“Shelby belongs with me, Mr. Spawn. I wouldn’t want you bothered any more than necessary.” Her voice was the same melodious tone, yet the coldness in her eyes was anything but harmonious.
Devin deposited the child in Megan’s arms. Her message was loud and clear. She took his words to heart.
He paced the floor in Reed’s bedroom, his room for the time being.
They were his sisters. His flesh and blood. Two tiny little girls. What did he know about raising girls? Not a damn thing.
He knew women. That’s all. More like how to pleasure them. Aside from that, he didn’t know a damn thing about them, either. Megan was a woman, experienced with kids. He couldn’t care for one without the other.
Frowning, Devin rubbed his jaw. Who said anything about caring for them? There was no call to be wasting time worrying over them.
“Ah, shit, I’m going to bed,” he grumbled, kicking off his boots.
Chapter 8
The aroma of potatoes and eggs frying woke Devin. Yawning, he stretched his limbs toward the four bedposts. It had been a long time since he’d actually slept in a real bed. No one except Cheri knew who he was. Her continued loyalty and silence would be well-rewarded in more than monetary gains. The threat of a bounty hunter tracking him to the ranch was slim. Last night he’d slept with both eyes closed.
His feet stuck out from under the sheet draped over his mid-section. He patted the comfy, yet firm mattress. There was plenty of room for three of him, with room to grow.
He grinned.
Obviously, his father knew the added benefits of a large, sturdy bed.
From the wedding picture his aunts had hung in his childhood room, Reed stood over six feet, not much taller than his mother did. Devin took after her, his aunts had always told him. Grace was a beautiful, well-built woman with dark, reddish-brown hair and eyes that lit up a room. She had a bold fire in her spirit that attracted Reed instantly, despite her unladylike height.
This custom bed must have been made for them. He sighed wearily, glancing at the empty space by his side. He wondered what the current Mrs. Spawn would look like lying naked by his side, the heat of her adorable little body warming his, innocent eyes darkened with arousal as she gazed up at him. He imagined her soft lips panting for breath, her sweet pussy slick and hot, ready for penetration as he moved over her and plunged his hard flesh into the tightness of her fragile body.
He groaned, staring at the sheet tented over his groin. Shit. He couldn’t go outside looking like this. For damn sure, he wasn’t about to act like a snot-nose kid and dirty the sheets, then have her wash them, knowing what he had done and not dare guess he was thinking of her when he did it.
His gaze turned upward to the straight pattern of nails holding up the ceiling. He thought of Big Grizzly, the bear that had nearly killed him. Much younger then, believing he was unrivaled, he’d left his rifle and holster near his campsite. The bear came out of nowhere before Devin picked up the danger signals Deuce gave off. Caught bathing in the stream, there was barely enough time to grab his dagger. Big Grizzly was dead, and he’d been mauled, left plumb naked, with hardly strength left to climb on Deuce before passing out. If it had not been for Deuce leading him to the Comanche widow of Ol’ John, and the Indian herbs and cures she applied to kill the infection, he would have died for sure.
* * * *
“Smells good.”
Megan and the girls turned at the same time toward the source of the deep, groggy voice that filled the great room. Her expression remained cool and level, but her body heated and stomach fluttered with arousing betrayal.
So what if he found time to bathe and shave? Revealed what she feared most, glorious features to go with those glorious silver eyes. Apparently, he also found time to go into town yesterday and come back fresh as a fiddle and smelling of cheap perfume.
“Devin,” Shelby said happily.
Emma gave the well-muscled form dressed in black a quick, dismissive glance before stuffing a fork full of scrambled eggs in her mouth.
Good for you, Megan praised Emma’s fortitude.
Shelby was easily swayed by a childish need for a male figure in her life, but not Emma, and Megan was no silly schoolchild. She knew exactly where the grieving son sought comfort for his loss. There was only one place in town that bought that florid perfume by the gallon.
