Wanton Desire

by Ruth D. Kerce

  Several hands ran out to meet them at the gated entrance. One of the men helped her down and the others took the buggy and Joe’s horse off to the barn. Joe grabbed her arm and they raced into the ranch house.

  He slammed the door behind them. They both stood in the entryway, shivering and soaking wet.

  “Myrah!” Joe called out.

  A plump elderly woman with graying hair rushed toward them with blankets in her hands. “I saw you two from the window. Goodness. You’re soaked to the bone. Get out of those clothes.”

  When Joe began pulling at his shirt, Emma sucked in a sharp breath.

  Myrah slapped him on the shoulder. “What’s wrong with you, Joe Jackson? Not in front of this lady. Take a blanket and go into the study. We’ll be in the parlor.”

  Emma looked over her shoulder at Joe as Myrah ushered her away. He gave her a large grin—the first since she’d arrived—before he turned his back and disappeared. Somehow that one look made her feel a lot less cold and caused a delightful tingle all the way down her body.

  “I take it you’re Miss Emma,” the woman said as she closed the parlor doors. “You just call me Myrah. I’ve been working for the mister and missus nearly a year now and I know everything about everything around here. So if you have any problems, you let me know. Now strip on down and I’ll fetch you and Mr. Joe some dry clothing.”

  As quickly as Myrah had appeared, she was gone. Emma couldn’t help but laugh and was surprised at how good it felt. How did she get herself into these situations? She felt like a soaked mutt. She probably looked like one too.

  So much for her dress—one of the few she actually owned. She’d only brought two casual ones with her, along with the fancier one she’d worn on the stage, wanting to look her best when she’d first arrived. In Boston, she normally wore a hospital uniform, except on Sundays when she took time off. She hardly believed how much her life had changed.

  She glanced around the parlor, feeling comfortable and settled in the familiar surroundings. She’d always loved the ranch house. She wondered how Myrah knew who she was since no one had been expecting her.

  She took off her dress and let it fall in a heap to the floor. She hesitated to take off her undergarments, but they were soaked too, so she stripped naked and wrapped herself in the blanket.

  A soft knock at the door drew her attention. She opened it a crack, expecting to see Myrah. “Joe!” He stood there with his hair dripping, no shirt, and a blanket wrapped low around his hips. No man had ever looked better.

  “Are you all right?” he asked her.

  “I’m fine, but we shouldn’t be talking like this. Myrah will be back any second.”

  He grinned. “Are you afraid Myrah might think we’re doing something improper?”

  “No, but I-I…” She couldn’t seem to catch her thoughts, not while he stood there practically naked. His chest, muscular and perfectly formed, made her itch to touch him. A small scar above one nipple caught her eye and her curiosity.

  Before she could ask him about it, he reached out and tucked some stray hair behind her ear. Then he lowered his hand and slowly traced the bare skin along the top of her breasts.

  “Improper can be…exciting,” he said in a low voice. “Remember?”

  Emma about swooned. Memories of her and Joe from the past flooded her mind. Yes, they had been improper a time or two. Not completely, of course, but enough to cause tongues to wag if they’d ever been caught. “I remember,” she whispered.

  She held the blanket more tightly around herself. This sensual man was the Joe she used to know, the one she’d fantasized about for the last two years. The one who could make her want him with one touch.

  “Mr. Joe, that better not be your butt I’m seeing at the parlor door,” a voice called down from the top of the stairs.

  He turned and looked up. “Nope. It’s not me, Myrah. Your eyes are playing tricks on you.”

  “You best not be there when I come down these steps or I’ll give you a whack upside your head.”

  Joe turned back to her. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.” His gaze dipped down to her breasts again and the grin on his face widened. Then he disappeared back into the study.

  Emma’s heartbeat refused to slow. Joe still had feelings for her. She knew he did. Otherwise he wouldn’t have come across to the parlor like that. Or touched her as he had. A few moments later, she moved aside to let Myrah enter. She took the dry clothes offered. Something of Skylar’s, no doubt.

