“No.” With a groan of protest, she jerked her hips away and raised her head, her eyes nearly black with need. “Not without you.”
“It’s all right,” he soothed, while inside his blood seethed. He reached for her again. “Let me.”
She shook her head. “No, Tyler. Not without you. It should happen together, for both of us, with you buried deep inside me. I don’t want it any other way.”
Her words, such sweet, sweet words, nearly cost him his control.
Upstairs, Amanda pulled the plug on the bathtub. Water, and Tyler and Carly’s moment, gurgled and chugged down the drain.
Carly watched Tyler close his eyes and fight the fire rag- ing between them. The skin across his cheeks stretched tight. His lips, still moist from hers, firmed and pulled into a grim line.
She ran shaking fingers along his beard-roughened jaw. “Another time, perhaps?”
His lids rose halfway, leaving his eyes glowing through fierce, narrow slits. “You can count on it.”
During the next days, Carly and Tyler were never alone long enough to consider making love, but it was always on both their minds. Tyler showed it in the way he grabbed her every chance he got and kissed her breath away. Carly showed it in the way she clung to him and kissed him back.
Except for Monday afternoon when Tyler drove to town to talk to the Tomlinsons, only to find them gone, he was always nearby. He seemed to be everywhere, waiting for the opportunity to pull Carly around a corner, behind a door, anywhere away from prying eyes long enough to tor- ment them both and keep the fire blazing hot and high.
And Carly was becoming less and less shy about putting herself in his path. On her way to the chicken house early one afternoon, she stood outside the gate and waited until Tyler, working with a colt in one of the corrals, looked up and saw her. She gave him a long, slow grin, then crossed through the fenced chicken yard and into the henhouse.
Before she’d gathered half a dozen eggs from the nest boxes into her wire basket, his long shadow stretched through the open door.
With a gleam in his eyes, he kicked the door shut behind him, took the basket from her hand and placed it on the floor, then pulled her into his arms. Carly reveled in the fierce hunger of his kiss. It spoke directly to her own starv- ing need for his touch, his scent, his taste.
By the time he left a few moments later, his chest la- boring as hard as hers to draw in air, neither of them had spoken a word. They didn’t need words. Not now. They only needed each other.
With trembling hands, Carly picked up her basket and bent to reach another egg in the bottom row of nest boxes.
The long shadow loomed again in the doorway. With a smile, Carly straightened and turned. “Back for more al- ready?”
But it wasn’t Tyler. It was Neal Walters, with a predatory look in his eyes that made the hair on the back of Carly’s neck stand on end.
He sauntered forward. “Can a man stand in line for some of what you’re passing out, or are you saving it all for the boss?”
Carly’s first instinct was to flee. Short of that, she longed to turn her back and hope he’d leave. But no, she was supposed to stand up for herself. Tyler had told her more than once that she didn’t have to let anyone hurt her or walk on her feelings.
Standing up to the Tomlinsons had been heady stuff. She still wasn’t very good at facing down Arthur, unless it had to do with Amanda, but Neal Walters was a different mat- ter. He was a hired hand, not her boss’s father or her charge’s grandfather. He’d been making snide, lewd com- ments for weeks and she was getting damned sick and tired of it
She stooped and picked up the egg she’d been after, then stood. Neal took the brief opportunity and stepped farther into the small building. When she turned back around he was practically on top of her.
“Back off, Neal. I’m not interested.”
He grinned and stepped closer. “You don’t mean that”.
Carry glanced down at the egg in her hand. With no further thought, she dropped it down the open collar of Neat’s shirt.
Neal’s eyes widened in shock, and an odd, strangling sound came from the back of his throat. The egg slid down inside his shirt until it stopped by his belt.
Carly gave him an exaggerated smile and batted her lashes. “Don’t mean it?” When her fist connected, the egg gave a satisfying crunch. “Why, of course I mean it”
Neal let out a cry and staggered back, glancing down in shocked disgust at the spot where his shirt was turning wet and gooey from the inside out. After a long moment, he raised his sickly, chagrined expression to her. “I, uh, think I get the message.
