9781618854490WildChelceeNC

by Unknown

  She looked around, desperate. Why had she mentioned her volunteer work at the hospital? She knew next to nothing about patient care. She sure as hell didn’t know anything about frostbite.

  Jayla bit her lip. How could she be this useless when he needed her so much?

  What was she supposed to do?

  How did she help him?

  The shower. She needed to get him under warm water. Or did she?

  Tears suddenly filled her eyes and overflowed. Damn it! This was no time to be a weeping willow. But the misgivings hammered away at her. Scared of doing the wrong thing, of hurting him or harming him to the point she did more damage than good, so instead, she stood there doing nothing.

  “I’m so sorry,” Jayla whispered, wiping away her tears with the back of her arm. “You have frostbite and I don’t know how to help you.”

  “No–not–frostbite,” he stammered.

  “What?” Jayla stared at him. What did he mean, not frostbite?

  Her face must look blank, but damn it, she was scared out of her mind for him and he just sat here arguing. “It is. Yes, it is frostbite. You’ll lose your toes, Wild, maybe even your feet. I have to thaw them.” She dropped to her knees in front of him and rubbed his toes and feet. “God, they’re like ice.” Tears fell with a vengeance and splattered the tops of her hands, but she didn’t have time to think about being an emotional female and such silly nonsense. “I need to get you in the shower.” Jayla rose quickly and tugged at him until he was standing. She yanked on his arm, but the man didn’t even sway.

  “No–no–shower.”

  “What?” Jayla swiped at her tears, confused by his uncooperativeness. “I don’t understand.” Here she was trying to help him and he stood there arguing and not budging.

  “No–not–frostbite,” he said softly. “Frostnip. Different–no–not–as–ba–bad.”

  “Not as bad?” Jayla hiccupped. “It looks as bad to me.” Damn it, she always took the hiccups when she bawled like a baby. “Frostnip?”

  Hiccup.

  “So you aren’t in danger of losing your toes, fingers or–or…anything…below the belt? Well, good. That’s good. Right?”

  Hiccup.

  He gave her a nasty smile. “Good–ye–yes. Freezing…” His voice trailed away on a hard shiver.

  “Maybe not so good after all.” She reached for the top button on his jeans. He yelped and wrapped his icy fingers wrapped around hers in a clumsy attempt to stop her from unfastening the metal button.

  She jumped.

  Well, that scared the hiccups right out of her.

  “Wha–what…are…you…do…doing?” His words sounded thick, choppy, his speech guttural and not a smidgen of improvement that she could hear.

  Jayla glanced up. “Undressing you? You can’t get warm in these clothes. Don’t look at me like that, cowboy. I’ve seen men’s packages before. I’ve seen yours if you recall. As a prospective…shopper of said package, you have nothing to be embarrassed about. When it comes to quantity, well, you’re the lead bull. I’ll reserve judgment on quality if you don’t mind, until I have firsthand knowledge.”

  A ghost of a smile flickered across his mouth. “You’ve…always…tri–tried…to…ge–get…in…ma–my…je–jeans.”

  “Damn right,” she said sharply. “And you always ran. You have to be the least cooperative man I ever tried to seduce. Once I catch you, don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.”

  The faint grin curving his lips quickly faded. “Wa–wasn’t…worried. Wa–wasn’t running, either. I–I walked fast, but I–I wasn’t running. I–I was wa–waiting for you to–to catch me.” He helped her skin off the jeans then flopped down onto the side of the bed.

  “Huh, couldn’t prove it by me.” Jayla tried not to let her anxiety show as Wild watched while she stripped off her T-shirt, sweat pants, and tossed them aside. He didn’t say anything, and she didn’t know which was worse, his utter silence or his short bursts of stuttering speech.

  It gave her hope his blood still pumped normally when she caught him eyeing her bosom. Her nerves jittered across her stomach leaving her feeling weak. He had to be the hardest man to read, to connect with, or maybe he just chose not to communicate with her. That was probably it. Most of the time his face was deadpan, making it impossible to determine what he was thinking. No figuring out what he was going to say either.

