Kiss of an Angel

by Janelle Denison

  J.T. glanced toward the slider again and did a double take. He hadn’t known what to expect when he saw Caitlan again, but the sight that greeted him tied his insides in knots. Desire surfaced, hot and swift, nearly overwhelming him.

  His gaze slid over Caitlan’s shirt, the long sleeves rolled to just below her elbow. The first three buttons down the front were undone, the tails tied into a knot around her tiny waist. The skirt she wore aroused more than just his interest. She had nice legs—he remembered that from the night he’d nearly seduced her in his bed—long, graceful limbs that conjured up images of them wrapped around his hips, hugging him tight as he made love to her.

  She smiled shyly and started his way. The muscles in his belly tightened as she neared, and he briefly wondered how much longer he’d be able to keep his hands off her. She tempted him to the brink of insanity.

  “Caitlan!” Laura grabbed Caitlan’s hand and tugged her toward where her and Brittany and Alisha were playing. “I need a partner for double jump rope.”

  Caitlan glanced doubtfully at the two lines of rope arching in a large loop, engineered by Laura’s cousins. “Are you looking to lose?”

  Laura laughed. “It’s not that hard, really. It’ll take you a few times to get the hang of it, but you’ll have fun. Aunt Debbie loves to do this.”

  Caitlan shrugged, pulling off her beige boots and socks and tossing them aside. “I’m game.”

  J.T. wasn’t sure if he should have been annoyed or relieved with Laura’s interruption, then decided he’d just sit back and enjoy Caitlan from a safe distance, where touching her wouldn’t be such a temptation.

  Caitlan attempted to jump in cadence with the two ropes, but only succeeded in tangling up the line. Chuckling at her clumsiness, J.T. teased her, watching in delight as sparks of determination lit up her incredible eyes. After a few more botched attempts she finally got the rhythm of the rope coordinated with the flow of her jumping and managed to execute the game beautifully, like a pro.

  Caitlan shot him a triumphant look over her shoulder as she kept up the rhythm. J.T. grinned. Despite her accomplishment, he couldn’t help but feel like the victor, because at his vantage point she presented him with a winning view.

  Holding her skirt to her thighs, she clutched the material tightly in her fists so it wouldn’t get tangled in the rope, giving him an unobstructed view of her endlessly long, shapely legs and bare feet. Ruffles from her slip spilled from beneath her skirt, a soft, feminine contrast that served to give her a countenance of childlike innocence. She even had cute knees, he mused, enjoying himself thoroughly.

  She laughed breathlessly, tilting her head back as the sweet sound escaped her. The setting sun sparkled threads of gold off her dark bouncing hair and kissed her cheeks with a natural blush.

  She looked wild and radiant. Incredibly beautiful. Vibrant and warm. The slow burn of desire for her ignited into a scorching flame of pure need.

  Twilight settled in, bringing with it a slight evening chill. The group moved indoors for peach cobbler and to watch a Sunday evening program. J.T. deliberately kept his distance from Caitlan, not trusting himself to give in to the urge to touch her in ways that went beyond a friendly manner. However, sitting a couch away didn’t stop him from watching her every move, listening to her every word. The wanting and hunger in him grew with each passing look between them.

  At ten-thirty they said their good-byes and headed home. Except for Caitlan thanking him for a nice day, the short drive was made in silence.

  Laura yawned as they walked in the front door. “I’m going to bed.” She turned to J.T. and gave him a hug, then embraced Caitlan, “Good night, Dad, Caitlan.”

  “Good night, Smidget,” J.T. replied.

  “Sweet dreams,” Caitlan added as Laura bounded up the stairs.

  Caitlan was the type of woman who would say sweet dreams, J.T. thought with a smile. Gentle. Caring. She glanced up at him, her eyes luminous pools of violet that reached deep inside him and gripped him in unrelenting desire. He’d turned on the hallway light, and the soft glow illuminated the nervousness in her gaze now that they were totally alone. He found her anxiousness endearing.

  She stepped back, her tongue running over her bottom lip. “I, uh, think I’ll go to bed, too. I’m exhausted.”

