"He wasn't yours to love. He's mine. He's always been mine and you had no right to him."
"No! Oh, please...!"
"Jessica, wake up. Jessica, you're having a bad dream. Wake up, honey."
Jessica's eyes flew open and she stared wildly up into Storm's face. "Storm? I thought...."
"It's all right, honey," Storm soothed. "It was just a dream."
Just a dream, Jessica's mind echoed, but threads of truth spun through the dream. She shut her eyes and turned her head aside.
"I'm all right now. You...you can let go of me."
Storm stared down at her for a moment, a frown on his face. Why did he suddenly feel a change in her this morning? She had snuggled in his arms all night, resting peacefully as long as he held her close.
He sure as hell didn't get much sleep. Each time he tried to shift and put at least an inch or so between him and her nakedness, she whimpered and edged close again. He finally slipped from the blankets as the false light of a pre-dawn lit the sky, plunging immediately into the river's cold water.
The river ran by them placidly again this morning, having carried away the debris of the flash flood the day before. His emotions darned sure weren't placid. The cold swim hadn't assuaged the ache in him at all — it only reminded him of how much he had promised to give up.
"I'll get some breakfast going," he said abruptly as he stood.
Jessica nodded slightly, expecting the pain in her head to come crashing in at her movement. It came, though not nearly as hard as she anticipated. Opening her eyes, she raised her hand to tenderly probe the knot on her head. It took her a second to even find it, since the swelling had receded during the night, but she winced a little when her fingertips found the center of the wound.
That pain couldn't begin to compare to the twisting in her heart, however, as she watched Storm prepare their meal.
He wore a shirt against the chill in the morning air, hanging unbuttoned down his chest. The old, faded denim jeans — the tattered and torn ones he had worn when he killed the snake — encased his lower body.
When he stood for a moment with the coffee pot in his hand, Jessica found her gaze centered on the spot where the material was missing on his thigh. She thought she heard him groan, but when her eyes went back to his face, they met the back of his head.
Noticing his damp hair, Jessica glanced at the river. He must have already bathed this morning. She shivered a little as she gazed at the now gentle current on the river and recalled the violent turbulence of the previous day. If Storm hadn't been there, it could so easily have snatched her life.
Before they searched for the gold today, she would somehow conquer her trepidation of the water. The dunking the day before couldn't by any stretch be called a bath and she could still feel grains of sand clinging here and there to her body.
She looked at Storm as he walked over to where their saddles lay and picked up a canteen of water. He kept his back to her and poured the coffee pot full of water.
Jessica closed her eyes before he turned around. The dream — the dream was true. She had even gone to sleep the night before thinking about her Wyoming ranch and Storm by her side as they worked to bring it back to its former grandeur. She hadn't even once given a thought to Prudence and her love for Storm.
Storm hung the coffee pot over the fire and glanced at Jessica.
"Jessica, are you in much pain this morning? I think I've got some medication in my saddlebag."
Pain? Her lashes fluttered open and she stared at him for a long second, fixing him in her mind. Medication wouldn't help the pain she felt. It was just something she would have to learn to bear.
"No, Storm," she said at last. "My head hardly hurts at all this morning."
"What about the rest of you? That water really knocked you around."
Jessica tentatively stretched out her legs and flexed her arms. She felt a twinge here and there, but everything worked all right.
She gathered the blanket around her and sat up. "I think I'm going to be fine. At least, as soon as I get a bath."
Storm nodded. "I'll help you after we eat," he said before he turned back to fork the pieces of fish frying in the skillet over to the other side.
Like hell you will, Jessica thought. The newly-formed resolve in her mind wouldn't hold up if he even once touched her. It needed time to firm and set if she expected it to carry her through the next few days. And after that — her heart wrenched — after that, the rest of her life.
She held her tongue while they ate. Only once did she murmur anything to Storm, and then only to tell him how delicious the fish tasted. He remained strangely silent, also, only nodding his acknowledgement of her words to her. She held her empty plate out to him when he reached for it, surprised to see her hand shaking.
The plate almost slipped from Jessica's numb fingers and Storm quickly covered her hand with his to keep it from falling.
"You're still weak this morning."
Jessica's eyes filled with tears at the tenderness in his voice.
Storm took the plate in his other hand and set it down beside him. He continued to hold Jessica's hand, though she tugged gently against him. When he looked back at her, he saw her head bowed, the sable curls falling around her face to hide it. But she couldn't quite hide the sound of the muffled sniff from him.
"Jessica." He cupped her chin and tilted her face up. The brown eyes refused to meet his gaze and he watched her blink her lashes rapidly, trying to stem her tears.
"Jessica, what's wrong? Where do you hurt?"
"Let go of me," she managed to say in a strangled voice. "Please."
Reluctantly, Storm dropped his hands to his sides and leaned back on his heels. He didn't understand it. For some reason she had raised a barrier against him today, making it clear she didn't even want him to touch her. He watched her curl her arms around her stomach, as though fighting some agony building in her.
"Darlin', please don't cry," Storm pleaded. He reached out a hand to her again, but pulled it back. "Tell me where it hurts, my pretty lady. I'll try to make it better."
