The Horseman's Heritage

by Jacki Bentley

Just great. It annoyed him that she hadn't needed his help to start the fire. He supposed he'd had some vague plan to put her off balance by organizing a primitive honeymoon, having her spend a few days alone with him in this old house. With only his manliness to take care of her. He laughed.

  As far as he could tell, he was the one put off-center tonight by the situation. Damn, he kept remembering that playful bite on his lip. His aching body reacting accordingly.

  She watched him speculatively, looking as comfortable as a clam, all wrapped in his coat, her legs crossed and sitting about six inches from the glowing fireplace.

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  Chapter Twenty Three

  Ashley sensed Reese's brooding eyes on her and turned to see him.

  Hmmm. The Big Bad Wolf returned, still fuming. Heavens the heat in his eyes scorched her.

  "I'll go to the kitchen and find something to eat.” He strode off again.

  He was too cute without his jacket on. She saw the muscle definition on his shoulders through the cloth as he exited the door. She watched until he was out of sight.

  This was not the normal way to start a marriage. But then things between them had never been so lukewarm as to be designated normal.

  She thought back to their first time they'd made love.

  Neither had planned to progress to a physical expression of their attraction so rapidly, in a storm of sensation so fast and hot it took both of them into a dazed state of shock.

  It struck her as unexpected she'd remember the first time they made love today. And the days and events that led to it. She allowed the memories to float around her like the warmth from the fire's flames. The memories began at their first parting, just after the seminar.

  She'd driven them back to the airport. Construction on the interstate made travel slow. They'd talked of everything and nothing. Ashley's heart hadn't wanted him to leave her.

  Their time together had been so short, a happy few days out of time. They'd been cocooned in the fair-like, otherworld atmosphere of The Quarter Horse Congress. They'd gone everywhere together. He'd taken her to the music concerts, the trade fair, all the shops and even the horse sale.

  He'd had friends from Texas competing in the cutting horse division and they watched several rounds. Ashley had taken to the sport right away. She loved to see the enthusiasm of the horses as they controlled the cattle with imperceptible signals from their riders. She'd enjoyed the live Western country music, used to settle each new herd of cattle.

  Reese and she had been inseparable those few days, each absorbed in the other's company. During those magical days, she'd cautioned herself that it was really only circumstances out of time bringing them together. That she shouldn't read too much into the sensual look in his eyes, the hot, sweeping gazes that burned through her body, awakening feelings of femininity she'd never before experienced.

  She'd told herself the man could have any woman he wanted. The interested glances he received from other women in the few short days they had spent together reinforced the feeling.

  Ashley had resented those admiring glances, even though she hadn't felt he was hers to defend or keep. But she'd pretended he was hers, telling herself all the while not to take her fantasies to heart.

  Amazingly, Reese hadn't seemed to notice the other women. He'd made no moves to feed those interested glances.

  She smiled.

  She'd let her own interest show. And he'd seen.

  She sighed, remembering.

  Nothing had prepared her for the strength of her attraction to Reese, an attraction so strong it rocked the foundation of her being and shifted her away from everything familiar. She'd felt the tall horseman had been off-balance, too. He'd looked at her with surprise and she thought a little wariness at times. As though he was working through an intriguing puzzle and didn't quite know where to begin to fit the pieces.

  Despite the traffic on the way to the airport that day, they'd been a half an hour early for his flight and had used the time to talk as though they were starved for information about the other. When his flight was called—all too soon—she'd struggled to keep from begging him to stay.

  Reese had looked as though he were in the grips of an inner struggle, as well. But he'd walked away from her.

  She'd stood watching the plane until it was a dot in the sky, watching and wishing she'd had the courage to ask him to take her with him.

  After that, she didn't hear from him for three long weeks.

  And then she received an airline ticket to Houston and a terse, impersonal note demanding that she meet him there.

