by Stacey Kayne
He hugged her close and laughed against her lips. “Me, too.”
Cora leaned into his soft lips, eager for the closeness they’d just shared. She reached up, her fingers twisted into his hair, holding him closer as his taste and the heat of his embrace surrounded her.
He lifted her against him. Her wet skirts didn’t hide the ridged evidence of his masculine body. He shifted again, and the feel of his body pressed so intimately to hers ignited a hard surge of panic. Her mind flooded with the memory of being held down, the sharp stab of pain between her legs.
She shoved against him. He…he wouldn’t.
His grip tightened, his hand flexing on her buttocks, trapping her against the bruising strength of his body. Fear streaked through her, overpowering a rush of wild sensation.
With a shriek of protest, she wrenched herself away from him and stumbled back.
“Cora.” Chance moved to pull her soft warmth back against the fire twisting through his body. The stark fear in her eyes stopped him.
She backed away, her narrowed eyes hazing with tears. “How could you?”
“Cora Mae—”
She turned and ran toward the house.
Chance stood there in stunned silence. What the hell had just happened?
He licked his lips, her taste still lingering there. He slumped against the tree and glanced down at a body honed to do a lot more than just kiss. He’d been ready to throw her to the ground and relieve the desire that had been pulling at him since she arrived.
Good God— He’d all but attacked her.
He scanned the ranch, making sure no one else had witnessed his lack of restraint. He didn’t see anyone. The shock and betrayal in her eyes filled his mind.
What have I done?
She wasn’t some promiscuous widow out getting her kicks; she was Cora Mae, and he’d just scared her half to death.
Damnation. He’d scared himself.
Chapter Nine
T he chair beside Chance sat empty. He didn’t have to look up from his plate to feel the angry glares aimed in his direction. Skylar had already cornered him in the kitchen, asking if he knew why Cora had run into the house in tears and hadn’t been downstairs since. He’d lied straight to her face, claiming he didn’t have a clue.
When Skylar walked into the dining room with a plate of lemon cake, the thought of Cora Mae’s lemon-tinged tongue rubbing against his had him out of his chair in a heartbeat. He headed for his study, hoping to find some peace and solitude.
Over an hour later he sat in the solace of the one room that didn’t bear any hint of her presence, yet all he could see as he stared at his ledger were Cora’s wide frightened eyes gazing back at him.
He eased back in his chair and blew out a pent-up breath. He wasn’t sure if he should go to her and say…something.
The door squeaked open, letting in the sound of a fussing baby. Chance straightened in his chair as Skylar stepped inside, a crying bundle in one arm, a carrying basket in the other.
“Shhh,” she soothed, patting the swaddled baby on her shoulder as she kicked the door closed behind her. “Hush now, Em. Don’t wake your sister.” She glanced up and drew to a halt. “Oh! Sorry, Chance. I didn’t—”
“Come on in,” he said, rising from the cushy chair she clearly needed more than he did. “I was just heading out.”
“Tucker fell asleep on our bed while reading to Joshua. We came down here so we wouldn’t wake them.” She slid the basket onto the desk. “I know it’s just after seven, but you’ve all been working so hard.”
“You can nurse those angels anywhere you please,” he said, glancing into the basket at Grace wrapped up tight in a new pink blanket. “I see Grace’s color is now pink.”
Skylar smiled as she eased into his chair. “I had planned yellow beforehand in case these two were boys. Luckily Cora had a supply of pink yarn and ribbons.”
Of course she did.
Emily let out a sharp cry from beneath the blanket draped over Skylar’s shoulder, just before she found her source of nourishment. That was all it took to initiate a similar protest from the basket. Skylar released a hard sigh and rocked the basket while cradling Emily against her with her other arm.
“Can I hold her?”
“Yes. Thank you. They’re such piglets.”
Chance lifted his fussing niece and tucked her into the bend of his arm. A few gentle pats on her bottom and she quieted, cuddling against him. He picked up his ledger and took it back to the bookshelf.