  She cleared her throat, a nervous habit she had sometimes. “I figure skin-to-skin is the best heater you can have right now.”

  He nodded and glanced away when she unhooked her bra and dropped it on top of the pile of clothes at her feet. Jayla helped him under the covers, quickly slid in the bed beside him, and snuggled close, spoon-fashion. She squeaked when his feet nudged her legs. God, his skin felt like he’d been buried under ice cubes. She rubbed his arms, his back, and his legs, pausing only when he moaned in agony.

  “It’s the blood flow increasing,” she assured him, then felt like her IQ dropped to the bottom of the meter because she was pretty sure he knew exactly what caused him so much pain. “I’m sorry. I talk too much when I’m scared. I know it must feel like a thousand needles sticking you at once. It’ll pass in a little bit,” she whispered.

  Lord she hoped it stopped hurting him soon. His body shook the soft whimpers he made ripped at her heart. Fighting not to cry, she slid an arm around his lean waist and rested her face against his back.

  “The pain will pass,” she said again, a slight ache in her voice. Sudden memories haunted her, reminding her just how long it sometimes took for pain to go away. She blinked away the tears that wet her eyes. “It always passes…doesn’t it?”

  Wild linked his icy fingers with hers and held them against his washboard-hard stomach.

  “Yeah, it–it always pa-passes…eventually.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story inside you.

  ~ Maya Angelou

  Montana

  West side of Dancing Star

  February 21, Saturday

  12:30 a.m.

  Curved up against Wild, Jayla closed her eyes and tried to sleep. Even though her eyelids felt weighted, her brain hadn’t received the same signal. Too many memories hung around to haunt her. Besides, her shoulder throbbed and lacking any kind of pain meds other than aspirin―which she knew she probably shouldn’t take because it’d thin her blood―she couldn’t get comfortable enough to fall asleep.

  Lying next to the man she loved was something she’d dreamed about for years, but never thought would happen. All of a sudden, she felt weepy. Damn this compulsion to cry every five minutes. It was driving her batty. It was one of the things she hated about being pregnant, the sudden urges to weep the entire nine months, at least that’s the way it’d been during her last pregnancy.

  Her last pregnancy.

  She hadn’t thought about that in a long time or about…

  Damn hormones! She blinked. She wasn’t going to think about any of that right now. She wanted to think about the man she lay pressed tight against and try to figure out a way to make him love her as much as she loved him.

  She had to accept the fact Wild might never love her, but that was okay. Before she died, she now had this sweet memory of how it felt to lie next to him, listen to him breathe, stroke his body, feel the way his muscles rippled beneath her touch, and touch his hair.

  He held her hands in his palms, as if, even in his sleep, he made certain she couldn’t touch places he didn’t want her touching. He’d never trust her, no matter what she said nor did, he’d never believe in her.

  Deep inside, a raw ache settled around her heart. No wonder she felt like a dam about to burst. Double damn hormones!

  If she could turn time back she’d return to that summer day beside the creek where it all began and she’d tell Wild exactly how she felt about him. Yes, she’d been young, yes, he most likely would still have walked away, but he’d walk away knowing she loved him. He’d u
nderstand that only something major could force her to tell lies about him.

  But no amount of wishing would change or fix things now.

  If she’d known what was going to happen, she never would have let Wild go that day. She wouldn’t have stood there crying, too timid to run after him. At least then, she wouldn’t have been left behind, vulnerable to what followed.

  That day would forever trouble her. Still, it was what made her the woman she was today, a bit reckless, reacting before thinking, and a lot headstrong, a woman pushed beyond endurance, but still a winner.

  It made her a survivor, one who was willing to claw her way up out of the sewers and fight for what she wanted. Be damned if she’d just lie down and die for Kane Masters. If he wanted her dead—and there was no doubt about that—then the sonofabitch was going to discover she wasn’t a willing victim. Not anymore.

