“Hush,” he touched her hair and was surprised at just how soft it was. “You need to sleep; you heal better while you sleep, Duchess.” His voice was so kind and reassuring.
“You should sleep, too, you’re looking kind of rough,” she said and he smiled.
“Look who’s talking.” He pushed her hair back from her face.
“Are you hurt?” She looked at the blood on his shirt.
“No, that’s all your blood. This is my hair shirt,” he said looking at his shirt with a frown.
“But you saved me, you can’t blame yourself for this,” she said.
“I can’t help but think if you didn’t move he wouldn’t have slit you open like that,” he looked down. “I don’t know what he would have done, though, he definitely had a hard on for you. But, who doesn’t?” He smiled.
“It would have been worse if you weren’t there, Buck. So much worse,” she said. He shook his head and grimaced. “Um, just how bad is it?”
“It’s going to pain you for a pretty long while, and you’ll have a hell of a scar, but you’ll live. I’ll ask them to step down the morphine, but I won’t ask them to stop it.” He stood up laid a hand on the back of her head. “Sleep now, my brave Duchess.”
“You should go home,” she mumbled.
“I’m not going anywhere without you,” he bent and kissed her head, then walked silently from the room.
“You’re a strange man, Buck,” she said but he was already gone.
***
After a painful relocating, Joss was finally at home drinking her vodka on the front porch with the cat in her lap and the dogs at her feet. It was very good to be home. If she sat on one butt cheek and put her shoulder to the back of the chair she could be moderately comfortable. The sun had set and the sky was growing vibrantly orange around her. Fernando sat at her feet on the steps, and she rather thought Buck was avoiding her. Maybe he had just had enough of her, or maybe he just was catching up on his work. He was quickly becoming her fixation; he was constantly on her mind. He had become her hero.
She was wondering what possessed her to ask them to stop the pain killers, her back hurt like hell now. There was no truly comfortable position.
Brent was due to be released the next day, and she wondered if he’d eat her vegetarian lasagna. Joss would relinquish the house back to Belle; it was her house, not Joss’s. It might be time for Joss to go back to Denver, she wondered if she’d be able to drag herself away from Buck. She wondered if she was misleading herself. Buck was complicated, but she didn’t know why he would be.
Who was lying in wait for her, and what did they want? Would they still be after her when she went back to Denver? She sighed heavily. Right now she couldn’t use too many brain cells on anything but scratching the cat’s head.
“Did you know Cassidy was alive?” She asked Fernando. He looked at Joss with clear pain in his eyes.
“When you love someone, Joss, you would do nearly anything to keep them from pain. Keep that in mind when you judge Brent and me. Yes, I have known. Joss, you have had tragedy and disappointment in your short life, but you have been fiercely loved. Don’t discount that because of one person who couldn’t be affectionate. Do you remember much of the day she left, Joss?”
“Brent asked me that the other day, it must have been bad. I was still in shock about Brand; I don’t remember anything after we rode up, Brent holding him in his arms and his head, his head was so wrong. I don’t even remember the funeral, but I know we had one.”
“Cassidy made her choices, Joss, for whatever reason. She was never happy here; lord knows why she stayed as long as she did. In the end, if she didn’t want to be here then it was best that she was not here, for all of us. Do you understand?”
“Yes, of course, it just hurts. I was abandoned by choice rather than by accident. I never wished her dead, it would just be better for my ego if she was dead, but my ego is resilient.” Fernando chuckled.
“It always was. How do you like the new scar, speaking of egos?”
“Hmm, I’m trying not to think of it. I can’t tell how bad it is, and hopefully everyone will lie to me and tell me how you can hardly tell anything happened. It has been my experience that most men are too busy looking at the front side of me to be caught up with any horrible scar on the backside of me.”
“You’re not giving your backside enough credit, Duchess,” Buck said. The man was eerily silent.
Joss laughed and turned her head to watch him walk around her so she wouldn’t have to move. “Because it’s out of my field of vision, but feel free to wax poetic should you be so moved,” she said wondering how many vodkas she’d had. She was on her first. It must be the pills they gave her to help with the pain.
