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

by Jean Brashear

  Now.

  He grasped for something, anything that would deter him.

  But he made the mistake of looking at her. He wished to hell she didn’t look so damned sexy, her hair tousled as if she’d just arisen from bed.

  His bed. That same bed he’d envisioned her in too many times since he’d watched her lick those luscious lips over coconut cream pie.

  And now he could envision it so much more clearly. Could count how many steps away from that bed she slept.

  How easy it would be to steal her from her own bed and draw her into his.

  And then he was reaching for her, seeking the warmth of her mouth as though his life depended upon it.

  Stop me, Sammie. For God’s sake, stop me.

  No way could he do it for her. Not now.

  Sammie’s mind had already gone a long way past no. If she’d thought that their encounter in the truck had been blown out of proportion by her memory, she knew now that memory hadn’t even come close. She was aching, drowning…her every nerve alive, edgy need crackling.

  Flexing her fingers on the taut muscles of his arms, Sammie slid her hands across his shoulders, burying her fingers in the thick black hair she’d been yearning to touch for what seemed forever.

  She opened her mouth to him as she longed to open her body, her every sense straining toward him as though he were all that mattered in the world.

  In that moment, it seemed that he was. She whimpered and stood on her toes, wanting to get closer.

  The whimper registered on Case, driving the tiniest crack into the madness.

  He grabbed for that minuscule breach, all too aware of just how close he was to taking her right here on the ground. His muscles quivered in protest, but he forced himself to let go.

  It was now or never.

  Even if they didn’t have so much unsettled between them, so many reasons he couldn’t possibly do right by her…even if Case didn’t know to his marrow that this one woman could tear his heart apart if he let her in and then had to let her go…

  Even if none of that were true, she deserved better than being taken, fast and hard, on the ground.

  And there was no way he could be gentle, not right now.

  He made himself step back, his breathing as rough as if he’d run a marathon. He forced himself to meet her eyes, then almost groaned aloud when he did.

  Her eyes glazed, her lush lips kiss-swollen, her pretty breasts heaving, nipples hard and begging for his touch, Sammie’s face was a study in confusion.

  And he had no answers. So he only said “I’m sorry” and bent to retrieve his hat.

  When he straightened, she had drawn her dignity around her like a cloak.

  He felt the loss. The uncertainty of the next step.

  Sammie solved it for him, more graciously than he deserved. “We’d better get back. I’d like to help Linnie Mae with supper.”

  Watching her walk away from him, Case damned his life, damned his responsibilities, damned his sense of what was right. With quick strides, he reached her side.

  He grabbed her arm, and she rounded on him, temper flaring in her eyes.

  “Sammie, it’s not you. I just—so much is unsettled and I don’t—”

  “I understand. I’ll be gone soon. It’s better this way.”

  “Gone? Where are you going?”

  She turned to her horse and didn’t answer.

  She didn’t know, he realized. She could land right into trouble again. “Sammie, don’t you do anything hasty. I can keep my hands off you. You don’t have to leave.”

  Her head whipped around. Her eyes sparkled with an odd light. “You think I want you to stay away from me?”

  “Don’t you?”

  Her smile became genuine. “Did I act as though I did?”

  Okay, he was completely thrown off balance now.

  “In the future, Mr. Marshall, you might remember—” She stepped into the stirrup, throwing her other leg over the saddle “—too much thinking can get you into trouble.”

  She flashed a smile over her shoulder and kicked her horse into a trot. “Last one home’s a rotten egg!”

  Fighting the urge to chase her down and drag her out of the saddle, Case mounted quickly and set off after her.

  Okay, so maybe she wasn’t that fragile.

  She wanted to be playful? Two could do that.

  Tonight he’d take her dancing.

  Who the hell cared if he was playing with fire?

  He urged Comanche into a gallop.

  Chapter Nine

  At that evening’s meal, Linnie Mae turned to Case. “I didn’t get a chance to ask you yesterday how the auction went.”

