Watching the satisfied smile of triumph that was spreading across Hank's face, rekindled the embers of Kate's temper. She had tried to be nice to him, to reason with him, and he had returned her kindness by insulting her. Lifting her fingers to the top button of her shirt, she made to unfasten it. "You can at least turn your head."
Still laughing, Hank turned his back to her. "Take them off, Kate."
Moving swiftly, Kate ran past Hank, and out the line shack door.
She was untying Ringo's reins before Hank's hands grabbed onto her arms and held them fast. "You little spitfire. You have come up against the wrong man." He threw Kate over his shoulder. "This time, Kate, you've gone too far."
Kate ground out furiously, "Put me down!"
"Not until you are out of these clothes, and scrubbed down." Hank set Kate on his knee. "Your backside is full of prickly pear stickers. I can pull them out for you."
Kate had never been so humiliated. She fastened her teeth into the hard muscles of His shoulder, and bit, hard.
Hank stood to his feet, and cried out in pain.
Kate landed with a thud on the floor.
He swore under his breath. "Damn you, woman."
Kate saw her opportunity. She made a dash for the door.
A strong arm caught her before she was halfway across the floor. "No you don't, not again." Hank tossed Kate on the bed, and came down beside her. "Damn it, Kate, you're getting mud all over the bed."
"I didn't ask to be in your bed." Kate spat the words at him. As she turned, her shirt pulled open, revealing the soft swell of her breasts.
"You've been asking to be in my bed since the first day I set eyes on you." Very gently, Hank's hands pulled the shirt from Kate's body.
Mesmerized by his solemn confession, she made not the slightest move to stop him.
His lips dipped to touch the hollow of her throat. "Driving me insane with desire, making me wild with wanting you!" The shirt was dispensed with post haste, then the bra went.
It seemed the most natural thing in the world to answer his ardor with passionate honesty. "What if I can't please you?"
He unfastened her belt, then unsnapped her jeans. "We can please each other, sweet Katie. trust me." Hank tossed his shirt over his shoulder.
Kate guided his face to the softness of her breasts. "Can you show me how?"
"We can show each other."
"I don't know," Uncertainty nudged in to challenge passion. "I don't think I..."
Those seeking lips were driving her into a frenzy of yearning.
Hank guided her hand to the evidence of his desire. "Don't think, Kate, feel."
She had to explain. "Most of the time I can' t..." Shame made her voice rough.
"I don't reach a climax."
"Katie, relax. I'm not asking you to perform according to some standard, I'm asking you to let me make love to you. Let me show you how much joy loving fulfillment can bring to both of us." His hands were instruments of erotic splendor, wandering over her body, exploring, caressing, as they lit little fires of desire along their pathway.
For the first time ever, Kate gave her body permission to feel, not fear, and the result was a floating, languid sensation. "Tell me what to do."
"What do you want to do, Kate?" His voice was soft in her ear.
"I want to touch you here," Her hands moved across his muscular chest. "and here," and came to rest on his tight buttocks. "I want to taste you here." Her tongue licked at the tight male nipples. She dipped her head, "And here."
A shudder ran through his body. "You have my permission to touch and taste any part of me."
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Hank took his time. "Boots first." Sliding Kate's water soaked boots from her feet, he pulled away the soggy socks that clung to her damp toes.
Helping her to her feet, he slid her jeans down over her hips, kissing the hollow of her naval as he pushed the heavy denim away. "You're beautiful, Kate."
It would occur to her later, that what she thought was spontaneity could have been no more than the fine art of practiced seduction. But the bemused woman who now shivered under the gentle touch of those enticing fingers, the knowing influence of that seductive mouth, had moved past rational thinking, and slipped into the mind boggling realm of sexual surrender.
In a matter of moments, she stood before him, clad only in a pair of thin bikini panties. From somewhere deep inside him, a low moan rose to escape through his dry lips. "Oh, Kate!" His hand reached to pull the last flimsy barrier away.
