by Unknown
“And you think that makes it all right?”
“I didn’t say that. Look, forget it. Will you please help me to the bathroom?” She was in desperate need of a shower and fresh clothes.
“Yeah, I’ll help,” he snarled. “I’ll fucking help! Jesus, how could you forget—”
“I’m sor—” The rest of her words died on a low moan. She bit her lower lip and curled into a tight ball. Spasm after spasm racked her body. “Crap, it hurts.”
“Shit! I can’t believe this is happening.” Wild squatted beside the bed. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m sorry.”
Cutting her gaze up at Wild, she thought he looked scared. To apologize to her, he must be positively terrified. His face looked as washed out as she felt. He chewed on his bottom lip like he’d just come off a starvation diet. She’d been through this before, knew what to expect, what could happen, but he’d never faced something like this. She understood his horror, but it didn’t change the fact she needed his help.
“It’s okay,” she said through clenched teeth, trying to reassure him.
“Hell no, it isn’t okay.” He raked unsteady fingers through his thick dark hair. “You aren’t okay.”
He looked and sounded utterly helpless.
She palmed his cheek. The stubble on his face rubbed against her skin. She liked the sand papery texture of it. He smelled like leather. Cowboy hats and chaps were two of the things she remembered him wearing the most that summer. It reminded her of just how much man he’d become. He always had a lariat in his hands, practicing roping some fence post or yearling. He’d been blatantly sexy without even trying. One of those summer days, he’d roped her, she recalled, and gently pulled her to him. Perched on a corral fence, he’d stared at her mouth for the longest time. Finally, he shook himself as if coming out of a trance, and slid the rope over her head. “Damn, kid, I don’t know why I did that. Run play with your dolls.”
She’d felt like smacking him because he’d deliberately put her in a safe, Do not Touch, children’s bracket in his mind. She hadn’t played with dolls since she was six years old. It was the first time she’d felt the need to kiss him. Somehow, she’d known he felt the same urgent desire to explore each other’s lips that she felt.
She wished he’d never let her go.
That summer he was always galloping away on some horse, rounding up cattle, chasing calves, especially when she was around. She’d adored him, and he avoided her like the plague. She still adored him, and she suspected he’d still avoid her if given half a chance.
“Poor man, I’ve plucked you right out of your safety zone and dropped you into my mess. Haven’t I?”
Swearing, he lifted her in his arms as if she was as fragile as spun glass and carried her to the bathroom. Gingerly, he lowered her to the floor. “Don’t worry about me, ma’am. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself. What do you need me to do?”
Clearly he was saying she couldn’t look after herself. Duh! She looked up fighting tears that threatened to overwhelm her at his unexpected kindness. “I–um…privacy?”
“You’ll be okay in here alone?” He looked away, a man trapped in a situation he had no desire to be caught in.
“I think so. I—”
A soft hiss escaped him. Jayla looked up in time to see him stare dumbfounded at the small puddle of blood pooling on the floor between her shoes.
“The hell you will.” He reached around her to twist on the water to the shower. “Outta the pants, babe.”
Startled at his calling her babe, Jayla obeyed him like a child. She fumbled with the button and zipper before kicking off her shoes. Clenching her teeth, she drew a deep breath, dreading the onslaught of pain she knew was coming. Jayla shimmied out of the slacks, working them quickly down her hips and kicking them aside. She didn’t know which pain was worse, the dull cramps in her belly or the fire in her shoulder.
“Can you help me with my sweater? My arm…I can barely move it.”
He hesitated, raking his gaze up and down the length of her bare legs. His gaze zeroed in on the tiny bikini panties concealing her womanhood. Coughing, he jerked his gaze away and tugged the tightly knitted material over her head. She grabbed it and pressed it against her breasts up to her neck.
Self-conscious, she glanced at the ribbons of drying blood on her legs, then back up. “I know I’m a bit of a mess. She tucked a swath of hair behind her ear. “But I clean up pretty good.”