  “That boy gives you any trouble, you point him in my direction. I’ll straighten him out right good.” She cocked her head. “You do talk, don’t you, girl?”

  “Um yes. Of course.”

  “Good. I was beginning to wonder. Now get dressed. Supper will be on in a bit. You’ll be staying the night.”

  “Wait.” Emma reached out before the woman left. “Staying the night? No.”

  “Child, that rain ain’t going nowhere anytime soon. You won’t be able to see farther than your nose until it lets up. You’ll be in the room you used when you stayed here before.”

  Emma’s thoughts raced. Staying the night? With Joe right down the hall? Or at least she assumed he’d be staying too. With everything that was going on, she hadn’t thought to ask if he still lived here, or if he had his own place now. “Joe will be staying too?” she asked, figuring it was easier to question Myrah than Joe.

  “Well, of course. Where’d you think he’d be going?”

  She made a noncommittal sound, barely able to hear her own thoughts over her pounding heart. “How do you know what room I used before?”

  “Like I said, I know everything about everything around here.”

  Before Emma could respond, Myrah was gone. That woman had an eerie quality to her. Not in a frightening way, but just different from most folks. Something in her obsidian-like eyes. Emma couldn’t quite figure it out. But she liked the woman a lot.

  Emma unwrapped the blanket from around herself, grateful for the dry garments. She hoped Skylar wouldn’t mind someone else wearing her things.

  “Darn it.” The chemise didn’t fit. She set it aside and pulled on the white petticoat, then the pretty blue dress she’d been given.

  The bodice of the dress was way too tight. Skylar’s breasts were a lot smaller than hers. She glanced down at herself and sighed. The dress made her look, well, more ample than she already was. But her options were limited. She’d have to make do. As she straightened the skirt of the dress, she heard a knock behind her. “Come in.”

  She heard one of the parlor doors open. Maybe Myrah could lend her a shawl to wear. She turned but froze when she realized it wasn’t Myrah in the room with her.

  Joe propped open both doors. “Myrah said she’d find—” He turned and stopped in mid-sentence when his gaze settled on her breasts.

  Emma felt her cheeks flush. “Find what?” she asked, ignoring the problem, since there wasn’t much she could do about it. Besides, she wasn’t exposed so much as to be indecent, though more skin showed than when she’d had the blanket around her.

  He hesitated a long, awkward moment before responding. “What?”

  “Find what?” she repeated. The man was acting as if he’d never seen a pair of breasts before. “Joe!”

  His head snapped up and their gazes locked. The look in his chocolaty eyes made her knees weak. Slowly he moved forward, one step at a time, as a hunter would do when stalking prey.

  She willed her feet to move but her body wasn’t having it. Instead she leaned against the back of the settee for support.

  Joe stopped directly in front of her. “Dessert,” he whispered.

  She gulped. “Dessert?”

  He nodded. “That’s what Myrah is going to find. In the cellar. A special dessert for us. She bakes a lot and keeps the ranch well supplied with sweets.”

  “Oh.”

  His gaze dipped down to her chest. “Nice dress.”

  “It’s a little small.”

 
“It’s perfect.” He traced the skin at the top of her dress with his finger. “Soft.”

  Every time he touched her like that her nipples hardened. By the smile on his face and where he was looking, she knew he had noticed the effect on her.

  Slowly, he reached up and loosened her bun, which was a wet mess from the downpour. Her hair fell down to the middle of her back. He combed the tangles out with his fingers, about driving her mad with his gentle, sensual touch. She felt the heat pouring off his body. She swayed toward him.

  Without a word, Joe leaned in toward her. His mouth swept down and covered hers. She grabbed the front of his shirt and hung on as his tongue teased the seam of her lips. She mewled and opened her mouth. One of his hands tightened in her hair. He slid his other arm around her waist and pulled her flush against his body. She could feel every inch of Joe’s hardness against her. His tongue stroked hers over and over, until she thought she’d faint.

