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Burning Wild

Page 12

by Feehan, Christine


  In desperation, Emma lifted both hands and shoved hard at the wall of Jake’s chest.

  6

  JAKE trapped Emma’s hands against the wall of his chest and held her there. The hard push hadn’t even rocked him. “I’m not angry with you, honey. I’m sorry I’m acting like such a bastard. There’s no excuse.” And there wasn’t. Hell, she’d wanted to surprise him. She had surprised him. Not one other person in the world had thought to acknowledge his birthday. Only Emma. And he was snarling at her.

  She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. He did his best to look reassuring when he just wanted to kiss her again, this time making certain she felt the possession, so that she would know just whom she belonged to. Jake rubbed at his shadowed jaw, irritated by his thoughts. He’d put a lot of effort into his plan and Joshua wasn’t going to sneak in and take Emma out from under him when he wasn’t looking.

  “Was it really bad out there?” Emma asked, trying to guess at the reason for his bad mood.

  “We had to shift the entire herd until the men can get the fences back up and clear out the debris. I lost more than I’d first thought in that freak storm. Water backed up the canyon, causing a land shift.”

  “I’m sorry.” She spoke quietly, sympathetically, picturing the dead and bloated cattle lying half buried in the mud.

  He was watching her expressive face. “You’re too soft,” he drawled lazily, allowing her hands to slip away from his chest. His thumb slid over her skin, savoring the feel of her. “It’s a cattle ranch, honey. We’re going to have a few disasters.”

  “So you keep telling me.” The tension in the room was slowly dissipating and Emma felt herself beginning to relax. Jake stepped away from her and she instantly felt the loss of his body heat, but it allowed her blood to cool and the terrible aching need to fade a bit. She took another deep breath, thankful she was regaining control.

  Having a physical relationship with Jake would be total personal suicide. He didn’t keep women for long. He used them, let them use him, and then he discarded them. He wasn’t even nice about it, although she’d noticed most of the women kept coming back for more. She’d always felt sorry for his women as they called and left messages he never returned. She thought them a little sick to want such a twisted relationship, but here she was, her body melting into a pool of need at his feet. It was humiliating.

  Just one time having sex with him and she would jeopardize the home she’d come to love. She would have to leave Kyle and take Andraya from Jake.

  Jake legally adopted Andraya. The thought leapt unbidden into her head.

  The one thing she knew about Jake was that he made a bitter, relentless enemy. He used every means possible to destroy his enemies. If she left, would he try to take Andraya from her? Not only was it a possibility, it was a probability.

  Jake sprawled in a chair, feet out in front of him, his gaze once again on her face. “Never play poker, Emma,” he advised. He kicked at a chair, spinning it around in invitation. “I’m not in the mood for cat-and-mouse games, so sit down for a minute and tell me what’s gotten you so upset.”

  “Let’s leave it, Jake,” Emma suggested softly, not meeting his focused stare. He could unnerve anyone with that look. Why did he have to be so darned perceptive, noticing the slightest differences about her? He noticed everything about everyone, the tiniest details, and she needed time to think about things and come up with a plan just in case.

  He reached out a long, powerful arm and gently tapped her cheek. “Not when it bothers you. You know I’m not going to let you get out of here until you tell me, so spill it.”

  She rubbed the palm of her hand nervously along her jean-clad thigh. “I’ve been thinking about our situation.”

  “Well, don’t,” he snapped abruptly, his rugged features hardening. His eyes glittered dangerously at her, daring her to continue the conversation.

  Emma scowled at him, ignoring the chair and leaning back against the counter to regard him with troubled eyes. “I thought you wanted me to tell you what I was worried about. Just because you don’t like something doesn’t mean it just goes away.”

  A brief flash of amusement slipped through his bad temper. “Sure it does. If I tell you to quit worrying about something, it’s because I have it handled.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Really, Jake? Sometimes you make me want to be a twelve-year-old and stick my finger down my throat to gag myself. Do you honestly think you can order me not to worry and I’ll just stop?”

