by Unknown
He wasn’t giving an inch.
When push came to shove, he’d bulldoze right over her to keep her from invading his heart.
“No, just thinking out loud,” she replied, feeling drained.
Maybe if she prayed harder?
“Well think quietly,” he said in a curt voice.
She tried not to show her hurt feelings. He’d just think she was playing him. He didn’t have to be nice to her. She’d known before she came here it wasn’t going to be easy to win his trust.
His love?
Jayla set her chin in a way no one knew but her when she was on a mission doomed to failure. From now on, pushing back was her dictum. Anything worth having never came without effort or without pain. God knew there’d been nothing painless about getting back to this man.
For years, she’d held her emotions in check, her rage at the wrongs done to both of them the only thing that got her through the bad times. She might have smothered the feelings she had for this man, buried them so deep she managed to deny they existed and go on with her life, at least a pretext of her life, but they were back in force now. She couldn’t seem to shut them off and wasn’t sure she even wanted to. Why should she? This was the man she wanted and loved. Why shouldn’t she fight for him?
Like live wires, her feelings for Wild jittered around inside her, bouncing against her bruised heart and damn well making their presence felt. She came here to try and right the unjust things done against him, and hopefully ease the guilt she shared in ruining his life, if he’d let her. Nothing she said could ever make it right, but at least she could tell him why she lied. Then if he still wanted her to go, she supposed she’d have little choice but to move on, maybe head to Canada.
For now, pain or no pain, she intended to savor being close to the man she loved. He might not like her, but at least he held her as if she was precious to him. No man had ever cared enough about her to simply hold her in his arms without expecting something in return.
If she didn’t die from infection, blood loss, or get herself killed, she might be able to enjoy what time she managed to steal with this sexy cowboy before running again. Not that he was going to be pleasant, make mad passionate love to her, or even kiss her. Jayla doubted she tempted him to cross any line with her, sexual or otherwise. She’d never possessed the ability to make him want her.
She’d have to work on that. Right. She didn’t anticipate him doing any of those things, but she’d be content just to be near him for a little while, to hear his voice, see him smile again. She frowned. She suspected this man smiled very little. She wanted to be the one who gave him reason to laugh again.
Wild wouldn’t make anything easy for her, but then, most of her life had been spent in the sewers with reptiles like her stepfather, the mighty, Senator Hamilton Ross, and his private black ops mercenary, Kane Masters. Lord knew there’d been nothing easy living around those two men. Wild Remington was a saint compared to them.
Oh, but she didn’t want to think about the senator, Kane, or the bullet he carried with her name on it. She reminded herself that all she wanted to think about was her cowboy, to enjoy how ruggedly good-looking he was, and what time she had with him, to savor how deliciously sexy he looked.
Even now, his arms—yeah, God, what wonderful arms they were too—enveloped her in a capsule of safety. His broad shoulders reminded her of the Rockies, strong, powerful, and steadfast. His biceps, roped with muscle, looked hard as steel underneath the long sleeves of the duster.
One thing was sure—he wasn’t interested in her. Most of the time, he barely looked at her. His gaze, restless as the wind, rarely made direct eye contact with hers.
Why did he avoid looking at her?
Did he hate her so much he couldn’t bear to gaze upon her face for more than a second? Another question, among many questions, that remained unanswered. Maybe one day, she’d convince him to talk to her for more than a minute at a time, to look her in the face for longer than a second.
He’d done nothing to be ashamed of, yet she got the feeling he believed he wasn’t good enough to look upon her.
That was crap!
She was the one unworthy. She’d told lies about him. Her life had been built on lies, lies upon top of lies. If anyone was unworthy, it was she. She rubbed a spot between her eyes that was beginning to ache.
What was she thinking?
Right now, she simply didn’t feel well enough to untangle the deceitful web her life had become. She wasn’t up to handling a verbal skirmish with Wild, or anyone. She just wanted to lie down, close her eyes and keep them closed for at least twenty-four hours.
