She squelched a startled gasp. “Teague,” she breathed on a whisper and moved toward him. Instantly, her heart fluttered in her chest and warmth spread through her body. “What are you doing here?”
He said nothing as he entered the room, tossed his hat on the desk beneath the window, and swept her into his arms, despite the fact his clothes were wet. He stared deeply into her eyes before his mouth took possession of hers, demanding a response.
And she gave one, opening her lips beneath the pressure, darting her tongue against his, thrilled beyond measure. She plunged her fingers into his hair, pulling his head closer, wanting more.
He picked her up and carried her to the bed, even though it was only a few steps away, and laid her down so gently, her breath stuck in her lungs. She studied his face and noticed how his forehead creased. The dark slash of his brows were knitted, too, but his eyes held passion, the color reminding her of the storm-laden sky. And something else she couldn’t discern. Sorrow? Worry? Regret? “Teague? What’s wrong?”
He said nothing, just shed his wet clothes in silence, his dark gray gaze never leaving her face, not even when he joined her on the bed and his mouth lowered to hers. And then his hands were everywhere, smoothing over her silky nightgown, pushing the edges of the deep V neckline away so he could touch her skin, his palm stroking across her nipples, making them pucker, sending sparks of desire to her very core. His mouth followed his hand, his lips lightly grazing a hard peak.
Ryleigh sucked in her breath, her fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. Without a word, he obeyed, drawing the rigid crest into his mouth, his teeth lightly nipping at her while his hand smoothed over her belly and lower. He gripped a handful of her silk nightgown and dragged it up her legs, then sunk his hand between her thighs, his fingers finding her entrance, while his palm pressed against the key to her bliss. Her hips rose off the bed with the force of the sensations whipping through her, and a long sigh escaped her.
She was ready, wet with wanting, the heaviness of expectation growing deep within her when he settled between her thighs and pushed into her, the hard length of him filling her. He pulled out, then drove into her again . . . and again, harder, faster. Panting, sweat glistening on her body and his, she met him thrust for thrust, her legs holding his thighs prisoner, her hips tilted to feel him more deeply.
His rhythm changed, becoming slower. More gentle. New sensations careened through her, making her gasp for breath. The heaviness in her belly built, until she couldn’t stand the weight. She was close, so close to what she now knew would happen. An explosion awaited her . . . and she wanted it, wanted to experience that moment of floating, of reaching out to touch the stars, the resulting bliss so perfect, she wanted to weep.
He groaned, his muscles stiffening as he ground into her. The heat of his essence filled her, the throbbing of his body pushing her over the precipice into ecstasy. She cried out from the intensity of those sensations, her body pulsing around him as her legs tightened, holding him deep within her.
Teague withdrew, then gathered her close as he lay beside her. Ryleigh snuggled against his warmth and studied his face in profile. Something wasn’t right. She could tell by his expression. It was closed, his emotions completely hidden. Not only had he withdrawn physically, but emotionally as well.
There had been something different in the way he’d made love to her just now, too, a sense of desperation in his touch, almost as if he was memorizing the feel of her.
She rose up on her elbow, her gaze searching his face. A muscle jumped in his jaw. When he turned to glance at her, she sucked in her breath, touched and a little startled by what she saw in his eyes. There was sadness in their smoky gray depths she hadn’t seen since she walked into his office and demanded he tell her his story. It hurt her now just as much as it did then. “What’s wrong, Teague?” She hated the tightness in her own voice.
He took a deep breath but wouldn’t look at her, his focus now on the ceiling above them. “I’m sending Desi Lyn and Mrs. Calvin away,” he admitted finally, his voice thick with emotion.
“Because of Logan?”
He said nothing, simply nodded as if he couldn’t speak.
Sympathy brought tears to her eyes. “I’m sorry. I know how much you love that little girl. I know you’ll miss her. Miss them both.”
He still said nothing, didn’t acknowledge her statement at all. She studied his handsome face and saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. “You can’t stay here either, Ryleigh. You need to go back to San Francisco.”