  Without thinking it through, she'd flown to him. She grinned. During that visit she encountered the stubborn side of the man. The arrogant male had assumed she was there to stay forever. He hadn't taken the knowledge she intended to return Sunday evening well.

  Perhaps things would have been different if the physical side of their relationship hadn't hit them with such sudden force. If their loving had been more gradual in evolving.

  But it hadn't been calm and it hadn't been peaceful.

  It had been a torrent of need

  A star shower of beauty.

  She smiled at the memory of her first taste of love under a warm Texas sun.

  Returning from the kitchen, Reese wondered what Ashley smiled so secretively about. “What are you thinking of,” he asked.

  "My first visit to Texas."

  "Hmmm.” He didn't know what to say to that, but he was pleased out of all proportion.

  He remembered their first separation. Of turning at the plane's loading bridge and seeing her standing by the terminal's window glass watching him go.

  An uninterested woman would've gone on about her business by now, he'd realized happily. And he felt the same. He couldn't explain it, but he had felt as though he were leaving a chunk of himself in that airport gate.

  And he'd felt a surge of deep sadness, all mixed with guilt. A feeling he'd somehow betrayed his lost wife and son.

  God.

  He hadn't taken time to grieve before Ashley came to him. Not the kind of guy to indulge in the sadness and pain, he'd lost himself in his work. There were always so many details with the horses. Feeding, cleaning the barns, vet visits, breeding season and foaling season, demanding his attention, his complete focus. Managing a working ranch was more than a full time job. And it had damn well saved his sanity.

  But his compulsion for Ashley was another matter and proved stronger than the ranch, then as now—always would be—and that frightened the living hell out of him. Made him act like a fool.

  A part of him had been running that day when he had gotten on that plane for Texas. The dark, troubled side of him that felt threatened by the earth-moving pull of the beautiful woman he'd just met.

  Three long weeks after that first plane ride home after meeting her, he'd sent a message inviting her to join him in Texas. He'd worked like hell to free up a couple of weeks for a honeymoon with her.

  She had come to him. But she'd had other ideas on the subject of marriage. She'd even insisted on paying for the ticket he'd sent her.

  He smiled as he remembered his first real encounter with his soft, fragile fawn's stubborn streak. The first indication she didn't really need his protection. That she'd always insist on being treated as an equal. It would've been hell of a lot easier on him if she'd been the soft, fragile creature that he first assumed.

  Life would have been simpler if Ashley had been willing to depend on him. Easier, but damned boring, he thought. He liked the storm in her eyes when she thought he was being too bossy.

  With a sudden, fierce, stab of feeling, he remembered the first time they made love. He'd taken her on a tour of the ranch. She didn't know how to ride then, so he'd left off his saddle and put her on in front of him.

  He could still feel the imprint of her slender, sexy body against his, wrapped in his arms, and remember the sweet floral scent of her. God knows he hadn't planned things to progress to hav
ing sex as fast as they had.

  He returned from his thoughts now, focusing on his wife as she sat before the warm fire.

  She looked as lost in her thoughts as he.

  He hadn't planned to seduce her that day four years ago.

  God, she'd been so sweet, so full of flame and silk.

  Her skin had felt like powdered porcelain as he'd given in to the need to touch all of her with his hands, her breasts, her feminine folds. He'd known by instinct that the loving was new to her. But she'd been with him with every kiss, every touch, every burning moment.

  Reese shook off the memory with a great effort.

  Dangerous, dangerous thought path for a man who'd planned so carefully a controlled revenge consisting of no lovemaking tonight. His body ached with the memory.

  Not yet.

  Getting even had archaic appeal.

  His woman had mislead him, taken his child without his permission and withheld the knowledge from him. His conscience stabbed him with the reminder of the letters he'd thrown away in anger.

  She deserved reprisal, he told himself.

