Suddenly she was alone with a baby. Oddly, she didn’t panic this time. She walked slowly about the room. There wasn’t much space to do so. This house was more what she’d expected the Callahans to be living in, minus logs for walls. It was just one big, open room with parlor furniture in one corner, a dining table in another, and a kitchen in yet another, with just two bedrooms tucked into the last corner. There was no stove for cooking, which was probably why the fireplace was still lit and made the room uncomfortably warm. But it was big enough for a small family, she supposed, and homey looking, with crocheted doilies everywhere, even little round ones under the knickknacks.
She finally sat down on the sofa and pulled back the blanket a little when the baby made a noise. It was so tiny! And funny looking with no hair and a face that was nearly red. His hands were moving, at least the one that was out of the blanket, though his eyes were closed. He was adorable and she started whispering silly things to it. Which is what Hunter caught her doing when he came back in.
“You’re going to make a good mother,” he whispered so he wouldn’t disturb the baby. She grinned even as she blushed at the compliment. She guessed some things did come naturally to women after all.
“I think he’s awake,” she said. “I’m not really sure, since he won’t open his eyes.”
Hunter sat down next to her to have a look at the baby, so close that their shoulders touched. He was grinning, too. He liked babies?
Then he added, “Let me check on their little girl. Don’t think she’s much older than four. She might be lying in her room terrified, after all that screaming.”
“What screaming?”
“Birthing can get pretty loud.”
He disappeared again, but was back in a moment. “She must have slept through it, or she’s back to sleep again now that it’s quiet.”
Tiffany nodded and stood up. “Can you hold him for a moment? With this jacket and a blanket in my arms, I feel like I’m going to melt, it’s so hot in here.”
“Of course,” he said without hesitation, and took the infant from her.
She quickly shrugged out of the jacket and draped it over the back of the sofa, then held her arms out for the baby again. Hunter didn’t immediately move, his eyes on her half-exposed breasts. She’d kept the jacket buttoned, so he hadn’t seen what she was wearing until now.
She’d thought she could take off the jacket without blushing, but she was wrong. “I warned you I wasn’t dressed to go out.” She moved closer to him and took the baby from his arms. Holding the little bundle in such a way that it blocked Hunter’s view of her breasts, she sat on the sofa again.
“Sorry, that was just—unexpected,” he said, and moved over toward the fireplace. But when he turned to face her again, he actually drew in his breath. His eyes were on her face, so she didn’t understand until he said, “Your hair lights up like a flame in the firelight. I’m glad I didn’t have to wait until winter to see that.”
“It’s just—just your imagination.”
“Is it?” he said huskily. “What about your eyes gleaming when you look at me? That’s not my imagination, Jenny.”
“A reflection—”
She was too tongue-tied to go on, with his looking at her like that. Fire was reflected in his eyes, and yet—the fire was behind him.
Chapter Forty
TIFFANY DIDN’T KNOW WHAT might have happened if the rain hadn’t arrived with a vengeance. It sounded like a stampede of animals approaching before it pounded so loudly on the roof she thought for a moment that the house was coming down. The baby even started crying, though she was able to quickly quiet it with soothing assurances.
But she couldn’t quiet her own panic, which had nothing to do with the summer storm. She was beginning to like this man, too much. And what she’d just felt with his looking at her so sensually, what was that? She was still a little breathless from it.
She needed to get out of here, not the house, but the territory, before her feelings for Hunter got even stronger and she started thinking it might not be so bad to actually marry him. But it was going to be another day or two before she heard back from her mother on her first letter, and another few days after that before she heard on the second letter. Before the end of the week, surely. Then she could jump on the next train out and put all this behind her.
“We’ll have to sleep here tonight,” Hunter said, looking a little exasperated now.
Where? she wondered. This house was too small to accommodate guests, and this room was still much too hot to sleep in. She’d just as soon ride home in the rain—no, she wouldn’t. It had blown in fast and the trails were surely muddy. Maybe it would blow out just as fast and they could still get back to the Triple C tonight.
