The Marshalls Boxed Set (Texas Heroes: The Marshalls Books 1-3)

by Jean Brashear

  Delight sparked in her eyes. When she rubbed her sweet behind against him again, he arched one eyebrow.

  “Want to fight dirty, eh? Two can play that game, lover.”

  Josh turned her sideways to the mirror and dropped to his knees facing her, sliding his hands under her skirt as slowly as he could manage. As he stroked up her thighs, she moaned softly. He cupped her mound.

  She gasped. Shivered.

  He rotated his palm over her slowly, never taking his eyes off hers. With his free hand, he held up her skirt and bent to plant a series of hot, wet kisses in a line up her inner thighs.

  Elena gasped again. Grabbed for his hair.

  He chuckled. But he didn’t stop what he was doing.

  Elena felt…worshipped. Cherished. Slow, swirling licks vied with nips of his teeth and suckling kisses. She glanced at the mirror, drinking in the erotic image they made as he knelt before her, clasping her to him as he delivered the sweet torment.

  Desire unfurled in dark, silken ribbons. Then his hands slid around to fondle her bottom, and he placed his mouth over the thin barrier of her panties.

  Her legs buckled.

  Josh caught her. Held her.

  Melted her bones as his hot breath embraced her tender flesh.

  Dios, she’d read of this in her romances, but never…oh my God, she’d never dreamed it would feel so bone-deep electric. Shyness warred with huge, intense, soul-rocking pleasure…

  Then she had no thoughts at all—lost, utterly lost, in a world of sensations beyond all her dreaming. Heated swirls of longing drew her to him.

  She felt…wanton. She felt…fierce.

  He led her deeper into the mystery, the sheer, blinding magic of his mouth, his hands, tracing a path of soul kisses as he drew her panties down her legs, slipping them completely away.

  When his breath first touched her curls, it was unbearably intimate.

  Murderously sweet.

  Then his tongue slicked into the heart of her.

  And it was all she could do not to scream.

  In the best possible way.

  She would die, she knew it. “Josh—”

  “Hold on, baby. I’ve got you.” His words burned her, his tongue tracing a sizzling, lazy path along her softening center as he lifted one leg over his broad shoulder to open her to him. His fingers played over her, overloading her brain with sensations.

  Then his thumb slipped inside her and began to stroke.

  She thought she would faint.

  Chills and heat danced over her body, and she writhed against the power and beauty of what this man could make her feel.

  Amazing. Strong and powerful.

  Beautiful.

  Years’ worth of chains fell away from her, and a new being stirred within her—a woman who would dare to seize what she must to survive.

  A woman worthy of a man’s adoration.

  And then she began coming, impossible energy going nova inside her.

  Josh felt the change in her happen, and it was off-the-charts erotic. When Elena tightened her fingers in his hair and rocked her hips toward him in blatant demand, he rejoiced.

  He held her steady while she soared, then when her legs went limp, he gave her his strength. Began building the fires again.

  And set his own passion free.

  He opened himself to her as he’d never done with another. For years, he had operated behind a facade of easygoing, never-too-serious Josh Marshall.

  But with Elena, he discovered a hunger too long ignored. A hunger for meaning, for true connection. He saw now that the glimpses of Elena had been mere tastes of the real woman. Behind the shattered female he’d found on the highway lay a passionate tigress. A woman with the brave heart of a jungle cat, a strong, beautiful spirit that called to him at the deepest level.

  So Josh spread quicksilver desire and molten adoration with his mouth and his fingers, leading Elena upward, showing her the way to rapture. Following her there.

  For the first time in his life, technique gave way to meaning. Josh gave of his deepest self, and the effect upon them both was explosive.

  Elena soared over the edge a second time, shot through with sparks, showered with sensation. She thought for sure she would fall this time, her body shivering with pleasure.

  But Josh didn’t stop there. He only started again, stroking and suckling and tormenting even as she still trembled from aftershocks over exquisitely sensitive nerves.