She ran her hands long the strong muscles of his arms, and watched as a shiver of desire ripped through his hard body. Pulling her to him, he buried his face in the softness of her abdomen. "I knew it would be like this, the Fourth of July and Christmas rolled into one." His tongue traced a path down her quivering stomach. "Just touching you sets me on fire." Lifting her in his arms, he laid her nude body on the bed.
With amazing agility and speed, he divested himself of every stitch of his own clothing, and came down beside her. Drawing her, oh so gently into his arms, he began to make love to her. His crooning voice was an aphrodisiac, his mouth and hands instruments of exquisite wonder.
Like the swelling of a gentle, but insistent tide, passion rose, ebbed, climbed higher, fell again, then elevated until Kate was pulled into an erotic eddy that swept away every trace of restraint, any remnant of refusal.
Her surrender was as complete as it was abandoned. With that abdication of anything past instinct, came an unerring sense of his every need, every desire. Her own craving was an echo of his sensual hunger.
The mud smeared bed became a paradise all its own. "Kate, Kate, Darling." Hank positioned himself over her with pliant ease.
Kate's body moved in erotic jerks, as it pulsated with tiny aching seizures. Arching toward him, she begged for the release that only he could give her. "Please, please."
He entered her body with tantalizing restraint, then began to move easily, smoothly, maddeningly.
Her head arched back, the white column of her throat rose and strained, as deep inside her, a force of pleasure began to build, and expand, threatening her reason, intimidating her sanity. The bliss that was first concentrated in her loins, unfolded and spread to her belly, her breasts, her legs, her arms, even out into her finger tips, until she was a mass of quivering, expectant joy.
The joy climaxed and burst into tidal waves of ecstasy, as she felt his essence spill into her body. The waves receded into ripples of complete fulfillment.
As he held her, she felt rapture pouring from him, his heart hammering, his muscles jerking in unchained joy. "Kate, Kate, my Kate!"
Through a haze of exhilarating contentment, she heard him speaking her name, over and over. Her first sane thought was, this man belonged to her now. Sobering reality made her reconsider her bold assumption. The one thing that would drive him away would be some declaration of enduring affection. Kate contented herself with snuggling nearer to him, and nestling her head on his shoulder.
Hank caressed her body, lovingly. "Cat got your tongue, Kate?"
"I guess." She didn't trust her voice. It sounded unreal, and far away. She knew she should run, move, escape. Her traitorous body refused to obey.
Hank laughed with sated contentment. "Ah, Katie, if you had been any better, I'd be a dead man. God, you are some woman."
She wasn't sure he meant it, but oh, how she needed to hear those words. She let her fingers tangle themselves in the hair on his chest as her drifting body made one last effort to remain awake, and failed.
Kate woke to find long shadows had crept silently into the room. Hank lay beside her, sprawled across the bed, one bare arm thrown carelessly around her waist, the other trailing off the side of the bed.
She sat up and ran her fingers through her matted hair. The impulse to run was overpowering. She began to untangle her grimy clothes from Hank's. First, she slipped into her muddy jeans, then pushed her arms into her grime-caked shirt. Time enough later to
sort out the many conflicting emotions that slammed around inside her. For now mere survival seemed tied to escape. She couldn't face Hank now, not after the wanton way she had behaved.
One heartbreaking realization returned over and over, to taunt her. She had entangled herself in an impossible situation. Pulling her damp socks on Kate pushed her feet into her boots, and tiptoed to the door. Then she paused to let her eyes linger lovingly on the man who lay stretched out on the bed, sound asleep. How could she ever face him again? She pulled the door almost shut, and ran toward her horse.
It was too late to complete her ride. Turning Ringo toward home, Kate gave him a gentle nudge. Mamma was probably frantic by now.
Belle took one look at her daughter, and asked, "What in the world happened to you?"
Kate unbuttoned her muddy shirt, and tossed it to one side. "Ringo threw me. The storm scared him, Cody was right. I shouldn't have ridden in weather like this."
