alone again. Kelsey watched Jesse’s booted feet come to a stop three feet in front of her. “That was a stupid, reckless thing to do,” he told her coldly. “There’s nothing more dangerous than a woman who carries a gun and doesn’t know the first thing about how to use it. Who gave that derringer to you? You’re lucky it was me you shot at, instead of someone else. You could have landed in jail, or worse.” His tone was dire, filled with repressed fury and fear for her safety and his own.

  “I’m not – unskilled,” Kelsey admitted, feeling slightly better now that the world had stopped bucking and weaving. She could breathe and she did so in great gulps. Color had returned to her gray-washed cheeks.

  “Not unskilled?” Jesse was scornful. “It’s only by the grace of God that I didn’t get my head blown off.”

  “No, I –”

  “Shut up, Kelsey. Just shut up and admit that for once in your life you were wrong!”

  She turned her head away from him, but he reached out and yanked her chin back, forcing her remorseful gaze to meet his determined one. The pure folly of her recklessness filled her with deep distress. “I was wrong,” she admitted in a quiet voice.

  He stared at her and the moments ticked by. Tense moments. Reaction made her weak and emotional. All her life she’d let pride and recklessness overcome her better sense. In the last four years with Agatha and Charlotte, she thought she’d learned forbearance and maturity, but in a matter of weeks – ever since Jesse had barreled into her life again – she’d reverted to the wild child she’d once been. Pride, and the need to show off, had made her aim at him. Though she was too good a marksman to actually hit him even if she’d pulled the trigger, he could have startled her into making a mistake. After all, she hadn’t planned for the gun to discharge. They were both lucky to escape injury.

  The gamut of her emotions played across her face. Her mouth trembled and she heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry.”

  The sudden transition from wild assassin to tremulous woman melted Jesse’s fury. He didn’t trust the change, however. He’d underestimated her once; he wouldn’t do it again. “Not until I have your word that you’ll never touch a gun again. Any gun. Any type of firearms.”

  “If I give you my word, will you believe me?”

  “If you give me your word and mean it,” Jesse countered, searching, and rightly so, that there was a catch somewhere.

  Kelsey could never promise something so ingrained in her overall personality. But she wasn’t above lying. “I give you my word.”

  Jesse searched her eyes – eyes now filled with innocence instead of remorse. Too much innocence. “You’ll try it again, won’t you?” he said in wonder. “The next ti
me you get your hands on a gun, or any other kind of weapon, you’ll try to murder me!”

  “No, I won’t.” Kelsey was sincere. “I didn’t intend for the gun to fire at all.”

  “Liar,” he whispered softly, entranced by the sight of those soft, lying lips. “You would think I’d have learned my lesson,” he muttered.

  “About what?” Kelsey tried to scoot across the bed, interpreting his heavy-lidded gaze correctly. “Don’t!” she warned as he leaned toward her, his hands on her shoulders.

  “Don’t what?” His tone was gentle and seductive as one hand curved around the back of her neck, lifting her chin and mouth to his rampant gaze, drawing her lips inexorably, inch by inch, toward his.

  “If you kiss me, I’ll – I’ll go back on my promise!”

  He laughed softly. “You didn’t mean it anyway.”

  “I mean it now, Jesse,” she breathed in fright. “I will never, ever, pick up a gun. Ever. For the rest of my life.”

  He hesitated, his mouth a hairbreadth away, his brandy-laced breath mingling with hers. “I believe I’ve found the means to keep you in line,” he said in amusement.

  “If you kiss me, I won’t be responsible for the fate that befalls you!” she threatened.

  Challenging him was her gravest error, Kelsey realized later. For a heartbeat, he’d seemed willing to listen, but flinging that threat in his face had forced his decision – and cost her dearly. His mouth came down on hers, cool and insistent. Kelsey’s heart slammed into her ribs.

  In a voice muffled by her trembling lips, he warned, “Don’t fight me. I’ll win.”

  That cold, determined tone caused her to tremble all over. He was right. She found this tender assault much more frightening than any other means of bending her to his will that he could have come up with.

  Jesse deepened the kiss, his mouth moving over hers familiarly. Kelsey was momentarily frozen. She didn’t want to want him, but she did, and though she knew this was Jesse’s way of taking some small revenge, she couldn’t deny that she enjoyed his kisses more than any others she’d ever experienced.

  Until Jesse, in fact, she’d never wanted to kiss anyone back. She’d always wondered why women looked as if they were about to swoon when a man glued his lips to theirs. Kelsey had often asked herself what magic occurred at that moment to glaze over the couple’s eyes and elevate their breathing. She’d been certain she was immune and was perplexed and relieved and slightly dismayed that this was so.

  Now, however, she knew differently. The melting sensation that was starting somewhere in her abdomen was spreading to her thighs and stomach, and her head felt both fuzzy and light. The hard pressure of his mouth was welcome. When he slid the tip of his tongue along the crease of her lips, seeking entrance, she had no compunction about honoring that request. As soon as her mouth parted, his tongue plunged into the sweetness within, then slowly withdrew, then plunged again in a blatant imitation of the act he was beginning to make crave.

  Kelsey was dazed, pliant, utterly bemused. When he lifted his head to gaze down at her, she reacted on instinct, her hands curving around his neck in helpless ardor, bringing his mouth back to hers. Jesse’s kisses became more demanding, his tongue more insistent, his hands sliding down her rib cage and over her hips, possessively exploring each tender curve and trembling contour.

  A war was waging inside his head. An insistent beat hammered at his brain: She’s my wife… she’s my wife… she’s my wife. He had every right to take what she so sweetly offered. He wanted to. Every fiber was straining right now to finish what had been so innocently begun.