  “It was good. Got a fair price, a little higher than I expected.”

  “But that wasn’t the best thing that happened,” Wiley added.

  Every eye turned to the older man.

  “You tell ’em, Case,” Wiley urged.

  Sammie couldn’t wait to hear herself. She was so happy to know something good had come his way.

  “Well,” he began, “It looks like we may have a lead on Roland Bracewell.”

  Sammie froze. Roland Bracewell? Her uncle?

  Before she could ask, Ralph spoke. “Seriously? You think you might be closer to finding that good-for-nothing sonofabitch?”

  “Ralph,” Linnie Mae warned.

  Sammie’s heart began to pound. What could—?

  “Well, I, for one, hope you do,” Linnie Mae muttered. “I’d like to get hold of that man myself for what he’s put us through.”

  Oh, no. Sammie’s gut clenched. Please, no.

  “After he took off with all the money, he deserves a good pounding, at the very least,” Ralph said. “Promise me I can help you give him one.”

  The sound of her glass shattering on the floor grabbed everyone’s attention. Sammie hastily bent to clean the mess, grateful for the excuse to keep her eyes on the floor, even as her mind raced.

  Took off with all the money. Dear God. Shame flooded her. The very idea that someone related to her had hurt these wonderful people…

  She desperately wanted to believe it was not her Uncle Roland, but somehow she knew it was. Thank heaven she hadn’t told anyone any details about her life yet.

  They would hate her. And they would deserve to.

  Case knelt to help her while the rest of the group got up to clear the table. Sammie couldn’t meet his eyes. “It’s okay. I can take care of it.” She heard her voice shake and fought for control.

  Case lifted a jagged piece of glass out of her hand. “Let me help. Don’t want to see those lady hands sliced up,” he said gently.

  She wanted to burst into tears on the spot.

  Jennifer bounded around the table. “Don’t worry, Sammie. I did that once, too, and I didn’t get a spanking.”

  Sammie glanced up gratefully, then lowered her head quickly. It wouldn’t do for anyone to see her distress.

  She was too late. Case frowned as he saw her expression. Started to speak.

  Before he could, Jennifer said, “We could go see the kittens again, if it would make you feel better.”

  Sammie couldn’t help the little laugh that bubbled up. What was she going to do? Painful longing pierced her to the heart. She wanted to belong here. Wished she had nothing to hide from these kind souls.

  Instead, now she had more.

  She could feel Case observing her, then at last he spoke. “Sorry, kids, I’m afraid we’ll have to take a raincheck. I’m taking Sammie dancing.”

  “Dancing?” she echoed.

  “Yeah, you know, we face each other and move around to music—you sure you’re okay?”

  How could she go dancing now? “Dancing?”

  “Does that mean you don’t want to go out with me?”

  “No—I mean, yes, I’d love to, but—” Her uncle had destroyed his world, if she was understanding correctly, and he wanted to take her out.

  Because he didn’t know. Because she’d lied to h
im.

  Misery swamped her.

  He glanced behind him. “Didn’t you tell me this morning that Miss Dolly was playing tonight, Ralph?”

  “I sure did.”

  Case turned back to her. “Well, then, that’s settled. Is it all right with you, kids?”

  Jennifer goggled. “Sure, Case. She can see them tomorrow.”

  “But, Case, I don’t—” She couldn’t tell him like this. She didn’t know how to tell him at all. Quickly she switched topics. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

  His eyes crinkled. “What you have on is fine. Now go on and do whatever it is that ladies have to do, so we can leave.”

  “But—” She should tell him. Oh God, she had to think…

  “Go on, Sammie. Time’s a-wasting.” With one hand on her waist, he nudged her toward the door.

  She’d hardly uttered a word on the drive. She shouldn’t be here. Wanted desperately to understand what her uncle had done and how she could fix it.