“You certainly have a knack with babies.”
All females should be so simple, he thought, sliding the ledger into place. “Can I get you anything, Skylar?”
She glanced up from her daughter and smiled in appreciation. “A glass of water would be grand.”
He and Grace left the study and returned a few moments later with her drink.
“Thank you,” she said as he set the glass on the desk. “I feel like a permanent feeding station. I’ve been so thankful for Cora’s help. I would have gone mad this past month trying to adjust to feeding schedules and keeping up with Joshua and everything else.”
Chance sat down in the chair on the other side of the desk and kept his gaze on Grace.
“She’s agreed to watch the girls and Josh for a couple of hours tomorrow. My horses have probably forgotten me.”
“Not likely.” Skylar was one of the finest horse trainers he’d ever seen, when she wasn’t heavy with child. But she and Tucker seemed to have their own selfish plans to fill this house up with kids. Damn cute ones at that, he thought.
He sure hadn’t planned on children running through this house when he’d built it. He and Tuck had had a plan: start a horse ranch and avoid the marriage trap. He figured Tuck must have been out of his mind when he’d fallen for Skylar. But Chance had to admit, life hadn’t been bad. Skylar settled his rambling brother and brought a level of comfort to their home. Joshua’s arrival had been like a miracle. The boy knew how to hit every soft spot left in Chance’s heart.
He brushed his finger across Grace’s plump rosy cheek. Kids were something special. Maybe his brother had it figured out.
Or maybe Chance just needed to remind himself that Tucker had a way of coasting through life on God’s graces, whereas he tended to trip over them. Disrespecting Cora Mae the way he had certainly hadn’t been a smooth course of action, and damn sure wasn’t going to earn him any graces.
“I hope my girls aren’t keeping you awake at night.”
Chance glanced up. “No.” The only girl keeping him awake was the one upstairs wishing him to the devil.
A smile eased across Skylar’s lips, making him wonder if she could hear his thoughts. “Want to talk about it?” she asked.
“No.”
“I didn’t think so.” She stood and placed her sleeping infant in the carrying basket. As if on cue, Grace began to fuss in his arms.
“Piglets,” said Skylar, grinning as she approached him and relieved him of her fussing daughter.
“Can I take this bundle upstairs for you?” he asked, looking into the basket at Emily.
Skylar settled back into the soft desk chair. “Yes, thank you.”
He lifted Emily from the basket and started for the door.
“Chance?”
He paused in the doorway, glancing back at her.
“Whatever your grievances are with Cora, I hope you two can work them out. I’d hate to see her go.”
“Did she say she was leaving?”
Skylar nodded, her expression heavy with concern. “At the end of the week. I don’t think she has anywhere else to go.”
“Did she say that?”
“No. But she’s a lot like you in that respect.”
Chance frowned. “How do you mean?”
“She doesn’t share her burdens.”
Problem was, Chance knew he was one of those burdens. “I’ll talk to her.”
“I’d appreciate it.”
He nodded
and headed for the stairs.
It wasn’t hard to see that nearly everyone on the ranch preferred Cora Mae’s company to his. He’d be a selfish bastard to chase off Skylar’s first real friend.
He stepped lightly into Tucker’s bedroom. His brother was asleep against a stack of pillows, an open book on his chest. His son slept soundly beside him. Tucker woke as Chance laid Emily in the cradle.
“Playing nursemaid?”
“Seems that way. Sky’s downstairs with Grace.”
Tucker leaned over the side of the bed and smiled at his daughter. He reached over and stroked her soft tufts of blond hair.
Leaving the room, Chance felt a sharp stab of jealousy.
It all seemed to come so easy for Tucker—marriage, kids, ranching.
The sudden thought stunned him.
He had never begrudged the happiness Tucker had found with Skylar. He’d never wanted any such thing for himself. He only wanted to run his ranch and be left alone.