"Go take a shower, Kate." Belle moved about the kitchen. "When you come back, you can eat supper. She handed Kate a cup of hot coffee. "Where did Ringo throw you? It must have been a far piece away from here. It's almost dark outside."
"Mamma, damn it, you know what I mean. Ringo didn't throw me to any place, he threw me off his back." Why, Kate wondered, as she grabbed a towel, and a bar of soap, did she bother trying to explain anything to her mother? Especially since Belle didn't intend to believe anything she said anyway.
"You look like he threw you into a mud hole. How long did it take you to get out?"
Kate slammed the back door behind her. Sooner or later, she would have to deal with Mamma's cross examination. A clean body and food in her stomach should make the rigors of that task easier.
Remembering the hours she had spent in the line shack with Hank caused Kate to sing in the shower. That kind of lovemaking could become addictive.
Kate sighed as she recalled the touch of Hank's hand on her breasts, her thighs, the way his lips had moved over her body. He had carried her to peaks of pleasure she had not known existed.
"Stop it, you fool!" She forced herself to remember that Hank was already involved with another woman. Not that his liaison with Gina mattered much to Hank. Hadn't he told Kate that he didn't make promises he wouldn't keep? And hadn't York once remarked in passing, that Hank changed women frequently?
Kate pulled her robe around her. Was that what she wanted, to be another female in the long, endless line of Hank Sinclair's women? Her heart ached inside her. Not only did she not want to be, she didn't intend to be.
A heartbreaking realization swept over her. For her own well being, indeed her own sanity, she could not let Hank make love to her again. It was not only fool hardy, it was down right dangerous. She stood to lose not only her job, but her heart.
The intense physical response he had pulled from her was reason for alarm. The profound feeling of possessive adoration he kindled in her heart caused panic to rise in her throat. Kate slung her towel over her arm. "I can't let this happen. No man is worth the price of heartbreak, not even Hank Sinclair."
Belle was strangely quite as she set food before Kate. It was a quiet that made Kate instantly suspicious. Maybe Belle had found a new way to play her cat and mouse game. Kate asked, "Where is Cody?"
Belle was carefully busy. "Do you need Cody for something?"
"Mamma, can't you give me one simple answer?"
"I don't have any answers." Belle poured coffee into a cup, and put it on the table. "All I have are questions."
Well, she had walked right into that one. "What question, Mamma?" Kate pulled the sugar bowl to her side of the table.
Belle sipped her coffee, and shuddered. "Too bitter."
"Good." Kate lifted the sugar bowl lid, and saw it was empty.
Reaching for the canister on the edge of the table, Belle grinned. "I put the sugar in here." She tugged at the lid. "Were you hurt when Ringo threw you?"
Kate's smile was wry. "No. Mamma. I'm all right."
As she dumped a spoonful of sugar into her coffee, Belle asked, "Did you land on your head?"
"As a matter of fact, Mamma, I did." Kate reached for the canister. "Mamma, do you want your triglyceride count to go up again?"
The instant the back door opened, Kate knew it was Hank. She heard the jingle of his spurs, smelled the after shave he wore, felt his presence in her bones.
Belle stopped stirring her coffee, and smiled. "Hello, Hank. Don't bother knocking, just come on in. My Lord, you must have been dumped in the same mud hole Kate fell into."
Kate thought her head was fastened to her neck with a rusty hinge. She could not turn. "Hank? Why are you here, at this hour?"
The jingle of spurs told Kate that Hank was moving toward the table. "Hello. Belle, Kate." Without an invitation, Hank pulled out a chair, and sat down. His eyes caught and held Kate's in a defiant gaze.
Belle had not missed the look that passed between Hank and Kate. "Hank, do sit down. Would you like a cup of coffee?"
"Mamma." Kate sent her mother a furious warning stare. She could have saved her time, and her breath.
Belle blithely proceeded to chat with Hank is if he were a welcome guest, not an uninvited intruder. "Would you like a piece of apple pie? I made it yesterday."
"Pie sounds great." Hank looked down at his hands. "Could I wash up first?"