  Looking back to that summer day when her life had changed, she couldn’t believe how naïve she’d been—a young girl on the brink of womanhood. She’d wanted to bask in the sun. Finding Wild there at the creek had been an unexpected bonus.

  If she closed her eyes and remained still, she could feel the warm breeze on her face, smell the earth, the heat that ravaged her body, the tender yearning she’d felt for the tall, lanky cowboy with eyes such an intense blue they reminded her of Texas Bluebonnets.

  Just one glance from his fierce blue eyes had always sent shivers of desire racing up her spine, when he bothered to notice her. She believed he knew exactly what she thought every time he caught her watching him those long ago summer days.

  Jayla sighed and closed her eyes again, but instead of sleep, that single moment in time rushed toward her. She saw and remembered every little detail…

  * * * *

  Seven years earlier…

  Jayla halted the dainty pinto mare she rode astride of and hopped down. Leaving the horse standing underneath a massive pine in order to provide it some shade from the summer heat, Jayla picked her way through the overgrown meadow. She cut a path toward the rippling creek, keeping one eye out for Prairie Rattlers lying in wait in the tufts of grass.

  The scrawny pines and thick undergrowth offered privacy. In the distance, scarlet-colored Indian paintbrush spread like a vibrant blanket across the rippling sea of tall prairie grasslands. Mingling in every hidey-hole of extra space, yellow, red, purple, pink, and blue lupines sprang up like plumes of multi-colored smoke. Jayla paused to sniff the air, savoring the delightful fragrances.

  The distinct, crispy sound of water rippling over rocks lured on a hot summer day. Her body, sticky and clammy from the ride, she couldn’t wait to wade in. It was a perfect day for a swim to cool off. Touching the drop of sweat sliding between her breasts, Jayla was glad she’d left her shirt at home and opted for the red bikini top instead. The skimpy bottoms hugged her butt inside the ragged cutoff jeans. She couldn’t wait to shed the hot denim.

  Jayla spread the old blanket she’d fished out of the closet on the ground beneath the tall pine tree a few feet from the mare. She planned to read after her swim, and maybe even nap. It was too hot to do anything more strenuous, besides, she felt lazy, relaxed, and slightly bored.

  The only pleasure she got out of spending time in Montana at her stepfather’s ranch, was the fact that a particular cute cowboy lived at the neighboring ranch a few miles away. During social gatherings, she grabbed a glass of lemonade and secretly adored Wild Remington from afar.

  Being fifteen made her too young for the twenty-one year-old, but that didn’t stop her from seriously crushing on him. One day she’d grow up, until then, she watched him from afar—and dreamed. Her heart always pounded and a strange heat settled low in her belly every time she saw him. She didn’t know what any of this meant, she just knew she liked looking at the cute cowboy.

  Jayla hadn’t expected anyone else to be at the creek, but oh my God, there he was, the love of her life. Her young heart speeded up. Wild. How could she have such a crush on him and he not know she was alive?

  He never looked her way at all those barbeques, never danced with her, rarely spoke to her. Today was a chance to change all that.

  Stilling, she watched him rise out of the waist-deep water, gloriously naked. Her heart did a double flip. Her hands started to sweat. She thought she’d pee her pants right then and there. The majestic sight of his long, lean body snatched her breath away. It caused her young heart to race faster than a runaway mustang galloping across the prairie. Her eyes feasted on him. The teenage crush she’d carried around for months, turned into something else—a hungry beast.

  Up until that day, admiring the sexy cowboy from afar had been simple girlish fun, but now, man-oh-man, she got a look at the entire package. There was nothing girlish about her feelings for him.

  At the time, she’d been a little too innocent to appreciate the twin nuggets or the width and length of what jutted proudly above them. Her eyes worshipped the golden walnut color of his suntanned skin, the way his dark hair fell a bit shaggy around his ears, the defiant little curl that persisted in falling across his forehead no matter how many times he brushed it aside.

  He’d been twenty-one—still growing into the man he was today. She’d been young and stupid, but her body quickened with a need that both shocked and frightened her. Her fingers itched to touch, to stroke every hard bone and lean muscle that rippled in the sunlight.