  Jesse had never stood on principle. He’d taken whatever came his way, and, by God, something as right as this would never be questioned. But there was more going on here than just sex. He wasn’t even sure he liked Kelsey, and though that had hardly mattered in his past, it mattered now. They were stuck with each other for the time being; he needed her as a partner. He didn’t want to get tangled up with other man/woman problems until he’d resolved things with Montana once and for all. Maybe not even then.

  But God she felt good.

  His hand slid restlessly up her midriff. Through the lavender silk he caressed the mound of her breasts. Through the lavender silk he felt her nipple crest into a hard bud. In the dark recesses of his brain he recalled the shape of those breasts beneath her soft camisole. He wanted to see her again and reached for the buttons at her throat at the same instant he reseized her lips in a devouring kiss.

  Kelsey watched through the veil of her lashes as Jesse systematically undid the line of her buttons. His concentration was so fierce it left her breathless. He was undressing her. Undressing her! And she was letting him.

  “Wait.” She stilled his hand with one of her own. Beneath their tightly clasped fingers she could feel her wild and rampant heartbeat.

  He gazed down at her a long moment. There was no teasing light in his eyes now. He was deadly earnest and intent. Kelsey was shattered by that look. She was powerless to do anything but stare back, wide-eyed.

  His attention shifted to the buttons. Beneath her gown she wore only the thin camisole, and when Jesse pulled open the bodice of her dress, exposing her breasts, the dark buds of her nipples stood erect against the shiny satin.

  He lowered his mouth to one and sucked the bud right through the camisole. Kelsey gasped in surprise and pure pleasure. She hadn’t expected such a blatant assault. Her back arched upward, and the moan in her throat was raw and trembling with awakened desire.

  Jesse was startled by the tormenting sweetness of her response. He’d expected her to scream, or panic, or beat her fists against his back – something besides this passionate surrender. He’d told himself he would go on until she stopped him, knowing that her frigid, albeit currently belated, nature would undoubtedly surge forward as soon as he began taking too many liberties. He’d expected and counted on it. There were dozens of other women he could use for sex, but not Kelsey. This situation was just too damned complicated.

  So why wasn’t she objecting? Where was that upright, rigid, thoroughly sexless Orchid Simpson now?

  Her hands slid tentatively down his back to his hips. He was lying half atop her. Her exploration shattered his senses and he moved fully atop her, fast losing sight of anything but the need to be inside her, buried deeply within her essence, stroking her, pleasuring her. His knee nudged her legs apart and he pressed himself against her, forcing her into vibrant awareness of his rigid hardness. It was now or never, he thought, a tremor of need shaking him.

  Kelsey dreamily realized what was happening. She willed herself to fight back but was devastated by the raw need emanating from him. She wanted to pull his hips against her as hard as she could, wrap her legs around him, demand he give her that ultimate reward, even while her mind was screaming at her to wake up and fight.

  She didn’t have to. Jesse made the decision.

  “Oh, hell,” he muttered, rolling away from her and onto his feet, his back to her, his shoulders so tense he seemed to shake. She lay as he left her, on her back, shocked and devastated, for several long, long moments: wanton, rejected, and full of unrequited desire. Embarrassed, Kelsey emitted a cry of humiliation and pain and rolled into a ball.

  Before she could invent some conceivable reason why she’d reacted so passionately, her husband strode out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

  Chapter Ten

  Lights blazed across the sweeping circular brick drive as carriage after carriage lined up in front of Montana Gray’s imposing three-story manor. A hot July breeze offered little relief to the auction patrons swathed in elegant finery. The day had been blistering – a rare cloudless, airless, breathless summer misery. Kelsey, in burgundy velvet, had felt limp and ragged while her new maid, Irma, had dressed her. Now, with the prospect of three hundred people crushed inside the Gray’s ballroom facing her, she wanted to run as far away as possible as soon as the carriage door opened.

  It was Jesse�
��s carriage. His own. He hadn’t lied about his abundant finances, Kelsey had subsequently learned. He’d been systematically planning his revenge for years, and all the pieces were now in place. The purchase of their new home, every inch as elegant as Montana Gray’s, had been his last and final move. Now Jesse Danner, and his lovely, obedient wife, Orchid, were settled into their new, highly prestigious neighborhood, and were on the brink of becoming one of the socially elite’s favorite couples. Invitations had begun to arrive, a trickle that was fast becoming a deluge. As it turned out, Zeke hadn’t needed to wangle an invitation to the charity auction. Jesse and Kelsey’s popularity had begun before they’d attended their first function together; people who had seen them strolling through the park or around the quiet, oak lined neighborhood liked the way they looked together.

  It was enough to make any intelligent person retch.

  “Are you ready?” Jesse asked in his deep baritone.

  Kelsey dragged her gaze from the carriage window and the scores of elegant patrons climbing Montana Gray’s tiered brick stairs to look at her husband. He wore black from head to toe except for the stark white collar of his ruffled shirt.

  He was hatless, like herself, and his hair was black as midnight, combed back and brushing the white collar of his shirt. In the half light of the carriage, his eyes were shadowed, but she knew just how blue they were, just how intense. In the three weeks since he’d kissed her and nearly made love to her, she’d felt those eyes assessing her sharply whenever she was in his presence. Sharply and disparagingly. Apparently he regretted those passionate moments as much as she did. Neither one of them had spoken of the incident since.

  “I’m ready,” she answered coolly.

  Drake brought the carriage to a smooth stop. Jesse opened the door, leapt lightly to the ground, then extended his hand to Kelsey. Her gloves matched her dress and reached past her elbows, and as Jesse’s fingers closed around hers, she was glad for the small barrier. She didn’t want to touch him at all, but tonight she would be forced to – at least for the sake of appearance.