by Karen Anders
“My mouth.” Her answer was just a puff of air as his lips dropped to hers. His kiss was gentle warmth moving over her mouth, a sweet insistent pressure that she couldn’t resist.
She was certain that he never meant to deepen the kiss, he’d only meant to brush her mouth. But unable to stop herself, her mouth softened beneath his seeking lips, broadcasting to him loud and clear her surrender, her invitation.
With a soft moan she tangled her fingers in his long silky hair, searching for the sensitive nape of his neck.
He moaned softly into her mouth. How could she know that he loved being touched there? A shiver of pure pleasure jolted along his nerve endings.
His tongue touched the corner of her mouth and she parted her lips, giving him access to such sweetness he thought his knees would buckle.
Their tongues entwined, tasting each other with a fierce need that left them both weak.
He drew her closer, his arms closing around her while he kissed her with a deep hunger that was surprising in its immediate force. One hand came up to cup the back of her head, his mouth moving frantically over hers. His body shifted to accommodate her soft curves until she was as close to him as two bodies could get without actually joining. It was an intimate kiss, a kiss of two souls who had long since been apart and were finally discovering one another again.
With a small sound she clung to him, unnerved by his desire and the silky demands of his tongue, reacting to him as she had never reacted to any man. Just as she knew she would. The intimacy of the kiss was stunning in relation to the short time she had known him. She couldn’t help wanting more.
When his mouth moved from hers, she was weak in body and reason, barely able to stay upright. My God, the man could kiss the socks off her. She couldn’t seem to think this close to him.
There was just this deep abiding fire that he had lit inside her with that toe-curling kiss, so deep that she felt she had just been taught by a master. She was feeling things now for which she had no labels. A powerful wanting that shocked her, the implications frightening, the impact of such recklessness terrifying to a woman who didn’t want to lose control of the wild, reckless nature she held rigidly in check. Especially to a loner. A man who would break her heart. A man who was as elusive as the wind.
His voice was husky, almost bereft. “Does this mean that you now owe me two home-cooked meals?”
He caught her off guard, but only for a moment. She had expected him to apologize for kissing her, but she should have known better. Outlaws never apologized. Her smile was pure mischief. “How about a home-cooked meal with an apple pie thrown in?”
His eyes rolled and he smacked his lips. “Offer me a scoop of vanilla ice cream on that pie and you have yourself a deal and a friend for life.”
She didn’t want to be his friend. He slowly let go of her and she felt suddenly disconnected as he stepped back. She shivered and wrapped her arms around herself.
Once again the distance was there in his eyes, and maybe a flash of regret. Quickly she gave him directions to her home and he promised to be there at seven sharp.
“I do have to warn you,” she said with a little lurch in her stomach. “I have a mildly precocious thirteen-year-old daughter.”
The only indication of surprise he gave was the lifting of his eyebrows. He cocked his hip and raked his hand through his hair in such a knee-melting sexy motion that Jennifer couldn’t concentrate on his words.
“You don’t look old enough to have a thirteen-year-old daughter, but I’ll look forward to meeting her.”
He walked away then and left her with the lingering taste of him on her lips and his hunger burning in her blood.
Chapter 3
All the way over to Jennifer Horn’s ranch, Corey cursed himself for the fool he was. Hadn’t he just told himself this morning in no uncertain terms that he couldn’t get involved with her? Then all it had taken was that two-bit bully to threaten her and he turned into a knight in shining armor. Ha, more like a knight in tarnished armor. This afternoon, he’d only meant to brush her lips, but her response was so hot, so sweet he hadn’t been able to pull away. A knight who couldn’t control his own desire. Some hero he made.
But Jennifer hadn’t seemed to notice. She had looked up at him with such wonder in her eyes. He’d been stupid, giving her ideas when he had nothing to give and was losing himself daily.
He still felt the shock of his family’s death. He remembered when the doctor had told him that his father had passed out in a drunken stupor with a lighted cigarette in his hand and had torched the whole house. He had to hear that his mother and sister hadn’t made it out alive.