  “We don’t have to do this,” Case offered. “I thought you might enjoy it, but—”

  She snapped back to the moment. “I’m sorry. I’m sure I will.”

  “Too back-of-beyond for you? I know it’s not New Orleans, but—”

  “No!” How could she let him think she was turning her nose up at anything when she was the one doing absolutely everything wrong? “I love to dance. I’m sure it will be great, but Case, maybe we should—”

  He shut off the ignition and climbed out. Rounded the hood and opened her door for her. “We should have a good time. You said I needed to relax. Can’t much do that if you’re all wound up.” He bent to her, his eyes going dark. “Of course, I’m kinda wound up myself, sweetheart.”

  His husky voice sent a shiver through her, and she grasped for the feeling of the afternoon and that lethal embrace.

  He noted the shiver and smiled. Clasped her hand and led her inside.

  The pulsating, sultry beat was one she’d felt throbbing through her body many times before. “Blues?” She looked up at Case in surprise.

  He grinned at her astonishment.

  When they found a table and sat down, Sammie looked around her. The clientele didn’t look like the ones she saw in the Quarter, but everyone was clearly having a good time. Her gaze moved to the stage where the female singer, Miss Dolly, she supposed, dressed all in black, wielding a sinister-looking bullwhip.

  Tight black jeans were topped by a black leather vest, and glimpses of a lacy black bra peeked through with each movement. The only relief from black was the brilliant crimson of her lips, the white of her bare arms, and her expansive cleavage. As she sang, her long, straight black hair swayed with her motions. She held the crowd in the palm of her hand, entrancing them with the rich, full power of her voice. She caressed the handle of the whip as she paused to introduce the next song.

  “You know,” her smoky voice purred, “Life is like a whip, soft on one end and…hard…” Here she paused and winked. “On the other. And just like a whip, life can cut you open…but if it’s handled right, it can be a whole lotta fun.”

  The sly grin brought a tiny one to Sammie’s lips as well, despite her misery.

  Case watched Sammie, his gaze hot and promising. That slow, lethal smile shot sparks through her body.

  But how could she let herself respond? How could she even allow herself to be here, having a good time, when her uncle had ruined Case’s life? She thought about all the kind things he’d done. She desired him still, but he would hate her when he knew.

  If only she could find some way to fix things for him… Nothing would erase what he’d been through at her uncle’s hands, but she wanted so badly to make it up to him somehow.

  She had access to great wealth, if only she could find her way out of the current morass. She would stop letting herself float in this lovely limbo of Case’s world. She would find her uncle and bring him to justice. She’d make sure Case got back every penny he’d lost, even if it took every cent of her own money.

  Once his business was made whole again, then maybe he and she could start over. See if they could have a chance to explore whatever this was between them, free of shadows and secrets.

  It was the only way she could live with herself. The only way she could allow herself to stay here with this man tonight. The fixes she intended to make wouldn’t take away what he’d been through, but maybe, just maybe…

  Case grasped her hand and pulled her toward the dance floor.

  Her heart a little lighter for her resolution, she let Case draw her near.

  Don’t think, just dance. Don’t spoil this night. It may be all you ever have with him.

  Case walked her across the dance floor to a point near the stage. He could sense the worry still vibrating through her, but he was determined that they would have this night. He didn’t understand why she’d gone so ashen earlier. He couldn’t help his sense that there was something more than a broken glass at stake, but searching back over the conversations at the table, he couldn’t remember anything that could have upset her, except finding out that he didn’t have any money left, but hell, he’d told her that himself.

  He shoved those thoughts away and focused on Sammie, not exactly a hardship. She wore her newly-clean miniskirt again, about a mile and half of leg showing, and she’d paired it with the pretty ruffled blouse Linnie Mae had loaned her.

  He watched her relax inch by inch, and soon her hips were swaying to the primal, bluesy backbeat. Her eyes went sultry, her body was grace and sensuality wrapped up in one gorgeous package.