  “Yeah, me too.” Maybe a good night’s rest would cool his attraction to her. Don’t count on it, buddy. This ache isn’t going to leave until she does.

  That silent taunt rerouted his thoughts to his earlier conversation with Kirk. “Caitlan, there’s something I’d like to ask you.”

  “Yes?” A curious expression etched her features.

  He forced out the words before he had a chance to consider what he might be giving up. “Would you like me to take you to the airport so you can fly back to Chicago? It’s about a three-hour drive from here.”

  Dismay flashed in her eyes. “Do you want me to leave?”

  No. Glancing over her shoulder so she wouldn’t see the truth in his eyes, he absently rubbed at the back of his neck. “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck here. I know I should have asked you sooner, but, well, I guess I haven’t been such a gracious host, have I?” His gaze slid back to hers, and he offered her an apologetic smile. “Anyway, the bridge should be repaired by the end of the week. You’re welcome to stay until then, or if you’d like, I’ll take you to the airport.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “I’d really like to stay, if you don’t mind. I’m having a nice time, and I’m not due back home for a while.”

  “No, I don’t mind.”

  “Great.” A smile touched the corner of her mouth as she backed away again to leave. “Good night, J.T.”

  “ ‘Night.” He watched her climb the stairs, eyes riveted to the gentle sway of her hips. He wished he had the right to follow her up to her bedroom, or take her to his, and make love to her until the sun came up.

  Frustrated with his sensual thoughts and his anatomy’s natural response, he started up the stairs to his bedroom, knowing it was going to be a long tossing-and-turning kind of night.

  Chapter Nine

  Three hours later, hot, restless, and still aroused, J.T. lay in bed, cursing the woman down the hall for the sensual effect she had on him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so hungry for the feel of a woman pressed beneath him. Not just any woman, but Caitlan.

  The sound of the guest bedroom’s door creaking open broke the night’s silence. J.T. listened, unmoving but alert. Recognizing Caitlan’s tentative booted steps on the wooden floor, he frowned. Seconds later he heard the latch on the front door unlock, and the squeak of the hinges when she opened the door.

  He bolted upright in bed. Where in the hell was she going at one-thirty in the morning? Damn! Caitlan of all people should’ve known better than to roam around the ranch alone, especially at night, when an “accident” could easily befall her.

  Fearful for her safety, J.T. threw the covers off his naked body and jumped out of bed. Hastily, he pulled on his jeans and donned the shirt he’d shucked only hours before. Within minutes he was dressed, boots on, and out the front door, his fear congealing into anger at her foolishness. The emotion ran parallel with the tense, aroused state of his body.

  Caitlan wasn’t on the porch, or anywhere around the close perimeter of the house, from what he could see. Pure instinct had him heading for the barn, the glow from the full moon guiding the way. The cold night air wrapped around him, yet the welcoming chill did nothing to temper the heated blood running through his veins. Only one woman had the cure for that.

  She’d left the barn door open and he slipped in quietly. Her soft voice drifted to him. Was she with someone, he wondered, unable to stop thoughts of another woman’s infidelity. He had no ties to Caitlan, but he found himself silently praying she was alone, that she wasn’t out here to meet one of his men. Jealousy, an unfamiliar emotion, coiled tightly inside him.

  Stopping in the shadows of the last stall
, he saw her, standing by King’s Ransom. Alone. She was talking to the stallion, sweet, encouraging words and praise. The tension cramping the muscles across his shoulders slackened, and he released a long, slow breath.

  Curbing the impulse to make himself known and chastise Caitlan for going against his orders to stay away from King, he watched her cajole the animal into accepting whatever she extended in her hand through the slats. Sugar cubes, J.T. guessed, mesmerized by the gentle way the normally crazed stallion nuzzled the treat from her palm, then allowed her to stroke his nose before sidestepping away. How in the hell did she manage to calm the beast?

  She laughed softly, the sound curling around J.T. like a narcotic. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it, King?” Pulling back her hand, she brushed her palm on her skirt. “You know I won’t hurt you, don’t you, boy?”

  The horse gave a soft snort as his reply but didn’t venture back to her.

