by Caro LaFever
Remembering so much.
How his father had brought home this horse when Nick had turned sixteen. Instead of getting him a fast car as he’d wanted, his pa had said a man needed a horse in this country more than a car. And no, he didn’t need no colt to train. His boy required a mature gelding that would train him.
He’d been pissed. He’d often been pissed then.
In the one concession his pa had ever made him, he got to name the horse himself. Filled with spite, he’d used his Spanish.
And then, his pa had been pissed as well.
Caballo nickered, like the horse was chastising both of them for being fools. Foolish and stubborn.
“Yeah, what can I say?” He slid his hand down the neck of the animal, taking in what age had done. Gray streaks were strewn through the mane, while the withers carried a distinct bow. “Just because we’re older, doesn’t mean we’re any wiser.”
A rustle came from the loft, so muted he barely caught the sound.
But he did catch it.
None of the hands would be up there. Plenty of hay was stacked in each stall, and he remembered the routine well. When the weather was fine, the horses were let out in the field at six a.m. sharp, if they weren’t used with the cattle or for other chores. Since the weather wasn’t fine, the horses would have been groomed and checked later in the morning, and then once more before bedding.
No, the hands would all be cozily situated in the bunkhouse. His pa was still doing his damn smoking in the basement, and Nick had just left a worried Mrs. Wallach behind in the kitchen. It couldn’t be Jessie. His Jessie had escaped into her bedroom.
A wild animal trying to escape the storm?
Yet how could it possibly have gotten through Edward Townsend’s well-maintained barn? No crevice or crack was allowed in any of the structures dotting this vast ranch.
The rustle came again.
Nick crept silently to the ladder at the end of the stalls. It was new, a much sturdier version of the one he’d used as a boy. Without making a sound, something he’d also done as a boy, he slunk up the ladder.
There was the missing blanket. Along with his missing Jessie.
A tousled head of fire was his first clue. The long body hidden under a woolen blanket was his second. A short, snappy sniff confirmed his conclusion. “Jessie. What the hell are you doing out here?”
“Go away.” She sniffed again, keeping her face under the covers.
Fear rampaged through him like a burning fire. Stalking to her, he loomed above, tight fists on his hips. “You walked through the fucking blizzard by yourself?”
“Go away,” she said again, her words muffled in wool.
“You could have easily got lost from the house to the barn.” The fear took him by the throat, making his voice harsh and raspy. “You could have wandered past the buildings and died, you fool.”
Her head jerked up, and the flame of red hair seemed to bristle on her head like a young cub being charged. “Who’s calling who a fool, you idiot?”
Idiot. Crazy. Savage.
The fear mixed with the ever-present rage he’d never shaken, making him vibrate with all the passionate emotions he tried to suppress. She didn’t face him, but he could still spot the faint line of tears on her cheeks in the mellow light coming from below. The sight caused a wrench in his chest so violent, he nearly sank to his knees.
He’d done this.
His stupid move to bring her here. To catch some time to plead his case, a hopeless case. He’d been the one who’d left her alone long enough that she’d wandered into his pa’s angry sphere. “I’m sorry for whatever he said to you.”
That got her to swing around completely. Her brown-blue-green eyes were frosty with a blend of anger and disgust. “You should be sorry for what you’ve done and said, not for your father’s deeds.”
“Nevertheless, I’m sorry.” His fists tightened. “Whatever he said, he was wrong.”
“Was he?” Her head cocked, red hair floating across her shoulders in a river of beauty. He wondered when and why she’d taken her hair down. The only time she ever did was when he coaxed, or if she wanted to be kissed and held. She certainly wouldn’t respond to his coaxing at this point. Was she signaling she wanted a kiss?
His logical, calculating brain said, not a chance.
But his lustful body stirred saying, take a chance, always take your chance.
