He was at her side in a matter of moments and she collapsed against the solid wall of his chest. “Oh Ross, thank God it’s you!”
His arms came around her in a tight band. “Bella! What are you doing down here?”
She lifted her head and tried to discern his face in the darkness. “I was worried because you hadn’t come to the house. And everything was dark down here. I was afraid something had happened to you. And then I heard the kitchen door closing and I thought it was you…but it wasn’t and I couldn’t find you anywhere in the house. But someone was there, Ross! There were muddy boot tracks and—”
“Bella, Bella, calm down,” he interrupted. “I’m all right. And you’re all right.”
She gulped in a deep breath and waited for her racing heart to calm somewhat before she spoke again. “I was so worried, Ross. I thought you’d be back at the house hours ago.”
“Worried about me, huh? Maybe you weren’t as angry with me as I thought you were.”
Even though she couldn’t quite see him, she could hear a smile in his voice and the sound eased her heart. “Ross, I was never angry. I—well, I think there’s some things I need to say to you. But I’ll wait until we get back to the house. Are you finished here?”
“Almost. I was moving the orphaned calves to another pen. The barn leaks where Skinny had them and I didn’t want them getting wet. It would be hard for the little things to shake off a bout of pneumonia.”
“I’ll come with you,” she told him. “I’m not about to go back to the house without you.”
Sensing that she wasn’t in the mood to be teased about a bogeyman, Ross took her by the hand and led her back to the opposite end of the barn where he’d been working when he’d heard Isabella call out to him.
“Just stand here,” he said pausing beside a large stack of alfalfa hay. “All I need to do is make sure there’s water in their trough.”
“Okay.”
Only a few seconds passed before he was back at her side. “All finished. Can you make it back to the house now?”
“Of course. I’m fine. Just a little wet.”
“A little wet.” He flashed the dim circle of the flashlight over her. In spite of the plastic poncho, her pants were soaked. Mud was splattered on her lower legs and all over her feet, which were only protected by a pair of flimsy sandals. “You’re sopping. It looks like I should be worrying about you catching pneumonia instead of the calves.”
She reached up and twisted the long length of her hair into a tight rope. Water squeezed from the strands and dripped to the ground.
“Why didn’t you call and let me know what you were doing?” she asked with a measure of irritation. “Didn’t it occur to you that I might be concerned?”
“Not really. You didn’t seem too concerned last night.”
She’d kissed him like there would be no tomorrow. Apparently he hadn’t noticed or else he’d already forgotten those scorching moments she’d spent in his arms, Isabella thought dryly.
“I have been concerned about you from the first day I became your lawyer. Someone doesn’t like you, Ross, and with you wandering alone down here in the dark—”
“Come on, Bella,” he interrupted, “you’re getting overly dramatic on me.” He paused and the dim light of the flashlight showed a wicked grin had spread across his face. “But I kinda like the idea of you worrying about me. And you came all the way down here—”
He paused as he started to reach for her and it was in that moment a streak of lightning lit the space around them and she caught sight of a huge object moving just above Ross’s head.
“Ross! Look out!” she screamed.
For a frozen second he hesitated as he tried to figure out why she was looking up at the hayloft and then it dawned on him that something was falling.
He jumped forward and took her down with him as heavy bales of alfalfa hay fell from several feet above. One of the large rectangles struck him in the shoulder, then rolled to the side. The others landed exactly in the spot where he’d been standing.
Dust from the ground and bits of hay from a bale that had broken boiled up in the air around them. Isabella coughed as Ross slowly sat up and looked at the mess.
“What the hell happened?” he asked in a dazed voice.
Isabella scrambled to her knees and stared in horror at the hay bales. Weighing a good eighty or ninety pounds each, they could have been lethal weapons.
“My God, Ross, you were nearly killed!”
He flexed his shoulder in an attempt to shake off the fiery pain running from his collarbone all the way down to his elbow. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Are you hurt?” She scooted closer and gently touched his arm.
