by Unknown
He licked his emaciated lips as if he already savored her flavor. She shuddered and swallowed back the nausea that churned in her stomach. She pushed at the hand that claimed her breast, but it remained firmly in place. He twisted a nipple. White-hot pain shot through her breast. Tears threatened, but inside, she rebelled. “I’ll stand on a street corner and give it away for free before I ever allow the likes of you to touch me!”
His blue eyes rimmed with frost. “The only one you’re giving it to is me. You already kept me waiting too long. I’m fresh outta patience. Get your ass off that barstool. You’re coming with me! I’m gonna fuck you ‘til my balls turn blue. ”
She felt the cowboy’s rage surge forth like a blast from a furnace as he vaulted off the barstool. Terror gripped her. Oh, God, she couldn’t allow this to happen.
“Don’t—”
She wasn’t sure just which of the men she gave the command to. It no longer mattered, neither was listening to her. The cowboy stepped around her as though she hadn’t spoken.
He moved with unleashed power, a veritable giant who towered over Smitt. “Get-your-hands-off-her-Davis.” He enunciated each word. “Do it, while you can still walk out of here with your family jewels attached. I promise you, they’ll be black and blue if you don’t release her immediately.”
Oh, dear God, he knew Smitt Davis. She lifted her head, gave him what she figured was something of a desperate look. “You know him?”
In her opinion, that didn’t say much for his character.
He didn’t take his eyes off Smitt. “I know him.”
“How well do you know him?”
Apparently they weren’t friends. So, okay, maybe his character was better than she thought.
“Very well.”
Well, shit.
Anger burned fiercely in Smitt’s glassy blue eyes. “This is a private party, Jace. I don’t remember inviting you to it.”
Kaycee stifled a groan. This was awful. They knew each other well enough to be on first name basis. Oh, this was getting worse by the minute.
“I didn’t think it wise to wait for an invite. You have a filthy mouth, Davis. I don’t like you.”
Ah, okay, she liked that. The cowboy didn’t like the bastard lecher.
“I won’t say it again. Get your hands off the lady.”
Smitt dropped his arm to his side. Disdain curled his skeletal lips. “This isn’t the first time you’ve interfered in one of my little projects. I don’t like it when others stick their noses in my business. I make a point of getting even.”
Kaycee stayed silent. She didn’t want to do one thing to distract the cowboy.
“I don’t like it when a gutter rat threatens a lady. You want to make your point? We can settle it here or take it outside.”
“I’ll bide my time,” Smitt replied. “I know when to back off and when to strike.”
“Yeah, most snakes do.”
Rising from the stool he was perched upon, Smitt paused long enough to grab the stack of bills off the bar. “This ain’t over.”
The cowboy’s eyes narrowed in warning just before he clamped his fingers around Smitt’s wrist. “Leave the money,” he advised, leaning closer to Davis.
“It’s mine.” Smitt’s voice tightened with pain.
“No.” Jace spoke the single word.
“Let him have it,” Kaycee cried, her voice trembling. God, she just wanted out of here, wanted it all to go away.
“I don’t think so,” Jace said quietly. “It’s not his. I have a problem with petty thieves and bullies.”
Smitt dropped the money back on the bar and jerked free. He stood, straightening his shirt. “Very well, this time it stays, but there will be another time. You won’t be around to run interference.” His beady gaze shifted to Kaycee. “One day, girlie, just you and me.” He pursed his lips and made a kissing noise in the air, then winked. “Just you and me and the ride I got coming to me.”
He turned his wintry gaze on Jace. “Watch your back, big man. Ya never know who might be behind it with a loaded gun.”
“Anytime you feel lucky.” A slow predatory smile twisted Jace’s lips. “I’m not a hard man to find. In fact, I can make it real easy for you.”
A small, strangled sound slipped past Kaycee’s lips. “Please…don’t.” She placed a hand on Jace’s arm.
He held Smitt’s gaze for a few more minutes, then shifted his attention to her.
