by Kay Hooper
Teddy Steele giggled engagingly. “No, because the guys would have worn commando outfits. It took me all of an hour to talk Zach into being the villain.”
A deep chuckle rumbled from the gunslinger, and his powerful arms tightened gently around his wife. “This isn’t so bad,” he commented to Skye in an unexpectedly soft voice. “But I feel for Josh.”
Rafferty Lewis laughed as well, pushing his white hat to the back of his head. “Face it, we’re all having fun with this. Even Josh. Better than a vacation. What’s up, Skye?”
Skye repeated his decision to settle on the Ferris wheel as the site of the governor’s attempted assassination, leaning back against a hitching post as he spoke to them. Their reaction was much the same as Lucas’s and Kyle’s.
“When does the balloon go up?” Teddy asked.
“A week from Saturday, if all goes well,” Skye answered. “Right on schedule.” He felt an unusually steady gaze on him, and looked at the schoolteacher, whose eyes were gentle.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
He managed a smile. “Fine, Sarah.” He knew his control was strained to the breaking point, but until he had talked to Lucas and Kyle he’d believed he was hiding it well. Obviously not. Before anybody else could mention it, he said, “I’ll try to touch base with the others sometime today. Hagen said something about seeing the Wild West show, but I’ll try to keep him busy. Better stay alert, though.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Zach said.
Skye saluted them casually and left.
There was a moment of silence after he’d gone, and then Teddy said reflectively, “Does anybody know if we’re unintentionally matchmaking?”
Sarah looked at her. “It was that kind of tension, wasn’t it?”
“I’d say so. And, according to Raven, Skye isn’t the type to get nervous professionally. This operation has to be a piece of cake to him. So what other reason could there be?”
Rafferty sighed. “If we’ve learned anything by now, it has to be that where Hagen is, romance is. Against all odds. It isn’t really any of our business, though,” he added carefully.
“No.” Zach’s deep voice was slow and thoughtful. “But if that’s the cause of Skye’s tension, he isn’t handling it well. And he’s the linchpin of the entire plan. Dane could step in, I suppose, if it comes to that. Maybe we’d better find out what’s going on.”
Rafferty eyed his large friend. “Well, you ask Skye, then. You’re about the only one of us big enough to take him on if he doesn’t like the question.”
“Raven,” Sarah said in her soft, serene voice. “She knows him better than we do. Leave it to her.”
Teddy nodded quick agreement. “We can talk to her about it tonight.”
Zach looked at Rafferty and nodded as well. “It might be best. And she may know what’s going on already.”
They all heard the loud whistle announcing the imminent opening of the park’s gates, and Zach added wistfully to the sheriff, “Can’t I shoot you today?”
Rafferty pulled his white hat firmly back down and adjusted the gun on his hip. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m the good guy.”
“Shyster,” Zach said rudely, and took his giggling wife’s hand to lead her toward the saloon.
—
Skye decided to keep Hagen busy for the day by getting Gigi’s help, and she listened to his suggestion with lifted brows and a tiny smile.
“And why should I?” she asked.
Grinning suddenly, Skye said, “Because he’s wandering around the hotel like a beaten hound, that’s why. I never thought I could feel sorry for Hagen, but I do. You’re a cruel woman, Gigi.”
She chuckled. “He needed a lesson. However, that’s quite beside the point. Just what are you going to be doing while I keep Hagen’s mind off visiting the park?”
Skye cleared his throat. “Double checking a few things.” And when she continued to gaze at him with perceptive eyes, he forced himself to sit still in her visitor’s chair.
Gently she said, “Today is her usual day off. Did she tell you?”
“No,” Skye said a bit grimly.
Ignoring the tone, Gigi explained, “She wanted to work since she took the other day off, but I thought not. Not quite her usual calm self, my Trina; I ordered her to rest.”
Skye rose from his chair abruptly but then paused, looking across the desk at the older woman. “Tell me something,” he said a bit jerkily. “Am I bad for her?”
“What would you do if I said yes?”
“I don’t know.”
After a moment Gigi said seriously, “I can’t answer your question, Skye. Only Trina can.”
He didn’t intend to ask Katrina about that, but when she opened her door to him ten minutes later, it was the question uppermost in his mind. She had been less wary these last days, but it seemed to him that whenever he tried to step closer she moved elusively away from him. And both his determined patience and his control over his own desires were wearing thin.
He greeted her abruptly. “We have to talk.”
Caution crept into her amber eyes, but she stepped back to allow him to come in. She was in her usual off-duty clothing, jeans and a casual shirt, barefooted and with her glorious hair flowing loosely down her back. He was reminded again of the paradox of her, her innate composure warring with the outward suggestion of wildness.
It has to be there! he thought with more than a hint of the savagery she always inspired in him. It had driven him half mad years before, that conviction of his that locked somewhere inside Katrina was an intensity to match his own, a fiery spirit crying out to be freed. And he had tried to touch that part of her. But although she had responded to him with loving passion, he had been unable to find the vital woman he sensed beneath the calm, smiling eyes.
