Heiress Beware

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Heiress Beware Page 11

by Charlene Sands


  Jane’s legs nearly buckled, her body weakening at his touch. She rested against him, arching up, and Mac groaned, tightening his hold on her, rubbing her skin more fervently now.

  He roamed over her body, splaying his hands, sizing her up, his fingers exploring every inch of her. With one palm on her belly, he let the other slide lower, and Jane felt a burning warmth between her thighs. Raw heat coursed through her, and when Mac finally found her core, cupping her, she moaned with relief, letting out a little gasp.

  Mac kissed her neck again, moistening her skin with his tongue, while he continued to stroke her. Her body instinctively moved, and they swayed together as he continued his ministrations. His fingers parted her skin, and he found her center. Electric sparks flew, her body picking up the rhythm of his strokes. Her release building, Jane gave in, letting herself go. She moved without thought, without shame. Mac urged her from behind with sweet, sexy words that she felt more than heard.

  Her climax exploded, shattering her and making every sensation become more vivid, more intense. Her pleasure heightened, but the love she felt for Mac wedged its way even deeper into her heart.

  She collapsed against him, letting him hold her as she slowly recovered.

  Outside, she heard the trees rustling and birds chirping, but inside, she heard only the beating of her heart.

  Mac waited patiently, holding her without saying a word, as if he knew she needed this time. And when she was ready, she turned to face him.

  His eyes sharpened on her, the brown nearly black and his expression unguarded, open. “I need you inside me now,” she said, whispering the same words he had said to her last night.

  Mac smiled as he dug into his pocket, then removed a handful of condoms. He tossed them onto the nightstand. Jane took one glance and grinned.

  She lay down on the bed and waited. Mac undressed in front of her, his body gleaming and more than ready. He came down beside her.

  “I want to know all of you,” she said boldly, reaching for him.

  Mac groaned as she took him in her hand. “I’ve always liked a woman with a thirst for knowledge.”

  “Really?” Jane’s own voice was husky now. Unmercifully, she stroked the silky length of him. “Then relax and enjoy the ride, Mac. ’Cause there’s a lot I want to learn.”

  Nine

  Jane stroked Daisy Mae’s mane, the coarse hair sliding beneath her palms. “Hi there, Daisy Mae. You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?”

  The mare nuzzled her throat in response, seemingly happy to be out of the stable and in the fresh late-afternoon air.

  “Careful,” Mac said, “she’s good-natured, but she doesn’t know you yet.”

  Jane smiled. “I think we’re going to be friends.”

  Mac stared at her for a moment, then nodded. “She’s a chestnut quarter horse. Workhorses back in the Old West, but now she’s got it soft.”

  Jane glanced at the ink-black horse that stood alongside Mac, nudging him occasionally for attention. “What about Duke?”

  “Duke’s a gelding quarter and a great guy.” Mac stroked the horse’s snout with tender care, much like he’d made love to Jane, just an hour ago. For all his gruff ways, Jane couldn’t miss the gentle side to Sheriff Mac Riggs. He was hard as steel when he had to be, but Jane had seen his tender side, and both facets of the man fascinated her.

  “Want to give it a try?” Mac said, gesturing toward the two saddles in a paddock to her right.

  “Sure. As long as you take it slow.”

  He nodded and cast her one of his killer smiles. “I can do that.”

  Heat crawled up her neck. Jane remembered how well Mac could take it slow. So much so that her breath hitched as she recalled how controlled, how incredibly restrained Mac could be, just to ensure her own pleasure. “Okay, then.”

  Mac saddled both horses, giving her quick directions. “Mount from the left, hold the reins loose, but with enough tension to let Daisy know you’re in control.” He ran his hand along Jane’s upper thigh, the simple touch enough to make her heart race. “Use this part of your body to lean in and let her know which way you want to turn. Horses understand body language. Don’t solely rely on the reins.”

  Jane nodded, peering up into his dark eyes. “Okay, I think I’ve got it.”