“Any problem in here?” In the doorway, just behind Neal, stood Tyler, legs spread, fists clenched at his sides, his fierce gaze boring a hole in the back of Neal’s head.
“Nope.” With a smug grin, Carly stepped around Neal and out the door. “No problem at all.”
The following Tuesday, the bubble of teasing anticipa- tion in which Carly and Tyler had been living burst under a cold blast of reality in the form of a process server who arrived during lunch.
Curious, Tyler took the papers meant for him and sat back down at the table to glance over them. Instant rage roared in his gut like wildfire on the open plains. “Son of a bitch.”
Arthur set his coffee cup down sharply. “What is it?”
“Son of a bitch.” Tyler stood so fast his chair fell over. “Damn them. Damn them to hell.”
Carly watched, stunned, as Tyler stomped out of the room, practically breathing fire with every step. A moment later a sharp oath rang out. The office door slammed so hard the kitchen window over the kitchen sink rattled.
The men hurriedly finished gulping down lunch and fled outdoors, sensing they didn’t want to be around to find out what had caused the eruption.
“Arthur?” Carly said hesitantly. “What in the world could be wrong?”
“I don’t know,” he answered grimly. “But I intend to find out.”
Carly swiftly cleaned up the dishes, then went to pace the living room, instinct telling her that Tyler’s initial re- action to the papers was only the beginning.
When the office door flew open a moment later and banged against the wall, Carly flinched.
Tyler stalked out, fire shooting from his eyes. Arthur followed swiftly. Tyler stopped before her, chest heaving, jaw flexing. “I have to go into Jackson Hole. I, damn, I want you with me, but I don’t want Amanda coming home to an empty house.”
“I’ll stay,” Arthur offered gruffly.
Tyler jerked his gaze to his father. “Will you?”
Arthur gave a sharp nod.
“Thanks.” Tyler grabbed Carly by the arm. “Let’s go.”
“What’s happened? Where are we going?”
They were in the pickup and all the way to the highway before Tyler spoke again. He hadn’t even given her time to grab her purse.
“We’re going to see my attorney in Jackson Hole. How- ard and Ear line are suing for custody of Amanda.”
Shocked, all Carly could do was stare at him with her mouth open for a long moment. “Good God.” Then, like a dawning light, she understood. Her palms broke out in sweat and her lunch rose to her throat. Without asking, she knew. This was because of her.
Chapter Fourteen
“Tell me they don’t stand a chance,” Tyler demanded.
His attorney, a short wiry man in his early forties named Bill Hendricks, gave Tyler back a steady look. “I’m not going to lie to you. Legally, morally, they don’t have a leg to stand on. But you and I both know that doesn’t stop men like Howard Tomlinson.”
“What do you mean?” Carly had been silent as long as she could. The grim looks the two men shared were scaring the daylights out of her. “If he doesn’t have a legal leg to stand on, why can’t you stop him?”
Hendricks glanced at Tyler. “She doesn’t know about him, does she?”
Tyler gave a weary sigh. “No.”
“Know what? Tell me,” Ca
rly demanded.
The attorney looked to Tyler for permission. After Ty- ler’s resigned nod, Hendricks tossed, his pen onto the desk and leaned back in his chair. “First of all, Howard Tom- linson’s got more money than Wyoming’s got sagebrush. If that isn’t enough, he’s a former United States senator and a former ambassador to the United Nations. He’s got a reputation for ruthlessness and probably has every cor- ruptible judge in the state of Illinois in his back pocket.”
With each of his words, the knots in Carry’s stomach twisted tighter. “What grounds is he stating?”
“He’s claiming Tyler is an unfit father.”
“What?” Carly bolted from her chair. “That’s the most outrageous thing I’ve ever heard! There is no better, more loving father in the world than Tyler.”
The two men shared another look. Carly swallowed heavily and dropped back to her seat. “This is about me, isn’t it? He thinks, among other things, that I’m not qual- ified to help Amanda, and he’s using that to get to Tyler.”
Hendricks kept his gaze on Tyler, who refused to look at her.