She shifted under the blanket. The movement caught a stream of light, turning her neck into a glowing, creamy length. The memory of how she tasted on his tongue and lips, how she’d gasped as he sank his teeth into her skin, came back.
In a snap, his cock went hard. The short wool jacket he had on did nothing to cover his reaction.
His Jessie’s gaze went over him and her eyes narrowed at what she saw. “Don’t even think about it.”
“It’s tough not to.” Grabbing for some charm, he smiled. “You’re so beautiful.”
That got him a snort. “Whatever.”
“You are, you know.” Inspiration hit. Turning, he took the top of the ladder and maneuvered it to the far wall. He could still reach it, though she couldn’t.
“What are you doing?” Suspicion ladened her voice. “Put the ladder back.”
“Nope.” This was his chance. A hopeless chance, but he’d take it and run as far as he could. “We need to talk.”
“I’ve had enough of talking.” Her head dipped under the covers once more. “I’ve had enough of everything.”
The dreary note in her voice made him want to yell. At himself and his pa. “Then we’ll just sit together.”
Together.
The word floated between them, weighted with bittersweet memories.
She didn’t respond. To his word, or the memories so clearly flowing between them.
Nick slunk to a bale of hay and lounged. He couldn’t let her see the turmoil going on inside, it would only confirm everything his pa had probably told her.
Nicholas can’t keep his temper.
My boy is a crazy savage.
Idiot.
His hands fisted again, so he put them behind him. The prickliness of the hay poked his knuckles, reminding him he still had a chance if he kept calm. “You’ve had some time now.”
“Time for what?” she snapped.
“To take in what your father did.”
“Time to take in what you did.”
“Jessie,” he couldn’t help the pleading in his voice. “I needed to keep this ranch.”
At that, her head popped out from underneath the blanket once more. Instead of what he expected—anger—her expression was filled with curiosity. Reluctant curiosity, yet it was there.
He’d take that. Take it and run with it. “I don’t know what insane plan my pa hatched with yours, but if we stick together, we can win rather than them.”
“Win?” Those mixed eyes of hers dimmed. “Win what, cowboy?”
The nickname gave him hope, though that gaze made him cautious. He plowed on, it was the only thing he could think to do. “Win everything. The hotels. The ranch—”
“That’s what’s important to you, isn’t it?” A sneer covered her face. “Things. Money. Land.”
“No, no,” he stuttered. “You didn’t let me finish.”
“Go ahead.” I dare you echoed in her words.
Heat coursed through his body. Not the heat of lust he’d felt moments ago. No, this was the heat of panic. He could see her slipping away from him as surely as if she’d strode to the ladder and yanked it in place. Stripping off his coat and hat, he stood.
Her glare told him not to come nearer.
Nick sucked in his breath. Words. He needed to find the words. He’d never had any trouble with words before. But at this most critical moment of his life, he failed himself. His brain tumbled in his head, spewing only a tangle of thoughts and hopes and fears.
“Lost your train of thought?” she jeered. “Or maybe I was right.”
He’d lost
her.
He saw it in the burn of her eyes.
Her words and that burn torched through him. The fire blasted into his heart, searing it into dust. In its place rose his temper. The only thing he’d ever been able to rely on when confronted with defeat.
“I haven’t lost anything,” he snarled. “Not anything important.”
“I thought so.” Her voice went stiff, stony. “You’ve lost me for sure, and I was never important to you in the great scheme of things.”
Rage twisted inside him, along with a desolate, desperate desire. An ugly need to take her one more time and imprint himself in her.
Like a brand.
Like a mark she could never erase.
The last remnant of sense tried to pull him back from the abyss, but Nick barreled right past the warning screaming in his head. Striding to her, he reached down and tugged her to a stand. He caught her flailing hand in his and yanked her close.
The heat of his temper flared into passionate craving. “You’re important to me in one way, Jessie.”
“Don’t you dare.” She scowled at him, not intimidated by his size or maleness in the slightest.
