by Nancy Bush
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“Out.” She tucked her braid inside the hood.
“Tonight? In this weather?” Jesse was more amazed than angry.
“I have plans.”
“Well, you’ll have to break them. I haven’t seen you for over a week, and we’ve got to get a few things straight.”
“Write me a letter. I’ll read it tomorrow.”
Her arrogance got under his skin. As she swept toward the door, he grabbed the crook of her arm. “This isn’t up for argument.”
She jerked her arm away and Jesse had to control the impulse to yank it right back. Her eyes blazed with gray fury. “I’m not in the mood for a conversation with you, Jesse. If you’re really so desperate to talk to someone, try Lila Gray. I’m sure she can provide that service too.”
“You wicked-tongued devil,” he breathed, half in admiration, half in exasperation. “You’re not leaving here if I have to lock you in this room to keep you from going.”
He could see her eye the distance between him and the door as if she were planning to bolt. He tensed, ready, but Kelsey was no fool. She could see she would lose that contest.
“Oh, all right!” She seated herself on the edge of a chair and gazed up at him angrily. “Please deliver whatever’s so all-fired important so I can get on with what I’m doing.”
“First of all, you’re not going anywhere,” he told her again. What had she been doing all these nights he’d been away? Had she left on other occasions? Visions of Kelsey in all sorts of nefarious situations with all sorts of ill-intentioned characters made Jesse’s blood boil. “Second of all, my deal with Montana’s set. Soon this will all be over and we’ll be finished with each other. You can go your way, and I’ll go mine.”
“You’ll give me my annulment?” she asked slowly, watching him.
The words stuck in his throat. “When I’m ready.”
“I’m ready now.”
Seated on that stool, her hands folded primly in her lap, Kelsey was as austere and remote as a cold star and Jesse wanted to shake her. Remembering the trembling, pent-up passion of her response when they’d embraced, his loins tightened in automatic response. He wanted to toss her down on the bed and yes, force her, if necessary. The woman could try the patience of a saint, and he was far from that.
“I’ll wait until you’re in a more approachable mood to talk,” he growled, heading for the door. “Don’t go anywhere.”
He headed straight for Briny’s bar.
Four hours later, filled with Sal’s whiskey and still as sober as morning, Jesse unlocked the front door of his home. He’d had enough drinking and he’d had enough pretending. He wanted Kelsey and by God, if that meant telling her that he’d spent the last few weeks in celibacy, unable to even think about bedding another woman, well, to hell with it, he’d do it. He couldn’t think of one goddamn reason why he shouldn’t sleep with her.
Water dripped off his rain-soaked jacket, puddling on the upstairs carpet as he strode to her door. Pushing it open, he hesitated, peering into the darkness and running his hands through his wet hair.
“Kelsey,” he said softly, switching on the light.
The room was empty, the air quiet with the emptiness of long hours.
Anger scorched through him. She’d deliberately disobeyed because he’d ordered it. She’d done it to spite him.
Or she’d done it to meet a lover, an irrational voice inside his head suggested.
Coldly determined, Jesse returned to the rainswept street. Drake was nowhere in sight. He’d already driven to the carriage house. Jesse sloshed through the mud puddles to find him. The buggy, he noticed, was gone.
“My wife’s gone visiting,” Jesse told the smaller man. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to find her.”
“Yes, sir.” Drake immediately began rigging up the team to the carriage once again, but Jesse laid a hand on his arm.
“No. I’ll take the chestnut mare. And please, Drake. Don’t call me sir.”
“Yes, sssi—Mr. Danner.”
¤ ¤ ¤
Sodden, tired, and filled with growing concern and anger, Jesse left the company of Lady Agatha Chamberlain and her granddaughter, Charlotte. He’d expected to find Kelsey there, expected it so much that when he learned she hadn’t visited the Chamberlains, his initial worry about her taking a lover had turned into an out-and-out certainty. He rode slowly through the tireless rain toward Portland’s city center.