“What? Why?”
“Don’t you see? It isn’t safe. Until I know what Logan has planned, it’ll never be safe. I’ll spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder until either I kill him or he kills me. I can’t do that to you. I won’t. Four days from now, when I put Mrs. Calvin and Desi Lyn on the stagecoach, I want you to be on it, too.”
“But―”
“No buts,” he interrupted, his face set, that muscle in his jaw throbbing. “I will tolerate no arguments on this, Ryleigh. My mind is made up.”
“Your mind!” she cried, incredulous that he should make such a decree and simply expect her to follow it. Didn’t he know her at all? “What about mine?”
“It doesn’t matter. I need you to be on that stagecoach.”
“I beg your pardon.” Ryleigh scrambled off the mattress, the silkiness of her nightgown untwisting and flowing to the floor. She stood by the bed and glared at him, her hands shaking. Indeed, her entire body trembled. “I don’t know who you think you are, but I don’t have to take orders from you.”
Teague returned her glare as he, too, came to his feet, grabbed his trousers, and pulled them on. He didn’t take the time to button them. “This is not open for debate, Ryleigh.”
She shook her head, outrage making it difficult to draw breath, or even see clearly. “This is not a debate. This is my life . . . and you are not my father! I’m not leaving!”
He picked up his shirt next and slipped into it, but didn’t bother buttoning that, either. “You will be on that stagecoach―” he breathed heavily, his eyes boring into her with such intensity, Ryleigh flinched and took a step back, “―in four days’ time, even if I have to pick you up and put you there myself.” He grabbed his boots but didn’t put them on, instead just holding them in his hand. “End of discussion!” And with that, he left the room through the French doors, his footsteps, despite not having his boots on, heavy and fast on the wooden floorboards.
Stunned, she could only stand there, her body trembling. Anger burned within her. Disappointment, too, and a host of other emotions she didn’t care to name. The realization that he’d made love to her as a way of saying goodbye hurt, making her even more furious.
She fisted her hands, took a deep breath, and finally moved to chase him down, intending to finish the argument, but he’d already disappeared. She caught his shadow as he stalked through the garden behind the hotel. His steps were quick, almost a run. She took two steps toward the back stairs then remembered she only wore her nightgown. Taking a deep breath, she gripped the wooden porch railing and watched him disappear into the darkness of the night.
We’ll just see about that, Teague MacDermott! If you think I’m just going to blindly follow orders because you said so, you’re sadly mistaken!
• • •
“You be good for Uncle Eamon and Aunt Theo.” Teague kept his voice upbeat.
“Okay.” Desi Lyn studied him with big, round eyes, shiny with tears. Her chin trembled as did her voice, and it nearly broke his heart, but this was the best decision. The right thing to do. He didn’t think he could live with himself if Desi Lyn got caught in the crossfire when Logan came to town to exact his revenge. It had been hard enough losing Kieran, Mary, and Matthew. There was no way in hell he would lose her, too.
Pete pulled his pocket watch and checked the time. “We got to go, Teague. Got a schedule to keep.”
“Just give me one more m
inute.” He smoothed Desi Lyn’s hair behind her ear, then looked at the hotel, fully expecting to see Ryleigh come through the door. Whether she liked it or not, she would see reason and do as he told her to do, of that he was certain.
He hadn’t seen her since that night when he told her she’d have to leave, intentionally avoiding her and the ready argument he knew she’d throw at him. He wasn’t in the mood to hear it. Didn’t she know how difficult the decision had been for him? Didn’t she realize it would break his heart to see her go?
A broken heart he could deal with. Her death on his conscience, he couldn’t.
Another precious minute ticked by, and still, she had yet to make an appearance. Teague let out a long, beleaguered sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe she was just late.
He shook his head, acknowledging the fact that he lied to himself. She wasn’t coming. He should have known better, should have acknowledged exactly how stubborn that woman could be. Hell, he should have kept her under lock and key until the stage arrived.
He faced Mrs. Calvin, impatience coloring his voice, which came out much too harsh. “Well?”