“Had a feeling that storm was heading our way,” Caleb said as he rejoined them. “Least you didn’t get caught in it.”
Hunter shrugged. “To be expected at this time of the year.”
“This is the rainy season?” Tiffany asked.
“Midspring to midsummer, so we’re still smack in the middle of it,” Hunter replied.
“You’re welcome to sleep here for the night,” Caleb offered.
He took the baby from Tiffany. She immediately crossed her arms high over her chest.
“It’s too warm in here,” Hunter declined. “The barn will do.”
“Let me get you some blankets then.”
It was easier to just turn her back on Hunter when Caleb left the room. Actually, if they were going outside, she ought to put his jacket back on. She did, but she almost took it back off again because the jacket smelled like him, that distinctive scent of leather and pine trees. That’s what she smelled whenever she was close to him, and the idea of being close to him all night was giving her shivers all over!
Caleb returned with the blankets, even one pillow. Thanking them for coming, he promised breakfast in the morning. Hunter handed her the blankets, keeping one to flip over their backs. He held it up and spread it wide in front of them. “Stay next to me or you’ll get drenched.”
There were already puddles in the yard everywhere. Tiffany was stepping in them before she saw them, soaking her shoes. At least she took the precaution to bunch her skirt up to her knees with one hand so the hem wouldn’t get wet, but they were both laughing like children by the time they reached the barn. Hunter tossed aside the wet blanket and lit a lantern, revealing that the barn also served as a stable, with four stalls, all of them filled now, one with a dairy cow.
“We’ll get up high, away from the smell of the animals,” he said, looking up. “There are some bales of hay in the loft. I’ll open one to make us a soft bed.”
“Two beds.”
“We only have two dry blankets left, one to lie down on and one for a cover. So don’t be a prude tonight, Red. I don’t hanker catching a cold for this good deed.”
It wasn’t the least bit cold! Of course she was the one wearing his jacket, so she didn’t argue about it. The temperature was likely to plummet during the night, rain or no, so he wasn’t exaggerating. Each night she’d left her windows open at the ranch, she’d woken in the morning buried under her blankets, the room chilled.
He hooked the blankets around his neck before climbing the ladder, then had her toss him the pillow so she could follow him up. But throwing something wasn’t as easy as it looked, at least not over her head. She missed five times getting the pillow to go in Hunter’s direction, which had them both laughing before she made it.
Light from the lantern under the loft reached most of the exposed rafters, but the loft itself was left in dim shadows, though it was certainly enough light to see by. She helped Hunter lay the blanket after he spread the hay. The remaining stacked bales enclosed the makeshift bed like a wraparound headboard.
He removed his gun holster first, then his belt, before he sat down on the blanket to take off his boots and socks and toss them aside. He then stretched out on his back on one side of the blanket. She’d been looki
ng at him. She hadn’t meant to, but she was getting a little nervous over this sleeping arrangement. When he opened the top button on his pants, her eyes flared wide.
She gasped. “What are you doing?!”
He chuckled. “Not what you think. Just getting a little more comfortable. I’m not exactly used to sleeping in my clothes, but don’t worry, they’re staying on.”
She swung around to give him her back and hide her embarrassment. Had he deliberately planted that image of his undressing in her mind? It was definitely there, and she was suddenly sweltering from heat again.
She slid out of the jacket, but that didn’t seem to help. She finally sat down and took off her shoes. She wasn’t about to get under the blanket yet, as hot as she was now.
“You could share that pillow,” he suggested idly behind her. “I’m told I have a soft arm you could use as one.”
“No.”
“My chest is even more comfortable.”
“No!”
“Worth a try.”
She couldn’t see it but she could hear the grin in his tone. She relented enough to toss him his jacket. “Use that for a pillow.”
She caught his sigh as she lay down on her side of the blanket, as far away from him as she could get, barely an inch from the edge of the blanket. There had to be at least a foot or two between them. Then why did it feel as if they were touching?