“I’m okay,” he said tightly. “One of the bales hit my shoulder. But I don’t think anything is broken.”
She gazed upward to where several tons of hay was stacked on a wooden platform. If she hadn’t looked up and seen it falling, Ross’s neck could have been broken. The notion left her trembling and tears gathered in her eyes.
“Oh, Ross! If you’d been hurt, I don’t know what I would have done!”
The pain in his shoulder was forgotten when he felt the tremor in her hand as it moved up his arm.
“Bella, you could have been hurt, too. You’re not, are you?” he asked urgently.
“No.” The need to touch him, to feel with her own hands that he was well and safe, was all she could think about. She moved closer and circled her arms around his neck. “Just hold me, Ross.”
Groaning, he clasped her close against him and buried his face in the side of her neck. “We need to get out of here,” he whispered.
“I know—but—just give me a minute,” she pleaded brokenly.
He could feel her whole body shaking and the notion that her fear was all for him stunned Ross. Women cared for his money and for his social status, but never really just for him. Not like this.
His voice husky, he mouthed against her ear, “Bella, don’t be afraid. Everything is all right now.”
She tilted her head back to look at him and he quickly framed her face with both hands.
“Ross…”
The impassioned way she said his name was like an urgent caress. It triggered a need in him so deep that the only thing he could do was bring his mouth hungrily down on hers.
Isabella responded by parting her lips and snuggling her body closer to his. At the same time, his hands delved beneath the wet poncho she was wearing, then slipped beneath her shirt until they were splayed against the warm flesh of her back.
Around and around her senses swirled as his lips rocked back and forth over hers, as his tongue plunged inside the warm cavity of her mouth. The tiny moan of need in her throat was drowned out by the distant thunder, but it didn’t matter. He seemed to know what she was conveying to him. That she needed him and this time there would be no turning back.
Tearing his mouth from hers, he strained to see her face in the darkness. “Bella—we need to go. It might not be safe here.”
A fresh spurt of fear caused Isabella to shiver. “You think those bales came down on us deliberately, don’t you?”
Not wanting to panic her, Ross tried to play down the seriousness of what had just happened. “I don’t know, Bella. But if someone did push the hay at us, he’s probably already gone by now. Don’t be afraid.”
Isabella was afraid, but her desire for Ross was so strong, it overpowered her fear. “I’m not afraid—I just want you to make love to me.”
“No,” he said thickly. “Not here in this wet, dirty barn. Let’s go to the house.”
He got to his feet and pulled her up with him. Blocking out all sight of tomorrow, Isabella allowed him to take her by the hand and lead her out of the barn.
Chapter Twelve
Outside, the rain was tapering off and the rumble of thunder had moved on to the east. The two of them scampered, half running, half walking across the ranch yard until they reached the front p
orch.
Before they entered the front door Ross turned to her. “Stay right here while I check out the house. Someone could have come in while we were in the barn,” he whispered.
Isabella didn’t like to think someone might be after them, but she realized it would be foolish not to play it safe. Nodding, she whispered back at him. “Just be safe, Ross.”
Inside the living room, the lamp she’d switched on earlier was still burning, casting a dim glow from one corner. Ross left her long enough to make a quick search of the house. When he returned to Isabella, he led her through the door and quickly locked it behind him. “It’s all clear,” he assured her.
She glanced down at her wet clothes. “My poncho. I need to take it off,” she said softly. “It’s dripping all over the floor.”
“Do you think I care about the floor?” he asked roughly as he bent and picked her up in his arms.
She didn’t argue. It was too easy, too wonderful to let him have his way. As he carried her down the hallway to his bedroom, she held on tightly to his broad shoulders and scattered kisses up and down the side of his neck.