  Ashley watched Reese stand there, leaning on the doorframe. She noticed the storm clouds of emotion crossing his handsome face and wondered why he scowled at her so. His glare drew her from the warmth of her memories to the present, even though she found she wasn't ready to leave the time when there were no huge problems between them.

  She would ask.

  "You're looking very arrogant ... and superior, know-it-all, male."

  "I don't mean to do so."

  "Hmm,” she said, noncommittally.

  "Do you remember our first time together, Ashley?"

  As he asked the question, his eyes dared her to say she didn't remember the day and every nuance of it. She nodded. The anger between them right now couldn't dim the perfection of that day four years ago.

  "Of course I do,” she said, simply. She saw no reason to deny the memory was there. The lingering mists of day still clung to her thoughts from her recent thoughts.

  "You were so soft and full of fire.” He paused and searched her face. “Men have killed for less in a woman, Ashley Caldwell."

  Ashley sucked in a breath, surprised by the depth of feeling in his stark words. She felt the timbre of his voice to her toes.

  Four years ago, she'd thought his primary feeling had been regret after they made love. With no words to go on, she'd assumed it had been more earth shattering for her than for him.

  "You were so sweet and trusting.” He moved closer, came down beside her and reached out and lifted a strand of her hair. “Your skin so smooth and feminine.” He smiled sadly. “I meant to court you slowly. Then we stopped that day to rest the horse."

  "Yes."

  "Nothing has ever been slow with us, Ashley...” he rasped, “...and not in the right damned order."

  "No, it hasn't.” She shook her head. So that was it, the explanation for the storm clouds. He was thinking of the child she'd deprived him of knowing. The child she'd given birth to out of the traditional order. She was sure that was the reason for the shards of anger in his eyes.

  He gave the strand of hair an almost imperceptible pull, a tug so light she was not sure of it.

  "Do you regret that day?” She needed to know if he resented the day Mandy had been conceived.

  "Never.” He answered fast. “I have some regrets in my life for damn sure, but that day is not one of them. We didn't plan it, but I did not regret it."

  Her open and innocent gaze told him that she didn't have a clue to the power she wielded over him, over his body, his soul.

  He smiled at her.

  "You don't know what you do to me, do you, wife?"

  Ashley leaned toward him and he read her need. Her hands slid up the muscles of his waist with greedy intent. Folding her in his arms, he let her know he really didn't want her to change her methods of seduction after all.

  His lips closed hers.

  He pushed the manly jacket from her shoulders and opened the delicate buttons of the blouse beneath it.

  Ashley stripped the shirt from him, caressing his shoulders with her fingers, digging into the flesh of his back as she went.

  "I want to see you,” he said, his voice rasping and low.

  "Yes,” she agreed, wanting the same—the simple joy of studying his masculine form.

  He looked at her body for long moments, the light of enjoyment in his eyes, then slowly he caressed her. His large hands slid over her.

  He moved his hand up to hold the weight of her breast. First right, then left. She closed her eyes as he stroked her. He took his time. Soon she shook with passion.

  "Reese,” she said, gasping for even breaths as his hands were followed by his open mouth. Ashley splayed her fingers through his black hair, holding him to her and stroking at the same time. Heavens, she loved the feel of his hair in her hands, she'd missed the right to touch him this way. Her hands molded his shoulders. Raising one of her legs along his larger coarser one, she drew him closer. Inch by inch, he obliged, covering her with his glorious weight.

  "You feel so wonderful, darlin'. Ready and willing for me?"

  "Yes."

  "Now?” he asked.

  "Oh, yes,” she whispered.

  "Reese why did you marry me?” She wanted words of love and reassurance. Their lovemaking had been so sweet but he had offered no words of love.

  He lifted his head and looked at her as though she had turned a shade of green. His eyes still held the glazed and far away look of unsated desire.

  "Why?” She prodded again, gently.

  Damn her, Reese, thought, she was trying to wring the soul from his body. His anger edged to the surface, breaking the illusion of trust and resolution brought by sexual desire.