“I take every dare. You know me.” The words shuddered through him. Because she did know him—knew his charm was a shield, knew his essential ugliness in the depths of his soul. Once, he’d thought she’d accepted him—the parts and pieces of him he’d cobbled together into a shaky whole. He’d thought she’d loved him.
Him.
Not the Nick Townsend who ruled his world. But rather, the Nicholas James Townsend who was fundamentally flawed.
He’d been wrong. He could see it in her eyes. Disdain, disgust. When he’d finally taken her to this ranch and exposed her to his pa, to his past, she’d seen who he really was and rejected him.
As he’d always feared.
The realization struck him like a steel-tipped bullet, driving right through his disguise. The disguise of careless charm and endless grace. The last of the disguise fell away, leaving only the ugly man beneath. A man who had his wife in his grasp. A man whose lust never diminished when she was around. A man who’d do anything.
His hands tightened on her.
She squeaked, her expression turning wary. “You’re hurting me.”
“You hurt me, too.” Before she could respond, he leaned in and took her wide mouth with his. Dimly, he felt the kick of her boot on his calf, the scratch of her nails on his skin, the tight rejection of her lips. Yet, none of it mattered. All that was important was he still had her, she was close, she was here.
He slid his lips from hers.
“Jessie,” he murmured, as he aimed for her beautiful neck. One more time, he had to taste her, take her in. One last time he needed to feel her inside and around and beside him.
“Nick, don’t.” But her plea ended in a groan of mutual desire.
His heart rose from the dust. Rose and rose and rose until it filled his throat with a glut of tears he barely contained. To hide his emotions, he ducked his head into her. Taking in the softness of her skin, the scent of her—sugary cinnamon. The feel of her in his arms, so strong and sure.
His tears wet her neck.
She stiffened. “Hey, cowboy.”
He hated himself. Hated his weakness, his soul, his fundamental flaws. Even more, he hated that he couldn’t let her go. Pressing his face into her soft skin, he tried to choke back the tears.
Her hands escaped his clutching grasp.
Rather than pushing him away, though, she laced them through his too-long hair and clung. “Don’t cry. Kiss me instead, and let’s forget for now. Let’s be together.”
Together.
Shock blasted through him like lightning. Right behind the shock, ran pure, exultant joy. Rearing his head up from his hiding place, he let the joy of her flood him inside. Maybe all he had was this moment, but that was enough for him. If all he had of Jessie was now, he’d take it.
Her eyes had turned to gold and her mouth curled in a wistful, wondering way.
He flashed her a grin before sliding his lips across hers.
This time he gave, not taking.
Her tongue swirled into his mouth, making him gasp. The wonder of her turned to want in a second of timeless connection. Within minutes, Nick had both of them undressed and on the blanket. The dim light of the storm cut strands of gray across her naked breasts and stomach. The sprinkle of freckles were little bursts of sunshine on her milky skin. Her long arms and legs wound around him like a living vine.
“Jessie,” he whispered. “Te amo con todo mi corazón y alma.”
Sí, everything was hers. His heart. His soul. His body, his past and present.
His everything.
She accepted him into her, as Eve did Adam, as woman took man. His cock slid into her core, made for her, only her. When they’d loved before, he’d closed his eyes to hide the pieces of him she shouldn’t see. But this time, he kept his gaze on hers, never letting himself evade.
Her eyes glowed, shimmered with…
Love.
His resurrected heart galloped to and fro, making him dizzy. Trying to keep himself steady was impossible when his hips moved with hers and his gaze was caught by hers.
His heart galloped straight into her grasp as well. Captured. Forever.
A shudder of wonderment and fear strummed through him. The blurred knowledge of what the future held for him almost got him, but the pleasure of her flesh and the joy of their connection swallowed it whole. He gasped on her mouth as her body tightened into orgasm, grasping his cock in a flowing roll of desire. Losing the last of his focus, Nick let himself be swept into her beauty, swept into her body with a pulsing orgasm of his own.