She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. Not unless she was madly in love with someone, and Jesse was certain Kelsey didn’t love anyone. There was not a man in Portland she would even look at twice; she’d scorned his sex one and all.
Except Samuel.
A weight settled on Jesse’s heart. No, even Kelsey wouldn’t be reckless and foolhardy enough to fall in love with his own brother. And Samuel, well, Jesse didn’t know him well, but Samuel struck Jesse as a man of honor. Certainly of family honor.
Still, once lodged, the idea refused to be ignored, and Jesse rode through the downtown city streets to Samuel’s office building. There was a livery around the corner, a rather sorry-looking site, but the groomsman seemed to know his business as he took the mare and began brushing the rain from her hide. Jesse was soaked through and through, and his mood was as dreary as he looked. On the threshold of Samuel’s office he realized there was probably no chance his brother would be at work this late at night, but at almost the same moment he was struck by the line of light emanating from beneath the door.
He rapped loudly and within ten seconds Samuel swung open the door. “Jesse!” Samuel declared in surprise. “You look as if someone threw you in the river.”
Samuel wore a vest and shirt, the sleeves rolled up his forearms. He smelled like dusty tomes, and it was clear that he’d spent the night working.
Jesse’s relief was instantaneous and immense. “Not this time,” he drawled. “I just got caught in the rain.”
“Come in. I’ll get you a brandy.”
While Samuel poured a crystal glass nearly full of the aromatic liquor, Jesse leaned against the wall next to the window.
“You’re always on the lookout, aren’t you?” Samuel said with a slight smile.
“Maybe.” Jesse shrugged, regarding his younger brother critically. They had next to nothing in common except their heritage. “Kelsey’s missing. Have you seen her?”
“Yes.”
It was about the last thing he’d expected to hear. Jesse gazed at Samuel, lost.
“She surprised me here, at the office. She left about an hour ago,” Samuel continued. “She wanted me to help her arrange an annulment.”
“That woman is the limit!”
“She said her husband bullies her and even threatened to lock her in her room if she should disobey him.”
“Well, she doesn’t apparently take his advice since she’s gallivanting all over the city.” Jesse slammed his half-empty glass down on the windowsill. “Those were her exact words?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Good-bye, Samuel.”
“Good-bye, Jesse.” A thread of humor laced his words and mocked Jesse during the long ride back to the house.
¤ ¤ ¤
Lights blazed from the upper floor windows, cutting through the pelting rain and gloom as Jesse guided the mare down the lane to the carriage house. Impatiently, he snapped the reins against the horse’s sweating flanks so that she picked up her feet smartly the last few feet to the stable door.
“Take care of her,” he ordered the stable boy, sliding off in one fluid motion. He strode to the back door, slamming it behind him. The sound echoed and re-echoed throughout the spacious house, announcing his arrival as completely as a pair of buglers. Taking the stairs two at a time, he planned to stride into Kelsey’s room uninvited, but since the door was locked, he practically ripped the knob off with his bare hands.
At least his wife was home.
“Open this door,” he said in an o
minous voice.
No answer.
“So help me God, I’ll break it down if you don’t—”
The door flung inward so quickly he sucked in a startled breath. Kelsey stood in the aperture, her wildly beautiful hair cascading to her waist, a silver silk robe covering a matching peignoir. She looked as cool as a spring breeze. Jesse’s gaze clung to the outline of her breasts until he realized that a silver gun, a derringer, was held between her hands.
“I bought another one,” she explained, as if firearms were as mundane a purchase for ladies as new drawers or petticoats. “And I know how to use it.”
“God damn it, Kelsey!” he bit out, stalking toward her.
“I mean it, Jesse. I can shoot a gun as well as any man, probably better than you can.”
“Then, by God, you’d better aim and fire, because I’m sick to death of looking down a gun barrel.”
His implacability pierced through her resolve. Inside, Kelsey wasn’t nearly as controlled as she wanted him to believe. Her knees were veritably knocking together.
