Contents
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Lori Connelly
About HarperImpulse
About the Publisher
HarperImpulse an imprint of
HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd
77–85 Fulham Palace Road
Hammersmith, London W6 8JB
www.harpercollins.co.uk
First published in Great Britain by HarperImpulse 2013
Copyright © Lori Connelly
Cover Images © Shutterstock.com
Lori Connelly asserts the moral right
to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is
available from the British Library
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are
the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is
entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International
and Pan-American Copyright Conventions.
By payment of the required fees, you have been granted
the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access
and read the text of this e-book on screen.
No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted,
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stored in or introduced into any information storage and
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written permission of HarperCollins.
Ebook Edition © November 2013
ISBN: 9780007544509
Version 2014-10-03
Digital eFirst: Automatically produced by Atomik ePublisher from Easypress.
For my Bear, always.
Chapter One
Fall 1891 Fir Mountain, Oregon
Energy crackled in the air. Wind howled and thunder roared, loud and intense. Clouds obscured the sky, darkening the midday hour, as rain streamed from the heavens.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Claire McConkey smiled in response to his gruff, inhospitable greeting and moved closer. “Why?”
Lightening streaked across the dull grayness above, illuminating her finely boned, heart shaped face. Dark brown hair blackened by water clung in tangles. The sight tugged at his deep need to protect her, but he fought it off with cold, hard reason. Another man might think the petite woman who stood only chest high before him, slender to the point that a stiff wind might blow her away, needed coddling. Her delicate appearance misled many. Sheriff Matthew Marston knew better.
Matt stepped out on the covered porch of his family’s log cabin. She didn’t yield ground. Their bodies brushed, and awareness flared. He closed the door behind him to keep her out of his refuge, sidestepping to put some space between them.
“Go home,” he ordered bluntly, his tone firm.
As always, eyes the same rich color as her hair mesmerized him. Claire never veiled emotion. When laughter sparkled in the depths of her eyes, her delight was infectious. If angered, one look would scorch whoever had earned her ill humor. He’d never had to guess what she was feeling, until now. His weight shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. Her gaze shone with an intensity that unsettled him.
“But I’m soaked and frozen through. Won’t you ask me in?”
“No.” He was certain she was up to something, playing with him. Her soft request only hardened his resolve.
An eyebrow arched at his swift denial. “You’d let me catch my death walking in the storm?”
His eyes narrowed. Matt studied Claire for a long moment, jaw clenched, suspicion high. Mere weeks had passed since the woman who’d held his heart from the time she’d worn ponytails and he chased frogs had rejected him. She’d inflicted a wound that festered, refusing to heal. The memory haunted his quiet moments. He couldn’t understand how she could kiss him with soul searing passion one minute and then with her next breath calmly tell him that their wedding was off.
Nothing makes sense anymore. Matt sighed, and then opened the door. With a sweep of his arm, he waved her in.
“As soon as the weather clears, I’ll escort you home.”
“Hmm.” Her fingers brushed his sleeve. Claire stepped forward then paused in the doorway. Her voice was low-pitched, husky. “Could you help me? I’m afraid I feel faint.”
Matt snorted. The wilting violet routine wasn’t going to work. Her family had moved in next to his when they were both children. He’d known this strong willed woman for the majority of his life. Her supposed weakness was frankly unbelievable. Yet as twin pools of melted chocolate held his gaze, a soft plea reflected in her large eyes, his resistance softened. He shook his head even though he acted as a gentleman, and offered her his arm.
Inside, the cozy living area offered warmth, with orange flames snapping in the fireplace. Two roughly hewn chairs angled in front of it, turned from the table, created a sense of welcome. Only moments before, he’d been sitting in one, legs up, well-worn boots on the seat of the other; the most relaxed he’d been in a long while. Her arrival had shattered his peace.
Claire released her hold on the sheriff. He watched her as she walked over to stretch out her hands to the heat. Faint my-
His thought broke off as she turned sideways. Thick, dark lashes masked her eyes, but Matt felt her study him. Her hands went to the buttons on her cloak then dropped leaving the dripping garment still fastened.
“Would you help me please?”
The demure tone and posture was so completely out of character his gut tightened. “No.”
“Matthew.” Her voice soft as a caress drew out his full name. “My fingers are so cold, I can’t work the buttons.”
“They’ll warm.”
“Please.” She shivered to great effect.
Matt didn’t believe her wide-eyed innocent expression for a second, but again he couldn’t resist her. He stomped across the room. His boots hit the floor planks with satisfying thuds. As soon as the sheriff reached her, he went to work.
Claire leaned forward, a subtle shift. Soft curves brushed his palm. Matt sucked in a deep breath. He hurried, focused on completing the task. As soon as one button came undone, he moved to the next.