His words undid her. Oh, why did he have to call her his pretty lady? She lifted her tear-streaked face and stared longingly at him.
"It hurts all over. I don't know how I'm going to stand it the rest of my life. I love you so much, Storm."
Storm could no more have stopped himself from gathering her into his arms than he could have single-handedly stopped the floodwaters the day before. He carried her with him as he stretched out on the blanket beneath them and held her tightly to him. He kissed the tears from her face and scattered kisses on her cheeks — her chin — the sides of her mouth. When she gave a glad cry and reached her hand up to curl her fingers in his hair, he claimed her mouth fully.
A long, tender moment later, he pulled his lips gently free and nudged aside the hair by her ear.
"We've still got today, Jessica, darlin'," he whispered. "And tomorrow's never a firm promise for anyone. Let me love you just once more. Let me fill myself with you — with your sweetness and your love for me. Let me give you all the love I have for you while I can."
"Today. Yes, today," she whispered in agreement. Tomorrow would come eventually — even the power of her love for him couldn't hold back the relentless march of the sun across the sky. But they had today — today they had their love.
Jessica willingly arched against him when his hands stroked down her back and around to her breasts. She tightened her fingers in his hair and pulled his face down to her. Her lips sought his greedily, as greedily as her tongue sought to slip inside his mouth when he opened it slightly. She strove for dominance for only a second when he swirled his tongue around hers, then gave a moan of surrender and accepted him into her own mouth.
Surging sensations swept over her as Storm kneaded her breasts and ran his thumbs over the stiffening nipples. An aching void spread through her — she wanted him so badly. Her fingers left the silky nest of his hair and pulled the sh
irt from his shoulders. She gasped when his lips left hers and his hands left her breasts, purring contentedly when his mouth found one breast while he freed his arms from the shirt.
When he pulled her close again, Jessica ran her hands over the corded muscles on his back. His hand on her hips snuggled her against him and she eagerly complied with his insistent pressure. She heard him groan in displeasure when the denim material kept him from the heat he sought.
Storm's hands worked at the buttons on his jeans, but Jessica reached down and covered them with her own. Exerting a will she didn't know she possessed, she pulled herself away from him and sat up.
"Let me," she breathed shakily. "I want to do this."
Storm drew in a deep breath and nodded his compliance, his smoky black eyes held by the passion in her gold-flecked ones. When he could tear his gaze away, he ran his eyes down over her, immediately caught next by one rosy, pink breast tip peeking through the sable hair falling over her shoulder.
"You better hurry, pretty lady," he growled. "I won't be responsible for what I do if you take too long."
Jessica laughed softly and held her hands a scant inch from the front of his jeans.
"You have to promise," she said in a languid voice. "You have to promise that you'll let me take as long as I want."
When Storm remained silent, she ran one fingernail above the band on his jeans and smiled in satisfaction when he closed his eyes and groaned.
"All right, pretty lady," he finally managed with a soft laugh of his own. "Have your way with me."
"I mean to," Jessica replied. "Put your arms behind your head."
Storm clenched his fists for a second, then did as she asked. He watched her from beneath his passion heavy eyelids as she reached again for his jeans.
Jessica pursed her lips into a mock frown as she worked on the top button. "Oh, dear," she said quietly. "It seems to be stuck."
"Jessica," Storm growled, the warning clear in his voice.
"Oh, there it comes."
She looked up and met his gaze as she slowly worked the button free and reached for the next one. Instead, she ran her fingertips over the bulge beside them, where the fragile threads threatened to burst when she touched them.
Her fingers slid down the length of him and into the hole in his jeans. She could barely touch him from this direction, but even the slight pressure of her fingertips when they brushed him sent another moan from Storm's chest. When his eyes closed as he sought to keep his body still, she finally, slowly, freed the remaining buttons.
Jessica widened the opening, then slid her hands around his waist and under the jeans. She tugged on the jeans and smiled when Storm raised his hips a little so she could pull them down.
Her fingers lingered a while on the back side of him. How many times had she been stirred by how snugly he fit the denim material there? Bending her head, she kissed a path down his thigh, her half-open eyes noticing again the dark spot inside it. After giving one tender flick of her tongue to the heart-shaped birthmark, she pulled the jeans from his body.
Her hair brushing against his stomach and the tender caresses on his legs sent a wave of fire over Storm's entire body. He opened his eyes to see Jessica's small head bent over him, her lips and hands working a magic on him that couldn't be denied.
Even the magic of their shared passion couldn't begin to compare to the other emotions surging through him. She gave so much to him, wanting his pleasure to be as great as hers. And he had no doubt she, too, was filled with the wonder of their need for each other when she threw his jeans aside and tossed her hair back to look up at him. Her heavy eyelids lay in a druggish half mast, almost completely shadowing her brown eyes, now gone a dreamy, paler color. Her lips pouted with his kisses.
"Do you like it when I touch you, Storm?" she asked in a husky voice.
"You shouldn't even have to ask, pretty lady," he replied in a voice aching with need. "But I'll tell you if you want me to. I love it when you touch me. I love you, my Jessica."