  "To gain control of my child, of course,” he said, speaking the plain truth.

  Her small, startled gasp pierced his heart.

  Hell, he didn't want to hurt Ashley, but a part of him was human enough to enjoy the small taste of his desired revenge. For only a second, because all too soon, the pain in her eyes became his own, a vicious bone deep hurt. The memory of this tableau would no doubt be with him forever.

  "Where is Mandy, by the way?” she demanded, pulling away finding the tux jacket. “Where have you sent her? I want to speak to her, Reese. Now.” She sat up gathering the coat over her breasts.

  Reese knew his words had shaken her. Her thoughts were only of Mandy now. His revenge had hit home. He closed his eyes.

  He opened them again. “Ash...” he began, holding out a placating hand.

  "So you married me for some sort of twisted, twisted revenge?” She leapt to her feet, forgetting the tux.

  It was Reese's turn to gasp. He stared, mesmerized and fascinated. So much time had passed since they'd walked around freely nude with each other. She no longer seemed to notice the chill of the room.

  He grabbed his jacket and held it out to her, wanting to offer her warmth.

  She took it, only to throw it back at him, magnificent in her pride, her eyes flashing, her hair wild from his hands.

  Reese felt a surge of desire blaze through his body. “Come to bed with me, Ashley,” he ordered. “When you steal from the wolf you risk paying for it. One way or the other."

  "Hah! You arrogant bastard,” she hissed. “If the wolf in question offers his mate what she needs, she would not need to steal it."

  Unholy anger burned in Ashley's eyes. Reese was lost, because now he regretted all thoughts of retribution. What a stupid fool he'd been. He'd not learned a damn thing from four empty years without her. Goddamnit. There'd be no one but himself to blame if she kicked his ass out of her life again.

  He went after her in two long strides, caught her in his arms and took her to the bed.

  She fought him a moment. He just held her loosely in his arms, until her steely anger flashed to passion and she kissed him hard on the lips.

  "Beautiful, so beautiful,” he whispered, aching for
her, hard for her.

  "Reese, Reese,” she cried.

  "We never could finish a fight when there was a damned bed around.” He managed a wry smile around her soft, soft lips.

  He had to have her tonight. The half-starved look in her eyes insured it. So much for his resolve to make her wait a while.

  "This time humor me, lady,” he whispered. “Let's take it slow. No sweeping feminine hands that make me crazy and stop my breathing.” There was a pleading laced through the demanding statement. His wife missed the nuance of it. She looked up at him with large and puzzled eyes.

  Damn, he needed more time with her, time to regain her trust. Time he couldn't afford to waste on an idiotic attempt at emotional revenge.

  "We'll finish this fight later,” she promised just before her hands on his behind urged him to continue touching her.

  "I believe you."

  Ashley frowned, she found herself confused and more than slightly off-center. Reese looked at her as though she were in some way dangerous to him a moment before he smiled. He held her eyes and seemed about to say something, but then kissed her slowly, druggingly instead.

  At any rate, the hunger she felt for him to make her his wife in every way was also reflected in his gaze. The hurt and mistrust between them had kept them apart long enough. The truth about their child and the circumstances of her conception was out in the open now. Perhaps the angry husband could now be replaced by the lover. She would try to see to it. She loved him.

  This man would not marry her just for his child and no other reason, no matter what he claimed, she was sure of it. Almost sure of it. A sliver of doubt wedged its way into her thoughts and wilted some of her confidence.

  She pushed him back to the bed and sat astride his hips. Slowly, with excruciating effort, she impaled herself on his erection. He laughed a warm, masculine chuckle that went rumbling through her.

  When he stroked into her, she met him, thrilling to the feeling of strength and fullness he gave her as they fused as one, fitting perfectly. Just right.

  She cried out her joy and he strung stinging kisses across the delicate skin of her neck.

  "Hold me tight, Ashley,” he demanded.