“Are you ticklish, bright eyes?”
But there was no answering smile on Lacey’s mouth, or in her eyes. Her mouth was full with the promise of the passion that awaited him, and her eyes, her eyes darkened with a desire that stole his breath. His hands weren’t steady as he tugged her pants off and rose quickly to remove his own.
“Be sure you want me, Lacey. There’ll be no going back.”
There was strength and power and a beauty uniquely male as Rafe stood, poised and waiting. Lacey lifted her arms in an age-old gesture of both feminine demand and longing that he come to her.
And when he did, she clung to him, almost frightened by the intensity of his wanting, even while she ached to return its measure to him. Their shared kisses were fervent, their bodies slick with sweat. Overtaken by the storm unleashed between them, tremors passed from one to the other.
Lacey cried out when he pressed his palm above the warm soft darkness unfolding at his urging. She wanted to incite him to hurry and yet never wanted the exquisite fevered strokes to stop.
Rafe turned her to her side, careful not to injure her wound. He shook with the force of his need to claim her for his own. His satisfaction came with a groan tom from deep inside him at finding her hotter than he had dreamed, satin damp and hungry for him. Her wild cries spiked his desire. Sweat gleamed on his body. With an unsteady hand he guided her thigh over his hip and demanded in a harsh, raw voice, “Open your eyes, Lacey. Watch me make you mine.”
Face to face they lay, the glistening peaks of her breasts nestled against his hair-rough chest. Lacey had to force her eyes to remain open, to see his features drawn with a pleasure so strong, it almost seemed pain. Her own eyes reflected her moment’s fear … it had been so long … but his mouth stole her moan as he came into her. With new sensitivity Rafe sensed her fear, stilled, waiting, until Lacey forced the tension to leave her.
She cradled his cheek, felt the storm that passed through him and knew an emptiness that only he could fill. He began to thrust inside her, and her breath caught, lost in the savagery of this kiss she offered him. Her fingers dug into his back. Need rushed through her. Emotions and feelings, hot and pounding, grew more intense, rioting until she could not bear another moment. Rafe gripped her buttock, lifting her with him as he rolled onto his back.
Her hair fell in a tangled curtain. Their joined lips whispered yearnings, then pleas. Lacey poised on a razor edge, then trembled as wildfire consumed her.
Rafe had waited for that first sweetly violent shiver to take her. He surged deeply into the silken heat of her. Burning now. Wanting the fire to never end. And when the flame of her became torment, rippling over him, grabbing at him, he was no longer gentle.
He knew from her cry that she burned with him and for him in that final untamed ecstasy.
Chapter 14
Sweetly aching, Lacey dreamily watched the late afternoon shadows play across the adobe wall. Rafe lay beside her, stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers, keeping her head nestled against his damp shoulder. For the first time in her life Lacey gloried in being a woman. A deep loving peace filled her, and she moved to gaze up to look at Rafe.
His eyes were closed, the passion-drawn features blunted with a lover’s satiety, his breathing even, his lips molded with the hint of a smile. With one fingertip she teased the curl of his lashes, her heart swelling with love for him. She longed to whisper those words, but she was beset by an unease that forbade it. Lacey puzzled over why this feeling should come to her now. She didn’t understand it, no more than she could understand why she obeyed it.
Sensitive to her stirring, Rafe lazily opened his eyes. A love-flush lingered on her cheeks. Suddenly shy, her lashes hid her gaze from him. He couldn’t resist the beckoning pout of her mouth and leaned down to enjoy its soft giving. And he wanted her. Now. Yet again. His palm slid along the smooth skin of her thigh, her hip, and curved to fit the swell of her breast.
Their gazes met.
“Rafe? We can’t.”
His hips nudged her belly. “I don’t seem to have much choice.” She trembled against him, and he brushed aside the thick tangle of her hair. “Want me?”
Lacey moaned softly.
“Give me your mouth, Lacey. I want that first.”
“First?”
He used his tongue to tease open the corner of her lips. “I never did get to taste all of you.”