“Don’t joke.” He made no attempt to conceal his fury, evident in the way he spoke and his clenched fists. “I wanna know what you’ve dragged me into.”
“I’ll tell you everything. I swear,” she said, reading the doubt in his eyes. “Just as soon as I clean up and–um…I need a moment…ya know?”
Wild relaxed his fists and jammed his thumbs in his jean loops. He rocked back on his boot heels. “I know you don’t mean that literally. You need several moments. I understand, but I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone in here. You might get dizzy, pass out. The last thing you need is to fall. We need to get you off your feet as soon as possible.”
“I’ll be fine.” As fine as she’d ever be as long as Kane Masters lived and hunted her like an animal. “I’ll hurry.”
Wild hesitated. His piercing blue eyes reflected the pulsating fury he felt. Jayla’s heart sank. He was pissed at her for dragging him into this mess. She couldn’t blame him. She hadn’t thought about the risk to his life when she made the decision to come to him.
“I’m sorry,” she said, once again cupping the side of his face. “I shouldn’t have come here and dumped all this on you. I see that now. It isn’t fair to ask you to risk your life for me.”
“Whether I risk my life for you or not, is my choice.” He locked his fingers around her wrist and lowered her hand, making it plain he didn’t want any more physical contact between them than necessary. His gaze flickered away, quick as always. “Clean up while I take care of the horse. I won’t be outside but just a minute. Then I’ll stoke the fire, can’t have you catching pneumonia. If you need me, call out.”
Jayla halted him with the touch of her fingers on his arm. To hell if he wanted physical contact or not. She needed to touch and be touched. She’d always been a kind of touchy feely sort of person. He might as well get used to her touch. If she had her way, there’d be plenty of touching and feeling between them.
Tiptoeing, she daringly pressed her mouth against his. She’d meant it to be brief, but for some reason, he didn’t pull away like she thought he would. He didn’t kiss her back, either, but locked his fingers on her upper arms, and gently thrust her away. Thank God he’d been gentle because just that light touch on her arm sent shards of pain screaming through her shoulder.
“Why’d you do that?” he asked. “Why’d you kiss me? Never mind the reason why. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
He reminded her of a grouchy old bear. He snarled and snapped, but underneath that tough hide, he possessed a tender heart.
“Thanking you?”
“I don’t think so.” He wiggled his fingers at his sides as if they tingled.
Did she make him that nervous?
“You have bigger concerns than playing games with me.”
Yep, definitely gruff as an old bear. He cleared his throat, unmistakably jumpy around her. Jayla didn’t think his edginess was caused by the fact someone wanted her dead. His stance spoke volumes—it was her and only her that rattled him. His guard was up and up high.
“You want my advice?” He stuck his nose next to hers. “Don’t do that again,” he warned.
“I don’t want your advice,” she declared holding her ground. No, the only thing she wanted was him. Couldn’t the big galoot see that? She knew darn well she was insane to push him the way she kept pushing him, but if she gave up now, she’d never win his trust or his love. “God, you’re hell on a woman’s ego.”
“And you’re death to a man’s soul.” He looked away, staring off in the distance bef
ore returning his gaze to hers, his silver-blue eyes cold, face blank as a mannequin’s. “Games. It’s the only life you know. Isn’t it? You don’t care who you damage in the process, as long as little Jayla gets what she wants.”
She swallowed hard. “I don’t know, Wild. I’ve never got what I wanted, but you’re always going to judge me and find me lacking, aren’t you?”
“Because you lack the traits I want in a woman, first and foremost, honesty. It’s something you know nothing about and can never measure up to. You broke me once, with your lies and betrayal.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Her voice quivered. “I get it, Wild, I do. You don’t have to drive my shortcomings home. You stand there judging me for one of the biggest mistakes of my life, and granted, I’m guilty as hell, but you don’t know me or my reasons for doing what I did.”
“One of the biggest mistakes? You’re saying you did something worse than perjure yourself and send me to prison?”
