He hated seeing her head bowed in defeat. He called to her again, almost afraid to touch her. She suddenly seemed vulnerable, swaying like a slim, delicate blade of grass, but sealed off in a place that he could not reach.
Kee’s emotions ran a swift gamut from fear to anger edged by more than concern for her, more than caring for a woman alone fighting against too many. And what he was feeling scared him.
“Isabel?” His voice was harsh, not at all what he wanted. Suddenly he understood a little of what scared him. He needed to hold her, to drink in the scent of her, he had to know that she believed herself safe with him. The why and how of the importance of these feelings didn’t matter to him. They were there. He felt them.
“It’s Kee, Isabel,” he whispered and took a step closer. “No one is going to hurt you. Not while I’m around.” She didn’t seem to hear him. Kee shoved back the brim of his black, flat-brimmed hat.
“Hey, lovely lady, do you hear me?” She made a soft sound, but it made no sense to him. He reached for her arm and she backed away. “That’s it! Don’t move, Isabel. I’m damn well not going to hurt you!” He was shouting and didn’t care.
She flung her head back, revealing the taut line of her slender neck and then her gaze fastened on his face. She closed her eyes for a few seconds. Her silent prayers had been answered. Then she looked at him.
“Kee? I thought—”
“I’ve been trying to tell you—”
“You don’t know how I feared—”
“What in tarnation—”
Isabel silenced him by throwing herself at him. She grabbed hold of his shirt with both hands. “Kee! Listen! I was so afraid. They have set a trap for you. You must ride away. She is out of her mind. She killed my horse, Kee. My beautiful golden mare. She hates me. I do not know her anymore.” Sobs threatened. Her fingers dug hard into him. She was shaking, saw his mouth move, but she could not hear him. “She promised to kill you. You—”
“Hush!” Harsh still as his own fear reigned, then he found softness. “Hush, Isabel, it’s all right.” He hugged her tight, fighting off the wave of pain from his wound. He rocked her with his body.
“I’ll get you another horse. I know it won’t be the same. But I’m glad it wasn’t you. I managed to learn a little from Muley.” She tried to pull away then, but he held her fast. “I need this. I need to hold you.”
There was such a rightness to this, holding her, feeding each other warmth. The fear and tension in him dissolved. Her heated breath seeped through the cloth of his shirt, and with it, came the hot wetness of her tears. He felt the slow hammering of his own pulse, the race of blood building when she whispered his name and pressed harder with a stir of her body so hungry desire flared to life.
A little voice of sanity whispered this was not the time or the place to satisfy his need.
With his fingers entangled in her silken hair, he tried telling himself to be thankful they had both escaped.
But words of thanks fled from his mind with the feel of her hardened nipples pressed against his chest. He tried telling himself that she was unaware of the invitation of her body, that every sigh, every snuggling move closer to him was only a woman seeking comfort.
But Kee was only flesh and blood and not a saint. He could tell himself all the right things from hell and gone, and they didn’t hold a candle to the hunger Isabel ignited.
“Kee, oh, Kee,” she moaned against his chest. “They want to kill you. She believes I told you where the gold is. She will not allow you to live.”
Those words acted like a dash of cold water. Not enough to put out the fire, but enough to bring it to simmer.
“I do not want her to kill you, Kee. I will not let her kill you.”
The way she clung to him, he knew she believed that. It didn’t go halfway to explaining why she had taken off on her own, but he figured that question could wait.
There was one that couldn’t. “What happened to Alf?”
“I hit him with a rock. He was not dead when I left him, but he was bleeding.”
“Listen to me now.” He tried to set her away, but she held him fast. “We need to get out of here. I’ve got their horses so no one is going to follow us easily.”
He ran his hands down her back, intending to reassure her. But as his daddy told him many a time, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
Kee rested his hands on her slim hips and pulled her tight against him. He made no apology for his aroused state and Isabel would need to be dead not to know it.