Once they reached his bedroom, he didn’t bother with a light. Instead his hands were busy with her clothes, first tossing away the poncho, followed by her shirt, then her pants and sandals. By the time he’d stripped her down to her underwear, his movements grew slower and more deliberate.
Isabella closed her eyes, luxuriated in the feel of his rough hands against her skin, and marveled at the strange leaps and jumps her insides were making in anticipation of becoming intimate with this man she had grown to love.
When he finally removed her bra and his hands cupped her breasts, she shivered as liquid fire raced along her veins.
“Am I hurting you, Bella?”
“No,” she said on a breathless groan. “I just didn’t know—I’ve never felt like this.”
The awed note in her voice struck a spot deep inside him, shocking him with totally foreign emotions. To think that she’d never reacted to any man the way she was reacting to him now swelled his chest and filled him with a need to pleasure her, to love and protect her. Not just for this night in his bed, but for always.
“Bella! You’re so perfect. So beautiful,” he murmured as he bent his head and brought his mouth to her breasts.
Isabella had never considered herself perfect. Nor had she ever thought of herself as beautiful, but to think his eyes saw her that way thrilled every feminine part of her. Yet that pleasure was mild compared to the sensation of his lips and tongue against her nipple, tugging, tasting, sending ripples of excitement washing over her in wave after wave.
At some point when they’d entered the bedroom, he’d tossed his Stetson aside. Now she slipped her fingers into his thick hair and pressed them against his scalp as she instinctively arched her back and strained to have him even closer.
Her urgent movements fed the heat that had begun to build in his loins the moment she’d touched him in the barn. Wanting to go slow, but knowing it would be impossible, he lifted his head away from her and quickly tore off his clothes and boots.
Once he was undressed, he slipped away her panties and lifted her backwards, onto the king-size bed. When he was stretched out beside her, Isabella reached for him at the same time his hands searched for her.
Crushed in the circle of his arms, she sought his mouth in the darkness and sighed with sweet contentment when his lips opened over hers. Beneath her soft fingers, his shoulders were thick and broad. She explored their width and breadth, then moved on to the firm muscles of his chest and the flat male nipples that puckered instantly beneath the twirl of her fingertip.
Already throbbing and aching to have her, he tore his mouth from her velvety lips and pressed moist kisses along her throat and downward, to the rosy brown peak of her breast.
“You taste like honey, Bella. Sweet, sweet honey.”
She quivered as his hands followed the track of his lips downward over each rib and across her belly until he reached the mass of dark curls between her thighs. Then he lifted his head and watched her face as he slipped a finger inside the warm moist folds of her womanhood.
Gasping, a shock of pleasurable sensations washing over her, she arched against his hand, desperately seeking the relief that only his body could give her.
The heated response inflamed him and he wrapped the fingers of his other hand around her breast and kneaded the soft mound.
Beneath him, she whimpered with need as her hands raced down his rib cage, his back and onto his hips. At the same time, the movement of his hand between her thighs was teasing her, burning her with such a lust she was certain she was going to die from the flames.
“Oh, please, Ross, please,” she whispered shamelessly. “I can’t wait any longer.”
Her broken plea echoed the raging ache inside him and was all he needed to take her body and make it his.
Easing her flat on her back, he positioned himself over her, then bent his head and captured her lips in a deep, mind-drugging kiss.
As his lips continued to probe and tease, his hands delved beneath her hips and cupped around her buttocks to lift her upward toward the thrust of his erection. Her velvety heat instantly welcomed him, enveloped him in such overwhelming pleasure that he groaned aloud.
Dazed, but desperate to receive all of him, Isabella moved her hips, twisting them upward, recklessly urging him on. Ross pushed deeper, then gasped as he hit the barrier of her innocence.
Shocked, he instinctively eased back, but she held his hips tightly against her, determined to give him what they both so desperately wanted.
“Bella! You’re a virgin! I—”
“You can’t stop now,” she said, her words a husky rush. “I won’t let you!”