Remembering where those hands had been, and what they had done, made Kate blush furiously. "There's mud in your hair, too." The anger she felt at his bold encroachment crept into her voice.
Over the running water, Hank asked, "Belle, could I talk to Kate for a few minutes? We have some unfinished business to discuss."
"Don't mind me." Belle helped herself to a generous slice of pie. "Lord knows I'm not a butinsky."
As unsettled as she was, Kate could not keep her smile from surfacing. Belle could aggravate a saint.
Hank sat back down, much too near Kate. "The business is of a personal nature. Do you mind?"
Belle sprinkled sugar over her pie. "No. I don't mind at all."
Hank's fingers drummed on the table."It's also private."
Completely composed, Belle pushed her fork into the crust of her pie. "I'm not a blabbermouth, either."
"Damn it, Belle, will you get out of here and let me talk to Kate alone?"
Belle stood. "All you had to do was say so. I can take a hint."
As Belle disappeared into the living room carrying a cup of coffee in one hand, and her slice of pie in the other, Hank shook his head from side to side. "She did that on purpose, just to irritate me."
"You don't know the half of it. But feel flattered, she only does it to people she cares about."
"While you're explaining motives and behavior, Kate," Hank's voice was light, but through that bantering tone ran a note of somber sincerity, "tell me why you took me to my own line shack, ravished me, then rode off into the sunset without even waking me to say thanks." He made a helpless little gesture with his hands. "I never before felt so compromised."
"You're not funny." Kate studied her coffee cup. "I didn't want to disturb you."
"Katie, you've been disturbing me since the morning I walked in here and found you asleep on the floor. Why did you run away?"
She thought how stupid this conversation was. It was the man who was supposed to run, leaving the woman feeling bereft and cheated. "I couldn't face you after you..." Kate swallowed painfully. "After we..." She blew breath through her nose. "Damn it, I was scared."
"Were you disappointed?"
"About what?"
Hank pushed his hat back, and scratched his head. "Do you and Belle take lessons in how to ask obtuse questions? Did you like making love with me?"
"Do you want a signed statement, or a recommendation?" He had devastated her with his lovemaking, now he wanted her to tell him how wonderful he was. Hank's eyes narrowed. "How about a repeat performance?"
"No, thank you."
"Why not?"
She didn't want
to anger him, and he looked as if that would be easy to do. "I don't think we should become involved personally."
Hank threw both hands in the air. "Good God, woman! We've shared the same mud hole and the same bed. How personal does it have to get to be involved personally?"
Damn him. Why didn't he go away and shut up? But he was her employer, and she did want to hold onto her job. With a meekness that belied her rising wrath, she asked, "Can't we forget about what happened?"
"Did you run because you were disappointed?"
And she thought she was insecure. "No, what happened was wonderful."
Hank stabbed his pie with his fork. "Compared to what?"
"And you say Mamma and I ask obscene questions! What do you mean, compared to what?"
Hank jabbed the pie again, then twisted the fork around, viciously. "I didn't say you asked obscene questions, I said you asked obtuse questions. There's a difference. Obtuse means stupid, obscene means indecent."
Kate hissed, "Don't Call Mamma stupid, she'll hear you. Don't you know she's listening, just outside the door?"
Hank lifted his hat, then ran one hand through his hair. "My life was relatively quiet and reasonably peaceful until you and Mamma came along. Since that first morning I walked in here and found you sleeping on the hay, I haven't had one sane minute."
"We didn't do anything to you."
"Not much, you didn't. Mamma aimed a shotgun at me, and you -- hell, you did worse than that."
The events of that morning played across Kate's memory. "As I recall, I was very polite and nice. At least I tried to be. You were the one who was rude and boorish."
"Didn't do anything?" Hank's voice rose. "My God, woman, you paraded around in a tissue paper thin gown with that patch of red hair between your legs itching and twitching and winking at me like crazy. I couldn't think of anything else for days."
Kate's hands flew to cover that spot between her legs. Hank's admission that he had been sexually attracted to her from the beginning was as frightening as it was surprising. "That is obscene."
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