She looked up at him, her dark eyes holding his and Kee could no more stop himself from claiming her lips than he could stop breathing at that moment.
Kindling and match.
The taste of her ignited a fire that burned down to blood and bone. Sweetly given, her mouth was his with all its womanly promise and the soft, soft sounds she made drove him wild.
Wild. The thought, the taste of Kee, the feeling streaked through Isabel. She had his scent, the ones she had marked without knowing, of leather and horse, of smoke and sage, of power and passion. All very masculine. All intriguing. All Kee Kincaid. And very heady to a young woman tasting the first bite of desire.
The involuntary tremors of arousal began and quickly shattered the hard shell she had built so carefully over the years. The heat and strength of him was intoxicating.
He stole all rational thought with the seductive ply of his mouth against hers. He held her head between his large hands, but there was no fear with him. Kee would never force her to give more than she wanted to give. The belief, so strong it shocked her, was there, rooted deep inside. The softness of his lips wooed her as he skimmed her mouth, pressing tiny kisses to the corners, using the edge of his teeth to send shimmering sensations rioting through her. He teased her into needing more. She shivered when his fingertips rubbed the delicate skin just behind her ears.
A sudden stillness filled her. She was on the edge of a cliff, afraid to move, almost afraid to draw breath and lose the glimmering anticipation that trembled to life.
Molded from knee to chest, sealed with heat and hard-pounding pulses. She felt the softening of her body, the need to give to this one man all that she had, all that she was, and would be. She knew nothing of men. No man had ever kissed her like this, or held her against a body so hard, the only giving softness to be found were his lips. Her breasts swelled, heavy with wanting. Her hands slid upward, knocking off his hat as she drew his head down.
“Open your mouth, Isabel. Yes, sweet lady, just like that.”
His dark whisper. Her own helpless response. Then his mouth claimed hers in a kiss that told of hunger, of dark and heated passions. Dangerous. Like the night, he called all that was dark, forbidding and unknown from her.
Isabel ignored the warning that tried whispering to her. It held no place in this dizzying longing to answer the hunger in him. Every place their bodies touched was hot, sharp and soft, pulsing with life. She was shocked by the trembling that seized her and the flood of warmth that followed a soft, deep explosion that rocked through her.
She was overpowered by the storm that assaulted her. Too many sensations rushing through her at once. No time to savor, to understand why the heated thrust of his tongue sweeping her mouth intensified the shivers that began so deep inside her. Or why she followed the silent coaxing he offered to tutor her to do the same to him. In a small corner of her mind she tucked away the knowledge that she brought a shudder to his body with the tentative play she made. Womanly power. A heady wine to drink from Kee’s lips.
And she wanted more.
But Kee tore free of the kiss. His breath sawed in and out as if he’d been running a long way. His body hard with need, he shook for a few seconds, battling to get some control back. He slipped his hands to her shoulders and roughly held her away from him.
“Hot enough to scald a man and have him not give a hoot. Sweet and giving. Enough to make a man crazy,” he whispered more to himself than to her.
The moon’s bright light revealed her dazed look.
“Sweet purgatory, woman. You don’t even know what the hell you’ve done to me.” Crazy. That’s what he was. Standing like some greenhorn in the middle of nowhere with gunmen hunting their hides, and him barely able to keep his pants buttoned. And she didn’t know. The look of her…Kee closed his eyes briefly, shuddered and fought to wipe out the taste of her, the feel of…No!
“We’ve got to get out of here. Now.”
The words were bitten off, and suiting action to them, he lifted her up to the mustang’s back.
Isabel could barely speak. She did not understand what had happened. She reached for his arm and he jerked away from her. Hurt filled her.
“Why, Kee?”
“Why?” The word was choked. Innocence shone from her eyes, but his gaze slid down to her mouth, reddened from his lips, slightly swollen and parted as if she waited for another kiss. The image of taking her beneath him, right here, right now, surfaced and with it came a rush of anger.