Not only was he a lying, thieving, murdering scallywag, he was a cheating, womanizing, lily-livered pig who could rot in the infernal fires of eternal damnation for all she cared.
He ran a hand through his thick, auburn head of hair, stretching his shirt over his broad shoulders, and her heart sped up. She recalled the peephole at Jazelle’s. She would have given anything to have been there last night and steal a glimpse of those hard muscles forcing apart female legs, his massive cock poised to conquer. The thought caused her pussy to tighten in need. In the best interest of her sanity, she shifted her stare to the girls once more.
“Have a seat. I’ll fix you a plate.” She turned her back to him, her voice coming out unsuitably strained.
Feeling somewhat refreshed after a second night without waking every hour to check on Reed, she fought the urge to smile. So what if it had been a long while since a man walked out of that room in the morning seeking breakfast? Moreover, never a man rough around the edges. Confident from his shoulder-length hair slicked back to black boots polished to a high-shine, she had to admit he looked both sexy and dangerous.
What was she thinking? He was dangerous. A danger to her nerves, a danger to her already raw emotions, a danger to their future, not to mention a danger to her weak, traitorous body that possessed a mind of its own. A mind that wanted him, craved him on sight.
“Sit by me,” Shelby piped up excitedly.
From the corner of her eye, Megan watched him take a seat next to Shelby as she went to the sideboard for an extra plate. The sight of his tight, round rump made her feel both wanton and guilty for staring. A widow less than twenty-four hours, and already she lusted after another man—her stepson no less.
Had she no shame?
Of course not. She had been a married woman out by the river, and that hadn’t stopped her from spreading her legs. Hussy.
Once again, she gave in to lusty temptation and studied his every move. He looked down at Shelby, and then across the table at Emma. Poor Emma, Megan thought to herself as the little girl continued to quietly eat her food, pretending Devin didn’t exist. Megan knew all too well Emma waged a losing battle. Devin’s presence was too daunting, too overwhelming a physical force for anyone to dismiss.
“Sleep well?” he asked Shelby.
“Oh yes, I dreamt of stars and angels.”
His brow shot up, as if he was taken aback by her reply.
“Do you think Pawpaw will be here tonight?”
“Ask your sister.” He titled his head in Emma’s direction and managed a half-quirked smile. Megan noticed an amused glint in his gaze as she filled a cup with coffee.
Emma considered him a moment, turned up her nose, then simply replied, “Guess so, Shelby.” She went right on eating.
In one hand, Megan held his plate level with her waist, and in the other, she balanced a cup and saucer. He watched her approach the table, his silvery gaze intense and appreciative. Appreciative in the sense she was a woman, not that she was about to feed him. She noticed his eyes were focused about six inches above the plate heaped with eggs and potatoes.
“Oh, goodie, I can’t wait.” Shelby tugged on his sleeve, diverting his attention away from her once again.
Megan took a shallow breath of relief. Her insides melted from his mouth-watering proximity as she set his plate in front of him, along with the coffee cup and saucer.
“Will you help me find him tonight?” Shelby asked softly, her dark blue eyes full of hope. Megan watched tensely, hoping by some small miracle he would let her down gently. Both girls had already suffered enough disappointment in their lives without Devin Spaw
n adding to their misery.
“Sure,” he agreed loudly, as though he wanted to ensure Megan heard him.
Her body stiffened. That meant he was staying. Her pulse raced. She rounded the corner of the table, cautiously glancing at him. Beneath her lashes, she detected a faint grin curl the corners of his lush lips. Suddenly, she wanted to feel those soft lips on hers.
“Hope you like your coffee black. We seem to have run out of sugar.” Hastily, she resumed her seat next to the one Emma had vacated earlier. Seated across from him gave her a small degree of comfort, the wide table between them providing a false sense of security.
“We haven’t had sugar in a long time.” Shelby held out her two little arms wide to indicate the lengthy timeframe.
At times, Shelby was too honest. Megan frowned slightly. Devin was not the type to miss anything. In case of further inquiry, she hid behind her coffee cup as she took a hurried sip.
