“You know that’s not it. I’ll see that your brother finishes his schooling—”
“Don’t bother. It’s not your responsibility. I’m not your responsibility. The kids are. And I suggest you start looking for another housekeeper. As soon as I can, I’m going back to Hollister and getting that annulment.” She tapped her chest. “I have a place to go. Don’t think I don’t.”
She turned on her heel and walked away.
Jarrod sat on the rock she had just left and scratched his chin thoughtfully. He wasn’t sure what he’d said that had lit her fuse. He did need her. Not for the children, for him. Whatever happened, she would always be in his heart. He wanted her in his life, in his bed. He couldn’t imagine going on without her.
He’d come here to say straight out that he loved her.
He’d been trying to find the right moment, not wanting to burden her while she was dealing with her father’s rejection.
He had to remember not to be sensitive again, he told himself.
Abruptly, Jarrod stood up. By God, he hadn’t gone through hell just to do nothing and let her walk out of his life. Abby had shown him how to give himself to the people he loved. He knew now why Dulcy had left. Not because of the isolation of the ranch, but because he hadn’t cared about her enough to be there for her. He wouldn’t make the same mistake with Abby. He couldn’t. Every moment away from her was a moment without color and light. His gut told him her decision to leave was rooted in pride. All he had to do was convince her that he loved her more than his own life.
It was time for action.
Time for the one thing that would keep her from getting that annulment.
19
“Abby, Gib’s takin’ us to see the Specific Ocean!” Oliver ran into her room as Abby folded her clothes and set them on the bed. Her carpetbag was on the floor and she kicked it underneath the mattress. She didn’t want the child to see her packing. The boy looked at her pile of clothing, then back up to her. “Are ya comin’ with us?”
She shook her head. “I can’t. I have to—”
“Here you are, Oliver.” Jarrod leaned one broad shoulder against the doorjamb. His gaze drifted from her to the evidence that she was leaving, then back again.
“What’s this about the Pacific Ocean?” she asked.
“Oliver wants to see it.”
“Gib’s taking him?”
“Gib and Slim are taking all the kids. They’re camping out for a few days.”
“Why aren’t you taking them?” she asked suspiciously. “When did all this happen?”
“Gib and I decided last night. After I got back from the waterfall.”
What she wanted to ask was why no one had told her. But she figured she had given up that right when she informed Jarrod she was leaving. Tears burned her eyes, but she’d rather walk naked in a hailstorm than let Oliver, and especially Jarrod, see her cry.
Oliver climbed up on the neatly made bed and swung his legs back and forth. “Uncle Jarrod gots lots of work to catch up on, on account of you ‘n’ me bein’ sick and him takin’ care of us.”
“You can’t put the trip off until you’re free to take them?” she asked Jarrod.
Oliver jumped down and folded his arms over his chest. “I been waitin’ t’see the Specific Ocean forever. I can’t wait no more.”
“Anymore,” Abby and Jarrod corrected him together.
They looked at each other and smiled. Then Abby’s amusement faded as a wave of pain washed over her. She hadn’t known how difficult it would be to leave. She loved the children.
And she loved Jarrod, more than she’d thought it was possible to love a man.
As much as she cared for the children, it would hurt too much to stay, knowing she was nothing more to him than a housekeeper. He had only married her to keep the children; he’d never planned for the situation to be permanent. Abby knew Jarrod didn’t like to take chances—a surefire road to failure, he’d once called it. Love was the biggest risk of all. He’d been burned once. Would he put himself in a position for it to happen again? Despite his assurance that he wanted her as a wife, she was afraid he only said it because he felt sorry for her. She wouldn’t be able to bear seeing the pity in his eyes grow day after day.
And it would, even though she knew he cared about her.
He’d awakened her to passion on their wedding night. But he hadn’t said a single word about loving her. Because he would never let himself love any woman. She was afraid another rejection, especially from Jarrod, would be more than she could take.