  The moonlight filtering into the barn from the loft window gave Caitlan an ethereal appearance, shimmering off her hair like a halo. Taking in the view of her profile, J.T. put to memory every delicate feature of her face. God, she was beautiful. Not in an elegant sense, but in a way that went deeper than the surface. Much, much deeper.

  Suddenly she straightened, glancing over her shoulder toward where he stood cloaked in the shadows. “J.T.?”

  How did she know it was him? Or had she just guessed? Not wanting to scare her, he stepped into the beam of moonlight so she could see him, feeling a little guilty that she’d caught him spying on her.

  “It’s late, Caitlan.” He tried to summon some authority, but his tone lacked conviction, so he gave up the pretense for something more basic and honest: concern. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  She didn’t seem all that surprised to see him. A beguiling smile curved her mouth. “Then come keep me company.”

  Had he only imagined the sultry invitation in her voice? Probably so, considering everything she said and did took on a provocative aspect. “It’s past one-thirty.” Hooking his thumbs through his belt loops, he moved toward her slowly, lazily. “You should be in bed.”

  She lifted a brow, playfully flitting to the back of the barn. “Are you ordering me to bed?”

  Damn. That time he hadn’t mistaken the huskiness and desire in her voice. Suddenly, subtly, the game changed, and he wanted to play by whatever rules she set down. “Would you go if I am?” he challenged, following her.

  She shrugged, giving him an upswept look that held an arousing combination of innocence and temptation. “I suppose not. I’m not tired.”

  In a lithe move he backed her against a nearby wall and propped a hand on one side of her head, leaving the other side open so she could escape if she wanted to. Surprise flared in her eyes, then simmered to a sensual heat that matched the flame licking along his body.

  Caressing his knuckles down her soft cheek, he slipped his hand inside the collar of her shirt, resting his palm on the warm curve where her neck and shoulder joined. Drawing his thumb along her jaw, he said very deliberately, “I’ve got the perfect cure for insomnia.”

  Her luminous gaze darkened and she swallowed. He followed the movement down her throat with his thumb, stopping at the quickening pulse at the base of her neck. Beneath the touch of his fingers on her shoulder, a delicate shiver stole through her.

  “You’re cold,” He shifted closer to share his body heat. His thighs rubbed provocatively against hers. “You should’ve put on your jacket.”

  Another tremor ran the length of her. “I’ll be fine.” Her voice was a breathy whisper of sound.

  Pushing her chin up with his thumb, he lowered his head to meet her lips. “I can make you warm,” he promised huskily. Brushing his mouth over hers, softly, tenderly, something unraveled deep inside him, a yearning and a hunger he could no longer deny.

  He nibbled on her full bottom lip and ran his tongue over her smooth teeth, needing to taste her deep inside. “I want you, Caitlan,” he growled.

  She gave a slight shake of her head. “We can’t do this,” she said, even as her lips parted to allow him access to the moist, sweet recesses of her mouth.

  Hearing the wistful catch to her voice that contradicted her objection, he pulled back just enough to capture her gaze. Feminine awareness flickered in her eyes, another contradiction. “Why not, Caitlan? We’ve both been fighting this from the first day we met.”

  Confusion and uncertainty creased her brow. Reaching up, she touched her fingers to his stubbled jaw. “When you touch me I feel things I know I shouldn’t.”

  He chuckled softly. “Are you that innocent?” Leaning close, he nuzzled the sensitive flesh just below her ear with his lips and damp tongue, giving her plenty to feel and experience. “It’s called lust, Caitlan,” he whispered in her ear just before his tongue traced the delicate orifice.

  She moaned and shuddered at the sensual onslaught, then shook her head. Grabbing his face between her palms, she made him look at her. “No, it’s more than that. It’s an ... emotional link.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes smoldering with passion and apprehension. I can’t fight it any longer, J.T. You feel too perfect for me, yet I know I shouldn’t give in....

  An emotional link. J.T.’s first instinct was to scoff at the idea, but damn if he didn’t feel that link, too. Refusing to analyze those disturbing emotions, he focused on what he knew he could handle for the moment. Their desire for one another, and quenching the need burning him up like flame.