  And, unbelievably, made her want more.

  Suddenly, she wanted to devour him, wanted to know every inch of this man. Her nostrils flared with the force of her wanting. She grasped at his clothes in a frenzied need to touch his skin.

  Slowly he rose. Yanked her close, pouring white heat into a kiss that scorched them both.

  While their tongues swirled in age-old dances and she tasted herself on his lips, she tore at his shirt, buttons popping in a shower around them.

  Josh growled and pulled her against him, hands behind her back, yanking her zipper down, barely restraining himself from ripping the dress off her.

  And discovered, to his delight, that she wore no bra. He dragged her against his bare chest, the shock of skin to skin electrifying them both.

  Elena felt it to her toes.

  “If I don’t get us both naked in the next two seconds, I’m going to die, Elena,” he groaned. He picked her up and moved to the bed, laying her down with all the tenderness he could summon from beneath his urge to devour.

  Elena drank in the sight of him shedding his clothes, greedy to store every image. When at last he stood before her, naked and proud, she reached out reverently to stroke steel cased in satin skin.

  He closed his eyes and growled, thrusting his hips toward her.

  She rose to her knees, tracing the outline of him with one finger. She’d never thought of this part of a man as beautiful, but now instead of terror, hunger beat, alongside wistful tenderness. Such a strong man, so beautifully formed…and so very eager for her, Elena Navarro.

  Not woman enough. Elena shook her head in denial. The woman coming to life inside her said differently.

  Drawn to him as iron filings to a magnet, Elena leaned forward and licked the satin head like an ice cream cone.

  “Oh, God, Elena, you don’t know how close I am.” He caressed her cheek, lifting her chin to lock eyes on hers. “When I come,” he growled, “I want to be so deep inside you, we won’t know where you end and I begin.”

  She gazed into eyes almost black with desire. Bare lines of green surrounded pupils grown huge with need. As their gazes tangled, she licked her lips slowly, caressing him with one last stroke, one hand caressing the fullness beneath.

  “You’re beautifully made, Josh.”

  For the first time in years, his body was more than merely the tool of his living. Elena’s simple words humbled him. For once, no facile answer sprang to mind. He let his body talk for him.

  Josh fumbled for protection, then knelt over Elena and tantalized her with hands and mouth, bringing her to shimmering need once more. Fierce with craving, he clasped her face in his hands. “Look at me,” he demanded. “I want to watch you when you come.”

  When those chocolate eyes opened, delving into his soul, Josh lowered himself upon her, poised for what seemed the most serious moment of his life.

  “What is this between us?” he whispered, as much to himself as to her.

  Their gazes locked, their spirits soaring, Josh slid with aching slowness into Elena’s yearning body.

  And when they were fully joined, from inside him came a soul-deep sigh.

  His mate.

  His home.

  None of that made sense, he knew it.

  And yet it shook him to his core.

  But as the furies caught up with them, as Elena whimpered and his body screamed for release…Josh prayed for this never to end.

  Caught in the spiral of passion, hearts tangled in eternity’s web…when bliss rolled over them both, he knew th
e rush of his soul toward hers.

  And the part of him Josh hadn’t known was missing…

  Returned.

  Helen gazed out of the tower’s only window, grateful for the light to push back the gloom of her surroundings. Her sleep had been troubled by restless dreaming. A sense of foreboding plagued her.

  Five days had elapsed since her visit downstairs and still no word from her father. No opportunity for escape. Unease skittered down her spine.

  Metal clanging from below drew her attention. She leaned out to see its source. In the bailey, two men took part in fierce, furious swordplay.

  One of the men was clearly Sir Richard, and though he smiled, deadly intent lay in his every move. The man he opposed had his back turned to her. Long dark hair drawn back at the neck fell in a braid down his back. His movements graceful in their strength, he seemed younger and more agile than Sir Richard. The two men grunted and groaned with their exertions, executing swift turns and powerful slices with their weapons.