Feeling sorry for her would be just as bad. He was too good a man to send her away. But pride wouldn’t let her chance that she would never be more to him than someone to care for his children.
Tom raced into the room. “Abby! I got a name for my horse.”
“Tell me,” she said, trying to pretend an excitement she didn’t feel.
“I gotta ask you something first. Would you mind if I called her Abby?”
Her gaze met Jarrod’s amused one. Ordinarily she might be offended at having a horse named after her. But coming from Tom, it meant so much. Another wave of tears rushed into her eyes, and she fought to hold them back.
“It might be sort of confusing with two Abbys. Don’t you think?” Then she remembered she was leaving. “If you want to name her that, it’s fine with me, Tom.”
The boy scratched his forehead thoughtfully. “Hadn’t figured on it bein’ confusing. Guess I’ll think on it some more.” He tugged his brother toward the door. “Gib sent me to find you. We gotta put our stuff in the wagon. He’s ready to go.”
“Oh, boy!” Oliver exclaimed.
It was early afternoon when Jarrod stood beside Abby in front of the house and said good-bye to the children. He saw the pain etched on her face and knew the effort it took her not to release the tears she’d been holding back since that morning.
Abby kissed Oliver’s cheek. “Remember to go before you get in your bedroll.”
“Yes’m,” he said, giving her a hug.
Katie wrapped her arms around Abby’s neck. “I’m gonna miss you,” the little girl said. “What if I have a bad dream?”
“I’m sure you won’t,” Abby said. “But if you do, Gib will know what to do. He’ll take good care of you.”
As Jarrod lifted the two youngest into the back of the wagon, Abby gave Lily a hug and a kiss. Then she turned to Tom, hesitating. She stuck her hand out to shake his. The boy took it, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I’ll bring you back something special,” he said.
She merely nodded, and Jarrod knew it was because words would destroy her shaky control.
When everyone was in the wagon, Gib nodded to Jarrod. “You know where we’ll be. That stretch of shore just above Sanchez Canyon.”
“I know it,” Jarrod said. “You’ll be gone two days?”
“Any longer and we’ll get word to you.”
“Take good care of them, Gib.”
The old man nodded, then flicked the reins and the horses started forward. Jarrod and Abby called out goodbyes and waved until the wagon was out of sight. Jarrod looked down at her. A whole world of hurt hovered in her blue eyes.
So far his plan had gone ahead like clockwork. Out of all the plans he’d made since Abby came into his life, it was the only one that had. A good thing, since this was the most important.
He watched her as she strained for a last look at the children. Jarrod knew the precise moment when she realized they were completely alone. She looked toward the house, then up at him, and her body tensed.
“Jarrod, I’m going to finish packing my things and then I’m going back to town.”
“All right,” he said. “I’ll go with you and see you safely there.”
“No!” Her hand fluttered near her throat. “I mean that’s not necessary. I’ve made the trip so often, I could do it in my sleep. If you’ll loan me a horse, I’ll see it’s returned.”
He decided not to deal with tha
t. Instead he went straight to her heart. “Do the kids know you won’t be here when they get back?”
She bit the corner of her lip. “No. It would spoil their trip. I couldn’t do that.” She turned and went into the house.
Jarrod caught her at the bottom of the staircase and gripped her upper arm to stop her. He turned her to face him. “How can you leave without saying good-bye to them?”
“It’s better that way—”
“For who? Not them. It must be better for you. Your father may be weak and selfish, but at least he had the guts to face you when he left.”
“That’s not fair, Jarrod,” she cried.
“Damn straight. Like father, like daughter. You’re running away from the kids.”
“I’m not—”
“What are you afraid of, Abby?” He held up a hand to stop her protest. “You love the kids. You’ve never held back with them.”
“Of course I love them. I’d never hurt them deliberately.”
“Then it must be me you’re afraid of.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it? You won’t let yourself care. You’re afraid of being hurt again.”
