by R. C. Ryan
Quinn’s voice was low. “Do you think he’s capable of this kind of violence, Everett?”
The chief shrugged. “Hard to believe that any man who’s grown up on a ranch could do something like that to helpless animals. But right now he’s my prime suspect, and he’d better have an airtight alibi.”
As the chief drove away, Quinn turned to find Micah and Austin standing alongside Wes and Cheyenne.
She looked so defeated, Quinn couldn’t help wrapping his arms around her and holding her close. At his obvious sign of affection the men stared at the two of them in stunned silence. At the moment, Quinn didn’t care if the whole world was watching. He just wanted to offer her a measure of comfort.
Against her temple he muttered, “You okay?”
She stood very still, grateful for the strength of his arms. “I feel… numb.”
“Yeah.” He looked over her head to where the others were standing and watching them with rapt interest. “I’m going to take her home now.”
Austin shot him a look. “Hey, man. This is her home.”
Quinn ignored him to speak directly to Cheyenne. “You’re in no shape to drive. Give me your keys.”
Without a word she dug into her pocket and handed them over.
Quinn helped her up to the passenger side before rounding the truck and climbing up to the driver’s side.
With a salute to the others, he put the truck in gear and drove away.
As they started along the highway he shot a look at Cheyenne, her head turned away, the backs of her hands covering her eyes, as if to blot out all thought.
They drove in complete silence.
A short time later he muttered an oath and veered off the highway onto a narrow dirt road.
Cheyenne pulled herself back from her dark thoughts and turned to him with a look of alarm. “What’re you doing?”
He didn’t reply as the truck began climbing through a heavily forested area.
She leaned back and closed her eyes, trying to get the scene of carnage out of her mind. It was impossible. “Oh, Quinn. All I can see is that burial pit and the mutilated corpses of newborn calves. What sort of madman could do such a cruel, savage thing?”
“I wish I knew.”
“I’m feeling overwhelmed. The way I did when Buddy…” Her lips trembled and she couldn’t say the word.
She took in a deep breath. “And then, just a year later, my father. It was too much. I felt as though my entire life was spiraling out of control, and there wasn’t a thing I could do but hang on.”
She reached out a hand and Quinn curled his fingers around hers.
“There were so many days after that when it seemed too much to bear. The pain. The sadness. The emptiness of my life without them. It was all too much. And now, I’m feeling that way again. Like I’m drowning, and there’s nobody there to throw me a lifeline.”
“I’m here, Cheyenne.”
“I know. And I’m so grateful.” She clung to his hand.
The truck jolted to a halt, causing her to look up in surprise.
They were high in the hills, parked alongside a small log cabin.
“What…?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute.” Quinn unfastened his seat belt, stepped down, and rounded the truck to open her door.
Taking her hand, he led her inside. “I’ll start a fire.”
He left her to stare around with interest as he crossed to the fireplace and knelt, holding a match to kindling.
There was a fully equipped kitchen, with a stove and microwave and a rough-hewn table and two chairs. Across the room was an enormous four-poster bed made of logs and covered with a blanket that bore intricate Arapaho designs. A stone fireplace dominated one wall. Beside it, on handmade wooden shelves, stood a number of leather-bound books, binoculars, camera equipment.
When a fire blazed on the hearth, Quinn stood to wipe his hands on his pants, before turning to her. “Welcome to my place.”
“Yours?”
He nodded. “I built it years ago. I’d originally intended it as a simple shack. A place to watch wildlife from the safety and comfort of a small, natural building in the forest and record in my journal. Then I decided to enlarge it and make it my home away from home. Whenever I need a refuge, a spot to get away from the world, I come here. It’s my thinking place. My private place.” He stepped close and caught her hand. “My healing place.”
He looked down at their linked hands. “I’ve never brought anyone here before, but I thought maybe you could use a little healing of your own.”
She felt her heart swell with emotion. “Thank you, Quinn. I’m… honored.”
He lifted his palm to her cheek. “You’re welcome. You can stay here as long as you’d like.”
When he started to turn away, she tugged on his hand. “Where are you going?”
“I thought I’d give you some privacy. I understand your need to be alone. Consider this your own private retreat.”
She looked into his eyes, narrowed on her with such fierce concentration her heart actually skipped a beat before starting to race.
Without a word she stood on tiptoe to press her mouth to his.
Against his mouth she whispered, “I don’t want you to go. I want you to stay here with me.”
“I don’t think that would be wise.” He took a half step back, as though unsure just what she was implying.
“I don’t know about wise, but I’m tired of trying to be strong and smart and cautious, Quinn. Right now, all I want is for you to hold me.”
His eyes narrowed on her. “I’m not sure I can do that.”
Seeing her look of surprise, he added, “I doubt I can hold you and not want to do more.”
“Ah.” She suddenly smiled. “Well, then, I suggest you start with holding me, and we’ll see what that leads to.”
It was his turn to look surprised. “I don’t think you under—”
She touched a finger to his lips. Just a touch, but the heat generated by it was enough to ignite a forest fire.