Cold and hard, his voice lashed her. “If you need to ask you’re too damn innocent to be out here alone without a dozen men to protect you. Stay away from me. I’m no damn saint. I’ll take what I’m offered. And lady, you offered it all. You never said no. You never even tried.”
She thought about defending herself. She could plead that fear had turned to thanks that he was alive, that they were together. She should tell him the truth. She never wanted a man to kiss her like this, or hold her, or be willing to follow where he led, despite all the teachings that it was wrong outside of marriage. There were many things she could tell him, but she bit her lip and kept silent. And shivered in the aftermath of the passion he stirred to life.
“That horse you rode is done for. We’ll leave him. Now scoot back so I can mount.”
But Isabel was still gripped by the turbulence of her emotions and Kee’s anger. She moved all right; she heard the command in his voice that brooked no arguing. But she moved forward, her hands clenched around the saddle horn in her desperate need to hold on to something solid. Because of Kee. Because of the dizzying world he had shown her. And just as abruptly torn away.
Kee knew he made a mistake to ignore her move the moment he settled in behind her. He was so hard he ached and his body accommodated hers like a glove to hand.
He wanted to turn her around and ride the night with his flesh joined to hers.
Innocent!
He might not trust her completely, but he had to trust his own senses. He didn’t want to. He didn’t want to calm down and think with logic. He wanted her. Isabel. All sighing passion and…No!
The devil, he thought, had all different ways of riding with a man. But that old Beelzebub knew the true tempting of a man. A black-haired, blue-eyed witch, all virginal passion. A slim-hipped handmaid who made his flesh ache.
And in the battle not to be outdone, the good Lord gave Kee a conscience, with a sharp pitchfork’s worth of pricking to ride along with him.
Isabel trusted him. He had sworn to her that nothing would hurt her. Well, hell, he told himself, he didn’t want to hurt her, he just wanted to bed that body rubbing against his until he needed to climb out of his skin.
Trust, Kee, remember.
Yeah, he remembered.
“You stiffen up anymore, lady and you’ll break. You don’t want that,” he coldly reminded her. “You don’t want that at all. I’d have to put my hands on you then, and there’ll be the devil to pay if I do.”
His coldness cut through the web of numbness that she surrounded herself with.
“Do not worry, Kee. I will not break. And the devil is already collecting his due.”
“How’s that?”
“He let me find you,” she snapped. Only he will not let me keep you, Kee.
“True enough, lady. Guess that works both ways.” He spoke the words but he didn’t believe them. He wasn’t going to leave her alone to face what that other witch had in store. He couldn’t live with himself if he did.
So riding with her bottom snug in his lap was killing him by inches. There were worse ways to die. And he fanned his anger to keep her safe. How else could he protect her from this need she stirred to flame?
All Kee heard was silence in answer.
Chapter Twelve
Nearly an hour later Kee stopped long enough to put Isabel up on one of the horses he had taken. He rode the other, giving Outlaw a rest.
He forced himself to stop thinking about Isabel and the heated length of her slim body pressed against his. No time. No place. Belatedly, he remembered the night-hunting snakes. The deadly coral, and the spotted night snake. Kee couldn’t stop an inner shudder. He hated snakes. Just recalling how someone tried to kill his uncle Conner by locking him in his own jail cell with a sackful of rattlesnakes was enough to make his stomach muscles clench and taste bile.
He pushed the horses hard, riding through the night with the moonlight to guide him. Twice he rode back to ask Isabel if she could go on, and twice she roused herself to mumble that she could keep up with him. He doubted that, but accepted her word.
Kee wanted to put distance between them and the bullet marked with his name.
And he refused to lose Isabel again.
She caught his twisting move to look back at her again. She forced herself to sit up, but the moment he faced front, she slumped down in the saddle. Exhaustion had wiped out all thought. She had no reserves left to fight it off. In a way this numbing fatigue was a good thing. She could not think about Kee or his kisses or how he made her feel. She would not have to remember his sudden anger. She should not recall the warmth of him.