  She’d barely glanced at what made him a male. There’d simply been too many other things to admire, his lean jaw with a shadow of dark whiskers, a smooth chest, wide and muscular, an arrow of dark hair that shot straight down to what was surely—ahh, but the girl of fifteen had been interested in one thing only―to sample his mouth.

  Her first kiss—yes, God, she wanted Wild to be the first in everything she experimented with or experienced.

  Would those perfectly chiseled lips be soft or hard pressed against hers? Would they take or give pleasure? Her eagerness to learn fanned the flames inside her. The fire building low in her belly swept as out of control as a prairie fire.

  Where Wild was concerned, she’d been dying of curiosity all summer, too much so.

  Jayla barely gave him time to jerk on his jeans before, emboldened by her desire to touch him, and her ravenous curiosity to know what he tasted like, she charged out of the brush at him like a maddened heifer on crack.

  Startled, Wild glanced around, guarded. Honest to God, she swore he backed up a step. The look on his wary face might have been comical, if he hadn’t looked so taken aback to see her. He probably thought she was in attack mode. In a way, she supposed she was.

  “Jayla, what the hell are you doing here?” he croaked, reaching for his white T-shirt on a nearby bush. He yanked it over his head and took another step back.

  Filled with heartfelt emotions, she didn’t understand his wariness, and couldn’t think of a thing to say. Jayla figured actions spoke louder than words. The surprise on his face when she grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed her mouth against his didn’t register at first. Not until he pulled away from her and stumbled back two or three steps did she realize he no longer looked dazed, but instead, glared at her, furious.

  He swiped a hand across his mouth as if wiping the taste of her lips from his. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, little girl?”

  “Kissing you. Don’t you wanna kiss me back?” she teased, sticking her thumb tips in her front pockets.

  “Hell, no!” He voiced the words, but his look told an entirely different story. Raw with something hot and elemental, a hunger she didn’t understand at the time, he eyed her long, tanned legs. His gaze crawled past her thighs, lingered for seconds on her bellybutton, then paused on her breasts behind the red bikini top.

  She swore she saw fire there in the fierce blue depths of his eyes, but she was wrong, because he grabbed her upper arms, twisted her around and swatted her rear with his hand. “Git on home now, go on, before I take you across my knee and blister your backside. I see you s
nooping ‘round here again, spying on me, I’ll have a talk with your parents.”

  Angry and humiliated, and unable to believe he rejected her kiss, tears filled her eyes. She whirled to face him and raked her nails across his face.

  “Ouch!” Wild dabbed at the scratches. “Why the hell did you do that?”

  “I’m not a little girl,” she shouted. “Don’t treat me like one.”

  “Yeah, you are. Go home. You have no business on Star land or watching me swim naked.”

  Her young heart had been crushed, her pride trampled beneath his uncaring boot heels. He left her standing there, alone, defenseless, crying, and he hadn’t bothered to look back when he climbed on his horse and rode away.

  She knew in her heart she’d blown the only chance she ever had at making Wild fall in love with her. But he damn well knew who she was now. She doubted he’d ever forget this day. He wouldn’t make the mistake of calling her a little girl again.

  Jayla snapped out of the hurtful memories and sighed in the darkness. If only he’d looked back that day, just once. Maybe he would have seen…

  But he hadn’t.

  That fateful afternoon tainted the course of her life, as well as altering Wild’s.

  Her heart ached.

  Neither of them deserved what happened.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Love, like a river, will cut a new path whenever it meets an obstacle.

  ~ Crystal Middlemas

  Montana

  West side of Dancing Star

  February 21, Saturday

  2:30 a.m.

  For the second time, Jayla woke slowly, but this time to the sound of splashing water. Frowning, she stifled a yawn and blinked. Holy cow! She didn’t believe her eyes. Across the room, Wild stood near the old sofa table, bathing. He dipped a washcloth in a shallow pan of water, wrung it out and dragged it across his chest.