  She melted into him, as she’d been yearning to do for so long now. Whatever he wanted from her, at this moment, she was more than willing to give him, for he made her feel more alive than she had felt in years.

  Suddenly he tore his mouth from hers and released her so quickly that she stumbled against the settee. He turned and stalked from the room.

  It took her a moment to recover from sensual overload and shock. She simply stood there staring. And feeling confused. What just happened?

  Once the flush of desire eased, she strode after him, following him into the dining room, which was already set for two. She stood with her hands on her hips as Joe pulled out a chair and sat down.

  He was angry. Why? She knew he’d enjoyed the kiss. She’d been pressed up against him tightly enough to feel his cock respond. So what was his problem? He didn’t even look up at her. His actions made no sense at all. “Did manners just fly out the window?”

  Grumbling under his breath, he kicked the chair to his left out from the large table, which sat ten.

  “What is wrong with you?” She stepped forward and curled her fingers around the top of the chair. When he didn’t respond, she huffed out a frustrated breath. “Maybe I should just leave.”

  “Sit down.”

  Myrah breezed in with a plate of greens, carrots and tomatoes in each hand and set them on the table. “Sit, child. Stew is coming right up. Hearty and warm. Perfect in weather such as this. And I’ll bring in some brandy. The menfolk normally save that for after supper in the study, or the parlor if the ladies join in, but we’ll make an exception tonight. It’ll warm you up right quick.”

  Emma was already heated—her body as well as her anger. Joe had taken care of that.

  “Oh my.” Myrah’s eyes widened. “That dress is a tad…small.”

  “Maybe there’s a shawl I could wear with it?”

  “It’s perfect,” Joe grumbled.

  Myrah smacked him on top of the head.

  He flinched. “Ow!”

  “I’ll find something appropriate for you, Miss Emma. Help the lady into her chair, Mr. Joe.”

  “She knows how to sit down by herself.”

  “Don’t you be giving me any of your attitude, boy.” She looked over at Emma. “He gets uppity sometimes.”

  Joe grunted.

  Emma took her seat and spread a napkin on her lap. After Myrah left, she looked over at Joe. “Well…”

  He looked back at her but didn’t say anything. He’d intended to keep his feelings toward her physical. But as always, Emma got into his head. Into his heart. When he’d kissed her, he’d wanted to hold on to her forever.

  Not being stronger aggravated him. He’d been hurt the first time she’d left. He’d be damned if he’d let her rip his heart out twice. He shoved a forkful of lettuce into his mouth. The taste made him cringe. Skylar’s menu. He preferred cornbread with stew.

  “So you’re not talking to me now? This is ridiculous. You’re the one who kissed me. And I didn’t push you away. So why are you acting like an ornery ass?”

  He choked on his food and swallowed hard. He wasn’t used to hearing Emma talk like that. “Maybe I am an ass,” he muttered, clanging his fork down on his plate. Just when he opened his mouth to comment further, Myrah returned with a bottle of brandy.

  “This is strong stuff, Miss Emma. Don’t drink too much. It tastes smooth going down, but packs a hard punch if you’re not used to liquor.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’ll be back with the stew in a minute.”

  Joe poured them both a glass of the dark liquid. He emptied his quickly and poured a second. Emma sipped hers, like a real lady. She probably couldn’t hold her liquor, he suspected.

  Maybe that was good. Getting her drunk had possibilities. But then he didn’t want her that way. He wanted her full senses on him when he fucked her. And he still intended to fuck her. Slow. Hard. And thoroughly. Until she was out of his system, once and for all.

  Myrah appeared again with a large covered bowl and set it in front of them. “Here we go. A nice big bowl of beef stew. Been simmering all afternoon. Should melt in your mouth. You can serve yourselves. I gotta get some stew out to the hands in the bunkhouse. I’ll serve the dessert in the parlor later and bring you a shawl, Miss Emma.”

  “Thank you.” After Myrah rushed from the room, Emma dished out portions for them both.

