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

by Nancy Bush

  Her clothes disappeared as if by magic. In a dream she felt him unbutton her dress and slip it down her hips. Her camisole and drawers followed in swift abandon, and when she was completely naked he cradled her in his arms and lay her down on the cover. The rain beat heavily outside the window, cutting through the heat, cooling the air that touched her skin, awakening her from her dream in time to see Jesse stripping off his wet clothes.

  In the dim cast of the lamp of her bed, the room’s only illumination, the muscles of his shoulders and back looked like oiled bronze, rippling smoothly as he reached for the buttons of his breeches. Swallowing, Kelsey clutched the comforter, her nakedness, her vulnerability, hitting her like a sledgehammer. She sat up quickly, drawing his swift, piercing gaze. Her hands fluttered to her breasts, and Jesse simply stared at her, waiting to see what she would do, his hands poised on the buttons of his breeches.

  “Oh, my God!” Kelsey declared on a shattered breath.

  “Her voice returneth,” he said with drawling amusement. “For a moment I thought maybe you were right. You were struck speechless.”

  She tried to scramble off the bed, but he sank down on it beside her, the look on his face telling her it was much too late for maidenly second thoughts. Pride forced her to remain where she was, but she wriggled down protectively between the cool sheets, drawing the covers to her chin—hardly a dominant position, but Kelsey was too rattled to care. Besides, Jesse, still had his breeches on and he was on the other side of the covers.

  He stretched out beside her, letting her enjoy the security of the covers—for the moment. From his point of view there was no need to rush, no need to storm her defenses. Even if Kelsey wasn’t ready to admit what she wanted, he knew. And knowing turned his voice lazy and helped him keep a rein on his desire.

  “I don’t suppose you might change your mind about this,” Kelsey asked in a quiet voice.

  “No.” She’d hidden herself from him; a self-protective measure that he’d let himself be fooled by. Yes, he’d suspected her passion, but he hadn’t expected her intelligence, and vulnerability. She’d wrapped herself in layers of defenses and now, with her own desire too recently exposed to deny, she’d resorted to gentle pleading, trying to appeal to his better nature.

  “What can it possibly matter to you?” she whispered. “It matters only to me.”

  “It matters to me.”

  She shook her head, her rich magenta-streaked hair tumbling riotously across the pillow. Jesse captured her chin with one hand and kissed her, leisurely exploring her lips. Kelsey’s eyelids fluttered closed. She luxuriated in the kiss, heat swarming through her at the way his arms circled her, his hands at the small of her back drawing her closer, intimately closer, until the blankets were an impediment that she wanted to thrust aside.

  Her hands slid up his back, over those hard muscles. She wanted to dig her fingers into his skin, clutch him closer. He must have sensed her need, for he swept aside the blankets impatiently, pressing his heavy body down on hers. Kelsey moaned. Her pulse beat in her temple like a pagan drum. Her fingers flew to his waistband, but he gently brushed her hands away, pulling the breeches off himself with a muscular twist, sliding his lean, hard body next to hers, turning her so they lay face-to-face.

  “Open your eyes,” he ordered softly. There was no amusement in his voice any longer, and for that Kelsey was glad.

  Slowly, she lifted her lids, just a tiny little bit. His mouth quirked, but it was more a recognition of her fear than amusement at her expense. He wasn’t laughing at her. He wasn’t lording it over her that yes, she had been susceptible to his charms. That yes she was just like all the other ladies he’d known.

  Other ladies… Knowing she was just the same hurt, ached, deep in her soul. She’d known it all along. Had denied it vehemently. Had placed herself above the carnal cravings other simpering women ensnared themselves in. But it was a lie. All a lie.

  “Don’t turn away,” he said gently when she twisted her head away from him.

  Slowly, she obeyed, watching him through smoky gray eyes that were Jesse’s total undoing. With a groan he captured her lips again, his tongue probing their trembling curves. She opened her mouth and the stab of his tongue echoed through her deliciously, touching every nerve ending. His hand slid over the curve of her hip, drawing her against the rigid shaft of his manhood. Kelsey gave a shuddering gasp that turned to a groan of disbelief and embarrassment when he placed her hand around that swollen member.