“Yes.”
He rubbed a hand across the side of his brow and sighed. “For some reason I don’t find it the least bit surprising.”
“No, I don’t suppose you would. You’re so righteous and accusing when you have no clue what my life’s been like or the hell I’ve been through.” She sounded both bitter and sad. Damn it! She needed to shut up. She didn’t come here for his pity or sympathy. “You don’t know me,” she repeated.
“I don’t wanna know you.”
God, could he sound any colder?
Don’t cry! Don’t let him reduce you to tears.
“I don’t wanna know what you did,” he continued. “And I don’t give a shit about your reasons for lying and sending me to prison. They have no bearing because no matter what, they were wrong. You were wrong. You can tell yourself you had no choice, but you made the decision to do the wrong thing.” He drew a deep breath and slowly released it. “Now hop in that shower. This conversation’s over.” He turned to go, his back rigid as a fence post.
Tears rose to the back of her throat. Pregnant and unbalanced hormones! It felt worse than PMS. How she hated feeling like a bag of tears waiting to splash down on someone’s unsuspecting head. She had to get a grip on her emotions, but she couldn’t bear to lose Wild, and she was losing him. Jayla frowned. But then he’d never been hers to lose.
You can tell yourself you had no choice, but you made the decision to do the wrong thing.
He was right. She’d made a terrible decision that day and she’d paid over and over again for it. “You don’t understand,” she cried, desperate for him to stay and listen.
Looking back now, she wondered if her reason for lying was as justified as she thought at the time. Hindsight was twenty-twenty. She’d been so young. She hadn’t known what to do or how to handle what was happening.
It was much too late to second-guess her decision from back then. It didn’t matter anyway because nothing she said or did now would ever make it up to him. The best thing she could do for the moment was shower and lie down, before it was too late.
In spite of trying to choke them back, tears spilled down her face. He didn’t turn to face her, but stood there with his back to her, his fingers clenched around the doorknob. She swiped away the tears. Damn it! She couldn’t bring herself to give up. “I waited,” she said hurriedly before he could open the door and leave. “I put my life on hold and waited for you to get out of prison.”
Reluctantly, he turned to face her, his eyes filled with scorn. “I think it’s obvious you didn’t put your life on hold. You’re pregnant,” he said with that bluntness that sometimes escaped him. “My life was not only on hold, it was slaughtered like a steer by a selfish little brat of a girl, who, because she couldn’t have what she wanted, decided on a way to punish me. Well, lady, you chose a good one, because I’ll pay for the rest of my life!”
Inside, Jayla cringed. He believed she’d lied on the witness stand for revenge? He had it all wrong. She didn’t have the first clue how to convince him he was wide of the mark. The hostile mood he was in, he’d never listen to her, let alone believe anything she said. “Yes, I’m going to have a baby, but nothing is ever as it seems.”
He snorted. “Seems pretty damn clear to me.”
Jayla wished she could curl up and die. She felt alone. Hopeless. Helpless. She dug her nails into the sweater pressed against her breasts. “I can only say I’m sorry so many times. Either you forgive me, or shove that knife blade in my back you wanna stick there.”
“You ever had a knife in the back?” he asked. Ice layered his tone.
She was getting nowhere fast. “Of course not. Not yet, anyway.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Man, she really wasn’t feeling up to a word slinging contest with him. He had to stop talking circles around her. She felt as droopy as a wilted flower, too tired to figure out the meanings behind his words. She pushed her hair out of her eyes and sighed. “Can we discuss this another time?”
“Hell. Forget it. It doesn’t mean a damn thing,” he said with a brusqueness that should have ended the conversation. He folded his arms across his chest, his eyes narrowed to mere slits. “Look, Jayla, we aren’t kids on a creek bank anymore. This isn’t some silly game you can play and not expect consequences.” He nodded as if she’d agreed. “I’m not the kind of man you wanna fool around with. I wasn’t back then and I sure as sweet hell ain’t now. I’ve changed. I’m hard and I’m cold and I’m mean as a rattler with two heads. I don’t know why the hell you came here or what you want—”
“You,” she said softly, cutting off his words. “I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”
“Good God,” he breathed, disbelief stamped on his face “You don’t know what the fuck you want, little girl.”
