A Promise of Thunder (33 page)

“How do you feel about me, Grady?” Storm asked bluntly. “Do you love me?”

Grady opened his mouth to say the words Storm yearned to hear, then closed it abruptly. He had loved Summer Sky and she had been taken from him. If he bared his soul, what assurances did he have that loving Storm wouldn’t destroy her just as it had Summer Sky? What he feared most was losing Storm. He had tempted the Gods these past years by living on the fringes of the law, and now that he had a second chance at happiness he feared his love would harm Storm just as it had destroyed Summer Sky.

For the first time in years he was frightened of the evil forces that had controlled his life. Frightened for Storm’s sake.

Besides, Storm had never expressed love for him; quite the contrary. She despised him for the kind of life he had led and for the violence
that followed him. The passion they shared was something neither of them had counted on. If he never had anything else from Storm, he would have her passion.

“My God, Grady, don’t you feel anything for me?” Storm cried, turning away. “I’ll pack my things and leave. I won’t hurt your parents by remaining where I’m not wanted.”

“Not wanted?” Grady repeated, swinging her around to face him. “I’ve always wanted you. I’ve never wanted anyone like I’ve wanted you.” His blue eyes glowed with a savage inner fire and his expression was fiercely possessive. “I’ve always prided myself on my ability to control my needs and emotions. But with you all my resolve and willpower flees like leaves before the wind. I have no need for pretty words and vows. My actions demonstrate what I feel for you.”

“Your actions merely tell me you are a virile animal whose lust cannot be controlled,” Storm said. Grady winced but did not contradict her.

“I don’t deny it, sweetheart,” Grady said. The intensity of his lowered voice sent a thrill of apprehension down her spine. “I cannot control myself where you’re concerned. Call it lust or whatever you like, lady, just know that you’re mine and you’re going to return with me to the homestead when I leave Cheyenne.”

She answered quickly, over her choking, beating heart. “You’ll have to be more convincing than that.”

Grady’s face went slack with disbelief then flushed with pleasure when he realized what her words implied. Without further hesitation he swept her into his arms.

Storm experienced the same hot breathlessness she felt every time Grady touched her. The air around them seemed to be thickening, vibrating, turning dark with emotion. With an efficiency of movement Grady released the fastenings on her dress and bared her breasts. His lips lowered slowly until they were hovering over the exposed flesh swelling in avid anticipation of his next move. His breath was so warm she could feel her skin sizzling from the contact. Though he hadn’t actually touched her breasts they felt heavy and full, the nipples engorged by the sweet abrasion of his breath.

“You’re trembling; are you cold?” The smile in his voice told her he knew exactly what made her tremble.

His lips touched her flesh.

She made a strangled sound and involuntarily arched upward.

His warm wet tongue slashed over her right nipple. Made ultrasensitive by her pregnancy, the sensation was exquisite. When he shifted to caress the other nipple, Storm groaned in sheer delight.

Grady raised his head and looked deeply into her eyes. “Your body has missed me.”

“I have no control over the response you force from my body.” No matter how much or how often Storm tried to deny her feelings, her body betrayed her.

“Am I convincing enough yet?”

“I’d rather you told me how you felt.”

“And I’d rather show you. I’ve missed you too.” His head lowered and his mouth closed on her left breast.

Storm gasped as the strong suction of his mouth created a fire in her blood she hadn’t known since she left Oklahoma—pulling, drawing, his teeth gnashing on the engorged nipple. The heat he was creating became a tingling ache between her thighs. Commanding the last of her dwindling strength, she tried to rise from the bed. She could see the pulse beating wildly in Grady’s temple and his breath coming faster, harsher, as he shifted his weight off her. For a moment she thought he meant to let her go, but he merely pushed her back down and began to strip off his clothes.

In moments he stood before her naked, proud, magnificently aroused, and she stared
at him in utter fascination. She could see Grady like this every day of her life until she grew old and never tire of the sight of him. He stood over her, all bronze masculinity, the powerful sinews cording his thighs, the smooth, tight musculature of his stomach, the taut roundness of his buttocks. His blue eyes glowed with dark fire, his mouth heavy with sensuality. His eyes intent upon her face, he bent and stripped her bare.

She tensed, exposed, burning, as his gaze slowly slid down the length of her body. She clenched her legs tightly, but he merely smiled and shoved them apart, moving between them. His fingers began caressing her, massaging, then plunging into the center of her.

Her body arched up from the bed and she gave a tormented cry.

“Are you becoming more convinced?” He was breathing harshly, his muscles taut with tension, his face fierce as his long, hard fingers moved rhythmically in and out of her.

By now Storm was beyond speech as her head wagged from side to side. She begged him to end her torture, but Grady was just warming to his pleasurable task. Lowering his head, he touched his tongue where his fingers had been moments before.

“Grady!”

She tried to close her legs against this unorthodox intrusion, but Grady shoved them farther apart, settling more deeply into the
cradle of her thighs as his mouth and tongue delved deeply into the sensitive core of her womanhood. He lashed her relentlessly until pleasure so intense it stole her breath shuddered through her. Allowing her no time to recover from the volatile release he had forced from her, Grady slid upward and thrust into her. His fullness stretched her, filled the emptiness of the past months without him—made her complete.