“I prefer cream.” His deep, male voice drew her and their eyes met across the table. A blush heated her cheeks as he pretended to wipe something from his bottom lip with his finger. The devilish move was meant to evoke memories of their riverside dalliance. Sexual intent glittered in his gaze.
Her unease was replaced by the memory of his finger moving inside her, sending a shocking flare of arousal rushing through her body. She blinked nervously. As though that minor effort could counter her heart pounding in her chest. Dear Lord, not even in front of the girls did the potency of his sexuality diminish.
“We don’t have cream, either,” Shelby offered matter-of-factly.
He broke eye contact with her and stared down at Shelby, as if annoyed by the childish interruption when evidently more mature matters filled his mind. “You have a cow, don’t you?”
Shelby nodded enthusiastically.
“Then you have cream.”
“Shelby, let him eat in peace.” Unable to cover the note of exasperation in her voice, she would just have to deal with it. Abruptly, she left the table. If he saw it as a pathetic attempt to escape him, so be it. She needed to flee and she didn’t care if he realized it or not. “Help Emma clear the table.”
Both girls jumped out of their seat and hurriedly did as requested.
Megan kept them busy cleaning the kitchen while he finished eating alone. She sent brave little Shelby to collect his dishes after he picked off the last bite of potatoes.
“Care for more coffee?” Megan asked calmly from a guarded distance across the room.
* * * *
Devin shook his head.
“I’m going into town. Need any supplies while I’m there?”
Last night he slept soundly for a change, deep enough to dream of moistened skin glistening in the moonlight lying on a blanket of green, dark blonde hair the color of honey splayed wantonly around a delicate oval face flushed with arousal, arms outstretched and legs parted in a silent plea. He’d awakened in the morning to envision her beside him in a big lonely bed only to sit across from her at the breakfast table surrounded by little girls wasn’t exactly what he expected or needed.
What he needed was to get as far away from her as possible.
He wanted to ride into town and find solace in the arms of Cheri, Pearl, and Violet. Who knew when he would return? At least the trip could be beneficial in more ways than one.
“No thanks,” she said dryly. Unexpectedly, he detected a slight stiffening of her shoulders as she rinsed soapsuds from the plate in her tense grip.
“But Megan, there’s lots of stuff we need,” Shelby offered helpfully.
Megan quickly shushed the little girl.
His gaze darted to Shelby, who pouted, and then narrowed on Megan. “Which is it, yes or no?” he asked Megan sternly, rising from the table. She was hiding something beyond her pride and disapproval of his unwarranted presence. There was no doubt it was just a matter of time before he found out what it was.
“Perhaps, we can use an item or two.” From the nervous glint in her eye, the admittance came under duress.
“Can I go with you to town?” Shelby ran to his side.
He looked down at the little girl and shifted his gaze toward the reserved Emma, drying the dishes next to Megan.
“Only if your sister joins us.”
Emma turned to face him.
He looked at her square in the eye, waiting for her expectant decline.
Her eyes widened with a surprisingly defiant glint.
“Oh, Emma, please,” Shelby shouted over and over again as she jumped up and down excitedly.
“Okay.” Emma’s innocent reply brought a happy shriek from Shelby, but he was positive the smug smile on her face was for his benefit alone.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. He didn’t think the little muskrat would say yes.
“Are you sure they won’t be too much trouble?” The worry straining Megan’s voice was palpable.
Hell, yes, they’ll be trouble, he wanted to yell. Looking down her nose at him, what she really meant to ask was “would that be wise?” Did she expect, him to corrupt the lil’ darlings in one afternoon? Maybe she thought he’d teach the girls how to shoot on the way into town, take what they needed without paying, or steal a few horses on the way home. His next words shocked even him. “Not at all.”
Soon, he would be kicking himself. He exhaled deeply. Shelby ran into her room cheerily to look for her sunbonnet. Emma followed primly, with her slender nose in the air.