  They ate in silence, until Joe couldn’t take it anymore. Questions about her situation in Boston had been plaguing him for a long time now and he needed answers. “Tell me about this doctor who’s been helping you out in Boston.”

  “Dr. Mason?” Her eyes widened. “You know about that?”

  “Mason,” he mumbled. “Beth mentioned him.” He hadn’t been happy to hear that Emma had taken up with some doctor and was living with him and his family in their home. “Why was this doctor so eager to put up a stranger?” His eyes dipped down to her breasts. He pretty much had already figured it out. Married or not. Still, he wanted to hear her version. “How are you paying this Dr. Mason back?”

  “I get a small wage at the hospital for the work I do.”

  “Hmm. Only paying in money then?”

  She hesitated before answering and her body visibly stiffened. “Meaning?”

  He shrugged.

  “My eyes are up here, Joe. If you’re implying something, spit it out.”

  His gaze lifted to meet hers. “Just asking, since you have so much to barter with.”

  She plunked her fork down on the table. “You’re insufferable and an idiot.” She scraped her chair back and stood. “I don’t know what’s happened to you, Joe Jackson, but I don’t like it. And I don’t like you!” She hurried toward the front door.

  “Hell.” Joe pushed out of his chair and took off after her. For some reason, he couldn’t control his tongue these days. He caught her just as she flung open the door. The strong wind blew rain, twigs, and loose swirling dirt all over them.

  Emma screeched and Joe slammed the door. “You can’t go out in that.” He looked down at himself, then over at her. “We’re wet again.”

  “Which is a good excuse to call it a night.” She grabbed her skirt and stomped up the stairs. “I’ve never been more miserable in my life,” she said in a low voice, but loud enough for him to hear.

  “What about dessert?” he called up after her.

  “Eat it yourself. And I hope you choke.”

  Chapter Five

  Emma’s fingers shook as she changed into the nightclothes Myrah had left out for her. The material was the lightest green she’d ever seen, soft, beautiful and barely there. But even the loveliness of the gown wasn’t enough to lift her spirits.

  This whole trip had been a mistake. She should have simply hired a lawyer to settle her father’s property and accounts for her. Or even let the town’s banker do it for a fee.

  But she’d so wanted to see her friends again, at least for a short while. She swiped away a tear that rolled down her cheek. “Damn you, Joe Jackson!”

  How
could he go from kissing her with enough passion to melt ice to treating her like some sort of-of… She shook her head, not able to come up with the right words in her head. Or rather, not willing to accept what he apparently thought of her. She couldn’t fathom him believing she’d barter her body for her education. His implication about her and Dr. Mason had been so insulting that she felt like pounding him.

  She wondered what he’d say if he knew that Dr. Mason was a woman. The hospital she was studying at, when not taking classes at Boston University, had been built exclusively for women and children—and was run by women. Dr. Mason and her husband, well into their sixties now, were the kindest people she’d ever met. Beth must have forgotten to pass along that bit of information.

  Emma had thought about throwing it in Joe’s face, but had been too upset to bother. She’d put him in his place in the morning, after she calmed down. Besides, with the way he was acting tonight, he’d probably just find something else to criticize her about.

  She didn’t understand him anymore. Physically, he kept pulling her toward him. But emotionally, he kept pushing her away and angering her. On purpose, or so it felt to her. He seemed determined to cause problems between them for some reason.

  She pulled on a plush, warm robe and belted it, then set Skylar’s moist garments in the corner for Myrah to launder later. If it wasn’t for the weather, she’d have been out of here tonight, back to the clinic in town and on the next stage out of New Mexico.

  Sniffling, she struggled to get herself under control. Then she remembered that she couldn’t leave Elk Valley. She had to wait to hear back from Beth. She might be needed in Santa Fe. Besides, there were no stages headed back East or anywhere else for that matter. Not for who knew how long. “Dang it.”

  A light knock sounded at the door. She instantly stiffened.

  “Emma?”

  She didn’t want to talk to him. “Go away!” She saw the knob jiggle and was thankful she’d locked it before changing.