“Please,” she repeated softly. “Let him go.”
He gave a curt nod and returned his full attention to the slime in front of him.
“Like I said, watch your back.” He scurried from the lounge, flashing Jace a last look of hatred before disappearing in the crowd.
Jace’s face relaxed, smoothing away the tight lines of anger as Smitt disappeared.
“Slimy bastard.” He swept a glance over her. “You all right?”
“Yes.” She shook her head. “No.” She was trembling from head to toe.
“No, you’re not.” He swore softly and pressed her drink in her shaking hands. “Drink it,” he instructed.
She gulped down the alcohol.
He held onto her hands while he ordered her another. “Christ, your hands are like ice.” He replaced the empty glass with a full one. He waited patiently for her to finish the drink, and then rubbed her chilled hands between his own.
She swallowed the amber liquid before lifting her gaze to the cowboy’s intense scrutiny. There was puzzlement, as well as anger and disbelief in his dark eyes.
“I–I’m sorry.” She swayed slightly. “Thank you for your help, Mr.—”
“It’s Jace. And it’s my pleasure, I assure you.” He scooped up the money and pressed it into her palms. “I believe this belongs to you.”
She stared at him. “Yes,” she said huskily, blinking back tears. “It does.” She shoved the bills inside her purse with unsteady hands. “Thank you.” She looked up, curling her fingers lightly around his arm. “I…have to go now,” she said faintly. “I feel…rather strange. Thank you for…everything.”
Jace watched her with a singularly arched brow as she stumbled off the barstool. She wobbled her way through the crowd, her gait hesitant and unsteady. His lips twitched.
Yeah, he bet she felt rather strange.
The lady was shit-faced.
Well, that left out seduction. He couldn’t seduce a drunken woman
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, catching up with her.
He gripped her elbow to steady her.
“Home.”
“You’re driving?”
“Of course.”
Like hell.
“Darlin’, you’re in no shape to drive.” He supported her as she teetered unsteadily.
“Tha–thank you,” she breathed, clutching his arm. She looked up at him, her violet eyes wide with surprise. “I said that already. Didn’t I?”
He grinned. “Yes. But you can say it as often as you like. I don’t mind, sweetheart.”
She swayed again. Her fingers sank into the taut material stretched across his chest.
“Oops.” She giggled, tottering. “I feel–I feel…uh…I don’t know how I feel. I think my lips are numb.”
He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t drag air into his lungs. She was so incredibly beautiful his chest ached. He knew she wasn’t even aware her breasts, so lush and firm, pressed intimately against him. He drew in an unsteady breath that did nothing to ease the ache in his groin.
“The manager really should do something about this floor. It seems a might unstable.” She smiled sweetly, her teeth a string of white pearls. “I’m a friend of the owner,” she stated, whispering in a confidential tone. She tilted her head back to look up at him. “Do you know him? Duel Remington?”
“That sorry dog, yeah, I know him. A little.” He frowned. “How well do you know Duel?”
“Do you think this floor is unsteady?” she asked softly. She looked puzzled, as if trying to figu
re out why the floor might be moving. Then she shrugged, concentrating on her reply. “Oh…not well,” she replied. She fell against him again. “The floor keeps rolling out from under my feet. Don’t you think it’s unsteady?” she repeated, raising her eyes to his.
He smothered a groan. He wasn’t certain if she had replied to his question or made a statement of how she felt. She was going to be the death of him. Still, he couldn’t stop the rueful grin tugging his lips. “Just a tad, sweetheart,” he agreed soberly.
He resisted the temptation to kiss her senseless. He didn’t resist linking his arms low around her waist and drawing her closer. Christ, she felt good. She fit against him like she was made for him.
Her eyes glittered like polished purple stones as she held up a thumb and forefinger, holding them slightly apart as if measuring. “Just a tad,” she repeated him. She hiccupped softly. “Oops. Sorry.”
