Breaking Bailey's Rules

by Brenda Jackson

  “Bailey?” he called out softly when he heard a sound from somewhere in the room.

  “She’s not here, Walker,” a deep masculine voice said.

  He didn’t have to wonder who that voice belonged to. “Doc Witherspoon?”

  “Who else? I only get to see you these days when you get banged up.”

  Walker shook his head, disagreeing. “I never get banged up.”

  “You did this time. Story has it that bear would have eaten you alive if that little lady hadn’t saved you.”

  The doctor’s words suddenly made Walker remember what he’d said earlier. “Bailey’s not here? Where is she?”

  “She left for the airport.”

  Airport? Bailey was returning to Denver already? “How long have I been out, Doc?” he asked. A lot of stuff seemed fuzzy in his mind.

  “Off and on close to forty-eight hours. Mainly because I gave you enough pain pills to down an elephant. Bailey thought it was best. You needed your rest. On top of all that, you were an unruly patient.”

  Who cared what Bailey thought when she wasn’t there? He then replayed in his mind every detail of that day with the bear. “How’s Marcus?”

  “I treated him for shock but he’s fine now. And since he’s a ladies’ man, he’s had plenty of women parading in and out of his place pretending to be nurses.”

  Walker nodded, trying to dismiss the miserable feelings flooding through when he thought about Bailey being gone. She’d told him she was returning to Denver within forty-eight hours, so what had he expected? Besides, hadn’t he wanted her gone? Hadn’t he told her she wasn’t welcome? So why was he suddenly feeling so disheartened? Must be the medication messing with his mind.

  “You have a nasty cut to the leg, Walker. Went real deep. You lost a lot of blood and I had to put in stitches. You’ve got several bruised ribs but nothing’s broken. If you stay off that leg as much as possible and follow my orders, you’ll be as good as new in another week or so. I’ll be back to check on you again in a few days.”

  “Whatever.” Walker knew Doc Witherspoon would ignore his surly attitude; after all, he was the same man who’d brought Walker into the world.

  Walker closed his eyes. He wasn’t sure how long he slept, but when he opened his eyes some time later, it was a feminine scent that awakened him. Being careful not to move his leg, he shifted his head and saw Bailey sitting in the chair by the bed reading a book. He blinked to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d dreamed of her since leaving Denver. But never had he dreamed of her sitting by the bed. In all his dreams she had been in the bed with him.

  He blinked again and when she still sat there, he figured it was the real thing. “Doc said you left for the airport.”

  She glanced over at him and their gazes held. Ripples of awareness flooded through him. Why was her very presence in his room filling every inch of space within it? And why did he want her out of that chair and closer to the bed? Closer to him?

  She broke eye contact to brush off a piece of lint from her shirt. “I did leave for the airport. Their twenty-four hours were up and I hadn’t gotten my luggage.”

  “You went to the airport to get your luggage?”

  “Yes.”

  He couldn’t explain the relief that raced through him. At the moment he didn’t want to explain it. He felt exhausted and was in too much pain to think clearly. “I thought you were on your way back to Denver.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you.”

  He drew in a deep breath. She’d misunderstood and was assuming things again. Instead of telling her how wrong she was, he asked, “Well, did you get your luggage?”

  “Yes. They’d found it, but were taking their time bringing it here. I guess I wasn’t at the top of their priority list.”

  He bet they wished they hadn’t made that mistake. She’d probably given them hell.

  “You want something to eat?” she asked him. “There’s plenty of bison stew left.”

  Walker was glad because he was hungry and remembered he’d been cooking the stew when he’d gotten the call about Marcus. “Yes. Thanks.”

  “I’ll be right back.”

  He watched Bailey get out of the chair and place the book aside before heading for the door. He couldn’t help but appreciate the shape of her backside in sweats. At least his attention to physical details hadn’t lessened any. He brought his hand to his jaw and realized he needed to trim his beard.

  When Bailey pulled the door shut behind her, Walker closed his eyes and again remembered in full detail everything that had happened down by the shack. The one thing that stuck out in his mind above everything else was the fact that Bailey Westmoreland had saved his life.

  * * *

  “Yes, Walker is fine just bruised and he had to get stiches in his leg,” she said to Ramsey on the phone. “I hated killing that bear but it was him or Walker. He was big and a mean one.”

  “You did what you had to do, Bay. I’m sure Walker appreciated you being there.”

  “Maybe. Doesn’t matter now, though. He’s confined to bed and needs help. The doctor wants him to stay off his leg as much as possible. That means I need to tell Chloe and Lucia that I’ll need a few more days off. Possibly another week.”

  “Well, you’re in luck because Lucia is here, so I’ll let you speak to both her and Chloe. You take care of yourself.”

  “Thanks, I will. I miss everyone.”

  “And we miss you. But it’s nice to have you gone for a while,” he teased.

  “Whatever,” she said, grinning, knowing he was joking. She was certain every member of her family missed her as much as she missed them.

  A short while later she hung up. Chloe and Lucia had understood the situation and told her to take all the time she needed to care for Walker. She appreciated that.