  Okay, sure, he wanted to do way more than watch. His body strained for hers, and if he truly meant to keep his hands off her, coming here was a big mistake.

  Then Sammie lost herself in the insistent, demanding beat. Threw caution to the winds and moved closer, her thighs brushing his, grazing the denim with slow strokes as she swayed to the music.

  Sweet heaven. Violent need shuddered through him. With her head thrown back to expose her long neck and her whiskey curls flowing down her back, she was definitely wet dream material. His palms itched to cover the full breasts teasing him with their nearness. If she rubs my leg one more time, it’s all over.

  “Hey, Case, baby.” They were startled out of the trance when his name was purred from the stage.

  Dolly grinned like a Cheshire cat, slowly licking her lips while she stared straight at him and crooked her finger.

  Case just grinned and shook his head no, turning back to Sammie.

  Sammie was watching Dolly.

  Dolly spotted her then, forehead wrinkling, gaze taking in Sammie in one insulting scan, eyebrows lifting as she looked back at Chance.

  Then her musical cue sounded, and she began to sing again, that throaty, powerful voice bent on seducing every man in the room.

  Sammie stared at Case.

  He just shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

  She turned her back on him. Took a step away.

  He grasped her hips. Bent to her. “Don’t go. It’s nothing. A long time ago.”

  She looked over her shoulder at him, then tossed her hair and sniffed. “I couldn’t care less.”

  He couldn’t help a pleased grin. “Liar.” Damn, she was tempting. Since the music was too loud for conversation, instead he moved closer, rubbing her body with his, reveling in the feel of that delicious bottom sliding across the hardness straining at his jeans.

  And he scowled at Dolly.

  She broke into a big smile and scolded him with one long, scarlet-tipped finger.

  Then Miss Dolly and the Devils segued into a slow song, and Case turned Sammie around into his arms. As he drew her close, she sank against him, laying her head against his chest as he drew their entwined hands next to his heart and laid his cheek upon her hair.

  Bodies close, hearts drawing closer, the two gave themselves up to the spell of the music. The song spoke of love and loss, spinning a web of bittersweet glory around them. Beyond the insistent thr
um of desire never far away when they were together, beyond all the reasons to keep them apart, something tender and young sprouted from the fertile soil of their passion. For the moment, they let it free to seek the sun.

  When the song ended, they simply stood there, still as statues, caught in the moment. The emotion.

  Then the band launched into a rowdy number called “You Can Take My Husband But Don’t You Touch My Man.”

  The spell evaporated.

  Sammie and Case returned to their table.

  Sammie excused herself to go to the ladies’ room. Once inside, she sagged against the wall.

  Le bon dieu. The man turned her inside out. Guilt fought with yearning. Need battled with shame. She wanted so badly to yield to his powerful allure, to let that gorgeous hard body take her over, to feed the demand that grew by the day…

  But her conscience wouldn’t let her.

  She had so much to hide. He made her feel too much.

  Want too much.

  She absolutely could not afford to get involved with this man while her life was in such chaos.

  And he deserved better.

  How she longed to return to the cool, dispassionate woman she’d been. Life had been so tranquil. If she was ever to solve her problems and return to any semblance of normal life, she had to get a grip on herself when it came to Case Marshall. She could do neither of them any good if she lost her head in longing for him.

  Strengthened in her resolve, she emerged from the restroom, threading her way through the crowd back to their table.

  And there was Miss Dolly bent over Case’s chair, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she leaned to whisper in his ear, breasts brushing the arm he had draped along the back of Sammie’s chair. Their posture spoke volumes about past intimacies, and a sharp pain pierced her heart.

  No. This was good. She needed anything that drew her back from the cliff’s edge that was the very sexy Case Marshall.

  As she walked around Case’s other side to get to her seat, he straightened in his chair. Dolly was slower to remove her body from his, trailing her fingers slowly across his broad shoulders while casting a sly glance at Sammie.