“Snuggle if you get cold, Jenny. I promise I won’t mind.”
Humor was in his tone, but he’d turned away from her as he said it, so she didn’t bother answering. She did try to sleep, she really did. But she simply couldn’t get comfortable. Her nerves were frayed. Her skin felt so taut. Even her breathing wouldn’t settle down. She was aware of and embarrassed by every sound she was making simply because he was making none.
It must have been an hour later that he said, “Get some sleep, Red. It will be morning before you know it, hopefully with some sun shining.”
“I’ve never in my life had to share a bed,” she whispered back. “I’m not doing it very well, I’m afraid.”
“There’s nothing to it. Cuddle if it’s cold. Stay as far apart as possible if you’re too hot. Kick me if I snore. I’ll try not to do the same if you snore.”
She almost laughed. She did relax a little, so she knew that was his intent and thanked him silently. But ten minutes later she was tossing again. She at least tried to do it more quietly now since she realized she’d been keeping him awake, too.
This was such a bad idea. If she knew how to saddle a horse, she’d ride back to the ranch house herself despite the rain. She had to resign herself to not getting any sleep tonight with this man so close to her.
Then she heard him snoring softly. She opened her eyes. She was facing him. Big mistake. Having had her eyes closed for so long, that dim lantern light below seemed much too bright now. She could see Hunter too clearly. It was actually the first time she could look at him for any length of time without his knowing it and her feeling embarrassed. She took full advantage of that.
He was on his back again, an arm behind his head. His shirt was mostly unbuttoned. His body was so long! And hard, the muscles so clearly defined. He’d given her leave to snuggle, an excuse to touch him. No, no! She didn’t dare. She remembered what had happened when she’d sat on his lap that night in the kitchen. If she got closer to him and started touching him, she had a feeling she might not stop, and then he’d wake and . . . and . . . She shied away from that thought, but it still spread heat all over her and turned her breathing heavy.
And she still couldn’t take her eyes off him. She even looked where she’d never dared to before, at the bulge between his legs. She knew what it was. Her mother had been thorough in explaining the intimacy of the marriage bed to her, even describing the male body and the changes it would undergo in that bed. On Hunter it looked a little too big. That had to be uncomfortable for him. Then her eyes flared wide. Did it really just move?
Several minutes later she realized he wasn’t snoring anymore. Her gaze shot up to his face to find his eyes open and staring at her.
“You weren’t asleep?” she whispered.
He groaned before he admitted, “I faked it, so you could relax. Why aren’t you asleep?”
She didn’t answer. She didn’t know! She was just so pent up with what he made her feel, and he hadn’t even been trying to make her feel anything, just the opposite. But it was still there, the heat coursing through her, the high tempo of her pulse, the fraught tension, as if something inside her were going to explode if it didn’t get out.
It must have been some yearning in her expression that made him groan again. “It was killing me, but I swore I wouldn’t take advantage of you tonight.”
“Swore to whom?”
“Myself.”
“Unswear.”
Did she really say that? She must have because she met him halfway in the middle of that blanket. The explosion did occur, all her inhibitions let go. She was kissing him, aggressively, passionately, and soaking in every nuance of his doing the same. But it wasn’t enough. God, she couldn’t get close enough to him.
He tore off his shirt, pulled her loose blouse off so quickly she barely noticed. His skin was so hot she was afraid to touch it, but she did anyway, had to, thought she would scream if she couldn’t. Something was still building in her. Kissing him was immensely pleasant, deeply satisfying, but it still didn’t stop the clamoring inside her for something else.
“How do you make me feel like I’m going to die if I don’t taste you? All of you.”
Even as he said it he began to do that. It was too much and yet she wouldn’t have stopped him for the world. Down her neck and shoulders, to her breasts and beyond. He’d been serious, he intended to kiss and taste every inch of her. He even licked her palms and sucked on every finger! Everything tingled even as she was scalded by the heat of his mouth.