A satisfied smile curved her lips. "I thought so, but it's nice to have you tell me that I'm pleasing you. Do you like it when I touch you here?"
Storm gave a deep growl. In one swift movement, he captured her and swept her under him. Gazing down into her twinkling eyes, he said gruffly, "You know I do, but all promises are off when you touch me there. Remember that in the future."
Immediately the mischievous glint faded from Jessica's eyes. "The f...future, Storm?"
"Oh, God. I'm sorry, Jessica. Don't."
Storm's lips covered hers and his hands began tracing her body. For a moment, he felt her stiffness in his arms, but a second later, she sighed in surrender and wrapped her legs around his.
His own words nagged at his mind for an instant before he resolutely shoved them into a corner. The future was tomorrow. Today he had his pretty lady in his arms and could drink his fill of the love and contentment — and the passion — he found there. He gave himself up to the sweet fire that consumed them both.
"It's my turn now," Jessica said an hour later as Storm washed the last traces of soap from her hair.
"What do you mean?"
"You helped me bathe. Now I'll help you."
"Jessica, darlin', this river water's cold."
"Funny." Jessica stood up and laid her hands on his chest, tilting her head back to gaze merrily at him. "I'm not a bit cold."
Storm laughed down at her and bent his head to kiss her. He had a glimpse of her lips pursing into a sly grin before he found himself on his rear in the river, staring up at her giggling countenance above him.
"There. Now sit still while I get the soap."
"I've already had one bath today," he said grumpily as he propped his hands on his bent knees. "And I took it for a different reason than to get clean. Do you know what you did to me each time you snuggled against me last night?"
Jessica laughed gaily down at him. "Mattie never mentioned that way of cooling off an over-ardent swain. I'm surprised every woman doesn't carry a jug of cold water with her wherever she goes."
Storm lunged for her, but Jessica danced away and splashed through the water to the shore, where they had left their soap and towels. She picked up a jar containing the soap for her hair and turned back to face Storm.
"Come on," she said. "Sit back down. You're too tall for me to wash your hair when you stand."
Storm lowered himself back into the water, keeping his eyes on her when she approached him. When she opened the lid on the soap, the scent of roses filled his nose. Immediately he recognized the sweet smelling soap he had used on her hair moments before.
"You're not going to use that on me. That's a woman's soap."
"Oh, pooh! You men use stuff that smells on yourself. Lordy, some of the men at the barn dances outsmell the women with that pomade they put on their hair and lotion they use on their faces after they shave. Now, just shut up and turn around."
"I can't stand bossy women," Storm grumbled, but he complied with her.
He relaxed when she dumped a portion of the soap on his head and handed him the jar over his shoulder. Her fingers worked the soap through his hair, and when her hands left him, he turned around to see her bent over, cupping water. The water landed on his face when she sluiced it toward him without noticing his altered posture.
Storm sputtered and glared at her, but he couldn't control his own merriment when she clasped a hand over her mouth to try to still her snorting laughter.
"If you'd only do what I tell you to," she said when she could control her laughter, "you wouldn't get yourself into so much trouble."
"But I like the trouble I get into with you, pretty lady," he breathed softly.
Jessica felt her legs threaten her with a dunking again in the river. She stiffened them determinedly and pointed a finger at him.
"Turn around."
"I like the view this way much better."
"Storm!"
He tossed the soap jar at the bank, where it landed
in the soft sand. Shifting in the water, he opened his arms to her. "You can reach my head just as well this way. You're getting water in my face anyway."
Jessica sighed in surrender and stepped between his legs into his embrace. She pushed his arms slightly away when he tried to hold her close.
"I need more water. You hair's not wet enough to lather real well yet."
Her pert rear rose right in front of his eyes when she bent down and Storm stifled a groan. And one cupped handful of water didn't suffice. She had to have another, then another. Satisfied at last, she began working the soap into lather in his hair.
But this sure as hell hadn't been one of his better ideas. Now her flat stomach lingered a bare inch from his lips and the sensuous feel of her fingers in his hair overcame any thought that the cold water in which he sat would cool him. Already he had been wanting her again and now that part of him that he had kept under rigid control while he bathed her sprang into full command of his body.
"Jessica, I can't stand much more of this!"
"Shhhh, I'm almost done. I just have to rinse you off."
Oh, no. He wasn't going to watch that shapely rear end tantalize him again.
"I've got a better idea."
Jessica squealed when he grabbed her and carried her with him into deeper water. She managed to swallow a breath before her pulled her under with him and opened her eyes to see him shaking his head from side to side to rid his hair of the soap. An instant later she drifted with him to the water's surface. Finding the depth too much for her shorter legs, she wrapped them around his waist and placed her hands on his shoulders.
"I just don't know what I'm going to do with you," she said with a false sigh. "You break promises and won't do a thing I tell you to do."
Storm nuzzled her throat, then raised his lips to whisper in her ear. "I'm sorry I broke my promise to you earlier. Maybe I can make it up to you."
"How?"
Storm planted his feet a little firmer in the sandy soil beneath them and shifted her slightly against him.
"Ohhhh," Jessica breathed. "But...here?"
"Um hum."
Montana Surrender Page 22