She pulled her arm from his grasp and stepped on the first stair. They were almost eye-to-eye, and hers were sparking like kerosene-fed flames.
“You’re not going to talk me out of leaving, Jarrod.”
“Talking wasn’t what I had in mind,” he said with a wry smile.
“I knew it!” She pointed at him. “You deliberately sent the children off with Gib so you could—So that—To try and—”
“Have my way with you? Seduce you? Love you? Give you a dream to replace the one you lost?” he asked, lowering his voice intimately. “Guilty as charged. And not a bit sorry.”
She shook her head and started backing up the stairs. “Don’t come near me, Jarrod,” she warned.
“Why?” He smiled, and saw the pulse in her throat beat faster. “Because you don’t trust yourself?”
“I don’t trust you.”
“If you tell me no, I’ll stop. I’d never hurt you.”
They were at the top of the stairs and she was still backing away from him down the hallway.
“Then I’m telling you no. Stop. Right now,” she added when he kept moving toward her.
“I haven’t started anything yet.” That was a lie. The moment the children were out of sight, he had begun stalking her with every intention of making her his.
“Don’t you lay a hand on me, Jarrod. Not one finger.”
He moved quickly, before she could sidestep him, and backed her against the wall just outside his bedroom. This time when he took her in there he would make sure they finished what he started.
Putting his hands on the wall, he trapped her without actually touching her.
“I’m warning you, Jarrod.”
“I haven’t laid a finger on you. But I have very specific plans for my mouth—and yours,” he said, grinning at her gasp of outrage.
Before she could duck away, he pressed his lips to hers. Her body tensed, but she didn’t move to escape. With his tongue, he gently nudged her lips apart. She allowed him into the sweet recesses of her mouth. He caressed her until she reluctantly relaxed and then sighed with pleasure.
He continued his assault. Her defenses were crumbling and he couldn’t give her an opportunity to shore up her resistance. He gently kissed the corner of her mouth, her delicate jaw, then took her earlobe into his mouth and bit lightly. When she groaned and squirmed restlessly, he lowered his mouth to the spot below her ear that he knew would make her surrender.
She drew air in between her teeth, and the small, feminine noises she made sorely tested his own restraint. His breathing grew ragged. The waiting for her had seemed like a lifetime. Now that it was over, he was afraid he would disappoint her.
Her skin was silky and smooth to his touch. Her full, soft lips slightly parted in unknowing invitation, shiny from his moist, tormenting kisses. Yearning, as elemental and desperate as the need to draw another breath, took hold of Jarrod and tore him wide open. He was fully aroused, aching from the need for release. But the pain of losing her would be far greater. Instinct told him she shared his desire. But if he was wrong, if she didn’t want him as much as he wanted her, he would respect her wishes and back off. Although it would be the hardest thing he’d ever do.
Abby stared into the intensity of Jarrod’s gray gaze, took in the way his eyes darkened when his mouth moved over hers. Her body had betrayed her, as she’d known it would if he touched her. She could hardly catch her next breath, but the sensations running through her had nothing to do with survival and everything to do with being a woman.
She saw the uncertainty in his eyes. He was giving her the opportunity to walk away. She had to choose: a lifetime of loneliness, or perfect happiness in his arms. In the end, the choice was easy.
She had already lost her heart to Jarrod. She would lose her soul if she didn’t love him now.
Abby lifted his hand from the wall beside her cheek and pressed a kiss into his palm. He closed his eyes as a groan tore from deep in his throat.
She laced her fingers through his and drew him into the room with her. Starting to close the door, she laughed nervously. “We’re alone. I forgot.”
“I didn’t.” He took her face in his hands and stared deeply into her eyes. “Are you sure about this, Abby? Really sure? I don’t want you to feel I pushed you—”
She stopped him with two fingers on his lips. “You did push, make no mistake about that, Jarrod. But I’m glad. I want this and I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
He smiled. “I’m going to take you at your word because, frankly, I don’t think I could stop now.”