Grateful in spite of the fact he was bone-deep pissed at her, Wild still handled her as though she might break into a million splinters. He kept his head dipped low, his hat brim shielding her face from the icy wind and missiles of sleet. Jayla wondered if he did it accidentally or if he intended to shelter her. She decided he did it on purpose. Nothing flashy or anything he’d brag about, a simple courtesy ingrained in him so deeply he did it without thinking.
A tiny dart of love winged its way to her heart. It was why she adored the man. The reason she’d always found him irresistible. He shielded the ones smaller and weaker than himself, and it came as natural to him as breathing.
Prison might have made him hard and bitter on the outside, but deep inside where it counted, he was still her Wild. Try as he might to deny he gave a shit about others, Jayla suddenly knew she’d been right to come here to him. Whether he distrusted her or not, despised her or not, he’d protect her with his life if necessary.
She had to have faith in that.
As long as it lived within her, Wild was all she had to safeguard her baby.
Uncomfortable sitting across his legs now that the cramps had eased a little, Jayla shifted her weight.
“What’s wrong,” he asked, alert to her every move.
“Can I sit in front of you? I need to move, maybe. I think.”
“Riding astraddle doesn’t sound like a good idea to me.”
“Please? I have to move.”
“Your call, but if it’s too uncomfortable, let me know at once.”
She nodded and gripped the saddle horn as he helped her turn and relax onto the cool leather in front of him. Jayla settled closer against him and leaned back against his wide chest. God, he felt big as a mountain behind her. His lower trunk, the powerful thighs of a horseman, hugged her butt. Her ass jiggled against his zipper with each jarring step the mare took.
Wild slid an arm around her waist, holding her close and tight
The first she became aware he was aware, was when she heard his soft curse, and felt him shift away from her. Too late. The hard ridge against the crease of her bottom was pretty much a dead giveaway. Jayla grinned in spite of her pain. She loved knowing he had a physical reaction to her other than his emotional anger and hostility, but she didn’t think he did. She bit her lip. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea riding like this. Before she had a chance to voice it, a sharp pain cut across the lower part of her abdomen. Jayla moaned and squeezed his gloved hand.
“What?”
“I–I think you need to put me back like I was.”
He didn’t say a word. Instead, he halted the mare, clamped his hands around her waist, and lifted her across his lap once again.
“How’s that?” he asked, nudging the mare into motion.
“Not good. I…the pain,” she said, grasping the top of his hand.
Wild tried repositioning her, but the movement sent a wash of fresh blood through her slacks. A stunned looked crossed his face. He glanced at his crotch where warm blood wet his jeans, then back to her. “Sit still,” he said his voice tense. “Jesus. You’re bleeding too much.”
“I’m not moving. The horse is.”
“Try not to move with it. And don’t hold on to me so tight. Is it necessary to—”
“What?” She clung to his shirt and blinked innocently at him.
> “Do you have to wiggle and squirm against me? Or, be so dad-gum close?”
“I can’t help it. I’m freezing. I’m trying to get warm.”
“Cold, huh?” He blew out a long, put-upon-breath. “Well then. Okay. If it’s absolutely necessary, I suppose there’s no choice but to let you snuggle.”
He sounded maltreated, but she noticed he tightened his hold on her and drew her closer. Jayla wanted to grin, but it took too much effort. The dull cramps took hold and worsened by the minute, but she was determined to be a trooper. She refused to give him anymore cause to regret helping her. Besides, Wild wouldn’t like a wimpy-ass female. “Thank you for suffering my presence,” she said just below his ear.
“You’re welcome, but don’t make a habit of taking advantage of me.” He jerked his head back, but she didn’t let that faze her.
Jayla snuggled just that much closer, and ignoring his gruff comment, said, “I won’t take advantage of you. I promise.”
“Uh-huh. You cuddle any closer and we’ll be sharing my shorts.”
In spite of her pain, she snorted. “A problem for you, I suppose.”