The woman shrugged and cocked an eyebrow, her clear green eyes boring into his. “Well, what? I told you, she wouldn’t come out of her room. She said she wasn’t coming with us and that you couldn’t make her.” Her voice and attitude were harsher than usual.
Frustrated that Ryleigh wasn’t following the direct order he’d given her, he ground out between clenched teeth, “We’ll just see about that.”
He didn’t walk into the hotel. He thundered into it. “I’ll pay for the door,” he said to Krissa behind the registration desk as he passed her by, then bounded up the stairs, his footsteps heavy on each riser. At the top of the stairs, he turned left and strode to the corner room.
“Ryleigh!” He knocked on the door, not with his knuckles, but with his entire fist. The wooden panels of the door bowed beneath the pressure.
“I’m not going!” she yelled through the closed portal.
“Yes, you are, dammit!” He kicked at the door, where the lock would be. The door frame splintered as did a portion of the door itself. The lock fell uselessly to the floor, and Teague booted it aside as he entered the room.
Ryleigh backed toward the French doors, those violet blue eyes of hers wide and glittering with anger and indignation. He stared at her, hands on his hips. “I thought I made myself crystal clear. You’re leaving town with Desi Lyn and Mrs. Calvin.”
“And I told you I wasn’t going.” She straightened to her full height, which was impressive, her cheeks flushed. “I told you I wasn’t taking orders from you!”
“I don’t have time for this, Ryleigh. Get your things. You have to leave now.”
She drew in her breath, her chest moving beneath the lacy periwinkle blouse she wore. She folded her arms and glowered at him. “I most certainly will not.”
He almost grinned. Almost. “Then you leave me no choice. I told you what would happen.” Without another word, he strode into the room, picked her up, and slung her over his shoulder before she could even move.
Ryleigh let out a startled scream that ended in a breathless whoosh as the air left her lungs. She soon gained her breath. “Put . . . me . . . down! You have . . . no right!”
“I have every right! I love you, dammit! And I don’t want to see you hurt. Can’t you understand?”
That stilled her, but not for long. “Teague! I demand―”
“You can demand all you want, but it’s not going to change a damn thing. You’re getting on that stagecoach and getting out of town!”
Several people came out of the dining room to see what all the noise was about, but he ignored them as he pounded down the stairs, strode through the lobby, and outside where he unceremoniously dumped her on the floor of the stagecoach, then slammed the door closed.
“Go, Pete! Now!”
The man didn’t wait for another order. He snapped the reins with one hand and cracked the whip with his other, something he very seldom did. Startled by the sound, the matched pair of bays jerked the stagecoach forward.
Ryleigh gave a frustrated screech followed by an unladylike oomph, which brought a smile of satisfaction to Teague’s face, as the stagecoach picked up speed and headed out of Paradise Falls.
He stood in the middle of the road long after the vehicle disappeared, his focus on the dust settling back to earth, aware that several guests of the Prentice Hotel were standing on the porch, watching him and whispering among themselves. A woman sniffed and spoke to her companion, loud enough for him to hear. “Well, if that’s how the sheriff acts when he loves someone, I’d hate to see what he’d do if he didn’t.”
“Are you all right?” Krissa came up beside him and laid her hand on his arm. He turned to face her, and she sucked in her breath, her hazel eyes wide.
“Sorry about the door.” He pulled several bills from his pocket and pressed them into the woman’s hand then walked away, his heart heavy in his chest.
• • •
Ryleigh managed to pull herself up to a sitting position and fix her skirts, which had ridden up to her knees, even though the stagecoach seemed to hit every bump and rut in the road. “How dare he!” She was madder than, as her mother always said, a wet hen. Lucky reached down and clasped her upper arm, dragging her up to the seat beside him.
“Are you all right?” he asked in his lazy drawl, his smile a bit condescending.
She shot him a withering glare, her face flaming with humiliation. She gritted her teeth and ground out, “Do I look all right?”