  Mac helped her mount, handed her the reins and looked up at her. “Don’t let Daisy know you’re worried. Ride with confidence. I’ve got your back, Jane. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Jane let out the breath she’d been holding. For all she knew, this was the first time she’d ever been atop a horse. “I trust you, Mac.”

  His brows rose and something powerful flashed in his eyes. “Okay, here we go.”

  Mac mounted Duke, and Jane was amazed at how much taller he sat on his horse. She pictured him as a sheriff in the Old West, ready to lead a posse out on the range to capture a villain. Silently she laughed at the thought, but her amusement caught his eye.

  “What?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s just that you look like you belong here, Mac. This place suits you.”

  He leaned over and kissed her quickly, the familiar warmth of his lips sending her heart racing again. “Let’s go.”

  Mac led the way, and Daisy seemed to follow Duke without any help from Jane. Before long, Jane forgot that she sat upon a horse, instead enjoying the scenery and Mac’s comments about the land and history of the area. They rode the perimeter of his property as the sun began its descent behind the mountain range.

  Mac had them back at the house before dusk, Jane insisting on helping him bed down the horses for the night. Daisy Mae didn’t seem to mind Jane’s unsure hands as she used the leather-handled body brush, making sure she cleaned the brush with the curry comb. She worked as hard as Mac, giving Daisy a good brushing as Mac explained it helped to keep her skin clean and open up her pores. Then, with great care, she sponged Daisy’s eyes and nostrils, cleaning them and washing her down.

  “I’m impressed,” Mac said as they entered the house.

  “You are?”

  He nodded. “Lizzie hates the clean-up part. Especially using the water brush on Daisy’s tail.”

  Jane laughed. “I can see why. It’s dangerous back there.”

  Mac chuckled, too, swinging his arms around her. He locked his hands behind her back, trapping her against him. “You’re grimy, Jane. I think you need a shower.”

  “You’re a mess, too, Mac.” She lifted her nose in the air. “And is that horse dung I smell on you?”

  “There’s only one shower,” he said, eyes twinkling.

  “That’s all we need.”

  Their clothes were off by the time they reached the bathroom. Mac entered first, adjusting the temperature, getting the water just right. “It’s safe to come in.”

  Jane stepped inside, realizing that Mac’s big muscular body took up most of the space. “I’d hardly call this safe.” She gulped, staring at him as water rained down on her.

  Mac didn’t respond. Instead, he took the bar of soap and began lathering her all over. His slick hands soaped her up and down, his palms both smooth and a little rough on her skin. Raw need rippled through her body as Mac touched every part of her, his hands moving on her possessively.

  She went through periods of holding her breath, then letting it out in a pleasured sigh. Mac massaged her backside thoroughly, the scented soap slipping and sliding. Then he turned her around and worked her upper body, his hands skimming her breasts, the quick brief touches enough to make her cry out. He moved lower, soaping her belly, and lower yet, his hands spreading her legs, to clean her inner thighs. Every now and then he’d kiss her, sometimes on her lips and sometimes on the very part of her he was washing.

  Hot water rained down, creating steam enough to fog the glass panes. Jane was sure that they’d be encased in their own cloud of passion, regardless. And when Mac had finished, he handed her the soap, claiming it was her turn.

  Jane took hold o
f the soap and worked up lather on Mac’s formidable chest, her hands spreading the tiny bubbles across it until he was richly coated. She slid her hands up and over, curling her fingers in the chest hairs, grazing his flat nipples until they peaked.

  Neither could ignore Mac’s full erection, which stood like a barricade against Jane’s body, but she continued on, soaping him up, giving as good as she’d gotten. She lathered his strong thighs and bent to do his calves, eliciting a deep groan from Mac when she went higher to work her hands over that area of his body that had grown hard and tight.

  But she wasn’t quite through with Mac yet. She spun him around and massaged his broad shoulders, working down his back with the soap. Its citrus scent permeated the room as she continued on, moving lower, to caress the slope of his buttocks, and causing her a deep intake of breath. But before she could finish, Mac spun around abruptly, shaking his head. “Can’t take much more, sweetheart.”