Something had died inside him that day, something that had been dying since he was old enough to understand that other families weren’t like his.
Other fathers didn’t beat their sons. Other fathers took their sons fishing, canoeing, hiking and riding. Other mothers didn’t have to use makeup to cover bruises. Other mothers didn’t have to come up with excuses like, “Oh, he fell down while he was playing. You know how kids are.”
God, he hated his father. Michael Rainwater was full-blooded Apache. He’d left the reservation to pursue his amazing talent as an artist. Then when Corey was three, his father had been beaten up by some Anglos who decided to do some Indian bashing. During the beating, they had stepped on his father’s hands and crushed them, crippled them, usable only to bruise and batter his family. Michael Rainwater had started to drink. He blamed everything on the Anglos after that. The money had stopped coming in, and his father sunk deeper and deeper into depression.
Corey drew a deep, long breath. He pulled off the highway at the entrance to the Triple X. The name of the ranch appeared on a beautiful wrought-iron sign with fine metal curlicues. Three X’s in bold red letters were outlined in gold.
He hit the brakes on his bike, then dropped his feet to the road’s surface to support himself and sat idling at the entrance. The ranch screamed money and his insides knotted.
He should turn around and get the hell out of here before he cared too much about this woman and her daughter. A thirteen-year-old. His sister’s age. Hell, Jennifer must have had her when she was a child herself. He wondered where Jennifer’s husband was. No man who had married such a beautiful, smart woman would ever be fool enough to leave her. He must be dead. That was the only way he’d want to leave a woman like Jennifer. Not that he was going to get involved with her, because he wasn’t. He’d only come to let her repay him.
He had almost made up his mind to turn his bike around and leave. After all, it would be best for both of them. His protective instinct could go to hell. He couldn’t be a hero. Didn’t heroes succeed? Didn’t heroes always save the day?
He’d eat dinner, he would make polite conversation and, damn it, then he would go.
Why did this woman have to be so alluring? He could feel the tug even from this distance. He wanted to gun the engine and go hurtling up that road and let her feed him and get his mind off his problems for one night. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a home-cooked meal, with apple pie, no less.
He looked over his shoulder with a feeling of unexplainable uneasiness, as if something was following him. What had he expected to see? The ghosts of his mother and sister pleading with him to help? Well, he had tried to help. He had tried to get his mother to leave. Time and time again. He had proven he was no hero.
Hell. He decided to go forward because he wanted to see Jennifer again. Just remembering that kiss was enough to make his body hum. He wanted to kiss her again and never stop.
He was going crazy. Well, he might as well go crazy and get it over with.
“So. Mom. Is this guy your boyfriend?”
“No, Ellie. He’s just someone I met in town who chased off Jay Butler after he was bad-mouthing me.” Jennifer turned the heat down on the chicken and dumplings.
Eleanor Jean Horn wrinkled her nose. “You mean Tucker’s dad who keeps pinching my cheek like I was
a piece of ripe fruit?”
“Yes, honey. That’s the guy.” She chuckled. “You have such a way with words.”
“Why was he bad-mouthing you, Mom?” Ellie’s words got fainter as she exited the kitchen to set the dining-room table. A moment later, she came back into the kitchen to pick up the silverware.
“Let’s say that I wasn’t very nice to him a few nights ago.” Jennifer turned from the stove and leaned back against the counter.
“Mom, you’re always telling me I shouldn’t lose my temper. Did you lose yours?”
“I’m afraid so, dear. I tried to apologize, but the damage had been done by then.” Jennifer smiled faintly at the chiding in her daughter’s voice.
“So he likes you and you like him?”
“Who, dear? Jay?”
“No. This guy who’s coming to dinner. This guy you dressed up for and made apple pie. I hope he’s worth all this effort,” Ellie said matter-of-factly.
“Ellie, I want you to be polite.” She smoothed down the emerald green silk blouse and matching silk pants. “Do you think it’s too much?”
“What, your clothes?”