  “Sure. Have you ever known me not to handle a problem, especially one you were worried about?” He shrugged his shoulders.

  Emma planted her hands on the counter behind her and lifted herself up to sit. He did take care of any problem. Even if she mentioned it casually, he immediately fixed the least little thing. He did it so smoothly she often didn’t even notice. “This isn’t that kind of thing.”

  “All right. Spit it out.”

  Now that she had his attention, she wished she’d let him divert the conversation. She tried to choose each word carefully. “I’ve just been thinking about the future. I’ve been drifting along without any real plan. It’s so comfortable here and I’m not really looking forward to leaving.”

  Something dangerous crossed his face and she paused. He had gone very still, his lids dropping so that he’d narrowed his gaze. His eyes had gone completely golden, slipping into the absolute, single-minded concentration that she found unnerving.

  “Andraya and Kyle are as close as blood siblings. They love each other and they love both of us. If you found someone you wanted—”

  “Emma, this is such bullshit. You aren’t going anywhere. And I’m not finding anyone else.” He waved his hand dismissively.

  “We have to think about it. We do, Jake, whether you want to face it or not. The longer the children are together, the harder it’s going to be to break them up. The thought of losing Kyle is already more than I can bear.”

  “You’re not losing him because you aren’t leaving. What the hell has Susan Hindman been saying to you that’s gotten you all upset?”

  “It isn’t Susan, Jake. You’re legally Andraya’s father. I’m not Kyle’s mother. If something happened, I’d be the one to lose out, possibly on both of them.”

  He was on his feet, tall, enormously strong, towering over her, looking suddenly ruthless and a little cruel. Temper was riding him hard. “Okay, now you’re just pissing me off on purpose. What the fuck does that mean, Emma? Tell me what you mean by that.”

  She held out a hand to ward him off, but he kept coming, wedging his hips between her legs and catching both of her upper arms to give her a little shake. His fingers dug deep. His eyes looked like glittering jewels, hot and angry, his body giving off a blazing heat.

  “You’re the one who’s always telling me to think about the future instead of the past. It’s not like we can stay here like this forever. And then what happens to me? Don’t pretend you wouldn’t demand your rights to visit with Andraya.”

  Without visibly moving, his hand snaked out, hard fingers spanning her throat, allowing her to feel his immense strength. His thumb tipped her chin up so she was forced to look up at him. He was enormously strong, and it showed in his well-defined, rippling muscles and the powerful grip of his hands.

  “You aren’t leaving me,” he growled very softly. His gaze dropped to her trembling mouth and he made an effort to soften his voice. “If you’re so damned worried about your rights, let’s get John here tonight, now, and have him draw up adoption papers. You never brought it up, so I just assumed you knew you were his mother and that was the end of it. But if you need the legality of a formal adoption, then just do it.”

  “You still have the advantage, Jake. You know every judge.”

  A muscle ticked along his jaw. For a moment her heart nearly stopped. He looked more like a leopard than a man, a predator about to leap on and devour prey.

  “If you fucking want to get married, just say so
and we’ll get it done along with the adoption. Whatever it takes to stop this bullshit about leaving. As my wife you’ll have the same playing field and I can pretty much guarantee that judges will like you better than they will me. And don’t give me crap about me finding someone else. If I was going to find someone, I would have already done it. For Christ’s sake, Emma.”

  “Well, what if I find someone else?”

  “How are you going to do that, locked in this house with two kids and still pining away for someone who’s never coming back? You don’t even look at men, Emma, so no, you’re sure as hell not going to find someone else.”

  Fury swept through Emma, her temper rising up out of nowhere, something rare but lethal once she got going. She was tempted to slap his face, but it wasn’t her style. She reached behind her to keep her itching palms away from him and came in contact with the sprayer on the sink. Without thought she turned on the faucet and blasted him with cold water right in his arrogant, handsome face.

  “Maybe you ought to stop being such a hothead, Jake.”