  “Is that all you feel?” he asked, moving his hips against hers in a slow, evocative motion.

  Her head fell back, her eyes closed, her answer a soft, enticing moan. Her hands slipped from his face to clutch his shoulders in wild abandon.

  “Look at me, Caitlan,” he ordered in a low, rough voice. “Tell me what your body feels.”

  Opening her eyes, she ran her tongue across her bottom lip, her breathing deep with the beginnings of sensual excitement. “I feel ... strange. Tingly and warm all over.”

  He smiled, loving how utterly honest she was, how innocent despite her allure. “That’s a good start. Now let me show you how you make me feel.” Wedging a thigh between hers, he pressed his aching arousal to that natural feminine cove. He groaned as the length of him throbbed and strained against the fly of his jeans, and against her. He hated the layers of clothing separating their flesh.

  “You make me hot and hard and hungry for you,” he whispered darkly, his bold words made more provocative by their clandestine setting and the shocking way he moved against her. “I want you as restless as I am. I want you to feel that frenzied excitement build deep inside until you want to explode. That’s exactly where I am, Caitlan, and exactly where I want you to be.”

  A small sound slipped past her lips, a whimper of need and eagerness tinged with the barest hesitation. “I already feel it.”

  “There’s more.” Moving slowly, giving her enough time to protest if she wanted to, he dropped his mouth over her parted lips, kissing her slow and wet and deep and lazy. Over and over again, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, touching and tangling with the sleek length of hers, until a moan of pleasure rolled up from her throat, until she clung to him, responding with a quick, fiery need.

  Her body flowed into his and she rubbed against him, her hands moving over his chest and shoulders, seeking the hard contours of muscle and heat. A primitive shudder ran the length of him.

  It no longer mattered that he’d sworn he wouldn’t touch her. He needed her too badly. She was so sweet, her response so warm and open, she selflessly gave him the simple pleasure and wonder of feeling alive again.

  Desire flared like wildfire in him, urging him onward. His blood pulsed in hot, heavy beats, and even as he denied the softening emotions stirring within him for Caitlan, he admitted to the desperate need to know more of her.

  Flattening a palm over her collarbone just inside her shirt, he savored the velvet texture of her soft skin. His hand bru
shed against the chain around her neck. The heated gold singed his fingertips. While his other hand deftly unfastened the buttons down the front of her shirt, he hooked the chain around his index finger, slowly sliding down to where the medallion nestled between her breasts.

  Ravishing her mouth with his, apprehensive but intrigued by the lure of the medallion and what had happened that day at the creek when he’d touched it, he defiantly grasped the pendant in his palm.

  Caitlan gasped audibly and jerked back, but J.T. determinedly pressed closer and deepened the wet, silken kiss until, with a whimper, her resistance melted away and she surrendered to him. The medallion scorched his hand, but he ruthlessly clutched the gold. Seconds later, his efforts were rewarded. A shimmering heat radiated up his arm and flowed through his veins to every nerve ending. A charge of energy jolted him, electrifying him to the core of his soul. His body shuddered, wracked with mind-blowing sensations. He moaned as in the next instant the impression of being in perfect harmony with Caitlan cascaded through him, a blending of spirits, hearts, and bodies so unequivocally woven he never wanted to release her. He grew incredibly hard, painfully so, the mystifying experience inflaming his ardor.

  He tore his mouth from hers, needing to know if she’d experienced the strange coupling too, or if he was slowly going crazy. One look in her eyes, bright with awareness, confirmed that she’d been with him all the way, and that she was as aroused as he by the encounter. They both panted for air, and when he pressed his free hand over her left breast her heart beat wildly beneath his palm.

  “You’re mine,” he said fiercely, shaken by the depth of emotion accompanying the statement. Where had the possessive words come from?

  “Yes,” she whispered in return, her voice husky and needy.

  Letting go of the medallion, J.T. tugged on the knot of her shirt, desperate to explore every inch of her with his eyes and hands, desperate to make Caitlan his in every way. Fumbling with the front clasp of her bra, he dipped his head to string a line of wet, hot, openmouthed kisses down the side of her throat.