“Yes, my clothes,” Jennifer said, trying not to sound anxious and failing miserably. She felt nervous about her appearance. She hadn’t thought about her image this morning when she’d left. She’d been thinking about groceries, feed for her stock and her ranch.
“You look beautiful, Mom. What does he look like?”
“Dangerous,” was Jennifer’s immediate answer. “He looks like an outlaw,”
There was a scratching at the door and Ellie walked over and opened it. In trotted Two Tone, a miniature Vietnamese potbellied pig. A black-and-white runt of the litter that followed Ellie around like a dog.
At first Jennifer hadn’t allowed him in the house until she realized that he could be housebroken. In fact, he liked to be clean. He loved taking baths, grunting with pleasure each time Ellie bathed him. The two of them were inseparable. He even slept with Ellie.
“Hi, Two Tone, are you hungry, little guy?” Ellie said, bending down to pet his head and scratch him under the chin. The little pig closed his eyes and grunted in pure pleasure.
“He’s always hungry, honey.” Jennifer smiled as she too bent down and patted his. bristly head.
As she rose, Jennifer heard the roar of a powerful engine and her heart started fluttering. Until she heard the motorcycle, she wasn’t sure he was coming.
All afternoon she’d thought about that kiss he’d given her. He hadn’t been consoling her, although it was what he had meant to do, she was sure. Things just got out of hand. He’d been kissing her as a man kisses a woman and doing a very thorough job of it, if the sudden weakness that was traveling through her was any indication.
It was true, she had been reckless in her youth and her father had been right when he warned her that she was heading for trouble. But ever since her disastrous relationship with Sonny, she hadn’t done anything even remotely rash. She had gone to college and studied animal husbandry and small-business management so that when the time came she could take over for her father—something he had always wished for but never expected would happen until his wayward daughter grew up. But she had never expected both her parents to die so tragically in the plane crash last year.
She grew up fast going through a pregnancy with no husband to help her. She went through the first year of Ellie’s life in constant fear that something would happen to her or that she would do something wrong. She went through that first year falling out of love with Sonny and learning to despise him for his infidelity. It wasn’t until later on that she learned the key word was infidelities.
The pain of Sonny’s cheating passed, but the mistrust of men remained, especially rodeo riders.
So why had she invited one to dinner?
She was a seasoned mother now. She had Ellie to worry about, but she couldn’t deny that she was lonely, devastatingly lonely. She had never been the type of woman to sleep around. So, after Sonny had taken her virginity and fathered a daughter, she had never been with another man.
“Mother, he rides a motorcycle!” Ellie’s normal tone of voice was replaced with the censuring tone of an old woman’s, interrupting Jennifer’s thoughts.
“Don’t mother me, Ellie. I told you, he’s just a friend.”
Ellie was at the window unabashedly trying to get a glimpse of the first man her mother had ever invited to dinner. “Oh, my God, Mother. He has long hair.”
“Ellie, will you stop acting like your grandmother and finish setting the table.”
“Okay, but I have one more comment.”
Jennifer turned away from the stove in exasperation. “What?”
“He’s one gorgeous piece of beefcake!”
“Ellie!”
“That’s what my friend Mary Lou calls good-looking guys.” She gave her mother her most innocent smile and peeked at Corey Rainwater again.
“Well, you’re not Mary Lou, and for heaven’s sake don’t say that to him. And stop peeking at him as if he was some kind of freak, Ellie.” Jennifer crossed the room and grabbed the curtains out of Ellie’s hands, closing them with a snap. She turned to Ellie and in the middle of smoothing her daughter’s hair back, she noted how much she’d changed. When had it happened? She wasn’t a baby anymore, and she was certainly old enough to know about attraction between a man and a woman. God, she would do her best to steer Ellie away from the mistakes she’d made at her age.
“Don’t embarrass me,” Jennifer said in a firm voice, then softened her words by tugging on one of Ellie’s auburn braids.