“You’ve pointed a gun at me too many times for me to believe you really intend to kill me. If I’m wrong, pull the trigger; otherwise put the damn thing away.”
“I’m—I’m getting an annulment, Jesse. No woman should feel compelled to hold her husband at gunpoint.”
“Put it away,” he said calmly, reaching out without a qualm and pulling the derringer from her unresisting fingers.
“You can carry on this dreadful revenge without me. You said it was almost over. I want my freedom now. I’ve played out this travesty long enough. Let me go, Jesse.”
If she’d thought she could appeal to his better nature, she found out she was wrong. He simply unloaded the derringer, put the bullets into his pocket, then tossed the gun on her dresser. Then he crossed the space left between them and placed his hands around her upper arms, drawing her forward into the heat and shelter of his arms.
He looked down at her and there was no love in his face, no lust either. Just annoyance, and anger, and a desire for revenge. Revenge against her?
“Jesse, I—”
“Shut up,” he told her softly, and accomplished the deed himself by pressing his cold lips to hers. He was soaked to the skin, she realized. He’d been out, what? Searching for her? “I made a mistake by ever agreeing to enter into this marriage,” she said in a breathless voice when the kiss finally ended. Her pulse was pounding in her ears.
“So did I.”
“Well, then we can end it before something terrible happens,” Kelsey said eagerly. “There’s no need to pretend that we care about each other. I mean, in that way.”
Jesse’s blue eyes were knowing. “What why?”
“You know what I mean.” Kelsey sought to free her arms but his grip was too tight. “Jesse, you’re hurting me.”
“God, I hope so!” he muttered through his teeth. “I want to shake you until your teeth rattle.”
“What have I done?” Kelsey demanded. “If you’re mad because I left when you ordered me not to, then you don’t know women very well.”
“I am mad. I’m bloody furious. And I know women very well. I know, in fact, that you’d like nothing better than to make love to me no matter what you say to the contrary. All ladies are the same,” he said in a scathing voice. “Even you, Kelsey Garrett.”
“Your high opinion of your sexual attraction leaves me speechless,” she snapped.
Jesse’s a sense of humor—an attribute that had been sorely missing since this sham of a marriage had begun—returned full force. He chuckled. Then he laughed outright, throwing back his head and letting the laughter roll from his chest.
Kelsey eyed him suspiciously. “I don’t see what’s so funny.”
“Don’t you? You’re hardly speechless, my love. In fact, I’d venture to say you’re one of the most annoyingly talkative females I’ve ever met.”
The hands that had been gripping her so tightly loosened a bit, but before Kelsey could make another bid for escape, one of them cupped her nape, turning her face up to his.
“I am not going to let you kiss me,” she hissed.
“Go ahead and stop me,” he challenged, crushing her mouth beneath the power of his.
She clamped her lips together tightly and felt him grin against them. She struggled, her efforts making his chest shake with silent laughter. She preferred him angry, she realized with despair. This Jesse was too dangerous. Desperately, she sought for a way to change his amusement to fury. With vague thoughts of how she’d tried to render Tyrone helpless, she lifted one knee, but he twisted agilely, taking her with him, and before she knew it she was flung onto the soft down comforter covering her bed.
Kelsey sprang upward, leaping to her feet and away from the treacherous bed. Jesse stood back, his arms across his chest, grinning like a devil.
“Get out of here!” she ordered.
“I’ve spent the last weeks with you alternately furious or frustrated,” he answered as if he hadn’t heard a word she’d uttered since he’d barged his way into her room. “I’ve told myself it’s because Montana Gray has taken much too long in completing my deal with him.”
“What deal is that?” Kelsey burst out, suddenly certain the best way to handle Jesse was to divert him.
Jesse, however, was not to be diverted. “But Montana’s foot-dragging hasn’t been the reason. It’s you, Mrs. Danner,” he said conversationally. “It’s not knowing what to do with you.”