  Emma released the trigger and dropped the sprayer in the sink, torn between horror at what she’d done, anger at his callous proposal and the implication that she might never find someone else, and laughter as water ran down his face over his shocked expression and dripped onto his very expensive soaked shirt.

  There was complete silence. A heartbeat. Two. Hard hands seized her, swinging her smaller body over his shoulder as if she were a sack of potatoes. One hand came down hard on her wriggling butt, a stinging blow that made her yelp as he strode to the door and carried her outside down the long drive.

  Heat flashed across her bottom and spread deep inside, the swat triggering a different memory, or maybe it had been an erotic dream, lying across his lap, his hand coming down hard and then rubbing sensually as he was doing now.

  Her heart jumped. Where had that come from? Lately she’d been having dreams of Jake, dreams of things she’d never consciously thought about. Emma drummed at his broad back with her fists, fuming, embarrassed, not at being upside down but at the heat rising in her body and the blood surging so hotly.

  Jake delivered a second smack, this time a little harder than the first, and once again rubbed at her bottom to take the sting away, sending fire shooting through her veins. “Stop it, Emma. You so deserve this and you know it.”

  The deep growl of his voice sent an illicit thrill coursing through her bloodstream. She wished her jeans weren’t so tight or her panties so skimpy. She could feel his hand burning right through the thin material as he rubbed to ease the sting.

  She caught a glimpse of Joshua’s startled face as Jake stalked past him. She looked around quickly, seeing the direction in which they were heading, and knew instantly what he intended. “Don’t you dare, Jake.” Emma caught at the back of his shirt with both fists, realizing what he planned. “I mean it. Don’t you dare.”

  He kept walking at the same pace, with long, purposeful, ground-eating strides. Emma clutched him harder, trying desperately not to laugh at the ridiculous situation. She should have known Jake would retaliate. What ever had possessed her to spray him with the kitchen sprayer? She’d been too angry to think clearly, but it hadn’t occurred to her that Jake might ever do this. “Stop. Don’t do it.” She couldn’t help it that her voice turned to pleading. Or that laughter played around the edges. She’d always had the worst sense of humor.

  Jake swung her from his shoulder, cradling her for a moment, then held her out from his body and dropped her unceremoniously into the large horse trough. She came up sputtering, splashing water ferociously at his face, laughing so hard she could barely stand.

  Jake stood over the horse trough, water cascading over him as she used the flat of her hand to send a huge wave into the air. Time slowed down so that the droplets of water glistened like diamonds and the sun seemed to surround her head, turning her red hair into a bright halo of light and gleaming off her pearly teeth. Her laughter was infectious, melodic, irresistible, and he found himself laughing with her. Laughing. Deep inside, happiness blossomed and spread. He’d never thought much about being happy. Not like this—something simple. Something not revenge, or dark and ugly. Something not about making money. Just laughing at the absurdity of their argument.

  He reached into the trough and hauled her out, swinging her easily to the ground, one arm locked around her waist, holding her wet body against his. The air was crisp and cold and she shivered, but her laughing face was turned up toward his and—God help him—he was tempted almost beyond all control. He was beginning to understand the story of Adam and Eve.

  “You’re crazy, Emma. You know that?” His voice was gruff. Husky. He could hear the need almost as much as he felt the ache, not in his groin—although he was as hard as a rock—but in his chest. He actually pressed a hand over his heart. “Let’s get you back inside. I didn’t realize it was so cold out here.”

  She slipped under his shoulder naturally, as if she belonged there, her arm curling around his waist, still laughing up at him.

  Snickers broke out behind them and she ducked beneath Jake’s arm to peer at the ranch hands. They stood with wide grins on their faces, doubled over laughing.

  “Having a little trouble, boss?” Joshua called.

  “Need a hand there?” Darrin, another hand, yelled.

  “Hey!” Emma objected. “No cookies for either of you for a month.”