  Drawing in a deep breath, she glanced around the kitchen. Over the past three days she had become pretty familiar with it. She knew where all the cooking equipment was located and had found a recipe book that had once belonged to Walker’s grandmother. There was a family photo album located in one of the cabinets. She’d smiled at the pictures of Walker’s family, people she figured were his parents and grandparents. But nowhere in the album did she find any of his wedding pictures or photographs of his wife and child.

  She looked out the window. It was snowing hard outside and had been for the past two days. She had met all the men who worked on Walker’s ranch. They had dropped by and introduced themselves and told her they would take care of everything for their boss. News of her encounter with the bear had spread and a lot of the men stared at her in amazement. She found them to be a nice group of guys. A number of them had worked on the ranch when Walker’s father was alive. She could tell from the way they’d inquired about Walker’s well-being that they were very fond of him and deeply loyal.

  She snorted at the thought of that. They evidently knew a different Walker from the one she’d gotten to know. Due to all the medication the doctor had given him, he slept most of the time, which was good. And he refused to let her assist him to the bathroom or in taking his baths. Doctor Witherspoon had warned him about getting the stitches wet and about staying off his leg as much as possible, so at least he was taking that advice. One of his men had dropped off crutches for him to use, and he was using them, as well.

  Snow was coming down even worse now and everything was covered with a white blanket. The men had made sure there was plenty of wood for the fireplace and she had checked and found the freezer and pantry well stocked, so there was nothing for her to do but take things one day at a time while waiting for Walker to get better.

  Garth had called for Walker and she’d told him what had happened. He’d left his number and told her to call if she needed anything or if Walker continued to give her trouble. L
ike she’d told Garth, Walker had pretty much slept for the past three days. When he was awake, other than delivering his meals and making sure he took his medication, she mostly left him alone.

  But not today. His bedroom was dark and dreary and although the outside was barely any better, she intended to go into his room and open the curtains. And she intended for him to get out of bed and sit in a chair long enough for her to change the linens.

  According to Garth, Walker had a housekeeper, an older woman by the name of Lola Albright, who came in each week, no matter how ugly the weather got outside. She had located Ms. Albright’s phone number in the kitchen drawer and called to advise her that she need not come this week. Somehow, but not surprisingly, the woman had already heard what happened. After complimenting Bailey for her skill with a gun, she had thanked Bailey for calling and told her if she needed anything to let her know. Ms. Albright and her husband were Walker’s closest neighbors and lived on a farm about ten miles away.

  Grabbing the tray with the bowl of chicken noodle soup that she’d cooked earlier, Bailey moved up the stairs to Walker’s bedroom. She opened the door and stopped, surprised to see him already out of bed and sitting in the chair.

  The first thing she noticed was that he’d shaved. She couldn’t stop her gaze from roaming over his face while thinking about just how sexy he looked. He was as gorgeous without facial hair as he was with it. He had changed clothes and was looking like his former self. A part of her was grateful he was sitting up, but then another part of her was annoyed that he hadn’t asked for her assistance.

  “Lunchtime,” she said, moving into the room and putting the tray on a table beside his chair. She wanted to believe he said thanks, although it sounded more like a grunt. She moved across the room to open the curtains.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Without turning around, she continued opening the curtains. “I thought you might want to look outside.”

  “I want the curtains closed.”

  “Sorry, but now they’re open.” She turned back around and couldn’t help but shiver when she met his stare. His glare was more like it, but his bad mood didn’t bother her. After five brothers and a slew of male cousins she knew how to deal with a man who couldn’t have his way.

  “Glad you’re up. I need to change the linens,” she said, moving toward the bed.

  “Lola’s my housekeeper. She’s coming tomorrow and can do it then.”

  “I talked to Lola this morning and told her there was no need for her to come out in this weather. I can handle things while I’m here.”

  He didn’t say anything but she could tell by his scowl that he hadn’t liked that move. And speaking of moves, she felt his eyes on her with every move she made while changing the sheets. She could actually feel his gaze raking across her. When she finished and turned to look at him, his mouth was set in a hard, tight line.

  “You know, if you keep looking all mean and cranky, Walker, you might grow old looking that way.”

  His frown deepened. “No matter what you do, I won’t be changing my mind about the interview. So you’re wasting your time.”

  Drawing in a deep, angry breath, she moved across the room to stand in front of him. She leaned down a little to make sure her eyes were level with his. “You ungrateful bastard!”

  That was followed by a few more obscenities she hadn’t said since the last time Dillon had washed out her mouth with soap years ago. But Walker’s accusations had set her off. “Do you think that’s why I’m here? That I only killed that bear, hung around, put up with your crappy attitude just because I want an interview? Well, I’ve got news for you. I don’t want an interview from you. You’re no longer a viable candidate. Women are interested in men who are loners but decent, not loners who are angry and couldn’t recognize a kind deed if it bit them on the—”

  She hadn’t expected him to tug on a lock of her hair and capture her mouth. She hadn’t expected him to kiss her with a hunger that sent desire raging through her, flooding her with memories of the night they’d parked in her truck at Bailey’s Bay.