“You don’t have to do anything with me,” Kelsey answered quickly. “Our bargain is nearly complete. A few more days… you said so yourself.”
“I’m not interested in that bargain. We made another agreement. A pledge. That’s the one I’m interested in.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she declared, but, with growing dread, she realized she did.
“Our wedding vows,” Jesse clarified. “I believe there are certain rights that come along with them.”
Kelsey backed away a step even though Jesse made no move toward her, her courage deserting her in a flood. “You said you had no interest in sleeping with me.”
He held up his palms. “And then I said I changed my mind.”
“Jesse, don’t, please.” Kelsey switched to pleading without so much as a second thought. Desperate situations called for desperate measures. She would have done anything, anything, at that moment to change his mind about her.
Her gaze swept the room for her gun. Her rifle was in the closet, but her derringer was on the top of the bureau. Unloaded.
“I am fully aware that you can overpower me and that no one will come to my aid,” Kelsey said, her gaze clinging desperately to the derringer as if it were a drink of water just out of reach of a drowning man. “But if you have any honor at all, then—”
“I don’t,” he said without compunction, and crossed the space between them so quickly that Kelsey scarcely had time to take in a breath.
“You can’t bear to back down from a challenge!” she accused him angrily, sidestepping him. “You don’t really want me. If I were throwing myself at you, you wouldn’t even look my way, would you? Would you?”
Jesse shook his head. He was impressed by the different arguments she could devise to keep him at bay. At this rate, they’d be fighting until sunrise. “Of course I would,” he pointed out. “I can’t resist any female.”
Kelsey narrowed her eyes. “You’re just saying that to get me to be quiet.”
He laughed again. “Yes,” he admitted with a grin. “Yes. I’m through fighting with you. Now, come here…”
Kelsey evaded his hands and swept to the door, but he caught her lithely around the waist, pulling her back against his hard thighs, one arm squeezed hard beneath her breasts, his mouth near her ear.
“I want you,” he said in a harsh voice, the tone of which turned Kelsey’s muscles to water.
And at that moment she remembered all the silly, tormented dreams of her youth, how s
he’d wanted him, wanted him to kiss her and touch her and tell her she was the woman he loved. There had been years of wanting Jesse. And then there had been years of deliberately crushing his memory and trying to convince herself that she’d suffered from youthful fantasies all of her own making.
And then there had been years of man-hating, where men were rapacious monsters who used women without compunction. Used women like Jesse used woman.
Except that all those conclusions jumbled and blended together and ran away like water down a cliff side, until all that was left was the wanting. That tiny ember of desire that Jesse’s touch was fanning to flame. Against her better judgment she still wanted him. Wanted him to tell her she was beautiful and special and that he’d waited his whole life for someone like her.
His hand cupped her breasts as his mouth pressed against her neck, his tongue hot and sweet and wet as it caressed her skin. Kelsey’s eyes fluttered closed. Her conscience fought through a haze of luscious sensuality and awakening passion. It was a losing battle. He was her husband. Her husband. Maybe none of her dreams were reality, but there was no getting around the fact that she had every right to make love to him—and he had every right to make love to her.
He turned her slowly, until her eyes were captured by the intensity of his. She’d resisted her feelings. She’d resisted him. But now, for the life of her she couldn’t think of a single reason to resist any longer. She didn’t want to resist, and when he drew her against him, she let her arms glide around his neck, let her cheek rest lightly against his, let her heart thunder with increasing passion and fear at the realization of what that ragged tempo of his breathing meant.
He kissed her senseless, sweetly, and with restraint, a deadly combination. Had he been forceful, she would have balked. She could have half-believed the tales of plunder and rape she’d both heard and manufactured about him herself. But no… He was holding back his own passion, letting her find her own herself. And it didn’t take long.
Kelsey longed to press herself against his hard body. She ached for it. And finally, because he wasn’t going to help her, she leaned closer, feeling his rocklike thighs and the bold evidence of his own passion.