“One of you want to tell me what these ’other things’ are?” Hendricks asked. “Aside from his belief that Carly’s not qualified to counsel Amanda, is there something else going on?”
“No,” Tyler said curtly.
“Yes,” came Carry’s soft reply.
Hendricks arched a brow.
“Carly, don’t,” Tyler warned.
“He needs to know exactly what happened.” With her breath coming in shallow pants, her gaze lowered to her twisting fingers, and her cheeks flaming, Carly haltingly told the attorney about the Tomlinsons’ surprise visit. All of it.
Hendricks listened silently while Tyler closed his eyes and flexed his jaw.
When she finished, Carly buried her face in her hands. After a long moment of gathering her nerve, she raised her head. “Will it make a difference to the case if I leave?”
“No!” Tyler cried, his eyes wide and stunned.
Hendricks passed Carly a brief look of apology, then turned to Tyler. “You’re not paying me to agree with you, you’re paying me to tell you the truth. And the truth is, yes. It would severely undermine Tomlinson’s claims.”
Carly squeezed her eyes shut against the pain. “Well. I guess that settles that.”
“It settles nothing,” Tyler told her fiercely, his eyes fe- ver-bright. “Marry me. That will settle it.”
Carly reeled as though he’d slapped her. “No!”
Tyler flinched at her sharp cry. “Well, I guess that settles that,” he mimicked, his voice cracking slightly. “You didn’t even have to think about it, did you?”
“Think about it?” she cried, bewildered, and hurt— crushed. “What is there to think about? Everybody, and I mean everybody I’ve come in contact with since I came here—including your own father—thinks I’m after your money. My marrying you would, only confirm that. What good will that do in court?”
“When the hell are you going to stop worrying about what everyone else thinks?”
“When are you going to start?” she retorted. “What chance will you have in court when Tomlinson tells them about Blalock’s? He’ll find out, you know he will, and he’ll use it against you. I have to leave, Tyler. I won’t let you lose Amanda because of me.”
Tyler pushed himself from his chair and crossed to stare out the window. His raw curse filled the air.
Carly tried to swallow past the lump of pain in her throat, but couldn’t. Moisture trickled down her cheeks from the effort. “Tyler, I know you’d do anything to keep Amanda with you, but you’re not thinking straight. Marrying me is not the answer. My leaving will help you more than any- thing.”
After forcing an explanation about Blalock’s and the em- bezzlement, Hendricks stated he would contact the Tomlin- sons’ attorney, then get in touch with Tyler. From there, they would proceed.
The one thing Hendricks hadn’t done, Tyler kept remembering starkly all the way home, was to tell Carly she was wrong. That her leaving would not help his case. Nor had he sided with Tyler that her marrying him would be a better choice. The man had remained ominously silent. As silent as the long drive home.
The pickup’s headlights cut a swath across sagebrush and barbed wire as Tyler turned off the dirt highway onto the ranch road. His hands ached. He hadn’t relaxed his white- knuckled grip on the steering wheel for a single minute of the past two hours.
The fury in him over the Tomlinsons’ lawsuit had him hot one minute, icy cold the next. And if he were honest with himself, he was not only more angry than he’d ever been in his life, but he was scared. Terrified at the mere thought of losing Amanda. It couldn’t happen. He refused to believe they could take her away from him.
Then there was the pain, and another type of anger, this directed in equal shares at both Carly and himself. She was determined to leave. Nothing he’d said so far had swayed her. Maybe because he’d blown it big-time.
He rounded a low rise and stomped the brake pedal to the floor. “Dammit”. He threw the truck into Park and slammed his fist against the steering wheel. “I didn’t say it right, and I know my timing sucks, but my proposal was real, Carly. I want us to get married.” His words were the first spoken by either of them since leaving Jackson Hole, and he said them to the windshield, afraid to look at her where she sat hugging the door.
“You know we can’t,” she answered softly.
“I don’t know any such thing.”
“You need to be making peace with the Tomlinsons, placating them somehow, not flinging me in their faces.”