He was no closer now, and it was still driving him mad. The desire between them was sharper than ever before, but he was all too aware that Katrina was holding herself aloof from him. He looked at the wariness in her eyes as they moved into her den, and he wanted to demand, Where do you go when you hide from me? Why can’t I find you?
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
He forced a laugh. “Well, since I’ve had several people who barely know me point out that I’m jittery as hell, I suppose I can’t deny it.”
“I’m sorry,” she said uncertainly. Her arms moved in what seemed a conditioned response, folding over her breasts.
Skye ignored the body language, refusing to be warned off. He took two quick steps to stand before her, pulling her abruptly into his arms. “I can’t take much more of this,” he said in a voice that grated. “I’ve tried, Trina, I swear I have.”
Her arms had moved by instinct around his waist, and Katrina gasped when the heat of his body pressed against hers. “You—you said we had to talk,” she managed to say unsteadily.
“I lied.” His eyes were fixed on hers in a hard, searching stare, and a muscle tightened in his jaw. “We’ve talked, and it hasn’t helped. I’ve taken cold showers, and it hasn’t helped. For the second time I’ve forgotten I’m a professional, and it’s because of you. Again.”
“Skye—”
He shifted one hand to her face, holding her as if to keep her still even though she hadn’t moved. “Why can’t I find it?” he muttered almost to himself.
“What?” She was bewildered.
Without answering, he bent his head and fitted his mouth to hers in a very deliberate movement. His hand slid around to the back of her head, long fingers tangling in her hair as he took her mouth with utter confidence.
Katrina recognized that male certainty in him, but she couldn’t deny it because he had every reason to be sure of her response. She was coming apart inside, melting in the stark heat of her need and his, and in the newfound awareness of her own love, an overwhelming desire for him jolted through her like pure flame. Her fingers dug into the hard muscles of his back, her body arched into his in a driven need to be closer, and a sound
like a primitive wail of desperation knotted in the back of her throat.
It had never been like this before, and she surrendered to it, and him, because there was no choice left to her. With an eagerness she couldn’t fight or hide, her mouth came wildly alive beneath his, her arms tightened around him, and the soft contours of her body molded themselves to his hard length.
Skye lifted his head abruptly, his eyes blazing in a way she’d never seen before. “I knew it,” he said thickly, satisfaction and an emotion she couldn’t name ringing in his voice.
Katrina was too dazed to say anything at all, and she could only gasp when he lifted her easily into his arms and carried her into her bedroom. She was burning, out of control, and at that moment she no longer cared why he wanted her or how long he would want her; he wanted her now, and that was enough.
He lowered her to her feet beside the bed, his hands going instantly to the hem of her shirt and pulling it quickly up and over her head. The shirt was tossed carelessly aside, and Katrina felt her bra fall away before his warm, hard hands surrounded her naked breasts. Her fingers clutched at his muscled arms, and she swayed toward him, a soft moan breaking from her lips as her body responded violently to his touch.
Skye made a rough sound and kissed her, his mouth hot with demand as his hands slid down to cope feverishly with the snap of her jeans. The heavy denim was pushed down over her hips, followed quickly by her wispy panties, and Katrina automatically stepped free of the material that pooled around her feet.
As driven as he was, she tugged at his T-shirt, helping him to peel it off over his head, and she barely had his jeans unfastened when he shoved them down and kicked them violently aside. It was Katrina who stepped back and fell onto the bed, pulling him with her and unconcerned that his weight could have hurt her. But Skye caught most of his weight on his elbows, still kissing her violently. There was no time for gentleness, and no desire for it in either of them. And there was no need for preliminaries, because Katrina was ready for him, desperate for him, and she couldn’t wait. She wanted him now, right now, the imperative craving for his possession overpowering and tormenting. She returned his kisses with the same searing hunger he displayed, and her legs were already apart, wrapping around him, her body writhing beneath him.
She cried out wildly as he entered her with a powerful thrust, the sensation briefly unfamiliar and shocking. It had been a long time for her, and he was a big man in every way, but her body adjusted quickly in its own heated need, and she moaned as she felt him throbbing inside her. Through the mists of her urgency she saw his face, taut and almost savage, and then the fire in her was burning out of control and she was moving with him, matching his raw force, hardly aware of the sounds tearing from her throat.
It was quick and hard and primitive, and when release came it left them shuddering and so utterly drained that neither of them could move for a long time. When he did move, Skye simply rolled so that she lay on top of him, and like that, their bodies cooling and still entangled, they both slept deeply.
—
Katrina woke slowly but she made no effort to move. She listened to his heart beat steadily, aware of his powerful arms wrapped firmly around her and of the slow rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. His big, hard body was a surprisingly comfortable bed, and she never wanted to move.
But her mind refused to float lazily for long, and when she remembered her own passion, shock mingled with astonishment. Had that been she? That wild woman so desperate with need she had practically ripped his clothes off? He hadn’t even had to demand the total surrender because she’d offered it mindlessly.
And what now? She felt a chill of fear, wondering if he would leave her. Wondering if that fiery, primitive joining had purged him of her once and for all. She bit her lip and unconsciously rubbed her cheek against the soft pelt of black hair beneath it, aching inside.