  Helen could not take her gaze off the younger man.

  At last, the two men ended their swordplay, Sir Richard clapping his opponent on the back. The younger man shook his head and laughed, striding toward a trough of water. He stripped his shirt off, leaving only his hose and knee-high boots as he leaned down to dunk his head in the trough.

  His head lifted, and water streamed down his back, a back rippling with the play of muscles, gleaming in the sunlight. Helen knew she should look away, but could not.

  A sudden prickle of darkness surrounded her, followed by the piercing light she dreaded. She bit back a moan as a vision assailed her, a vision of that same back in the dim light of a tunnel…a whip slicing through the air and rending that glowing skin…rivulets of blood tracing the pathways of muscle

  And her sudden knowledge that she was to blame.

  Helen moaned in pain.

  Then her vision cleared.

  The man below turned as though he’d heard her, though that was clearly impossible.

  Iain. She couldn’t see the green eyes from here, but she felt them boring into her. Repressing a shudder of terror, praying the Sight was wrong, Helen could only stare at the man below, unable to move.

  Iain would be hurt.

  And it would be her fault.

  Elena stirred and moaned, her heart pounding in terror.

  “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

  She opened her eyes to see green ones filled with concern. “Iain…no. Go…you have to go…” She struggled to make herself heard.

  “Hey, hey. Wake up. You’re dreaming. Just hold onto me. Everything’s okay.”

  She blinked rapidly, grasping for a hold on the truth. “Josh?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. What’s wrong?”

  Josh. Not…who was it she was so terrified for? Was she losing her mind? A moan hitched in her throat, and her eyes filled with tears.

  “Elena? What is it?” Josh asked. He cradled her in one strong arm and stroked her hair with his other hand.

  She wanted to weep in desolation, and she didn’t understand why.

  When he pressed his lips to her forehead, Elena huddled against him as if she’d never get close enough.

  “Sh-h-h, sweet one…it’s all right. Don’t you worry. You’re safe with me,” Josh soothed.

  But she was frightened for him and she didn’t know why. What had she dreamed? Why couldn’t she remember? All she could recall was…

  Green eyes.

  And bone-deep fear.

  She came to sitting, studying his face, tracing one dark brow.

  “You’re trembling. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  “I don’t…I thought I saw…” She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “You can tell me. Talking robs a nightmare of its power.”

  Gratefully, she glanced up at him. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”

  “Try me.”

  “I…I think I dreamed about your eyes.”

  “And that scared you?” He chuckled “Doesn’t say much for my eyes.”

  “It wasn’t…there was something…” How could she explain what she didn’t understand herself? “There was something so…familiar about it,” she mused, then glanced back up, troubled. “There was danger, Josh.” She leaned forward, desperate to impress him with the seriousness. “You…something was…there was danger. For you. At least I think it was you, but I…” She felt like an idiot.

  Josh studied her. “Has anything like this ever happened to you before?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  For a moment, he seemed troubled. “Not even when you were a child? Because Quinn—”

  “Oh.” She remembered what he’d said about this brother and his visions.

  But she didn’t have visions. “It was just a dream,” she reassured him as well as herself. “I’m not like that—I’ve never—no. I’m sure it’s not like that.” But the dread still lay heavy on her heart.

  “Not that I would make fun of you if—” He frowned for a second. “No. Only a party trick,” he muttered.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” Josh pulled her back down and nestled her against him, spoon-style. Kissing her temple, he soothed, “Maybe I can find a way to make you forget.”

  The million-dollar smile reduced her dread to manageable proportions, and his hands began to move over her, dispelling anything but him and the hard male body vividly demonstrating his need for her. Elena sighed, marveling that this man, so very handsome, would want her.

  His hands stilled. “Elena,” Josh’s voice was hoarse with longing.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder.