  Jane braved a glance downward and nodded, the sheer, massive power of him overwhelming. He bent his head, taking urgent claim to her lips, his tongue probing. The hungry kiss led to more caresses, more urgency, until Mac maneuvered Jane against the tiled wall of the shower. Out of the steady stream of spray now, he lifted her up and impaled her with his shaft, entering her in one long, full thrust.

  “Oh, Mac,” she cried, holding his shoulders and wrapping her legs around him.

  “That’s it, baby,” he rasped, his hands behind her urging her on, and together they rode the wave of their passion.

  Eyes closed and heart racing, Jane reeled with the heady sensations of slick bodies, heat and steam. She met each of Mac’s thrusts, oblivious to all else, until one niggling, unwelcome thought struck. She stopped and opened her eyes. “Mac, wait.”

  He halted, his eyes dark with desire, but wide with curiosity. “What’s wrong?”

  “We have no protection,” she said, her breaths labored.

  Mac froze for a moment, deep in thought, then he shrugged. “Doesn’t matter,” he said, and the implication was clear. He wasn’t speaking of health issues here, but the thought of conceiving a child. And Mac didn’t seem to think it a problem. His quick admission told Jane in so many words that what they had went beyond a summertime fling. Her heart soared with the notion, and she tossed her reservations away. No matter what her other life might have to offer, Mac had to be in her life from now on, she knew.

  “It doesn’t?” she asked, only for clarification.

  Mac shook his head. “Not to me,” he said. “I want you to know that. But you’re right. You can’t afford to get caught up in something that might be bigger than both of us. You have another life somewhere out there, Jane. And it’s my job to protect you.”

  Jane tugged him closer and brought her mouth to his in a long hot kiss. “Thank you, Mac.”

  He lifted her in his arms and brought her to the bedroom, protecting her from everything but the one thing that he couldn’t control—her unquestionable love for him. They joined bodies once again, finishing what they had started, but their hot, urgent mood had suddenly changed to reverent caresses and sweet indulgence.

  Mac woke in the early morning with Jane in his arms. He lay curled around her body, the fit and feel of her something he would never forget. Her freshly showered scent filled his nostrils as sunlight poured into his bedroom, casting golden light on her honey-blond hair. He tightened his hold on her, bringing his body even closer. They’d spent the night here, at the ranch, and Mac held close to his heart the memories of sleeping with her last night and waking to the soft sounds of her breathing. Aside from Lizzie, he hadn’t brought another female here, to his refuge, his home away from home.

  He smiled, thinking of Jane atop the horse, hanging on for dear life, and then later, her attempt to groom Daisy Mae. She’d been happy to learn, eager to participate. Mac hadn’t met too many women like Jane Doe, the mystery lady with the unknown past.

  He sighed deeply, the sound resonating inside the room. Jane turned in his arms and opened her pretty, lavender-blue eyes. “Hi.”

  “Morning,” he said, kissing the dimples at the corners of her mouth. “It’s a workday, sweetheart. I need to get going.”

  “Mmm.”

  “I’ll see what I can find for breakfast. Must have some cereal and dry milk in the pantry.”

  “I’m not hungry, Mac.”

  “No, neither am I.” He flopped onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. He let out another long sigh, one he couldn’t contain. He had something to tell Jane, something that he should have told her yesterday.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her hand gently caressing his wounded arm. He turned to look into her eyes, finding concern there. “Did we overdo it yesterday? Is it your chest?”

  She slipped her hand onto his torso, her fingers splaying across his ribs with tenderness.

  He covered her hand with his and laced their fingers. “No. I’m feeling better, just bruised.”

  “Then what’s up?” she asked, again with concern.

  “When I went into the station yesterday to file my report, we had some news about your case. Seems the investigation has turned up eight potential shoemakers that design custom boots like yours. It’ll take a few days to track down a list of their clients. The boots are high-end, as you know, ranging in price from two to three thousand dollars a pair.”