When he saw the half smile in her eyes, his lips curved into a sexy, dangerous grin. “Well, now, I guess a gentleman should always accommodate a lady.”
And then there was no need for words as he dragged her close. His mouth closed over hers with such heat they both felt seared by it.
At long last all pretence fell away as they gave themselves over to an all-consuming need.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dear God, Cheyenne.”
His mouth crushed hers with a fierceness that left her gasping. If she’d expected tenderness, she was mistaken. Instead she discovered a desperate passion that ignited her own, until she returned his kisses with a fever that matched his.
“Wait.” He shrugged out of his parka and tore hers aside like a man possessed.
Too impatient to bother with the buttons of her shirt, he caught the lapels and tore it from her, shredding the fabric. Laughing, she kicked aside her boots and jeans, while he did the same.
Before he could finish unbuttoning his plaid shirt she had her hands on him, sliding them up and under the fabric to run her fingertips over the flat planes of his stomach and the taut muscles of his torso. She sighed from the sheer pleasure of it.
The touch of her hands on his naked flesh sent his heart into overdrive. The more she touched him, the more impossible it became to slow the madness.
Beneath her rough shirt she wore lace. Pale, nude lace.
At any other time he might have paused to enjoy the contrast of the lace beneath rough denim. Now all he could think of was tearing even that last thin barrier aside. He was frantic to see her. All of her.
He ripped aside the lace, and for the space of a heartbeat all he could do was stare.
“God, you’re so beautiful. So perfect.”
On a sigh his fingers dug into the tender skin of her upper arms as he dragged her close. He nearly lifted her off her feet while he savaged her mouth like a man starved for the taste of her.
He was a glutton, wanting to devour her in one quick bite. He knew he ought to slow down, but he’d waited so long. So long. And now what had started out to be a simple gesture of comfort had become so much more.
Hadn’t he known that once he had her alone, this would happen?
Since he’d first seen her, she’d been this burning fever in his blood. Like the wolves he’d studied through the years, the need for her had taken on a life of its own. A driving force that was out of control. Nothing could satisfy the hunger for her except this. Only this.
She added to the fever by giving a low moan of pleasure before digging her fingers into his hair and cupping his head, driving him closer for an eager, avid kiss.
With a savage oath he drove her back against the rough wall and lifted her until her legs were wrapped around him. And all the while he was kissing her, touching her at will, driving them both so high, so fast, needs exploded through them, tearing the last threads of control, threatening to burn them to ash.
Instead of the soft words of love and whispered promises that he’d planned, he was in the grip of a deep, dark passion that had spun completely out of control. More than mere passion, this thing that had him in its grasp was a firestorm of such turbulence, all he could do was ride it to its conclusion.
His lips left hers to nuzzle her throat. She threw back her head, giving him easier access. The feel of all that soft flesh, his for the tasting, brought the most amazing pleasure.
When his mouth closed over her breast she gasped and clutched his head. He gave her no time to breathe as he moved from one erect nipple to the other until she moaned and writhed and cried out in a fever of need.
“Quinn. Please—”
He cut off her words with a kiss that spoke of hunger, of loneliness, of desperation. And thrilled when she returned his kisses with the same fervor.
He continued kissing her until they were both gasping for air.
His fingers found her, hot and wet, and he brought her to the first sudden, shattering peak. Before she could get her bearings, he took her up and over again.
With their breathing harsh and ragged, the heat rose up between them, leaving their bodies slick with sheen.
Quinn was desperate to end this madness. But not just yet. One more honeyed taste. One more touch of the perfect body that was his to explore now at will.
The world beyond the cabin slipped away. The cares of the world, the endless ranch chores, the danger lying in wait for them, all were forgotten.
Here there was only the sweetest of pleasures. Here, caught in a storm of their own making, they embraced it.
The wind sighed in the trees, but the two people locked in one hot, hungry kiss heard only the sound of their own ragged breathing and the thundering of their two hearts. Birds sang outside the window, but they were unaware of anything except each seductive touch, each heady taste, and the dark, musky scent of passion. It clouded their vision. Clogged their throats. Drove them to the brink of insanity. And still they clung together, seeking relief yet keeping it just out of reach.
Quinn knew he’d slipped over the edge. He wanted desperately to slow down and savor. To stop the madness. But the need for her had become a wildfire that was out of control, scorching everything in its path, and he was being consumed by it.
“Cheyenne, look at me.” He gripped her by the shoulders, his eyes fierce, his voice little more than a whisper.
She looked into his eyes, seeing herself reflected there.
“I’ve wanted you for so long. So long,” he managed as he entered her and thrust deeply.
“Quinn, I…” The feelings were too intense to put into words.
Instead, as he drove her to the very edge of sanity, she showed him the only way she could, moving with him, climbing with him.
He whispered her name, over and over like a litany, as they stepped into the very eye of the storm until, together, they were swept into the maelstrom.
“You all right?” Quinn leaned against Cheyenne, his forehead pressed to hers.