“You suppose right. Where’s the father of your baby? He should be here with you.”
Jayla closed her eyes. “Do we have to talk about him?”
“Yes.” He growled out the word. “But we don’t have to talk about him right now. Later, when you’re feeling better, I wanna know why you have a bullet in your shoulder.”
“As opposed to being in my brain?”
“I didn’t say that.” He cut his gaze at her, his ice-blue eyes hard as diamonds. “Don’t put words in my mouth. I don’t like it.”
“So now you believe I’ve been shot?”
“I didn’t say that either. I just don’t wanna miss the next lie that comes out of your mouth. So who shot you?”
“An assassin.”
“Well, I didn’t expect it quite so soon.”
“What?” she asked puzzled.
“Your next lie.” He shook his head in wonder. “Boy, when you tell one, at least it’s creative and entertaining.”
She opened her mouth to deny his accusations, but clamped it shut. He wasn’t going to believe her no matter what she said.
“Yeah, in your case, silence is golden. You just can’t help yourself, can you? You open your mouth and the lies roll out, so yup, best to keep it closed.”
She tightened her lips. “Look, it’d be nice if you did, but I never thought for a moment you’d trust or believe me. I don’t care. My shoulder hurts like hell, and these awful cramps are getting worse by the minute.” Jayla released a breathless sigh. “I just need somewhere to lay my head…for a little while, then, I’ll move on. I understand you not wanting to have anything to do with me.”
He looked away as if uncomfortable looking her in the eye. She pressed an unsteady hand against his heart. “I came here thinking you might in some way provide protection for me and my unborn child,” she said quietly. Her voice broke on a trembling note. “But I’m losing my baby, and that hurts even more than the physical pain, so could we try and find something pleasant to talk about?”
“Something pleasant?” His dark brows furrowed as if he had a hard time finding something nice to say. “Hell, I don’t know anything pleasant to talk about. The major portion of my adult education was taught to me by convicts. There was nothing nice about any of it.”
“Can’t you try?” She couldn’t keep the weariness or strain out of her voice. Dead tired, all she wanted was a gazillion hours of uninterrupted sleep and she desperately wanted the pain to go away.
“Pleasant talk?” He cleared his throat and looked around. “Sure lovely weather we’re having.”
“All right!” She didn’t bother to hide her irritation. She couldn’t deal with his facetious attitude right now. “Keep your opinions about the weather to yourself. We both know it sucks, so don’t bother talking at all. I knew you wouldn’t believe anything I said, but haven’t you at least watched the news?”
“No television.”
“Radio?” she asked, hope ringing in her voice.
“Uh-uh. The whole point of living isolated is to be isolated. I don’t wanna know what’s happening in the world, as long as it isn’t happening to my family.”
“That’s a lonely life,” she replied feeling sad and guilty that he didn’t want the world intruding into the secluded home he’d encapsulated himself within.
“Yeah? Well it’s the life you left me when you told that lie on the witness stand.” He sounded bitter and who could blame him?
What she’d done to him was unforgivable. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it, ma’am. I don’t. Not anymore.”
She hated it when he reverted to using that damn ma’am, so polite, cold, and distant as the icy peaks they rode toward. There was something vulnerable and a little lost on his face. He reminded her of an animal that had been beaten down and she wondered just how close he was to giving up.
Jayla’s heart clenched. God, she’d done this to him. She wanted to drag him into her arms and comfort him, to sooth away his hurt and cynicism. “I think maybe you worry about it a lot, cowboy.”
“Ancient history. Let it go.”
“I wish we both could, but neither of us can.” She caught her breath as another sharp hitch cut across her midriff and shot straight into her womb. “Ahhh!” She squirmed miserably in his arms.
He sent her a quick look and clenched his jaw before focusing his gaze past the millions of pines that littered the basin and on the distant snow-covered summits of the jagged Rockies.
She gripped the front of his duster as another slash of pain cut through her. “Ooo God, that hurts!”
“Hold on,” he said. “We’re almost there.”