The fierce resolve in her voice convinced him that it would be futile to stop things now. And he wasn’t at all certain he could, even if he wanted to. He wanted her like nothing he’d ever wanted in his life.
With a rueful groan, he pressed his lips to her damp temple. “Are you sure, Bella? If not, I swear I’ll try to get off this bed.”
She locked her legs around his and circled her arms around his neck. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” I love you, she wanted to add. I love you with everything inside of me. But she kept the words to herself, certain that once she said them, she could never take them back. And certain, too, that once he heard them, he would surely withdraw from her.
“But you—”
“I want you,” she murmured simply, then silenced any other protest he might have made by placing her lips over his.
Unable to resist, he responded by thrusting into her swiftly and completely. Fiery pain seared her, but as he began to move inside her, the pain fled and was instantly forgotten as incredible pleasure flooded her body.
Rocked by the intimate connection, she held on tightly and matched her movements to his. But it seemed only moments passed before she found herself climbing, climbing to a soft, sweet place where there was nothing but black sky and brilliant white stars bursting behind her closed eyes.
Above her, Ross felt every muscle in his body clench. Then his head fell back and a harsh guttural sound erupted from his throat as he felt his heart, his very soul, drain into her.
The next morning bright sunlight awakened Isabella from a deep sleep. She opened her eyes to see that she had slept late and that the storm from the night before had been replaced with clear, azure-blue sky.
Before she even bothered to turn her head, she instinctively knew that Ross was gone, his warm body no longer draped alongside hers. She immediately felt a sense of emptiness that he had not stayed behind to share the morning with her. But then he was a working man, she rationalized. He didn’t lounge about for any reason.
Last night might have been life-altering for her, but she had to remember that making love wasn’t anything new for Ross. She was just the latest in a line of women who had come and gone from his life.
Bi
ting down on her lip, she recalled all the ways he’d touched her, kissed her, turned her body inside out with pleasure. Surely what they’d shared had been special, she thought desperately. Surely he’d never experienced that sort of connection with any other woman.
What makes you think that, you little idiot? He’d never said “I love you.” He’d never said “I want you here beside me for the rest of my life.”
Groaning at the goading voice going off in her head, she twisted onto her side and immediately went stock still. There on the pillow next to hers was a small branch of purple sage.
Scooting up to a sitting position, she reached for the blossoms and lifted them to her nose. Their scent was pungent and spicy, reminding her of the way Ross had made love to her.
Tears pooled in her eyes as she climbed out of bed and began to gather up her clothes.
Minutes later in her own bedroom, she showered and dressed in jeans, shirt and boots. Then she tied her hair back at the nape of her neck and dabbed on a bit of makeup. Her image in the mirror looked wan, her eyes cloudy from lack of sleep.
If Marina noticed her appearance, she didn’t make any sort of comment. But Isabella figured the older woman had already concluded that she’d spent the night in Ross’s room. And knowing that, Isabella had already decided she wasn’t going to be embarrassed about it. She was a grown woman, after all. And what woman could resist Ross Ketchum? Certainly she hadn’t been able to. Now she feared she was going to reap the consequences.
While she ate breakfast, Marina brought up the subject of last night’s storm. Isabella made a few comments about the lightning and thunder, but she didn’t go on to mention that she was certain someone had come into the house without making himself known to her.
If Marina had found the muddy boot prints on the kitchen tile, she’d probably thought they’d belonged to Ross and simply mopped them away. As for the accident down at the barn, Isabella was holding that close to her chest, too. She wanted to see with her own eyes just what might have caused those hay bales to fall out of the loft.
After breakfast, she pulled on her hat and headed down to the barns. As it had been yesterday, the ranch yard was unusually quiet. Most of the horses were gone from their stalls, and the outside pen, which normally held the working remuda was empty, except for Juggler. Since he was saddled and tied to a hitching post, she wondered if Ross might still be around somewhere.
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