Her hands came up, resting on his forearms. The icy contact sent shock waves through him. He swallowed hard. His fingers fumbled. A full moment passed before Matt could manage another button’s release.
Only three to go. Her fingertips brushed up then down over his flesh. Her breath a soft sigh on his skin, sweat broke out on his forehead.
“Claire.”
“Yes?” Her sugar sweet tone matched her expression.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?”
He cleared his throat. “It’s not appropriate.”
“What’s not?” Another button popped open. “You mean this?” Her touch slid up his biceps.
“Yes.” Matt grabbed her wrists, pushing them down and away.
“I’m only warming my hands.”
His teeth gritted together, patience thinning. “Try putting them in your pockets.”
“I’d rather put them in yours.” Her voice a purr, she made a bold move when he released his hold.
“Claire,” he growled, but far from feeling intimidated, her smile broadened while her fingers wiggled into the pockets of his pants. “You’re playing with fire.”<
br />
“I know,” she breathed against the tanned skin at the base of his throat as he unfastened her last button. The serviceable brown wool cloak fell unheeded to the floor.
His hands clasped her shoulders and gently set her apart from him. “Stay by the fire. I’ll ride over and tell your folks you’re here-”
“Go out in this weather? No, I won’t hear of it.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Are you saying a man can brave a downpour unscathed but a poor little woman must be sheltered from rain, lest she melt?”
Her challenge, softly and sweetly delivered, yet threaded with steel was pure Claire. Hearing a normal response from her eased some of his tension. “Of course not, I’m just trying to be helpful.”
“Oh … ” Her tone gentled. “Then I’d suggest warming me.”
Matt stepped back. “Just stay by the fire. I’ll be-”
“Please don’t go, stay with me.” Claire moved toward him.
He continued to retreat. “Your family will worry.”
“They won’t,” she assured him with a soft smile. “They took the boys to town this morning, won’t be back for hours.”
Distinct unease settled over the sheriff like a scratchy blanket. He stilled. “They left you alone?”
“Yes.” She paused. A flicker of strong emotion showed in her eyes then they blanked. Her face became a polite mask, as Claire looked him up and down, slow. “They trust me Matt. I’m eighteen and capable.”
Frustration raced through his blood. She acted as though nothing had changed. Her only nod to caution when she roamed the countryside was the six-shooter she had belted around her hips. She refused to understand that a weapon wouldn’t protect her in every scenario. He tried to hold back the words that would reignite their last argument, but couldn’t.
“That gun won’t solve everything.”
“Between that and my good sense, you need to trust that I’ll manage.”
I trusted your judgment before and nearly lost you. Matt almost snapped at her. Instead, he chose another approach and managed to speak evenly. “And yet you were caught out in a storm that anyone could see has been brewing for hours.”
Her gaze warmed. “Believe me. I took note of the weather.” She unstrapped her gun belt, slung it over a chair back. “But I thought it worth the risk to see you.”
Heat shot through him even as Matt shook his head. “You’re trying to distract me from my point.”
“Am I?”
“You know what you’re doing.”
“I wasn’t denying it.” Claire smiled. “I wanted to know if I was succeeding.”
He leveled a look at her and answered in a flat tone, “yes you are.”
“Good.”
“No, it’s not. You’re smart and skilled but you’re a–”
“Woman?” Her eyes seemed to darken.
“Yes and–”
“I’m glad you noticed.” Her words were silkily smooth as her fingers moved to the top button of her bodice.
Stunned, his gaze followed the movement. Words died on his tongue. Lips still parted, his heart skipped a beat when she started unfastening her green as grass blouse. Although he’d tried hard to bury it, the desire for Claire burned as strongly as ever. He’d missed her so much.
His hands curled into fists. They would be husband and wife now if only she would … He tensed, rigid as a board.
“Stop.”
Silent, her gaze steady on his, she ignored him, freeing one button after another until the material parted. His gaze moved down to the shadowy valley between her breasts, enticed. The sight tantalized him for some seconds before he took action. He closed the distance between them and grabbed her wrists.
“I said stop.”
“Why?” Claire pressed closer.
Matt brought her arms down to her sides, releasing her only in order to reach up and pull her clothing back together. She rubbed her length against him, not discouraged in the slightest amount. His breath quickened. Her firm bounty slid against his hand. The touch of her bare flesh stole any rational thought he had left.
Heat coursed through him. His fingers moved in the barest motion of a caress. Her sigh feathered his skin. Before he had time to think logically again, she stood on her toes, looped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to cover his mouth with hers.
Her heart raced. Held in the circle of his arms, his body felt lean and strong, the embrace shot pleasure along her nerves. Her fingers played with raven black hair, neatly trimmed and combed in place as always, which made her want to ruffle it wild.