  The leopard in Jake scented genuine camaraderie, an honest shock at his out-of-character behavior and real laughter. He didn’t know how to react. A part of him wanted to join in the laughter, to share in the moment the way Emma did, to have fun. Hell. This silliness was fun. He didn’t know how to react, or even what to say, so he just grinned, waved them back to work and kept her walking toward the house, slightly uncomfortable that his work crew had seen him acting so childish, but still feeling a small glow.

  “I’m never living that one down,” Emma said, smacking his chest. “I can’t believe you dumped me in the horse trough.” She smacked him again. “And you spanked me. Sheesh, I’m not two, you know.”

  His palm immediately dropped to the enticing curve of her bottom, rubbing caresses. “I couldn’t resist.”

  She made a face. “I don’t think that was an apology.”

  “No? Imagine that.”

  She reached behind her and removed his hand. “And now you’re just being a perv.”

  He bent his head until his lips brushed her ear. “Not a perv, Emma, an opportunist.”

  Emma kept her head bent. He kissed her often, touched her often, but never with that lingering, possessive hint to his touch. Was it her imagination because she was suddenly so aware of him? Because he’d kissed her senseless with his birthday thank-you? She had to get a grip. She was so out of sorts, so restless and moody lately.

  She told herself as she lay in bed at night, unable to sleep, that she missed a man’s touch, the feel of his body. She definitely missed Andy. He’d been nothing like Jake, so different it was nearly impossible to find any common ground with the two of them.

  Andy had been fun loving and uncomplicated. He didn’t harbor obviously painful secrets. There was no intrigue about Andy at all. He was exactly what you saw—open and honest and ready to help anyone. Not closed off emotionally, as Jake was. He trusted people, and always thought the best of everyone. Jake trusted no one and expected people to double-cross him at every turn. Andy had boyish good looks and charm, where Jake was all hard edges, a brooding, dangerous man who exuded sex from every pore, a man in every sense of the word.

  Jake rarely smiled, he barked orders and he was so protective the children could barely move without bodyguards getting under their feet. She doubted if Andy would have noticed danger even if it hit him in the face, let alone simply imagined it or suspected something or someone was out to hurt them. Andy took it as his right that she would cook and bake and do all the little things she loved doing for him, where Jake always seemed shocked a
nd even a little wary of any kindnesses done for him. He noticed everything she did, and often didn’t seem to know what to say or do in return—but he noticed.

  Jake’s hand wrapped around the nape of her neck. “You’ve gone away again, Emma. You’ve been doing that a lot lately.”

  She managed a quick, reassuring smile. “I know you’ve got work to do this evening, Jake. You always do. But I made you a cake. I thought after dinner you could do the birthday thing with the kids. They’ll make a terrible mess, but they’ll love it.”

  She couldn’t keep the anxiety from her upturned face. She shouldn’t have told the children they were going to have a birthday party with him, but she’d been planning his surprise for days and they’d seen the preparations. She held her breath.

  “Emma, do I let you and the children down often?”

  She hesitated, unsure how to reply. He did everything for her and for the children. “Of course not, Jake. You take care of everything.” That at least was honest.

  He moved closer to her, trying to surround her shivering body with heat as they stood together just outside the kitchen. “I’m not talking about things like that. You have a look on your face, like you think I might ignore the party you planned. Do I do that? Not be there for you and the kids emotionally? I don’t mean to. If something is important, you need to let me know. I’m not very good at the family thing. I don’t really know what I’m doing half the time, so I follow your lead.”

  Emma took a breath and let it out, suddenly wanting to cry for him. He could do that in one heartbeat, with one revelation of his past, make her feel his vulnerability, his absolute, single-minded resolve to learn how to live in a family. She hated hurting Jake. He really did try with them, and maybe it was only with them, but every evening he was home, he tucked the kids in their beds and definitely seemed to enjoy the family dinners. He just wasn’t home often. He always asked about the children when he called, always wanted every detail, but he didn’t participate that much in actual hands-on parenting.

 

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