But she wouldn’t let him see that ache. She was a proud woman, a survivor, and she would deal with the anguish of losing him as she had always dealt with pain and loss. Alone. Already, she was calling on the strength that had seen her through the last six years, holding tightly to every shred of dignity.
Skye moved then, and she found herself on her back gazing up at him as he leaned on an elbow above her. The faint smile curving his lips made her heart catch because it held such utter satisfaction, and her eyes skittered away from his, both shy and guarded. Would he say it now?
“Look at me,” he ordered softly.
She did, watching his smile die and that hard, searching glitter return to his eyes. It bewildered her.
“Don’t hide from me.” His voice was suddenly guttural, and a frown drew his brows together. “I won’t let you. Not now.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” she whispered.
He stared at her for a moment, then bent his head and kissed her so deeply she was shaking when it finally ended. “That’s better,” he said, his lips moving over her throat.
Katrina didn’t know what he was talking about, but those searching lips were trailing fire wherever they touched, and the embers inside her were beginning to glow with renewed heat. It couldn’t be important anyway, she thought, her fingers compulsively probing his shoulders and back. As long as he wasn’t going to leave her right away, nothing else was important.
His lips were moving over her breastbone now, and his big hand slid up over her quivering stomach and slowly closed around one swelling mound. She gasped, blinking at the sudden wave of dizziness and heat, forgetting everything but the sensations he was arousing in her body.
Skye’s head lifted briefly, his eyes stabbing into hers, and he muttered thickly, “Much better,” before lowering his lips to her breast again. She wasn’t hiding from him now, her amber eyes flickering with smoldering intensity, her lovely face awakening, growing absorbed in passion, and he was determined to make certain she couldn’t slip elusively away from him again.
That retreat had cut him like a knife, especially after the wild lovemaking they’d shared, and he had been conscious of the fierce desire to drive her crazy with wanting him, just as he was crazy with wanting her. Only the sharpest edge of his need had been blunted, and he meant to love her slowly this time and get reacquainted with her body.
Lord, she was beautiful! She had all the slenderness of a model, yet her slim body was curved in all the right places. Her breasts fit his hands perfectly, the coral nipples so sensitive to his touch that a moan jerked from her lips when he tugged at them gently. He watched those responsive buds tighten into hard points as he stroked them with his thumbs, and his own body tautened and pulsed heavily as he aroused her.
“Skye,” she murmured throatily, arching up to fit her breasts more firmly into his caressing hands.
“Tell me you want me,” he ordered in a rasping voice, bending his head to tease a stiffened nipple with his lips.
Her nails dug into his shoulders and her eyes were alight now, like a cat’s in the dark, fierce and untamed. “I want you,” she whispered raggedly.
He continued to tease, his tongue flicking her sensitive flesh, his fingers kneading in a slow, lazy motion. But a strangled, impassioned sound from her snapped a thread of his control, and his mouth closed hotly over her nipple. He could feel her shaking, and her deep moan of pleasure made his heart hammer violently against his ribs. One of his hands slid down over her writhing body, and the softness of the red curls he found at the base of her belly yanked a groan from deep in his chest.
“Now?” he demanded urgently, raising his head so he could gaze into her wild eyes. He could feel her readiness, his fingers probing her slick heat, and the power of his own need was snapping the remaining threads of his control.
She tugged at his shoulders mutely, almost sobbing when he spread her legs and moved between them. He gritted his teeth, fighting every instinct urging him to bury himself in her because the sheer pleasure of slowly entering her body was driving him to the edge of madness. And when he settled fin
ally against her, deeply inside her, she held him in a hot, velvety clasp that sent shudders of ecstasy rippling through him.
Her lips curved in a slow, mysterious female smile that held nothing of reserve or composure, and her arms tightened around him in unconscious possession, her hips lifting instinctively to take all of him. He tangled his fingers in her fiery hair and kissed her again and again, catching the soft whimpers that escaped her as he began moving, at first slowly and then with gathering speed and force.
Skye was out of control again, and some dim part of him recognized that he always would be with her, that his need for her was too primal to allow constraints. It burned inside him, seared all his senses, frantic and savage, and the hoarse sounds that tore their way out of his tight throat were almost sobs. He pulled her legs higher around him and drove deeper into her welcoming heat, blind to everything but his own critical necessity and the woman who matched his demand with an equal, passionate need of her own.
Then she stiffened with an incoherent cry, and the strong inner contractions of her pleasure caught him in a mind-numbing caress. He groaned raggedly, his senses exploding with a violence that was like dying, and lost himself in her.
—
When he could breathe again, Skye raised himself slowly on his elbows, concerned that he was too heavy for her. But she wouldn’t let him leave her, her slender legs tightening around him and a mumbled protest escaping her. He framed her face in his hands, his thumbs smoothing the flushed, satiny skin, and he could feel her fingers moving lazily in his hair. Her eyes opened slowly, darkened now, and he searched them with an eagerness that was almost painful.
She’s still with me. She isn’t hiding.
He kissed the swollen curve of her lips, then the tip of her nose where the three freckles beckoned. “It’s a good thing you have the day off,” he said.