Ellie followed her mother over to the counter and picked up the glasses, then bumped her mother’s hip. “Okay, but I want a raise in my allowance.”
Before Jennifer could respond, a knock sounded at the door. With a waggle of her eyebrows, Ellie disappeared into the dining room.
“Scoot, Two Tone.” Jennifer used her foot to usher the black-and-white pig from the door with affection. He grunted and ran across the floor.
Jennifer pulled open the door and a wave of heat rose from deep inside her, swamping her with sensations. She remembered how soft his hair had been on the nape of his neck, how his mouth had felt moving over hers and the way he filled out his jeans.
He still wore the hat and now was wearing the mackintosh, but it had been brushed clean of all the dust. He’d changed his boots for a pair of soft moccasins that reached his knees and were beautifully beaded.
He reached up and removed his hat. “Having second thoughts about dinner, or do I need to wipe my feet?” His tone was filled with teasing amusement and curled around her.
Heat rose in her face and she moved backward, both because of her wicked, unladylike thoughts and because he’d caught her staring.
“No, no second thoughts,” she murmured. “Come in.”
Ellie entered from the dining room and gave her mother that mischievous grin that Jennifer knew so well. “So, Mom, how about that raise?”
Jennifer looked up to the ceiling for guidance. So, this is my parents’ revenge, getting a daughter as impish as I was, she said to herself. She faced Ellie and pierced her with that don’t-mess-with-me-I’m-the-mother look. “It’s going to be pretty hard to spend ill-gotten gains when you’re grounded. We’ll talk about it after dinner,” Jennifer said with a warning in her voice for added measure.
She gestured to Corey and said, “Ellie, this is Corey Rainwater.”
Jennifer watched her daughter size up Corey. “Rainwater,” Ellie mused aloud. “You an Indian or something?”
As if she realized she’d been rude, Ellie’s vibrant eyes widened and she averted her gaze from the stranger’s amused expression.
“Ellie, mind your manners,” Jennifer scolded.
“That’s okay.” Corey smiled and charmed them both. “I’m part Apache.”
“Wow! Those are great boots! Did you make them?” Ellie moved closer into the room, her eyes on the beautiful moccasi
ns.
“No, my grandmother was good at working leather, and my little... sister beaded them,” he responded, his voice subdued.
“So what kind of motorcycle do you have? I could hear it coming up the driveway but I couldn’t see it.” Ellie went to the window again and looked out.
“A Harley.”
“Wow, cool! Wait until I tell Mary Lou! Could you give me a—”
“Ellie, let the man get his coat off, will you?” Jennifer interrupted with a laugh. “She’s not used to strangers coming to dinner,” she explained to Corey.
Jennifer knew that Ellie’s innate curiosity had led her from one question to another and she hadn’t noticed the painful catch in his voice when he’d mentioned his little sister.
But Jennifer had. His distance was back and she could almost believe that the passionate kiss they had shared had never happened, if it wasn’t for the way he looked at her.
Get a grip, Jennifer. It’s for the best. Tomorrow he will be gone. She didn’t want to think about how the loneliness would swell around her again. She’d enjoy his company tonight and in the morning get back to her routine of running her ranch and finding a foreman. She’d have to go down to the paper and get them to run that ad again.
“Here, let me take your hat and coat,” she said. He handed his hat to her. The band was still warm from his skin. The coat followed. “Can I get you something to drink? I have beer or iced tea.”
“A beer will be fine,” he replied, his eyes traveling slowly over her face.
That sadness was still with him, she noted, and it seemed to intensify every time he looked at Ellie. Jennifer went to the refrigerator and got him a beer from the six-pack she had bought today with the other groceries. She set it down in front of him and he popped the lid and took a drink.
“So,” Ellie began, glancing at her mother anxiously, “can I have a ride on your bike sometime?”
“I don’t think so, Ellie. I’ll be leaving tomorrow.” The disappointment he saw in the child’s eyes, eyes so like her mother’s, piercing green and filled with a burning intelligence and the innate straightforward curiosity of the young, bothered him.