“Help me,” she gasped when she could catch a breath. She couldn’t catch many she was panting so hard.
“Anything. Just tell me—”
“Now!”
She didn’t even know what she was begging for. An end certainly. It was too much pleasure all at once and yet, not enough. That didn’t even make sense in her frazzled mind. But he knew, and an ecstatic cry was wrenched from her as he gave her what she needed, him, in the deepest part of her. She held on tightly to him, her arms wrapped around his neck as the throbbing waves were soon flowing through her clear to her curling toes. She could never have imagined something so beautiful and perfectly satisfying to burst from so much frantic yearning.
She continued to marvel at what he’d given her even as she heard him reach his own ecstasy. After a few more moments he moved to her side, pulling her with him. She felt his lips soft on her brow and then a final kiss, so tender, so—loving. She would probably have cried from the emotion it inspired if she weren’t still surrounded by such lush languor she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. She’d sort it out in the morning, but right then, she finally felt comfortable enough to snuggle against him and fall asleep.
Chapter Forty-One
TIFFANY WOKE FIRST BUT didn’t move an inch. She was facing away from Hunter but could still feel the length of him pressed to her back and curled legs. Her head was on an arm he’d extended. His hand rested on the pillow she was staring at on the far side of the blanket. Neither of them had ended up using that pillow. That might have made her laugh if she wasn’t feeling so—so—like tears were imminent.
She was going to have to lie to him, a lot. She’d have to tell him that what had happened was a mistake and that it couldn’t happen again. Fiancé, honor of that commitment, she’d break out every excuse, even the truth if she had to. Because what they’d done was a mistake.
“Ready to go find a preacher?”
She blinked. That didn’t sound like a philanderer talking. He was probably just teasing. Of course he was, that was his forte, after all. By the end of the week she would be
gone with her mother’s permission. Hunter would never have to find out who she really was. He would forget her completely—and why did she feel like crying?
He suddenly leaned up to kiss her bare shoulder, then her cheek. “You’re going to be the prettiest bride the territory has ever seen.”
Oh, God, he was serious? Tears filled her eyes, he sounded so happy! What had she done, giving herself to this incredible man she couldn’t have? He didn’t even know who she really was. If he did . . .
She stood up abruptly and started dressing. “I can’t talk about this right now. I—I didn’t expect this to happen.”
“I understand. You’re probably feeling bad because of that man you said you’d marry, but don’t. He was a fool to let you get away. You have to know by now he wasn’t right for you.”
Every word he said was making her feel worse. He wanted to marry a woman who didn’t exist.
She swiped at her cheeks to remove the wetness before she said, “I want to get back to the ranch before anyone discovers we were out all night.”
“Yeah, I’ve got a lot of explaining to do to my pa, but I don’t care, I’m telling him I’m marrying you, not Tiffany Warren.”
The tears returned with a vengeance. She continued to swipe at them. He didn’t notice since he was dressing.
“So you don’t want Caleb’s breakfast first?”
“I’m not hungry,” she lied, praying her stomach wouldn’t betray her. “If you could just saddle me a horse, I can probably find my way back easy enough.”
“You know that’s not happening, you riding alone. But we can head out now if you want. Come to think of it, I’d rather have your cooking anyway, as good as it’s gotten.”
She didn’t get a chance to reply to that compliment. He suddenly swung her about, right into his arms, and kissed her lazily.
“Good morning, Red.” He grinned down at her. “It is, ain’t it? Best damn morning ever!”
He let her go with a gentle swat to her rump, shrugged into his shirt without buttoning it yet, and headed down the ladder. She dropped to her knees as soon as he was out of sight and let the tears flow freely. Why did he have to be a cowboy? Why couldn’t she have met him in New York? Of course then everything she liked about him wouldn’t be there. He wouldn’t be Hunter, teasing, laughing, charming, carefree, courageous, gallant—Hunter.
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