Cora Mae was driving him out of his mind!
He stopped before her room. What the hell am I supposed to say to her? You stay and I’ll go? Give up the only life that had ever meant anything to me?
He rapped on the door. “Cora?”
She didn’t answer, but he knew she was up. Light seeped through the cracks around the door.
“Would you talk to me?”
He waited another minute.
“Please, Cora.”
Another moment passed. Something scraped on the other side of the door before it opened, just wide enough for her to peer out at him. No doubt her foot was braced against the door to keep him out.
Chance stared down at the scuff marks on the wood floor leading to the chest of drawers she’d clearly just shoved from the doorway. Good God. Did she think he’d attack her?
Glancing up at the caution in her darkened eyes, he assumed so.
“What do you want?” she asked, her cold tone adding to the guilt building inside him.
“To apologize,” he said, telling himself he shouldn’t notice the way the lamplight lit up the clean shiny curls of red and copper that swirled around her shoulders. “I’m sorry, Cora. I was out of line.”
Tears glistened in her eyes. “I didn’t…I wouldn’t have—”
“You didn’t do anything other than trust me. I’ve been feeling lower than dirt all evening for breaking that trust.”
She sniffed, blinking back her tears. “I get the message,” she said, her tone hard. “I’ll leave.”
He stared at her a moment, stunned by the implications of her statement. “You think that’s why I kissed you? To get you to leave?”
“Why else? I’ve told you I have no interest in marriage. Perhaps I should have expanded that to paramours.”
“I admit my actions were disrespectful. It won’t happen again. But I sure as hell didn’t kiss you to try and scare you off.”
Her poignant expression didn’t change.
“I swear it, Cora Mae,” he said, the distrust in her eyes killing him. “I went too far, and I hope you can forgive me.”
“Of course. I care for you as a brother.”
His eyebrows shot up. “A brother?” She’d just accused him of trying to make her his lover and now he was supposed to think his actions had been somehow incestuous? “Can’t we at least be honest about this? The way you kissed me back was hardly sisterly.”
Her eyes flared. “I didn’t ask you to kiss me!”
“Maybe not, but after the way you kissed me, you can’t deny the attraction between us.” The memory of her tongue moving tentatively over his burned through him. She’d filled his arms perfectly, her warmth pressed against him, her softness beneath his hands. She’d all but melted into him, kissing him back with…with the inexperience of a virgin.
Hell. Her timid exploration had set him on fire, and he’d taken her from her first taste of passion to grinding against her.
“I’m not saying what I did was right,” he said, reminding himself he’d come to her room to apologize. “I could taste your innocence, and I—”
“Good night!”
He pushed against the door before she could shut it. “Cora Mae, I’m trying—”
“I don’t want your attention,” she shouted. “I don’t want these feelings!”
The door slammed shut.
Chance shut his eyes and leaned against the door frame.
What had he expected?
Judging by the solid rise in his trousers, an invitation into her bed would have been a start. He wanted her until he couldn’t see straight.
He couldn’t have her. He wouldn’t take her. What was more, she didn’t want him.
At least, not now.
The sound of the chest being shoved back in front of the door confirmed that notion.
Damnation!
All she’d wanted was confirmation that he’d keep his hands off her, and he hadn’t been able to even give her that much.
He walked into his room, telling himself he should be thankful she had the sense to resist him. Hell. If Salina affected him half as much as Cora Mae, he’d have found himself standing before a preacher by now.
His skin prickled at the thought, dread overpowering every other emotion in his body. He walked across his dark room and glanced out of the window in the direction of the Lazy J.
Maybe he was just fighting the inevitable. His options seemed plain enough. Celibacy or marriage. Clearly his long bout as a celibate was driving him out of his ever-loving mind, to the point of shaming Cora Mae. Hadn’t everyone pointed out the same thing? Cora Mae wasn’t the problem here—he was.