  Convincing herself she was only letting him have his way with her mouth because she didn’t want to move and hurt his leg, she found herself returning the kiss, moaning when his tongue began doing all kinds of delicious things to hers.

  They were things she had dreamed about, and craved—but only with him. She could admit that at night, in the guest room, in that lonely bed, she had thought of him, although she hadn’t wanted to do so. And since all she had were memories, she had recalled how he had licked a slow, wet trail from her mouth to her breasts and then lower.

  Her thoughts were snatched back to the present when she felt Walker ease up her skirt and softly skim her inner thighs. His fingers slipped beneath the elastic of her panties before sliding inside her.

  She shuddered and his finger moved deeper, pushing her over the edge. She wanted to pull back but couldn’t. Instead, she followed his lead and intensified the kiss while his fingers did scandalous things.

  Then he released her mouth to whisper against her wet lips, “Come for me again, Bailey.”

  As if his request was a sensual command her body had to obey, ragged heat rolled in her stomach as her pulse throbbed and her blood roared through her veins. Her body exploded, every nerve ending igniting with an intensity that terrified her. This time was more powerful than the last, and she had no willpower to stop the moan released from her lips. No willpower to stop spreading her thighs wider and arching her mouth closer to once again be taken.

  * * *

  That was when Walker placed his mouth over Bailey’s again, kissing her with no restraint. He deepened the kiss, pushing his fingers even farther inside her. He loved the sounds she made when she climaxed; he loved knowing he was the one to make it happen. And he intended to make it happen all over again. Moments later, when she shuddered and groaned into his mouth, he knew he had succeeded.

  She grabbed his shoulders, and he didn’t flinch when she dug her fingers into his skin. Nor did he flinch when she placed pressure on his tongue. He merely retaliated by sucking harder on hers.

  He had been hungry for her taste for days. Each time she had entered his bedroom, he had hated lying flat on his back, not being able to do the one thing he’d wanted to do—kiss her in a way that was as raw as he felt.

  Most of the time he’d feigned sleep, but through heavy-lidded eyes he had watched her, studied her and longed for her. He’d known each and every time she had walked around his room, cursing under her breath about his foul mood, using profanity he’d never heard before. He had laid there as his ears burned, pretending to sleep as she called him every nasty name in the book for being so difficult and pigheaded.

  He’d also known when she’d calmed down enough to sit quietly in the chair by his bed to read, or softly hum while flipping through one of his wildlife magazines. And he would never forget the day she had worn a sweater and a pair of leggings. She had stretched up to put something away on one of the top shelves in his room and caused his entire body to harden in desire watching her graceful movements. And the outlines of her curves covered by those leggings... His need for her had flowed through him like a potent drug, more intoxicating than the medication Doc Witherspoon had him taking. Knowing she was off-limits, because he had decided it had to be so, had only sharpened his less-than-desirable attitude.

  But today had been different. He had awakened with his raging hormones totally out of control. He’d felt better and had wanted to clean himself up, move around and wait for her. He hadn’t anticipated kissing her but he was glad he had.

  There were multiple layers to Bailey Westmoreland, layers he wanted to unpeel one at a time. The anticipation was almost killing him.

  Growling low in his throat, he slowly pulled his mouth away and pulled his fingers from inside her. Then,
as she watched, he brought those same fingers to his lips and licked them in slow, greedy movements.

  He held her gaze, tempted to take possession of her mouth again. Instead, he whispered, “Thank you for saving my life, Bailey.”

  He could tell his words of thanks had surprised her. Little did she know she would be in for a few more surprises before she left his ranch to return to Denver.

  “And thank you for letting me savor you,” he whispered. “To have such a filthy mouth, you have a very delicious taste.”

  And he meant it. He loved the taste of her on his fingers. Bailey was a woman any man would want to possess. The good. The bad. And the ugly. And for some reason that he didn’t understand or could explain, he wanted that man to be him.

  With that thought planted firmly in his mind, he leaned close, captured her mouth with his and kissed her once again.

  Nine

  “What have you gotten yourself into, Bailey?” she asked herself a few days later while standing outside on Walker’s front porch.

  This was the first time the weather had improved enough for her to be outside. As far as she could see, snow covered everything. It had seemed to her that it hadn’t been snowflakes falling for the past several days but ice chips. The force of them had hit the roof, the windowpanes and blanketed the grounds.

  Yesterday, Josette told her a bad snowstorm had hit Denver and threatened to close the airport. Bailey had endured Denver’s snowstorms all her life, but what she’d experienced over the past few days here in Alaska was far worse. Even though parts of this place reminded her of Denver, looking out at the Strait from her bedroom window meant she saw huge glaciers instead of mountains. And one of the ponds on Walker’s property had been a solid block of ice since she’d arrived.

  Wrapping her hands around the mug of coffee she held in her hand, she took a sip. Would her question to herself ever be answered? Was there even an answer? All she knew was that she had to leave this place and return home before...