Rafe didn’t know if the thought of having all he ever wanted or Lacey’s whispered “yes, oh, yes” sent the near explosive lightning rush of need through him. It was a need so fierce that he shook from its force. She opened to him with heat and a blinding trust that he silently swore he would shelter. And when she touched him in a lover’s gentle query, he knew it didn’t matter what had spurred the force; it was simply a part of loving Lacey.
Slowly stirring awake in the early morning hours, Lacey turned and reached out for Rafe’s warmth. He wasn’t there.
Bewildered, she sat up, shoving her hair back. “Rafe?” His name was a whisper in the room. She gripped the quilt for a moment, then pushed it aside, forcing herself to move and light the lamp. It took her eyes a few seconds to adjust, and she scanned the room.
His clothes were gone.
Seized by panic that something had happened, Lacey ran from the bed. Surely he would have awakened her. Even as satiated as she had been, she could not have slept through anyone entering the room to wake him. They had fallen asleep entwined, unable to lose that final closeness.
She slid on the still-wet floor of the bathing room and opened her own bedroom door. Lacey hadn’t expected him to be in here, but she hadn’t expected to begin to cry.
How could he have left her alone? He couldn’t have pretended to be as deeply moved as she had been by what they shared. No … No!
Lacey dressed with almost frantic haste. But she had no strength to control the ragged sobs that tore from her. She cursed every tear. This was Sy’s constant warning come to life. This is what being a woman meant. This clawing fear of being used, of being vulnerable.
She jerked her belt tight and froze. Rafe had trembled at her touch, she had heard him cry out—she could not believe that his loving had been a lie. There had to be a reason, a damned good reason why he had left her.
Quietly closing the door to her room, Lacey glanced up at the first pink streaks of dawn lighting the night sky, and then her gaze was drawn across from her. There was a thin stream of light coming from beneath the office door.
Lacey was drawn toward the stream of light as surely as she had been drawn by the silken savagery of Rafe’s desire for her. She refused to allow one question to crowd her mind as she reached for the gleaming brass handle to open the door. To her shock, the door was locked.
Rafe jumped up from behind the desk at the first rattle at the door. He was there in moments, unlocking it, regret clouding his eyes as he looked at Lacey.
“What are you doing in here, Rafe?”
Confusion colored her voice, but her gaze was furious. And he found that he couldn’t meet her eyes. He swore to himself for losing track of the time. The brilliant sheen of her eyes said more than any words. He moved to gather her into his arms, but Lacey took him by surprise, shoving him aside.
Shadowed corners of the room gave way to a bright circle of lamplight on the desk. She barely glanced at the half-empty decanter of liquor; her gaze targeted the papers scattered over the top.
“I asked you what you are doing in here, Rafe.”
“Lacey, listen. I didn’t mean to leave you. I—”
“That no longer matters,” she snapped, dragging up the remnants of her pride.
He eyed her rigid back and clenched his teeth with a grating sound. “Don’t put your pride up like a sodbuster’s wall between us, princess. I warned you there would be no going back.” He slamme
d the door closed and found satisfaction in the way she spun around toward him, her cry soft when he locked the door and pocketed the key.
“There’s no need to lock it, Rafe. I’m not the one who runs.”
“Don’t goad me. I didn’t want to have you wake up alone. I … Oh, hell! You’re not listening to me.”
“I haven’t heard one word worth hearing.” Her gaze and voice were bitter and cold, but she had to stifle a surge of compassion when he rubbed the back of his neck, a look of defeat in his eyes. “Tell me why you came in here.”
“Where’s my woman?”
With a defiant gaze Lacey’s chin rose. “She’s lost somewhere in the tangled sheets on your bed. Only don’t rush out to find her. She wasn’t real, Rafe. She wasn’t … anything.”
“Ramera!” he swore with a soft violence that made her flinch.
“From your tone I believe I’ll thank you for whatever you called me. It has to be better than the lies you whispered. And I’m still waiting for an answer.”
“How much do you know about the notes that Sy signed against the sale of the cattle?”
“As much as I need to. Worried, Rafe? Don’t be. I’ll make sure you get your fair share.”