Reality seeped into his conscience like a slow drip, drip of time. She lay under him, heated warmth, silent warning. His brain came online and scrambled to find words, actions, vows. Anything to keep this connection. Anything to convince her to give him another chance.
“No condom again.” Her voice was dry as the desert in the middle of summer. “Planned, I presume.”
“Huh?” he croaked.
“That’s typical of you, isn’t it, Nick?”
Typical.
The word brought with it so many memories. None of them good. His body’s lax satisfaction turned to tight, taut pain. “I don’t know—”
“Still gunning for the win. Still using every trick in the book.”
His heart curled inside his chest and died.
“Get off me.” Her voice was hard as stone, her body growing cold beneath him. “Now.”
Chapter 34
Jess pressed her nose on the cold windowpane and sighed. The fog of her breath steamed the glass, turning the wintery outside to a blur. But she’d seen enough.
The storm was winding down.
She was free to leave.
For one long day, she’d hid in this bedroom, venturing out only to help Mrs. Wallach in the kitchen before eating. She’d ignored Edward Townsend’s piercing stares and occasional pokes. She’d ignored the housekeeper’s worried hums. And she’d ignored Nick.
Who, to her relief, had ignored her, as well.
She turned to survey the bed. Her suitcase was packed, her useless phone sitting by her purse.
Listening to the conversation at breakfast this morning, she’d figured her time was done here. If the men were going farther afield to check on the cattle using trucks, then that meant she could demand one of the vehicles return her to the plane. The pilot and steward had been housed in one of several cabins on the ranch’s estate, yet surely they’d want to leave, too.
Nick hadn’t said a word to her, but she’d seen it in his eyes.
The reality. They were over.
Walking to the suitcase, she slammed it closed, locking it shut. She didn’t allow herself to think. Just as she hadn’t let herself think for the last twenty-four hours.
About the sex. About him. About her foolish fall.
When she’d run out int
o the blizzard to escape everything—her husband and his father and the terrible deal she’d begun to understand—there’d been no thought of the danger, only of retreat. She knew Nick had been right when he’d yelled at her for taking such a chance.
Except she hadn’t cared about herself at that point.
She’d only cared about escape.
The barn and the horses had been a welcome relief from the emotional firestorm residing in the ranch house. Welcome quiet. Welcome silence so she could think.
His arrival had made her feel again. Hurt again. She had a right to those emotions.
She’d been in the right.
Yet, when his tears slid onto her skin, all the rightness of her righteous indignation fell off her like chain-mail. Nick Townsend weeping. Her pain had curled around his, and the need for him swept over her, too beautiful to reject.
What an idiot she’d been.
She’d realized her error the moment her brain reconnected to reality, sweeping past her emotions. Yes, she’d been harsh, but he deserved it, her pride reminded her.
He deserved far more rejection than she could ever deliver.
A knock came at the door. She knew instantly it wasn’t Nick. She’d heard his knock so many times here at the ranch, it would be tattooed in memory for a lifetime. Three short, sharp taps. Followed by his accented voice. Pleading. Stupidly, she’d thought she’d hear it again after their time in the barn. Even though she’d rejected him, she’d thought…
The new knock came once more, two hard thumps. “Time to go, Jessica McDowell.”
The last word was slurred with sarcasm. Edward Townsend had apparently given up on his scheme. His and her father’s scheme to make her a permanent parcel of the Townsend empire.
Good.
Tugging the suitcase off the bed and grabbing her purse, she strode across the bedroom. She opened the door to find a scowling old man glaring at her.
“Giving up, are you?” he poked.
“There’s nothing to give up on.” Ignoring him, she looked past him, making sure no son lurked. “I’m ready to go.”
“My boy ordered his plane to be prepared for flight.” He wrenched her suitcase from her grasp. “Said I should be the one to drive you.”