“No, ma’am,” he said, the smile on his face disappearing. He folded his arms across his chest, settled back in his seat and closed his eyes, apparently unwilling to further engage her in any kind of conversation.
“Miss Ryleigh, you sure look mad!” Desi Lyn chimed in, her wide smile showing off her two missing teeth.
“I am mad.” She forced herself to smile at the girl and keep her temper in check. Desi Lyn didn’t deserve her anger. No, that she’d save for the girl’s arrogant, completely contemptuous uncle.
Desi Lyn giggled. “You got pretty petticoats! I saw them when Uncle T dropped you on the floor. That was funny!”
“I didn’t think so.” With effort, she kept her voice from striking a strident cord. It wasn’t Desi Lyn’s fault Teague had behaved like an overbearing, egotistical ass. Like her own father. Well, damn it, he wasn’t her father. She turned her attention to Mrs. Calvin. “How could you let him do that to me?”
The woman shook her head, then held up her gloved hands. “I stood right outside your door and begged you to get on the stagecoach under your own free will. I told you what would happen if you defied Teague. You didn’t believe me. I think you said, ‘He can’t make me.’” She grinned and shrugged. “Looks like he made you.”
Ryleigh couldn’t say anything to that. She had been warned and now paid for her stubbornness. She should have hidden from him, should have made herself scarce long before the stagecoach was due to arrive so he couldn’t find her. She’d been stupid, thinking he wouldn’t follow through on his threats.
And now look at her! Despite being angry enough to spit nails, she was still surprised and thrilled down to her toes by his declaration of love, but instead of showing him that she loved him, too, she was heading out of town at breakneck speed, her clothing wrinkled and dusty from being unceremoniously dumped on the floor. She didn’t have her reticule, either, which meant she had no money aside from the few dollars she always tucked in her shoe. It certainly wasn’t enough to purchase a ticket to San Francisco, but then, she didn’t plan on it anyway. It might be enough to purchase a fare to Paradise Falls though. She’d be back in town in a few hours and wouldn’t he be surprised.
As if reading her mind, Mrs. Calvin dug into her drawstring bag and pulled out a small square of cardstock, the size of a playing card. “In case you were wondering,” she handed the ticket to her, “Teague purchased your
train fare for San Francisco.” Her hand lingered on Ryleigh’s and an expression came over her face, one of compassion and genuine fondness. “Now, I’m going to talk to you like I would my own daughter. Use the ticket. Do as he asked. It’s important to him for reasons you already know.”
Ryleigh gave a slight nod but didn’t speak. She sat back against the seat, the ticket in her hand making her palm damp, every muscle in her body taut as she planned exactly how to make her escape.
No one told her what to do, least of all Sheriff MacDermott. Even if he did say that he loved her.
• • •
Weary and heart-sore, Teague ambled up the street, Shotgun by his side, the moon’s glow illuminating his path.
He’d taken the long way home. There was no reason to hurry. There would be no one to greet him. No tantalizing aroma of dinner in the oven, no conversation at the dinner table or reading to Desi Lyn before bed. She and Mrs. Calvin were already on the train heading toward Morning Mist, Ryleigh to San Francisco.
He missed them already.
“It’s just you and me, Shotgun.”
The dog gave a soft woof and butted his head at Teague’s hand. He ruffled the dog’s ear and glanced toward the house. Warm light spilled from the window on the first floor.
He stiffened, every muscle taut, his senses alert. Who the hell is in my house?
And then his heart lurched. Logan? Did he get out early? Is he waiting for me?
He made his way to the back yard, careful to be silent, and stopped before climbing the stairs to the porch. He took off his boots and left them beside the steps.
He snapped his fingers and glanced at the dog. “Stay,” he whispered. The hound sank to his haunches in the grass. Teague drew his pistols, cocked the hammer, and climbed the steps. Taking a deep breath to steel his nerves, he opened the back door slowly, praying it wouldn’t creak, and stepped through. Removing his hat, he placed it on the table and crept down the hall, his stocking feet silent on the rug.
A Kiss in the Sunlight Page 22