His stance tautened with deadly menace. “I warned you once, princess. I won’t do it again.”
Lacey retreated toward the massive stone fireplace to put distance between them. What had happened? Why was he doing this now? She stared at the man she had thought her lover, a man that held no secrets, and found that she looked into the chilling eyes of a stranger. It was as if the hours they had been together had never happened. Lacey trembled, but his gaze compelled her to answer.
“It wasn’t for any special reason that he signed them. I mean, nothing happened that we needed the money. When I asked him about it, he refused to discuss it. Sy did not invite questions about money or his orders. When he extended the notes in the spring, I kept quiet. Even with the loss of a few hundred head, we should be able to pay them off.” Nervously fingering her belt, Lacey gathered her courage. “Now that I’ve answered you … tell me why you have this sudden interest to know?”
“I went to Austin to see the judge. That’s where I was, Lacey, not with April.”
“Why? Were you trying to find a way to break the will or pull out?”
He wished he could believe that the flare in her eyes was hope that he would say no, but Rafe couldn’t lie to himself. The thought that she wanted him to say yes set his teeth on edge. He had lost more ground than he first believed and didn’t know how he was going to recover it.
“No,” he finally answered. “I’m not pulling out. But the bank is no longer holding the notes. Someone bought them and no one knows who it is.” He moved toward the desk, unable to tell her that he had had the same idea, for those notes would give him a hold on the Reina that Lacey couldn’t buy her way out of. She avoided looking at him, and he knew he had hurt her. Gut instinct warned that this wasn’t the time to tell her about the special bequest that Sy had left to him. Nothing would make him forget yesterday. Whatever reasons Curt Blaine had for withholding that letter Sy wrote to Lacey, he knew it bought him time. And maybe she was right. Curt might have been trying to give him a chance to start clean. God knew, Lacey wouldn’t have run like hot honey in his arms if she had read that letter.
Lacey stared at the floor, her hands shoved into her pockets. If what Rafe said was true, it could mean disaster for them unless every head reached the railhead at Kansas.
“I still don’t understand what made you check on this.”
“Call it a hunch I had after you were shot. With one of us dead and the other blamed, whoever has those notes could move in and take the Reina. It wasn’t a secret that you wanted me out. But then, with my past it would be damned easy to prove I was the one that shot you.”
“No! I never thought that!”
“I never said you did. But if you were killed, who could prove I didn’t do it? They know we’re hard-pressed for ready cash, and while it cost plenty to buy those notes, one less partner—”
“They! What makes you think it’s anyone but Darcy? Does his daughter—”
“The judge,” he cut in. “He had already ruled out Darcy as not having the money. And just once, leave April out of it.” The wounded look in her eyes pierced him. He’d had enough of talk that only served to drive them further apart. Stalking her until she was cornered, Rafe ignored her struggle to push him away. With a firm grip on her shoulders he demanded, “Do you believe that April or any woman could mean something to me after the way you gave yourself to me? Doesn’t this say it all…?”
His kiss was brutal. A savage invasion that shook her. His lips seem to devour her, making her weak, stripping her defenses. Softly cruel, his mouth held hers captive, stealing her breath, leaving her nothing as he claimed the dark warmth of her mouth. Lacey ceased struggling when his thumbs pressed the soft sides of her breasts. His hands swept up, his fingers sinking into her hair, holding her head immobile as if he was afraid she would escape. And finally the hunger, the wildness he had shown her, rose up, blinding her to anger, to doubts, stilling her fears until she cried out, wanting him.
“Marry me,” he whispered, lifting his head. Her eyes were lambent and glazed with longing, and he gave her no chance to refuse him. His mouth was at once predator taking hers prey and a lover’s promise to cherish.
And when he released her, Lacey held him tight, her voice trembling. “I’m afraid of you. I’m afraid of what you make me feel, Rafe. If I many you, I lose—”
“No. No one loses. The Reina will belong to both of us. It’s what Sy would’ve wanted. When we have a child … Christ! Look at me. I’m shaking for want of you.” He dropped his hand and splayed it across her flat stomach. Both their gazes looked down as he pressed lightly. “You could be carrying my seed now.” With his other hand he tilted her face up. “Would you like that, Lacey? Would you have my baby?”