Eagerly, her hands moved, stroking broad shoulders then down over arms of muscle gained by hard labor. Despite long hours upholding the law, Matt often helped his parents on their farm. He’d told her that the mindless chores helped him keep life in perspective. She found that selflessness as attractive as the physical form the work produced.
Claire broke off the kiss. For a second she admired the man who’d stolen her heart. His handsome features were tense, his expression creased in serious lines. Eyes of light brown with flecks of green and gold focused on her. His lips parted. She shook her head, forestalling his speech.
Guided by instinct, driven by longing, Claire nibbled along his jaw. His rapid breath rewarded her. Fingertips touched her face. She looked up, into his eyes. Shivers shot down her spine as desire intoxicated her.
The need to touch him became irresistible. With one hand, Claire plucked at the buttons of his faded flannel shirt. Soft fabric parted and she slipped her fingers inside, sweeping them over the bare plains of his stomach and then up over his chest.
“Claire I–”
“Want me?” Her tone was bold, certain of his answer.
His hand gripped her chin. “God help me, yes.”
His mouth captured hers in a wild kiss while his hands moved, restless, over her back. Passion blazed. The kiss bruised with intensity. One hand caressed her back while the other tangled in her hair. His tongue teased her lips. She matched his action, and tasted his.
Matt broke contact with a groan. “Claire I-”
Her hands went to his shirtfront, opened more buttons, and parted the sides, exposing flesh. Matt drew back. His hands moved, his touch light, fingertips trailing down the side of her neck down to her bodice where they stilled. She couldn’t stop her small sigh of objection.
“Are you sure?”
Without hesitation, she answered, her voice strong and clear. “Yes.”
“But I think–”
“Don’t.” Her hand snaked up his chest, over his collarbone to curve over the back of his neck. “Just kiss me again.”
“But–”
With her mouth, she silenced him. Matt made no further objection. His fingers worked with swift efficiency. Her top soon gapped open and the heat of his hands burned through her thin chemise to knead her sensitive flesh.
Impatiently, Claire tugged his shirt free of his pants then off his shoulders. She tossed it away. Her hands roamed over tanned skin. He growled low in his throat.
Pleased at his response, Claire pulled back. She wanted to draw this out. His hands tightened as if reluctant to release her but after a moment, he did.
Her gaze locked on him, she stepped back. Sweat glistened on his skin. The sound of ragged breathing filled the room.
“Claire I … ” His voice trailed off as she took another step so that she stood by a chair, the fire behind her. Matt shook his head a dazed look on his face. “I got carried away.”
Silent, she let her gaze wander, over his heaving chest, his stomach, down past the waistband of his denims then slowly back up to look him in the eye.
Voice ragged, his hands curled to fists. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m…” She paused. Her fingers went to the open neck of her shirt, and started releasing the last few buttons. “Not.”
With slow, deliberate movements, she eased the fabric down first one arm then the other. Claire pulled her top free. Mat
t sucked in an audible breath. She smiled and let her clothing slip off, dropping to the floor.
Her hands went to the back of her waist, to the fastening of her brown skirt. His gaze dropped to her chest as though he couldn’t help himself when her action thrust it forward. When he looked back up, the hunger in his gaze made her tremble. He started to move toward her but stopped at the shake of her head.
“Claire,” he groaned when a second later her skirt fell to her feet.
Bathed in firelight, clad only in her undergarments, Claire knew she made an enticing image. Her smile broadened. Slowly she reached up and hooked her fingers around the thin straps of her chemise, intending to drive him wild.
“Claire stop,” he warned his tone low and dangerous.
Straps fell off her shoulders. “Why?”
“Because if you-”
“If I what?” She eased one arm free.
“Claire.”
She pulled her other arm out. One hand held the thin white cotton barely in place. “Yes Matthew.”
“If you remove one more thing, I’ll snatch you up and take you to my bed.”
Fabric fell about her waist, her breasts bare. “Promise?”
Chapter Two
Matt moved as swiftly as the lightening that had crossed the sky. His arms wrapped around her, holding her tight against him, bare chest to bare chest. His mouth hovered above hers. She felt his hot breath on her lips.
Anticipation heightened the tension between them. Her heart thundered. Seconds passed. Then, as he’d warned, Matt swept her up into his arms. A few long strides carried them out of the main room and into a small bedroom.
Matt didn’t pause to shut the door. He crossed over to the narrow bed, sat on the covers then twisted around, pressing her down so that she lay on her back, half underneath him. Skin to skin, the heat generated between them set her nerves on fire. His mouth descended, plundering hers. One hand was braced to keep his weight from crushing her while the other roamed her body, over her hip, ribs, to cup her bare breast.
The Lawman of Silver Creek Page 1