By the dip and sway of the saddle she knew they had been climbing steadily for some time. Dawn blanketed the land when Kee called a halt. Isabel barely roused herself to look around. Her eyes burned as if she’d collected the sand of the desert in them. She was tired, hungry and thirsty, and no closer to her goal. She saw Kee dismount, but she was not getting off this horse unless he planned to camp in this desolate spot. She knew she could never climb back on the horse if he only meant to rest for a few minutes.
Kee barely spared her a glance. It was the only way he could keep himself moving. If he allowed the concern and sympathy he felt for her to surface, they would never get down the trail.
And as he walked off and rounded a boulder that was nearly twice his height, he knew this was a killer trail.
Isabel grew alarmed as minutes passed and Kee did not return. The horses were bunched together on their lead rope so she could not ride past them.
Clinging to the saddle horn with her left hand, she forced the screaming muscles of her right leg in a wide swing over the horse’s rump. She grabbed hold of the raised back edge of the saddle seat and hung suspended for a moment until she kicked her left foot free of the stirrup. All she wanted to do was collapse in a heap on the ground. Instead she leaned her weight against the horse, telling herself she had to move, had to find Kee.
The intense heat of his body warned her he was near before she saw him. A shiver passed through her. She had not heard a sound.
“Must you sneak up on me?” she snapped, pressing her head against the saddle.
“I see that riding all night didn’t curb your tongue any, lady.”
“You curb a horse, Kincaid, not a woman.”
“Well, I guess that depends on the man.”
Isabel dragged her head up and stared at him.
“You can tell a lot about a man by the way he handles his horse.”
“Can you?”
“Sure.”
She wanted to wipe that cocky grin from his lips, but the action was beyond her. She shook her head. “I think you have something mixed up, Kincaid. The way a man handles a horse has nothing to do with how he treats a woman.”
“Wanna bet?”
The way he stood there off to one side, his hands planted on lean hips, long powerful legs spread apart, and those eyes watching her every breath
made Isabel want to do something violent. He confused her. And she was too tired to battle with him. But he waited for an answer. She could see that in his eyes. Baiting him in turn was tempting. She strove for dignity.
“I will not make such a bet. I would not want to see any man handle a woman. I would never allow a man to handle me.” She almost spat the word at him.
Kee smiled at the flare of temper in her eyes and inched the brim of his hat back. Anything was better than the dull dazed look she had when he first came near.
“But you already did, Isabel. Remember?”
“I wish to forget. I will forget.” The words were mere whispers. The curl of heated awareness surged deep inside her. For she could not forget. She wanted Kee to hold her, to kiss her like a storm, wild and furious without end.
“Why have we stopped here?” she asked in an effort to distract herself from the sensual turn of her thoughts.
“We need more light before heading down this trail. I want to switch that saddle to Outlaw. You’ll be riding him.”
Some vague alarm made Isabel look around then back at Kee’s face. He gave nothing away, but she sensed he was not telling her something important.
“Where is this trail?”
He stopped her attempt to go around him by moving in front of her.
“Let me by. I want to see it.”
“Don’t go all contrary on me, Isabel. You’ve trusted me to get us this far. Trust me all the way.”
She heard the words, and knew he meant the long ride through the night, or thought she did. His serious mien, the darkness of his eyes, all silently spoke of another trust that a woman gives to a man. All the rigid bands that had governed her life fell away. She almost murmured yes to him. Some barb of pride held her silent.
“Let me see the trail for myself, Kee.”
“And I’m just to obey?”
“Yes.”
She never saw his smile as he turned his back on her. That arrogant pride he had first encountered was back. Maybe not as strong as it had been, but she had shaken off the stupor that had cloaked her through the night.
Once a Hero Page 10