“You’re wrong, Wild. I’ve always known what I wanted. It’s just that others made my choices for me. I had to take some detours to get back to you. You might as well man up ‘cause I’m not going away this time. And I’m not a little girl.”
“You’re insane. Coming here proves it. You have a crazy notion I’m some sort of hero who can save you from the boogey man.” Wild slowly relaxed his clenched jaw. “Well, I’m not.”
“He’s worse than any boogey man. I just want a normal life. I want a man who loves me as much as I love him. What’s so wrong about that?”
Wild’s expression didn’t change. It remained cool and distant. He’d drawn an invisible line between them, one he had absolutely no intention of crossing or allowing her to cross. “Love? No.” He shook his head. “I won’t go there with you. For every action, there are consequences, and they aren’t always pleasant. You and me? Uh-uh. There’s never been anything remotely pleasant between us.”
“I know that, but—”
“No.” He stepped back. “You aren’t fifteen anymore, Jayla. You’re a woman, and shit, you’re pregnant. You have a baby to think of, to keep safe. And me, hell, I’m no good for anyone.”
“You aren’t twenty anymore, either,” she shot back. “And believe me, I know I’m pregnant, but I’m done waiting. I may not have tomorrow or next week. You’re on my bucket list, cowboy. Accept it, because before I die, there’s at least one more thing I intend to have.”
“Whaddaya gonna do?” he drawled. “Rape me? Thanks to you, you wouldn’t be the first.” He turned on his boot heel. Jerking open the door, he closed it quietly behind him. The utter quietness resounded again and again in her mind.
Jayla pressed a trembling hand to her heart. “Oh, God.” She looked around, desperate for a means of escape, but where would she go? Whether Wild liked it or not, whether he hated her guts or not, she and her baby had no one but him.
Feeling as old and ancient as a withered hag, Jayla bent over, but this time, the pain attacking her body wasn’t caused from cramps or her shoulder. No, the dull ache nipping away at her heart had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with the man whose life she’d utterly ri
pped to shreds.
Damn it, why did she always rush headlong into things? She needed to slow down and think things through. For all she knew, Wild Remington wanted her as dead as Kane Masters did. She bit her lower lip. She should slow down, approach things a little more subtle with Wild, but she was terrified she’d run out of time before she won his love.
Jayla straightened up, squared her shoulders, and finished undressing. She refused to allow her thinking to go askew now. She came here because she’d known in her heart the cowboy would take care of her. She had no choice but to trust Wild would protect her and her unborn child.
And damn it, she wasn’t giving him a choice.
He was her hero. The man was going to love her even if she had to threaten him with that pistol she’d found on his bed.
Stepping inside the shower, Jayla let the blood and tears mingle with the water and wash down the drain. She’d made a major mistake coming here, but there was no going back. Standing there with the warm water sluicing over her aching body, she decided even if there was something she could do about it, she wouldn’t. Right here with Wild was where she wanted to be.
He might run, but he couldn’t hide.
He didn’t realize it yet, but the cowboy was taken.
Chapter Six
Confidence is the feeling you sometimes have before you fully understand the situation.
~Unknown
Montana
West side of Dancing Star
February 20, Friday
3:35 p.m.
Wild paced the length of the room and waited impatiently for Jayla to finish her shower. She didn’t realize it yet, but she simply couldn’t go ‘round kissing him! Merciful God, he was a man, one who was much too weary and embittered—worse, he was a hungry man.
It had been so long since he’d touched a woman intimately. Hell, he couldn’t recall the last time he’d had sex, except it’d been before he went to prison. Damn good thing he had a smidgen of restraint. Any other man might leap to all kinds of wrong conclusions and jump her bones.