Jace smothered his laughter and the joy he felt at just being beside her. He wanted her so badly he ached. “Come on,” he growled. Linking his fingers with hers, he pushed his way through the crowd, pulling her behind him.
“Wait! Jason!” She tugged at her hand without success. “Jason.”
He paused, turned to face her and laughed. “It’s Jace…just Jace.”
“Well, Just Jace…you see…I can’t go with you,” she said breathlessly. “I don’t even…know your name.”
He rolled his eyes. “You know my name. What’s yours?”
“Ka…uh…Katie…Kay,” she concluded. “It’s Kay.”
“You’re sure?” he asked grinning.
“No.” She hiccupped again. “But it’ll do.”
“Okay. So now we know each other. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
He made a determined bee-line for the exit. He’d found something he wanted, and he’d intended to going after her with no holds barred. Hell, he couldn’t do that now. Looks like he’d be sleeping alone after all, on the sofa or on the floor, but there was no way he was letting her drive or out of his sight in her condition.
He smiled down at her as they entered the family’s private elevator. He inserted the access key to the penthouse floor, keeping a cautious eye on her as she swayed back and forth.
She giggled when another tiny hiccup escaped. “S ‘cuse me.”
Her eyes closed and she rocked gently to the tune she hummed beneath her breath.
He frowned. The melody was off-key, but he recognized it as the tune to Show Me the Way to Go Home. Suddenly she belted out the part about being tired and wanting to go to bed followed with, “Boom-boom-boom!”
A faint grin curved his lips and he shook his head. Damn. He wished she wasn’t so out of it. Going to bed sounded like a plan to him, or it had.
Abruptly, the humming halted and she gave a slight moan. He made a wild grab for her as she slumped forward toward him. He lifted her in his arms and shook his head in sympathy. Her head lolled like a rag doll. She was as limp and lifeless as a wilted flower.
“Oh, darlin’, you’re so going to regret this in the morning.”
She turned a wobbly smile upon him. “I don’t feel well.”
He couldn’t resist pressing a tiny kiss against her mouth. “No, I don’t imagine you do.” And he wondered how in hell he was going to resist temptation and keep his hands off this tempting lady with the beautiful violet eyes.
Chapter Six
When you begin a cattle drive you can’t expect to say you are finished until you have visited a fancy woman and played some games of chance.
~Wild Bill Hickok
Penthouse Suite
Friday11:30 p.m.
As he entered the suite, Jace held Kaycee tightly against him. Trying to let her to stand on her own proved futile. She swayed off-balance and fell against him the minute he released her. He grabbed her and tightened his fingers fractionally on her waist. They both ended up against the door, his back to it and she pressed flatly against the front of his body.
She tilted her head, her eyes wide, incredibly large, thick-lashed and glowing with inconceivable softness. She had a mouth made for kissing. He’d spent far too much time fantasizing about where he’d love for her lips to touch him.
He tried to swallow. His mouth felt dry as cotton.
Christ, she was a bundle of sweet, warm kitten in his arms.
He was acutely aware of the sexy dress she wore tangled about his legs, of her feminine mound flush against his arousal. He knew he dared not move. If he wasn’t careful, he’d come right here.
He drew in a tortured breath. Nothing could halt the urgency of his need, and there was only one thing that would diminish it. He tapped down the powerful urge to bunch her dress around her slender waist and search out the secret crevices hidden beneath the soft folds of the fabric.
Unable to deny himself this one pleasure, he brushed his thumb along the soft under-curves of her breasts, seeking out one of the secret places he yearned to explore.
She sighed and snuggled closer against him.
Lord, help me.
How was he supposed to be the good guy when she was all over him like sweet heat?
He looked down at the top of her head where her silver-blonde curls rested trustingly against his chest and stifled a moan. He inhaled deeply and drew in her scent. It surrounded him, lured him like a Siren’s enticing arms. Pure lust slammed into him with the force of a stampede. His mind clouded over with a red haze of heat and desire. Taking her, having her, consumed his every thought.