“Goodnight, Joss, Buck,” Fernando said and stood up.
“Nando,” she said and he came to her and took her hand.
“Yes, little one,” he said and they both smiled at the sobriquet since she was at least six inches taller than he was.
“I love you, too,” she said and he smiled and kissed her on the forehead and walked away toward his apartment in the barn.
“Can I give you a refill?” Buck asked her, taking the glass out of her hand.
“Why not? It seems to be taking the edge off,” she said. He came back out a few minutes later with an icy vodka and four Advil for her and a beer for himself.
“Thank you. You’re not man enough for the vodka?” He laughed, and she liked the sound of it.
“Absolutely not. My people have had a history of problems with alcohol, I don’t drink much,” he said, “and I need to keep my wits about me around you.” It was her turn to laugh.
“Whose people haven’t? The stuff’s toxic any way you slice it. Cheers,” she said lifting her glass and taking a sip. “Who are your people?”
“I’m a mutt, actually. Cherokee, Navajo and English, I don’t fit in anywhere.”
“But it explains your beautiful color,” she said.
“How many of those have you had, Duchess? That was almost a compliment,” he smiled at her.
“You almost complimented my backside, we’re even,” she said and looked up to the night sky. Their silences had gotten easy when she wasn’t paying attention. He wasn’t distant, so much as still. “Anyway, you know you’re gorgeous.” He huffed out a laugh.
“Ah, but now I know that you think I am.”
“Surprise!” She said and he laughed again.
“You should be on painkillers more often, Duchess; you’re a lot of fun.” He smiled at her and she decided he really was gorgeous.
“Why were you at the pool?” She asked quietly. He took so long to answer she thought he hadn’t heard her.
For a split second he thought he might just tell her the truth, he had hoped to get a few lovely hours together with her in the dappled shade of the cottonwood. That she was becoming an unhealthy obsession, and he’d seen her riding hell bent for the pool and he knew he’d find her naked on the rocks. He knew it like he knew his own name, and there she was exactly as he’d imagined when he came to the edge of the water. God, she was magnificent. Her long body was stretched out and her hair was spread around her head like a mane of spun gold. And when she rolled onto her belly he saw the small black mark on her ass that must be one of her tattoos. Now he knew where, he just didn’t yet know what.
He had known she would ask that elemental question and he had a pat answer, he just didn’t like to lie to the Duchess, she was worth more than that. It didn’t mean he hadn’t lied to her, he just didn’t like it.
The problem was that she was dangerous, and he couldn’t jeopardize all he had put into his assignment, he simply couldn’t help himself. She was too clever; she’d make him in a nanosecond if he let his guard down. But he was pulled to her; he simply couldn’t resist the pull.
“Same reason you were there, I expect. It was hot, a swim sounded like the perfect thing,” he said looking at the beer in his hand. “Finding you there was
just a bonus, but three was definitely a crowd.” She chuckled and finished her drink. He sighed. “But that’s not all, Duchess.” She looked at him. He was serious now. He locked eyes with her as he pulled something out of his jacket pocket. He reached over and placed it in her hand.
It was a caltrop and it was nasty looking. They were two pieces of iron twisted together looking almost like the barb on barbed wire. Four vicious looking prongs stuck out evenly spaced. She looked at Buck’s face.
“The caltrop from my tire?” She asked.
“Not quite, I found this one about a quarter mile west of where you stopped with your flats,” he said.
She held it up between her fingers. It was not even an inch and a half long. “How on earth did you find it?” She asked.
“Um, Navajo,” he said pointing at his chest. She laughed despite the situation. He grinned at her, and it made her feel warm all over. “There were boot prints of two men on the side of the road, I guess they were picking up the ones that didn’t go into your tire and they missed one.”
“And you think they are looking for me? Do you think the same men tried to ambush me with Butterscotch?”