“Placating them?” he cried, finally facing her. “They barge in uninvited, insult you, upset Amanda, threaten me, and I’m supposed to placate them?”
“Yes!” She leaned toward him, spine straight, shoulders stiff, face ghostly pale in the green glow from the dash lights. “Apologize, grovel, do whatever you have to do to get them to back off. What’s more important, your, pride, or your daughter?”
“You know the answer to that, dammit. Amanda’s a thousand times more important. But what the hell kind of father will I be to her if I can’t look myself in the mirror? I can’t grovel, as you put it. In the first place, it wouldn’t do a damned bit of good. Tomlinson would eat it up and rub my face in it. In the second, I’d never be able to hold my head up again.”
She sat back and faced the windshield. “So your pride is more important.”
“The hell it is! I’m just not able to throw myself on the ground and let everybody that comes along walk all over me the way you do. I’ll never give Amanda up. I’ll fight them in every court in the country till the day I die. But I’ll do it with my head up.”
“That’s your choice, but you’ll get much better results without me in the picture.”
“Dammit, Carly, I don’t want you to leave.” Tyler wasn’t accustomed to panic, but he felt it now, wrapping its claws around his throat, squeezing off his breath. “Don’t walk out on me now. Not now.”
She wrapped her arms around her stomach. “I have to, don’t you see?” Her voice cracked with emotion.
“No.” He reached across the cab and pulled her to him. “All I see is how much I need you,” he told her fiercely.
There was no gentleness in his kiss. He was too desper- ate, too close to the edge for that. Urgency clawed at him, making his heart pound, his hands shake. “God, don’t leave me, Carly.”
She tore her mouth free and held his face in both hands. “Think,” she cried. “Think, Tyler. How long would you be able to stand the sideways looks and snide comments from your friends and family if you married me? How long before the taunts reached Amanda’s ears?”
“I don’t care. It won’t happen. Everyone will see how much you love me. And you do, I know you do, or you would never have let me get close to you. I don’t care what anybody else thinks.”
“But you would,” she cried. “You’d get angry and de- fensive, and before long you’d despis
e me for costing you your friends, for coming between you and your family.”
“You’re wrong,” he swore fiercely, feeling her slip away.
“I’m not.” A quiet sob broke from her throat and pierced his heart. “You know I’m not”
He would change her mind. He had to. He would burn away her doubts and insecurities. She hadn’t denied she loved him. He knew she couldn’t. “I love you,” he told her in a voice strained with emotion. “I won’t let you go.”
He pulled her hard against his chest, and Carly gasped. His mouth covered hers. No teasing nips—there had rarely been such things between them when they kissed, but this time was different, even harder, more desperate than ever.
He fumbled with her jeans, and in a heated frenzy, she helped him tug them and a shoe off to free one leg. Frantic for the feel of him filling the aching void inside her, Carly reached for his belt Her fingers shook so hard he had to help her.
Without apology—she didn’t need one; she was as des- perate as he—he lifted her astride his hips and buried him- self in her depths with one powerful thrust that took her breath away.
What happened between them, there on the dusty seat of the old pickup, was wild and hot and fierce. He grasped her hips and helped her move against him, faster and harder, thrusting to meet her, and it had very little to do with lust.
This stormy passion had nothing to do with mating or recreational sex or even making love. What held them in its grip so fiercely was sheer need. Raw, primitive desper- ation. The need to hold on to each other as long as possible, knowing the end of their time together was near. The need to shut out the world, make the darkness go away. The need to stave off until the last possible moment the stark lone- liness that both knew if Carly had her way, would soon envelop them each in separate prisons of bleak isolation and never let them go.
Carly felt the exquisite tension grip her and build until she cried out in the violent throes of fulfillment.
Tyler pushed himself against her, as deeply inside her as he could go, and triumphed in the feel of her shattering release. In watching her, the way she threw her head back, arching her slender neck. In hearing his name on her lips like a prayer, a curse. Feeling her fingers dig into his shoul- ders; her thighs, one still covered in denim, squeeze against his; her inner convulsions. He even relished the tears on her cheeks, because they told him how much she cared.
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