Dammit. He really needed to visit Jazelle’s again. Asleep under the same roof and sitting across from hazel eyes, pretty pink lips, and pert little breasts was too much for his rejected libido to handle. Now, stopping at the saloon and drowning his frustration was out of the question. He cursed inwardly.
“Very well, I’ll make a list.”
He watched, burning to possess her, as she moved to her writing desk. Her tiny waist and the small curve of her hips and rounded bottom swayed enticingly. She was dressed in a faded brown muslin dress that looked like it was about to slide off her slender shoulders. It took all his control not to throw her on the table, rip that dreary dress from her body and sink between her trim legs.
“I’ll be outside.” His was voice rigid as he stalked into the bright morning sun, eager to breathe space unscented by females. Three of them: small, smaller and smallest. How did his father do it?
“Easy,” he muttered aloud. “He got to fuck small every night.” In a sudden fit of rage, he kicked at the dirt, sending a cloud of dust and rocks barreling into the barn wall with resounding clunks.
* * * *
Shelby and Emma kept him laughing on the trip home with stories about Megan’s arrival at the ranch, their lack of knowledge regarding the farm and cooking techniques. Their teacher’s attempt to teach the boys how to dance with girls was also amusing.
Not once could he remember when he’d laughed so hard. Aside from the stares and whispers from curious townsfolk, it wasn’t a bad trip after all, he concluded when they pulled up to the house, the wagon loaded down with supplies. Megan handed him a list with a few items. Thanks to mile-a-minute Shelby, the list grew while they were in town.
Shelby ran inside to show Megan her new rag doll. Emma followed, doing her best not to look just as excited about the new book she’d picked out. Considering her attitude from the get-go, Emma wasn’t such a bad kid after all. The kid had spunk. He had to admire her. Though she’d opened up a little, he knew she was holding back. She was a kindred spirit that only he could understand. There was more to the girl waiting to be unleashed—that is, if he took the time and decided to stay awhile.
He shook his head broodingly, leaving the small items on the porch. On his way back, he would carry those in the house for Megan. Leading the wagon to the barn in order to unload the larger supplies for the animals, he wondered about the money situation. The Spawn name had vast holdings in three Eastern banks that he knew of. Unless Reed was the type to squeeze a dollar until it bled, there was no reason for them to
do without a damn thing.
It wasn’t his place to question Reed’s financial habits he decided and pushed the matter aside. He began to unload the wagon. One more day, he reminded himself.
* * * *
“Mr. Spawn, may I have a word with you?” The censure in her voice several minutes later caught his attention, as she hoped it would. If not for a tiny stiffness in his bearing, Megan would have guessed otherwise, from his failure to acknowledge her with as much as a glance.
Without a reply, he continued to unload bags of oats from the wagon and pile them in a corner of the barn as she trailed behind.
“My concern is in regard to your purchases.”
As he tossed a sack on the growing pile, he rolled his eyes. Megan ignored his indifference and kept right on talking. “Much more than what was on the list. Are you extending your stay?”
He pulled a bag out of the wagon, pausing long enough to glare at her. She wasn’t about to cower. Throwing the bag over his shoulder, he stalked off. She followed a few hurried steps behind.
“Not that I have a right to refuse if you so choose. You see, herein lies my true concern.”
He walked faster.
She had to lift the front of her skirt above her ankles as she scurried to keep up with him. The hem of her oversized brown dress dragged in the dirt.
“The girls, you see, Mr. Spawn—Shelby and Emma.” She lied. She was eager to have him leave to preserve her sanity. One look at him and her stomach muscles tightened in need. Even now, her breath started to catch. She tried not to notice the sweat glistening on the dark patch of skin beneath his partially unbuttoned shirt or how his rolled sleeves revealed each flexing muscle and corded vein on his strong forearms while he worked. His buckskins clung to every muscle along his powerful thighs and tight rear like a second skin. Such a view made her long to feel his legs wrap around her.
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