  “Jesse…” she protested.

  “Kelsey,” he answered in a harsh breath.

  Except for the day he’d learned her true identity he’d never called her by her first name before. The sound reverberated in her head. It emboldened her. And suddenly she didn’t want to be a passive partner. She touched him with gentle fingers and felt the shudder that rocked his hard frame, heard the hiss of breath he dragged between his teeth.

  Her exploration lasted less than five heartbeats before he pulled her hand away. Confused, she stared at him, unaware that her innocent, tentative caresses were far too intoxicating.

  Instead, his hands explored, sliding down her neck and breasts and abdomen to the juncture of her thighs. Kelsey made a choked sound and reared backward, but Jesse held her tightly. “Let me,” he said thickly.

  She fought to relax and then his skillful fingers worked a new kind of magic. She melted, shocked by the amazingly pleasurable feeling of him inserting his fingers into her wet warmth. His movements caused her acute embarrassment and immeasurable pleasure. She moaned and turned her face into his shoulder, her nails digging across his shoulder, her body twisting to his, demanding release.

  “Jesse,” she murmured low in her throat.

  His body was then covering hers, his face above hers harsh with passion. Kelsey dragged his lips down to hers, meeting his kisses fiercely with unbridled desire. His knee wedged itself between her thighs and he moved into position above her. He lifted her hips. She felt his hot hardness probing entrance. She wasn’t quite certain what she wanted, but she sensed he could give it to her, and she waited breathlessly, expectantly, while her mouth clung passionately to his and her body tensed in poised anticipation.

  “Relax.” His voice was taut with pent-up passion.

  “I am relaxed.”

  Languorous laughter filled his tone. “No, darling. You’re not. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You’re not.” She was breathless.

  “Not yet.”

  Jesse hadn’t expected to feel so tender toward her. That this was Kelsey Garret, his wife, left him feeling unsure and incredibly possessive. He inched himself inside her, his senses jolted by her tight heat. When he reached the fragile barrier that proclaimed her innocence he drew a deep breath—he was shocked. A virgin? Who in God’s name had she been saving herself for?

  “Kelsey,” he murmured unsteadily.

  She didn’t answer. Her trembling hands were at his hips, and she softly pulled him tighter. Her trust shattered his control and he drew back and thrust deep, deep inside her.

  She gasped in pain, the sound cut off almost instantly as she bit down on her lower lip.

  To Kelsey it was a moment of reckoning. This pain was what women spent long hours giggling over, gossiping over, rhapsodizing over? This?

  Her eyes flew open. It wasn’t horrible, certainly, but it wasn’t nearly as glorious as the lovemaking that had come before. If he would just kiss her again, touch her again—that’s what she craved.

  She was convinced the sex act was vastly overrated.

  “Well,” she said in a voice of one who’s been sorely disappointed.

  The beast actually started to laugh! Convinced the joke was on her, Kelsey did her utmost to dislodge his heavy body from atop her, but Jesse held her down with his superior weight. It infuriated Kelsey that they were still joined in such an intimate fashion and she gazed up at him through angry silver eyes.

  “Now that you’re finished, I insist you let m
e up!”

  “Who said I was finished?”

  “Oh, Lord, there isn’t more, is there?”

  For an answer he moved within her, just a little bit, and the sparks of pleasure that burst inside her jolted a moan from Kelsey’s lips. “Yes, Mrs. Danner, there’s more,” he murmured, moving again with deep rhythmic thrusts.

  She would resist it, whatever it was, she determined, fighting back her astonishment at the building pressure that seemed to be rising inside her like a tidal wave. Closing her eyes, she gritted her teeth as stabs of piercing pleasure jarred through her.

  “Don’t fight me,” he told her in a voice like rough velvet. “There’s no need.”