  “Don’t leave yet. Come with me to Quinn’s.” His arms tightened around her.

  “What?”

  Her mind was a whirl.

  “Stay with me a little longer.”

  How could she?

  Why shouldn’t she?

  Could she survive the pain if she stayed with him any longer, then had to let him go?

  Staring gravely into his eyes, Elena debated. He would go back to his world, no question. Back to his high life, his glamorous women. The question for her to answer was this: would it be better to stop now and wonder forever what she’d missed? Or should she take the biggest leap of her life and claim whatever time he’d give her, knowing that the bittersweet memories would tear her apart when she was alone again?

  For a long moment, they only looked at each other, the air heavy with wishes. Questions. Possibilities.

  Make a new life for yourself, her father had begged at the last. Could she find the courage to make this leap, knowing it would change her forever? Did she have the strength to survive his leaving if she opened her heart any more?

  Could she live with herself if she never tried?

  At last Elena nodded, tears of future sorrow burning her eyes.

  But joy dancing in her heart. “I’d like that.”

  Josh took his first deep breath, as surprised as she was by his request.

  And oh, so conflicted. What would happen to her? Was this right? Was it fair?

  Josh couldn’t answer a single question. In the most selfish moment of his life, he only knew that he couldn’t let her go yet. He told himself it was only so he could find a way to make things right for her before he had to go back.

  But at the thought of returning to L.A., a sharp pain invaded his heart. Studying her face for the answer, Josh wondered if he dared ask her to go with him. Was there any way she could ever be happy there? In the land of plastic people, could someone so fresh and pure survive the lies and pretenses? Would his world destroy her?

  Josh shuddered. It would be like taking a delicate orchid and setting it on a Manhattan street corner. The grime and the filth would stain it; the noxious air would rob it of what it needed to survive.

  He needed time. Time to think of an answer. Time to understand what demons drove her. To figure out how to slay her dragons.

  Time to understand why he cared s
o deeply.

  “What’s wrong?” Elena’s hand rose to stroke his face. “Sorry you asked?”

  He dragged himself back. Smiled and kissed her palm. “Not on your life, sweetheart.” As his mouth lowered to hers, he teased, “Now where were we?”

  Time. Time was the answer. And the problem.

  If only he could push back the clock that ticked away his freedom.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Better to ask for forgiveness than permission. Greg grinned as he neared Kruger’s ranch, thinking about Carmen’s face when he’d kissed her.

  Sure she’d tried to look all how-dare-you, but the initial reaction, the one Greg knew from long experience was the genuine one—was interest. He’d intrigued her. She’d keep thinking about him.

  All of that was good. Very good. He might not be around long, or he might be here for months. However it went, Carmen seemed more than capable of taking care of herself.

  But in the meantime, they could have fun.

  Not now, however. He would only get this one shot, he suspected, so he had to make it count.

  As he passed the Navarro place, he noticed it was looking bad. Old Man Navarro had died a few weeks back, he’d learned, and neglect hovered like a noxious cloud. The homestead he could see a couple of hundred yards back was weathered, the roof of one barn sagging.

  But he knew the second he encountered Kruger land. Fences were straight and strong—expensive, too. Even the road in front of it was in better condition than any he’d seen in this county.

  Nice to have the big bucks.

  But not if you built all this on the backs of others’ misery.

  A big gate with its own gatehouse guarded the road that must lead to the house he couldn’t see from here. A man stepped out as he approached, a guard with a uniform that reeked of South American dictatorships.

  Kruger was serious about his security, clearly.

  The man stepped into the road in front of the gate, big and broad, his posture screaming ex-military. “Can we help you, sir?”

  Greg got out but made his movements slow and clear. “I’m Deputy Sheriff Greg Blackwell. New on the job and looking to familiarize myself with the area.” He glanced up the drive. “Mr. Kruger in? Thought I should introduce myself. Pay my respects.”