He had to get out of this house.
Chapter Ten
E ight-thirty was too early to be in bed, but Salina didn’t care. Feeling quite decadent, she lifted a mug of hot chocolate to her lips and leaned back, sinking into a pile of pillows that still smelled of Wyatt. He’d seemed awfully confident before he’d ridden out this evening, although he always looked confident while lying naked in her pink bed linens.
She smiled at the thought. Whatever his plans, she hoped he would succeed. She could not afford another large loss.
A light knock sounded on her bedroom door.
“Yes?”
The door squeaked open. “Mrs. Jameson?”
“What is it, Carmen?”
“Mr. Morgan is here to see you.”
Salina sat up, hot cocoa sloshing across her hand as she clutched at her loose wrapper. “Chance Morgan?”
A wry smile flittered across the old woman’s lips. “Yes, ma’am.”
Good gracious! “Well…offer him some refreshments and tell him I’ll be right down.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Salina raced to her wardrobe and rummaged through her black dresses. Hurrying into one, she swept her hair up into a coil and secured a wide hair comb. After buttoning her shoes, she drew a deep calming breath and assessed herself in the mirror over her vanity. Everything seemed in place. She pinched her cheeks to give herself a bit of color.
Perfume.
She couldn’t go downstairs smelling of Wyatt. She picked up her perfume bottle and coated herself in a rose-scented mist.
Perfect.
She started downstairs, anticipation bubbling. She’d known Chance would come to his senses. Her breath caught at the sight of him filling up her parlor. He stood, hat in hand, taking in the sophisticated elegance of her home. His broad shoulders stretched nearly the width of her small hearth.
“Good evening, Chance.”
He turned and tucked his hand into his pocket, his expression stern. “Evening, Salina. Hope I haven’t stopped in at a bad time.”
“Not at all. Indeed, your arrival is a lovely surprise. Please, sit.”
Chance glanced at a pink upholstered settee. “All right.”
Not certain its spindly legs would take his weight, he eased onto the dainty sofa and dropped his hat to the polished dark-wood floor. Surrounded by pink-and-white wallp
aper and a menagerie of glass dolls, he felt like he was sitting in a little girl’s doll house.
Salina wedged in beside him, her brown eyes shining with pure feminine appraisal as she smiled up at him. His gaze landed on the two white mounds bubbling up from her bodice, the scent of rosewater damn near choking him.
What the hell am I doing here?
It had seemed clear enough during the long ride over. After all Skylar had done for him and Tucker, he supposed he needed to step up and do something to benefit the ranch. If courting Salina could fix all their problems, what the hell did he have to lose?
“Didn’t Carmen offer you refreshments?” she asked.
“She did.”
“You declined? You simply must have a sweet roll.”
“Did you make them?”
Laughter trickled from her throat. “Surely not.”
“Don’t you cook?”
“I find there are far more appealing ways to spend my time than sweating in a hot kitchen.” Her hand flexed on his knee.
The woman sure didn’t beat around the bush. The sensual glint in her dark eyes suggested this would be a good time to take her into his arms.
She smiled and leaned into him.
It wasn’t as though he lacked experience in seducing women, but as he curved his hand around her waist and pressed his mouth to hers, he realized he lacked the urge. Not that it mattered—Salina latched on to him, her mouth all but devouring his. Her arms banded his neck as she pressed against him. His hands moved up her slender back before sliding to her waist and hips, but all he felt was bony woman—no hint of the lush softness he’d felt with Cora Mae—
Damnation. Hadn’t that been why he’d come here, to get Cora off his mind?
Salina sucked his tongue into her mouth, her breath hard against his face as she pressed her breasts against his chest. To his sheer annoyance, he didn’t feel a damn thing as she wriggled her way onto his lap.
Did she expect him to bed her right here in the parlor, with her housekeeper in the other room?
He broke away from her kiss and practically had to peel her off him.