  But there was a need. If only she could remember what it was. If only her pleasure-drugged mind could assimilate the fragments. But she couldn’t. All the things that mattered seemed to spin away, flung to the far corners of the universe as she concentrated on that mounting, hot desire that engulfed her, taking her over like a deadly spirit.

  Jesse moved deliberately, checking his own passion, fighting the sweet torture of her own instinctive movements, movements she wasn’t aware she was making. Her body arched and writhed, but still she held back. He could sense it. A battle of wills it was, where neither of them could be the winner. He wanted to shatter her resistance. He wanted to drive into her as deeply as he could, but it would be too soon. He didn’t have as much resistance as she apparently had. So he moved slowly, tortuously, amazed and humbled by the pleasure she was giving him even while she fought against it.

  Heat burst through Kelsey, so hot, so vital that she cried out, clutching Jesse’s sweat-dampened shoulders, her body racked by spasms. He groaned and pushed forward, increasing the pressure, and then he thrust fast and furiously, reaching his own climax in seconds.

  She floated back to earth an eternity later. Gradually, reality returned and she saw she was in her bedroom, her gaze trained on the arched canopy above her head. She could scarcely breathe. Jesse’s weight crushed against her chest. She wanted to push him away, yet a part of her didn’t want to move. In fact, when Jesse rolled to his side, her lips automatically formed a protest, but he brought her with him, cradling her against his chest in a loving, protective way that stole the words from her tongue.

  I love him, she thought inconsequentially.

  It was a shattering realization, made more so by the next conclusion: I always have. How could she love someone she despised? she thought with uncharacteristic despair.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said in a quiet voice.

  There was no love in his tone. No feeling of any kind. If he was purposely holding back his emotions, he was successful, because she had no idea what he was feeling. That thought increased her despair.

  Jesse was purposely holding back his emotions. In truth, his feelings for Kelsey bordered on proprietary. She was his wife and, by God, he wasn’t going to let her go! He found the thought of being without her so terrifyingly empty that he said the first thing that entered his head, “Well, there’ll be no annulment now.”

  It was a blow to Kelsey. She’d been dreaming of love and desire and a fulfillment of her fantasies, and then he told her why he’d made love to her. It was all part and parcel of the game. His need to conquer, to have his own way. He wasn’t going to release her from this marriage until he was damn good and ready, and now she’d played right into his hands. Divorce was her only option. A stigma no “good woman” could hope to overcome.

  He’d slept with her on purpose. And it hadn’t been because he couldn’t bear the thought of not having her—Kelsey Garrett—his wife—the woman he loved…

  She slapped him. Hard. Straight across the cheek. She took him completely by surprise.

  He froze. Kelsey, in a moment of true insight, realized she’d just done something irrevocable.

  Jesse shoved himself out of bed and yanked on his clothes. Kelsey watched in sadness and growing dread. “Where are you going?” she asked when it was clear he was getting the hell away from her. And fast.

  The look he sent her withered something inside her. Protectively, she pulled the covers around her breasts.

  Jesse hadn’t been slapped since Lila Gray set him up. The astonishing pleasure he’d felt in Kelsey’s arms disintegrated when he realized she was no different from any other woman. How had he ever convinced himself she was? Without a word he left the room and headed downstairs, uncertain whether he wanted to drink himself into oblivion or find someone to brawl with; uncertain whether he hated his willful wife or was half in love with her.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Victor “Flannigan” sat in his black leather desk chair in the corner of his cramped office and sourly contemplated his future. Samuel Danner was encroaching on his territory. The young attorney had appointed himself savior to the masses and he’d begun winning cases—cases where Victor had dug up dirt for his clients and assured them that they would prove victorious.

  People were losing faith. Judge Barlowe was having to rule in favor of Samuel’s clients or lose his position. And now this damned trial over one of Montana Gray’s deals looked as if it might go Danner’s way too.

  And Montana Gray didn’t care to lose.

  Victor swallowed hard. Light from his desk lamp filtered through the amber liquid of his whiskey. Victor’s den was also his main living space; he’d been staying in these rented rooms for far too long, forced to keep a low profile.

  The Danners were the bane of his very existence.