  Jane sat up on the bed and leaned forward, clutching the sheet to her bare chest. She looked so beautiful sitting there with hope filling her eyes that Mac couldn’t pry his gaze away. Yet he ached for her in ways he never had before in his life. The lawman in him knew it was his duty to find out who she was and to return her to the life she’d once led, the one she’d had before he’d found her up on Deerlick Canyon. But Mac cursed the news, as well. He’d come to dread the day when Jane Doe found out her identity.

  “Are you saying I might find out soon who I am? That one of the names on the list might be mine?”

  Mac nodded, gauging Jane’s reaction. She smiled then and lay her head down on her pillow slowly, her eyes bright with anticipation. “I wonder what my real name is. Where I live. There are so many things I’ve wondered about.”

  She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Just think, Mac. In a few days I’ll know who I am.”

  “Maybe. I don’t want to get your hopes up. Not yet. Not until we have something more concrete. That’s why I held off telling you. But now…well, I figured that you and I have to face facts.”

  Jane wrestled the sheets off and sat up on her knees, naked to the world and beautiful to him. “What facts?”

  Mac remained silent. He was torn with wanting what was right for Jane and the nagging pain in his gut telling him that she’d be gone before long.

  She stared into his eyes and he couldn’t hide the indecision he felt, or the pain.

  Jane immediately responded. “It won’t change anything between us, Mac. It can’t.”

  He tossed back the covers and got out of bed. “Everything is going to change, Jane. We can’t pretend it won’t.” He picked up his clothes and began dressing.

  “I wasn’t pretending…about anything,” she said honestly, before getting up and grabbing her own clothes.

  Mac waited for her to slip on her pants and blouse. “I wasn’t, either. Let’s just wait and see what happens.” He wrapped his arms around her to reassure her, but he had doubts. He’d been a fool to get involved with Jane in the first place. Hell, he’d tried not to. Tried to ignore every sweet aspect of her personality, the tempting allure of her sexy body and those big lavender eyes. But from day one, he’d been a goner, and now they’d both pay the price. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

  Jane rested her head on his chest. He brought her closer, their bodies touching intimately, with a familiarity Mac had known only one other time in his life, with his wife. But nothing compared to how Jane felt in his arms, the rightness of it. Desire surged again, but he held back, needing to hold her more than anything else
.

  “I never thought that learning my identity might hurt me.”

  “It won’t, Jane. I promise it won’t. You’ll be glad when you find out about yourself.”

  She lifted her chin and he felt her eyes on him. “Will I?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, you will.”

  “And what about you?”

  “Me?” he asked, looking away, ignoring her penetrating gaze. He didn’t want her to see his face when he told the biggest lie of his life. “I’ll be glad, too, Jane. It’s what we’ve been working for all this time. Now, we both have work to do today. Are you ready?”

  Jane glanced around the ranch house with sadness in her eyes. “Yes, I’m ready. Let’s go home.”

  The words stuck in Mac’s head all the back to Winchester. He hadn’t planned it, didn’t know how or when it had happened, but he’d come to think of Jane as “home.”

  “What do you mean, you’re moving out?” Mac interrogated Lizzie from across the parlor.

  “Exactly what I said, Mac. I found a place and I’m moving out. It’s time, big brother. Doesn’t mean that I don’t love you, or I don’t appreciate you taking care of me all those years when I was a kid. But I’m not a kid anymore.”

  Jane watched the scene unfold from the doorway of the parlor, frozen to the spot. She’d known things would change between her and Mac when Lizzie arrived home this morning, but she couldn’t have guessed this turn of events. Jane didn’t want to interfere, felt it wasn’t her place to listen in on this conversation, but Lizzie had asked her to be there, to act as a buffer when she told Mac the news. Jane couldn’t refuse Lizzie’s request. Both siblings had done so much for her. And she wanted to help Lizzie. She wanted to see her happy.

  “Hell, I know you’re not a kid. That’s not what this is all about.”

  “It’s about me gaining some independence. It’s about giving you the space you need, Mac.”

  He gestured widely, his arms outstretched. “It’s a big enough house. I have all the space I need.”

 

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