“Yes to both questions. I went to that spot; too, I found the hula hoop, and saw their prints on the side of the road. They waited for you for some time. I followed you to the pool to keep you safe, Duchess. I know you’ll think I’m a stalker, and maybe I am,” he said. “You’re hard to resist.”
“You know who they are.” It was not a question, and before he knew what he was doing he told her the truth.
“Yes,” he said quietly.
“Are you going to tell me who?”
“No,” he said and she nodded.
“But you seem to be willing to risk your life to keep me safe,” he shrugged.
“You are very pretty, Duchess,” he said grinning.
“Nobody’s that pretty,” she said and he laughed.
“Big plans and all,” he said and she huffed out a laugh.
She looked at his hands again. Why were a man’s hands so erotic? His long fingers were peeling the label off the beer he hadn’t even sipped yet, and probably wouldn’t. Those hands brushed her hair last night and braided it to keep it off her back and out of her face. She hadn’t seen him, obviously, but she knew it was Buck carefully untangling her messy tresses for her. It was a singularly exquisite sensation, and if her back hadn’t been opened by a grizzly that day she would have pulled back the covers and invited him in. It was hero worship, plain and simple, but she wanted him. It was so hard to resist a beautiful bad boy, especially after he saved her from being a grizzly bear’s lunch and then stood guard over her while she was drugged and unconscious.
Pulling her eyes away from his hands she met his gaze. He wanted her, too. She could always tell, but something was holding him back. In that moment there was something that passed between them, something visceral and raw.
“Thank you, Buck. I don’t know if I’ve thanked you enough,” she said. He shook his head at her almost sadly.
“Don’t, you don’t need to…”
“Yes, I do,” she whispered. “I was so frightened…” She looked away from him.
“You were incredibly brave,” he said.
“Goodnight, Buck,” she stood, dumping the cat, and he stood too, and put down his drink. She turned and made for her bed. If he follows I’ll let him in, she thought.
“Goodnight, Duchess,” he said quietly after her. It took everything he had not to follow her and love her well into tomorrow. Don’t fall in love with the target’s daughter, Buck. He resolved to keep his distance from her, like he had most of the day. She was like magnetic north, though, and her pull was irresistible.
Buck had had lovers. He had spent several years on the East coast where his uncommon looks were considered exotic and he took advantage of the interest shown him, but always in a detached kind of way. He had been called an asshole more than once, but he was pretty sure the women he entertained weren’t interested in bringing him home to meet the parents any more than he was.
The Duchess was different for some reason. He desired her, hell, who didn’t? But somewhere along the way he started to like her, even respect her. She wasn’t even his type. Her looks were, undeniably, but he never liked brave, smart, strong willed women, they were too much effort, too much trouble. Hell, Joss Erickson was trouble wrapped up in a sexy, long legged, luscious lipped, blue eyed package, she would suck out his soul and own it if he wasn’t careful.
He almost had his own heart attack when he saw the painting of Guernica on her bedroom wall. Maybe she was his type after all.
That’s it, the sooner he took her to bed the sooner he’d get over her, she thought he was some kind of hero now; he could walk back to her room and take her without any fuss. Just sink into her and let go. He took a sweet moment imagining himself slowly ripping that hideous t-shirt the rest of the way off of her, those dark nipples hardening under his gaze, her mouth opening for his. Her legs opening…
He’d wait until she wasn’t in quite so much pain. He laughed. He was making excuses why he wasn’t in her bed right this second, when the truth was that he was terrified of her. She was right on target when she said that the other day, and that terrified him, too. He didn’t just want her body, he wanted it all, and it freaked him out more than he cared to admit. He was not the kind of man who settled down, yet he had dreamed of his Duchess, her hair was cropped short, but it was her, and she held a black haired baby to her breast, her blue eyes shining up at him in wonder and adoration. He woke with a hard on that could cut steel and couldn’t sleep afterwards.