“I’m trying.” She curled her fingers around his gloved fingers on the reins. “Don’t let me lose my baby,” she whispered.
He looked startled. “Lord, honey, don’t put that kind of burden on me. I’ll only let you down.”
“You won’t.” She patted his arm. “You won’t. You never let me down. It was I who let you down.”
Wild nudged the mare into a faster walk. “I’m not so sure about that anymore. Anyway, I told you not to fret about the past. Right now, you have more important things to be concerned about, like hanging on tight to that little one you got tucked away inside you.”
Tears blurred her vision. “My little one?” A fierce ache grabbed her heart and squeezed. Her throat felt raw from trying to force back the tears she’d wanted to let go of for three friggin’ days. Pictures tumbled through her head of a little dark haired girl, curls bouncing when she skipped to her, tiny arms opened wide with trust, sounds of childish laughter, her sweet voice calling, “Mommy, Mommy, come swim with me,” trusting her to keep her safe.
Her little one.
Wild’s words brought it all crashing down on her, the last straw. The dam broke, and she burst into tears. She buried her face against his chest and sobbed.
“Jesus God, what’d I say?” Panic filled Wild’s voice. “Shit! Is the pain worse? What did I do?”
“Nothing.” She lifted her head, stared at him, and sobbed harder. “You said, your little one.”
“God above.” Alarm lined the grooves of his face. “I didn’t mean to say anything to make you fall apart.”
“You didn’t do or say anything wrong.”
“You just said—you never have made a lick of sense. Is the pain worse?”
“Noo. I don’t know why I’m weeping like a wretched willow.” Oh, how she wished that was true.
His lips twitched. “I don’t think willows actually weep.”
“I know that,” she cried, unable to suppress the crankiness bombarding her. Her bad temper didn’t faze him.
He shrugged and said, “Maybe you should concentrate on breathing.”
“I’m breathing just fine. It’s all the rest of me that’s seeping like a dike.” Really
, didn’t he know when to leave a crabby female alone and give her some space?
“Can you try not to seep so much?” His voice sounded dry as a withered leaf in fall.
He had a sense of humor? Who knew? “I am trying.” She blubbered harder.
“Damn, woman…whatever you’re doing isn’t working.”
“I know ittt.” Wailing, she buried her face against his chest. “Just leave me alone.”
Awkwardly, he patted her back. “Okay. Okay. Um…I know…take some deep breaths, or…or…maybe you should pant. Don’t women pant at times like this?”
Yeah, he was definitely in a state of panic. She really needed him to stay calm because she was in enough of a tizzy for the both of them. “I’m not in labor, for heaven’s sake! I’m having a–a…” She bit her lower lip. How to explain? “A hormonal moment.” She thought that pretty much said it all.
“Hormonal moment?” He turned blood red right before he scrunched his face with embarrassment.
“You know? Those mangy little critters that’s responsible for emotions from hell that causes a woman to go berserk during PMS.”
“I know what womanly hormones are,” he said beneath his breath, looking anywhere except at her.
Jayla smiled between her tears. It didn’t help the pain any, but it was kind of endearing to know her big, tough cowboy was uncomfortable discussing female monthly functions. She wouldn’t have thought anything discomfited this man. He’d taken her bleeding all over him in fairly good stride. “Yeah, you know the time of month when a woman just goes ape shit?”
“Gotcha.” He coughed and looked straight ahead for a long moment. Then risking a look at her, he lifted a brow. “So, is it safe to be around you or should I duck behind a boulder again? You aren’t going to take a few more potshots at me or my hat…are you?”
“No. I’ll be all right.” She sniffed. “I’m not dangerous or–or anything.” Was that really her who sounded so pitiful?
Wild snorted. “Lady, you’ve always been dangerous.”
He might not appreciate her intrusion into his life, but still, he rubbed her back, a calming motion he didn’t seem to be aware of doing, like maybe he thought he ought to sooth the savage beast before she turned rabid.