The room was cool and an afternoon breeze slipped past crisscrossed lace curtains and out the windows on the other side. The sun shone on the front of the house, leaving this side shadowed.
He led her to the bed and pressed lightly on her shoulders until she sat on the mattress. The bedclothes were neatly folded at the foot. She smiled. He had certainly planned ahead, and been awfully sure of himself. She sighed, not finding it in her to care. She wanted him. How could she be angry at him for feeling the same way?
Jarrod slowly slipped off Abby’s shoes and stockings. Her heartbeat increased as he took lovely liberties while he performed the task. Then he took her hands in his and tugged her to a standing position as he unbuttoned her split skirt and let it fall to her feet. Soon she stood before him in chemise and pantalettes.
He reached out and touched the tip of her breast with one finger. Her nipple puckered and hardened. Her breath caught in her throat as that one light touch created a powerful hunger that swept through her.
Emboldened by the approval she saw in his face, she released the ribbons at the front of the garment. With both hands, Jarrod parted the sides and slid the material off her shoulders. He brought her hands to his mouth and kissed each in turn. “You are more beautiful than I imagined. And believe me, I’ve been imagining a lot lately.”
She reached for the buttons on his shirt and began unfastening them. “I want to see you.”
When he shrugged the shirt off, she pressed her palms to the mat of hair covering his chest, loving the way it tickled. Even better was the way her bare breasts tingled against his skin when he drew her against him. She could feel every beat of her heart. The closeness was so exquisite, a tingling sensation rose all the way from her toes.
“I want to see all of you,” he said, slipping his hand between them to release the tie of her pantalettes. When they were removed, she stood before him without a stitch of clothing.
His hands—big, warm, rough—swallowed hers and held them in a loose grip. “You’re perfect,” he whispered. “I’m glad you think so.” She shivered. “Are you cold?”
She shook her head. How could she tell him that it was the way he looked at her? His gaze was like a warm current that spread through her body i
n waves. The feelings were so powerful, she couldn’t keep them inside.
Jarrod lifted Abby, placed her on the mattress, and pulled the sheet over her. Then he removed the rest of his clothes. As he stood before her, her heart lurched wildly. Wide shoulders and powerful chest tapered to a flat midsection. The mat of hair narrowed on his abdomen and dipped lower, nestling his aroused manhood.
“You’re perfect too,” she said, her voice husky.
He grinned. “I’m glad you think so,” he answered, echoing her own words. He slipped into bed and pulled her into his arms. “You’re so small, so fragile. You make me feel awkward, and afraid.”
“Of what?” she asked, surprised. She was the one who’d never done this before.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice, warm and sweet, touched her everywhere.
“I know.”
“I’ve never felt this way before. You bring out new feelings in me—the need to protect, the desire to please.”
“You do please me.”
That was when she felt her heart slip out of her grasp and her last traces of control shattered. The tenderness was more than she could bear. The force of her love pushed her to him and spun her like a leaf in a twister. No words could express what she was feeling. She could only show him.
Her hand slipped around him, exploring his tough body. The muscles rippling over his back moved beneath her fingers as he cradled her against his strength. So strong, yet so gentle.
Her breathing quickened as he trailed little kisses over her neck, shoulder, and lower. When he took the tip of her breast between his lips, she arched her back, offering herself more fully to him. At the same time, his hand slipped over her abdomen and between her thighs. He performed an exploration of his own, until his thumb stroked the bud of her femininity. She gasped as tremors of pure pleasure shook her and her hips arched against his hand. Her body melted into his and she couldn’t tell where hers left off and his began.
He stroked her. Each touch fueled the fire inside her, making it burn hotter. Heat surged through her; passion branded her. A throbbing began between her legs, sending ribbons of sensation through her stomach. As he continued to take her higher, a frantic, frenzied, desperate need for liberation built within her. Finally, she gave a strained cry as her body clenched and surged wildly and release rolled through her in wave after wave of pleasure.
Blackstone's Bride Page 28