She was grateful for his strength. She was feeling weightless, boneless. Without his support, she would surely drop to the floor like a dishrag.
“Fine.” It was the only word she could manage over the lump in her throat.
Because she wanted to weep, she blinked rapidly and swallowed down the tears that threatened to choke her.
He lifted a hand to her face and stared into her eyes. He pressed his lips to the corner of her eye, kissing away the tiny drop of moisture. “You’re so beautiful.”
“So are you.”
That had him smiling. “I’ve been called a lot of things in my life, but never beautiful.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck, anchoring herself to him. “Then you haven’t looked in a mirror. I think you’re beautiful, Quinn.”
“And I think you’re amazing.” He leaned in to run hot, wet kisses from the corner of her eye to her cheek, and then to the corner of her mouth. “You absolutely take my breath away.”
“I guess we’re just a mutual admiration society.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Yeah. That’s us.” He shifted and drew her a little away. “Sorry about being so rough.”
“That’s all right.” She laughed, a clear, musical sound. “I’ll let you pick the splinters out of my backside later.”
“It would be my pleasure.” He scooped her up into his arms and headed across the room, where he laid her gently on the big rustic bed.
The mattress, she realized, was unbelievably soft.
As he stretched out beside her he drew her close. Against her temple he whispered, “Let me make it up to you.”
“How?”
“By spending the rest of the day making slow, lazy love with you.”
“Why, Mr. Conway, despite your single-mindedness, you do have a way about you.”
“You don’t mind, Ms. O’Brien?”
“As long as we have this big old bed, I think we ought to make use of it. But this time, I hope you’ll take the time to whisper sweet nothings in my ear.”
With a laugh he leaned close to whisper, “I’ll do better than nothings. How about sweet somethings?”
“I can deal with that.”
“All right. Let me start with this.” He traced a finger along the slope of her shoulder. “That night we first met…”
“The night you wanted to skin me alive?”
He chuckled. “I guess I did come off like an old Western gunslinger.”
“Or an avenging angel.”
“Whatever.” He continued tracing the line of her arm. “Even in the middle of all that anger, I remember being so surprised by you.”
“You were expecting an irate, tobacco-chewing rancher who hated the reintroduction of wolves into Wyoming territory? And instead you got a very tired rancher who just wanted to get in out of the snowstorm.”
He nodded. “But you proved to be so much more. The more I could see, the more I realized that you’re able to do the work of half a dozen men all on your own, and doing a damned fine job of it, I might add.”
Flushed with pleasure, she decided to keep things light. “Ah, shucks, you’re just saying that to keep me in this bed.”
He threw back his head and roared, “You got that right.” He bent low and brushed a quick kiss over her lips. “I’ve been wanting you in my bed since that first night.”
“Really?” She fluttered her lashes. “Because I’m such a raving beauty while mucking stalls?”
“There is that.” He grinned. “And there’s the way you fill out a pair of jeans. I do admire a woman who can wear faded denims and an old work shirt and still manage to look sexy.”
Her eyes danced with amusement. “You think I’m sexy?”
“Sexy as hell.” He dragged her close and growled against her lips, “As if you don’t know it.”
She placed a hand on his chest and could feel the wild thundering of his heart. “Are you just coming back down to eart
h? Or are you already planning the next flying lesson?”
“Baby, you just say the word and I’ll be happy to take you flying.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and drew his head down. “Quinn Conway, I believe I’m just going to lay back now and allow you to have your way with me.”
They were both laughing as he levered himself above her and pressed hot, wet kisses down her throat and across her shoulder.
Minutes later their laughter turned to sighs of pleasure as they took each other on a slow, easy ride to paradise.
“You comfortable?” Quinn drew the blanket around Cheyenne’s shoulder.
“Mmmm.”
“I’ll take that for a yes.” He slid into bed beside her. He’d added another log to the fire, and the flames hissed and snapped, filling the cabin with the fragrance of evergreen and woodsmoke.
She plumped the pillows and snuggled closer to him. “I like your place.”
“I’m glad.”
“Does the land belong to your family?”
“To me. Big Jim gave it to me on my twenty-first birthday. He wanted each of us to have our own, so that we’d have a sense of pride in ownership.”
“That’s really generous of him.”
“He’s a generous guy. But he also let me know that I’d earned it. I’ve been working this land since I was old enough to hold a pitchfork. I was driving a tractor before I was old enough to drive a car. Big Jim admires anyone willing to work hard to get what they want.” Quinn brushed his mouth over hers. “That’s why he thinks so highly of you.”
“He does? How would you know that?”
“He said so.”
“He did? Because I work hard?”
“Because you enjoy your work.”
Cheyenne felt a warm glow at his words. “I really do. I can’t imagine doing anything else with my life except ranching.” She glanced around. “Did you do all the work here yourself?”
“Yeah. At first I just wanted something simple where I could store my gear while I was out on the trail. But then I decided that I wanted more. My own private retreat, where I could be comfortable spending as much time as I wanted.” He looked around with pride. “It took me years to finish, but it was worth it.”