  Setting his glass down with resolution, Victor came to a long overdue conclusion: It was time to finish what he’d begun, and Lacey Duprés was the woman to help him.

  He would start with the other Danners—Jesse and Kelsey—and then work his way up to Samuel. There could be no connection between him and the fate that would befall Jesse and Kelsey, or he’d have not only Samuel after his neck, but Tremaine Danner as well, and Victor still harbored a deep abiding fear of the eldest Danner. Not that Jesse or Samuel wasn’t challenging in his own right, but he and Tremaine shared a history, an unpleasant history.

  And then there was the matter of Samuel Danner’s wife…

  Victor shuddered. He didn’t like thinking about the repercussions if that were ever to come to light. No matter what, he had to keep the truth about Mary McKechnie Danner’s death a secret.

  Crossing to his desk, he penned a note to Lacey Duprés. All he needed was one night—a night where he knew the whereabouts of every Danner—a night where Lacey invited them one and all to her hotel for some special event that none of them could resist. And then he would take care of them, starting first with the easiest: Kelsey Garrett Danner.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  Across town, Montana Gray was sharing similar sentiments. He stood on the loggia of his home, his gaze focused across the park grounds, past the firs and oaks and grassy knolls to the space in the blackness beyond where he knew Jesse Danner’s home to be. The trees obscured it from view, but it was there, a mocking edifice to failure. His failure.

  Grinding his teeth, he clenched his fingers into hammy fists. He didn’t like Danner’s style. He didn’t like the way he smiled whenever they met, as if he were enjoying some great joke at Montana’s expense. He didn’t like the harsh, determined slant to Danner’s chin when a business deal was struck. He didn’t like knowing Danner had the upper hand.

  “Get my wife,” he ordered the servant who was busying around inside the upper salon.

  The youngest girl scurried out as if he’d threatened her bodily harm. Lila glided in a few moments later, her expression wary.

  “I thought you said you could seduce Danner.”

  Lila’s eyes widened. “I can. These things take time,” she said, rankled. The fact that Jesse had studiously ignored each and every advance she’d made struck her in her most vulnerable spot, her vanity.

  “I’ve wasted enough time. I want you to do something else.”

  “What?” she asked, years of living with Montan
a keeping her from committing herself until she knew all the details.

  “The next time Danner leaves his home alone, I want to know about it.”

  She tossed him a cool look. “You ask the impossible. I can’t watch his every move.”

  “You already are,” Montana said softly. “You should know by now you can’t hide anything from me.”

  Lila stood still as a stone. So he knew she’d hired someone to report on doings at the Danner household. Did he also know about her clandestine meetings with Gerrard Knight? “What are you planning to do with Jesse?”

  “Strike another deal. One that suits me better.”

  Lila twisted a strand of blond hair between her fingers, then drew it thoughtfully across her lips. She saw no harm in dropping a plum into Montana’s lap. “Jesse’s alone at a bar on the waterfront this evening, drinking himself into oblivion, I understand.” Satisfaction filled her voice at the thought that marital bliss was sorely lacking at the Danner household and Jesse was out in the evening alone again.

  “Where?”

  “A place called Briny’s.” Her nose twitched in distaste.

  Seconds later Lila was alone. Montana left without so much as a good-bye. A chill settled over her, and she wondered if she’d made a vast mistake.

  ¤ ¤ ¤

  Kelsey awoke slowly, a vague feeling of doom making her want to keep her eyes tightly closed in spite of the late morning sunlight streaming across her bed. She turned slightly, and an unaccustomed soreness brought her eyes open in a snap. She and Jesse had made love last night!

  “Oh, my God!”

  She lay perfectly still, almost afraid to move, as if pretending she were a statue could somehow make reality fade. Her inertia lasted about forty-five seconds. Throwing off the covers, she jumped to her feet, then realized she was stark naked.

  With a strangled sound she headed straight for the bath, washing herself vigorously. She stopped halfway through these rather rough ministrations, suddenly weak, fully aware that she didn’t really want to wash away the remnants of last night.