Damn it! She was in no condition to decide to have sex. The warning hammered its way through the sensual fog, silently advising him to release her, let her go.
Smart advice. He should listen.
His brain felt thick as sludge. Let her go!
It was the right thing to do. He wasn’t the kind of man who took sex from a woman who wasn’t aware of what she was doing. It would amount to no more than date rape.
Hell, she wasn’t even his date.
When he had sex with this woman, he wanted her to be aware of what was happening. Aware of him and everything that happened between them.
For sure, he couldn’t allow her to leave in the condition she was in. Anything could happen to her or anyone.
He sighed.
Yeah, like my intentions are strictly honorable.
Yes! They are. I’m willing to give her time to sober up before I touch her.
Her small hands splayed across his chest, ridiculously feminine and delicate.
Trusting.
Fuck!
Why did she have to be so trusting?
He clasped one slender arm, removed it from around his neck and pressed his lips against her palm. “We need to get you in bed, sweetheart.”
Alone!
Aw, hell! Did his conscience have to jump up and bite him on the ass now?
No, he was going to do the right thing here if it killed him. It wasn’t safe for her to wander around alone. Nothing changed the fact he wanted her and intended to have her, maybe not now—maybe not tonight…but he wasn’t giving her up.
* * * *
Kaycee tried to focus on the cowboy, but her eyes were surely playing tricks on her. There was no way Pecos Pete was looking at her with such sultry heaviness to his half-lowered lids. No way were his high cheekbones stained with a heated flush, as if his body was on fire for hers. That blatantly sinful mouth she so admired was a whisper from hers and surely didn’t reveal pure unadulterated sexual beauty. She blinked. Huh? Oh, yes. There was something raw and elemental that dominated his dark face, heated his gypsy dark eyes. She should be frightened out of her mind.
But all she could think was, Yes. Hurry, please. Do me.
The thick bulge pressed against her lower abdomen sent an ache of pure lust through every sensual nerve. She felt as if she was sinking in a sea of need and desire, every nerve ending acutely alive, and all he was doing was standing there looking as if he’d rather be anywhere else than here with her body rubbing up against h
is.
How could this man feel so right pressed tautly against her body when Smitt Davis’s hard on sent chills down her spine?
The fact she wanted the cowboy so much was out of character. She’d never wanted like this before. Where he was concerned, her control was on the verge of snapping. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was—in a word—sinfully beautiful.
Yeah. Okay. That was two words, but any woman in her right mind would want him, so that ruled out insanity. It only proved her good judgment that she preferred him over Smitt any day of the week.
It felt good to be held close to this man’s chest. His manly scent saturated her senses. There was something ruggedly earthy about the cowboy. When he looked at her, she almost tasted the temptation to sin. Heat and hunger crowded together in his brooding gaze. Frowning, she wondered vaguely what he was waiting for.
“I–is something wrong?”
“Everything’s right,” he whispered. “I’m just soaking in the wonder of it all.”
“What are you doing?”
“Not what I want to,” he replied huskily. “But something else I’ve wanted to do since the moment I saw you.”
He sifted his fingers through her hair and gently removed the jeweled combs. His hands were unsteady when he took a moment to tuck them inside his shirt pocket.
“Oh, Jesus, I never dreamed…it’s so long.” His words trailed away as he fisted her hair and inhaled deeply. “I love your perfume. You smell like violets in springtime.”
“I’m not…wearing…perfume,” she breathed. “You…are.”
He laughed softly and pressed his forehead against hers. “I’m pretty sure I don’t smell like violets, darlin.’”
“Soap,” she whispered drowsily. “The soap…it’s umm…per…fumed.”
He tangled his large hands in the cascade of her hair. “It reaches your hips. Beautiful.” Cupping her cheeks, he tipped her face to his. “Open your eyes, darlin’. Look at me.”
She opened her eyes and stared at him. “Why? I—”