The depth of the desire in his eyes and something almost vulnerable broke Lacey’s last defense. “A baby—”
“You first, a home, and then a baby,” he murmured, pressing kisses to her bared throat.
“Rafe … I need—”
“I know.”
“…time,” she finished. “And I can’t think when you—”
“I know that, too.” He pulled her tight against him, desperate to hear the words he needed. “Say yes, Lacey. Say that all this sweet hot fire is mine. Always.”
“Yes. For always.”
In the days that followed, days of hot golden sun that melted away into nights of softly raging passion, Lacey and Rafe were lost in a world of their own. As if the world were at peace with their joy, nothing marred their happiness.
The rustlings had ceased, and the constant vigil was eased while Lacey shared the beauty of the Reina with Rafe. Each place was marked forever in her memory with their abandoned lovemaking. Sometimes teasing laughter spread from a fragrant grove of pine as long, spicy needles hanging overhead lent protective boughs to shield the lovers entwined below. She led him to streams hidden in the mountains, where they bathed in sun-warmed waters and shared dreams whispered against the cascading flow of turbulent mountain runoffs.
Lacey opened herself like the glory of a rose coming into full bloom. Every exquisite joining was a reaffirmation of her being a woman, in love and loved in return. There was a feverish greed in her to see the proud set of Rafe’s shoulders as he worked or gave orders to the men. His slow smile, the wicked teasing, the cherishing look in his eyes made her give not only herself but almost complete control of the ranch to him.
On this sun-drenched morning she dressed with a decided anticipation, for Rafe had been gone for two nights. They had made plans to meet this afternoon at one of the line shacks. Lacey smiled, thinking of the picnic lunch she intended to bring wi
th her and the hunger Rafe would satisfy afterward. Her hands stilled in the act of buttoning her green cotton shirt. It was all so perfect—how could it last? The desire between them was an ember set to flame by the merest touch, the briefest meeting of gazes. She willed the disturbing thought away and forced herself to finish dressing. Once her braid was securely fastened, she hurried to the kitchen.
Maggie beamed what was now a familiar indulgent smile, and they worked, Lacey frying chicken, Maggie shelling peas fresh from their garden, in companionable silence.
When Lacey set a platter of chicken on the table, Maggie said, “I’ve made fresh biscuits and saved pie for your lunch. Does my body good to see you two so happy, honey.”
Lacey gave her a quick hug and sighed with contentment. If Maggie had told her weeks ago that she would be eager to please Rafe and share all she could with him, she would have rebelled with the very spirit of her being.
She grabbed a basket from the pantry and left Maggie to pack the lunch while she went down to the barn to saddle her horse.
“Ain’t seen much of you lately,” greeted Bo as she came out of the tack room.
Slinging the saddle over the end stall, Lacey saw that he was still limping. For a few moments they spoke of ranch business, and then Lacey asked, “Why haven’t you been up to the house, Bo? Is your leg bothering you so much?”
“Ain’t to worry yourself. Aches some, but it don’t stop me from doin’ what needs to get done.” Bo watched her brush down the silvery hide of the horse Evan had given her. “You’re real happy with Rafe, ain’t you?”
“Yes, I am.” She stopped and glanced at him. “Do you like him, Bo? I know how Maggie and Fletcher feel, but you’ve never said.”
“He makes you smile like sunshine, Lacey. That’s good enough for me. You ain’t bothered ’bout Sy not being your pa anymore?”
For a moment her eyes darkened, but she smoothed the saddle blanket over the horse’s back. “I still think about it, Bo. Maybe someday I’ll find out the truth. I need this time with Rafe. Both of us need it,” she added with a fierce note. Bo slung the saddle on, and she cinched the belly strap tight while he bridled the horse. They parted in silence, but Bo stood watching her as Luke and Evan Darcy rode in.
Western Winds Page 17