His Navajo grandmother believed in dreams, saying they could be prophetic if one knew how to interpret them. That particular dream was pretty unambiguous, and needed little interpretation. Buck thought his grandmother was part witch more often than not. She could always tell when he was up to no good, but as he got older he realized that might not have been so difficult a task. He was always up to no good. He wondered what his grandmother would have to say about his Duchess. She’d say “Don’t be an asshole, Yawning Lion.”
There was no sense in analyzing why he’d just spent the past day and a half in her hospital room watching over her like some kind of stalker. He was keeping her safe. There was no reason to wonder why he’d brushed her hair and braided it to keep it out of her way, he just wanted his hands on her, that was perfectly normal, he was, after all, red blooded. She’d never guess it was him, she’d probably think it was the nurse. Buck poured his beer out over the porch, stood up, and went to his cold bed.
Sometime in the night Joss woke abruptly to the sounds of shouting and the smell of smoke.
Chapter Six
She had her boots on before she knew what she was doing and ran out the front door. The barn was engulfed in flame. “Fuck.” Running to the crowd just in front of the barn she stared up at it with her mouth gaping wide. The heat was oppressive twenty feet away; there was no chance to save it. What happened?
“All the horses are out, Joss,” someone said to her right, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the barn to see who spoke.
“Fernando! Where’s Fernando?” She looked around and several people shrugged. “Fuck!” Dizzy from the painkillers she ran toward the barn. She felt someone grab for her arm, but she shrugged him off and kept running until she disappeared into it hearing several dismayed shouts behind her. This could be the stupidest thing she’d ever done, but she had to get to Fernando if she could.
The heat was unbearable, and she couldn’t even feel her sweat, her skin was too hot, but she went up the staircase and turned at the top. This was Fernando’s domain; this was where he lived in the summers, since he preferred horses to humans. The smoke was much thicker up here.
Joss looked wildly around through the choking smoke. She saw his feet sticking out awkwardly from the darkness, and she sobbed with relief, knelt next to him, and pulled him toward the steps. Her brain didn’t immediately re
gister what her eyes saw, and she fell back as if pushed. Fernando’s throat was cut, and he was clearly dead. Her inhalation of surprise was all smoke and her throat closed.
Someone grabbed her from behind and she couldn’t even fight him effectively. Joss registered faintly that she must be in shock, otherwise she would have fought her attacker more aggressively, but she allowed him to drag and carry her down the stairs and toward the open door. The attacker was saving her, he could only be Buck. “Quit fighting me, you little idiot,” he growled in her ear. She quit struggling and sobbed again in relief.
The air seemed clear down the stairs and she tried to breathe again but it was impossible. They were nearly out of the crushingly hot barn when part of the roof caved in. The burning rafters that knocked them to the ground seared their backs. The pain was exquisite, but she had no strength left to move.
There was more shouting, it was coming closer, but still indistinct.
Buck’s long unmoving body was covering her and she smelled her hair burning and her lungs were on fire, and her back was burning from more than just the fire. She couldn’t move with Buck sprawled across her, she could barely breathe from the weight of him, but somehow it was comforting knowing he was there. Then she felt an overwhelming sadness that they hadn’t ever had a chance together, and now they were going to die together. “I’m so sorry,” she said to him, but she had choked out the words with her tears, and he was probably beyond hearing her anyway.
After what seemed like forever, he moved and shifted the beam across his back off of them and he manhandled her off the dirt floor and toward the door. Hands dragged them from the inferno as they gasped and coughed. Someone poured water over them and it felt like a balm, but she was too busy trying to breathe to thank, or even notice, whoever did it.
She was carried to a stretcher near the ambulance and she tried to stand but there were strong hands gently pushing her back down, and soothing voices calming her, and faces swimming before her. Someone put an oxygen mask on her face and wrapped her in a blanket, but she shrugged the blanket off, even wet she was far too hot and sore to tolerate anything else on her body, particularly on her intensely painful back. She was beginning to focus on things around her, and the first thing she realized was that she couldn’t stop trembling. The blanket went back over her shoulders and this time she left it there. Shock, she though distantly, she was probably in shock.
Breaking the Bad Boy Page 11