Wildness seized Grady as he plunged and thrust, long, hard, short, gentle, losing all control now as he felt Storm’s moist heat surround and enfold him. She was just becoming accustomed to one tempo when he changed it to another, each stroke bringing her once again to the brink of madness.

Just when Storm thought she could stand no more, Grady added a new dimension to their loving when he kissed her deeply, his tongue moving wildly in her mouth to the same tempo as his thrusting below. He reached around and cupped her buttocks, bringing her up hard to his every thrust.

“Hurry,” he breathed, raising his head. “I can’t wait much longer.” His expression was blissful agony, his nostrils flared as his thrusting hips grew more forceful with every movement.

Suddenly the tension broke and she surged upward convulsively.

Grady cried out and clutched her against him.

Spent and limp, Storm lay unmoving as Grady lifted himself from her and sank down on the bed beside her. His breath was still coming harsh and quick, his black hair tousled, making him appear amazingly young and vulnerable.

Storm’s hand slid across her belly where her baby lay sheltered in her womb. The slight bulge beneath her fingertips reminded her that she hadn’t told Grady yet about their child. She wasn’t quite ready for that, she decided as she deliberately reached down and pulled the sheet over her nakedness. Grady still hadn’t proved to her that he was finished with violence. For all she knew he would still participate in gunfights with men who came to Guthrie to challenge him. Once he learned she was carrying his child she would be forced to return with him to Oklahoma. Both Blade and Shannon had promised they wouldn’t tell Grady about her pregnancy until she was ready, and she hoped they intended to keep their word.

“Have I convinced you to return with me to the homestead? We need each other, Storm.”

“Will Laughing Brook accompany us back to Oklahoma?”

“I’ve given my word. I will personally return her to the reservation. I thought we’d take Laughing Brook to the reservation first before returning home. I wouldn’t feel right sending her alone.”

“Can’t one of your father’s men take her home? Or Soars-Like-An-Eagle?”

“Laughing Brook is my problem, not my father’s. She’ll go with us.”

“Then I’m not going with you,” Storm said.

Grady took one look at her stubborn, jutting chin and sighed in exasperation. Though he was weary of Laughing Brook’s constant attempts at seduction, he was determined to resist Storm’s unreasonable jealousy and demands. He felt strongly that Storm should be the one to make amends, for she was the one who had left him, not the other way around.

“When Tim and I leave Peaceful Valley both you and Laughing Brook will accompany us. We’ll travel by wagon this time. The trails are safe enough for overland travel and the weather at this time of the year is good.”

Storm deliberately turned her back on Grady, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how hurt she was by his stubborn refusal to bow to her wishes.

“How do I know you won’t meet someone along the way who’s out to prove he’s a better gunman than the infamous Renegade? What assurance do I have that a gunman isn’t waiting for you in Guthrie, itching to prove he’s a faster draw than you are?”

“You have no assurance,” Grady said quietly. “Neither do I. You’ll just have to accept my word that I will only draw to defend myself. Look at me, Storm.” He turned her around to face him. “A man who refuses to defend himself winds up dead. What am I supposed to do when a man challenges me?”

Storm stared at him for the space of a heartbeat, her eyes as bleak as her heart. “I don’t want to go through life wondering when someone from your past will show up and disrupt our lives. I deserve better. Your son deserves better.”

“Sooner or later someone faster on the draw than I will emerge to take my place and I’ll be forgotten. Meanwhile, we go on as before, living our lives on our homestead with our children. You do want children, don’t you?”

Storm hesitated, trying to decide whether she should tell Grady about the baby. She was silent so long, Grady thought she couldn’t bear the thought of having his child. Anger overrode his better judgment as he flung himself from the bed.

“Perhaps Laughing Brook would like to have my child,” he flung out carelessly. “Most wives are overjoyed to bear their husband’s children.”

Storm sucked in a scalding breath. “I’m not a brood mare. And furthermore, I’m not like other women.”

“Damn you, Storm! Damn you to hell! Wouldn’t it be ironic if I just planted a baby in you? You’d have little to say in the matter if a baby was growing in you right now.” Suddenly a devious smile curved his lips and Storm shuddered at the coldness of the gesture. “If you
are
carrying my child, you’ll have to return with me to Oklahoma.”

By the time Storm found her voice Grady had flung on his clothes and stormed from the
room. She lay there in silence, mulling over his words and what they implied. Since they had never talked about children, she had no idea how strongly he felt on the matter. Obviously he didn’t want Tim to be an only child. She knew Summer Sky had been pregnant with their second child when she was killed, but she certainly didn’t intend to breed year after year until she was a worn-out shell of a woman. Grady’s mother obviously hadn’t been overburdened with children, and Blade didn’t seem to mind.

Grady went in search of his father immediately after he left Storm. When he had arrived earlier Blade had been out on the range. He found Blade in his study, waiting for him. When he entered the small room that smelled of leather and tobacco, poignant childhood memories came rushing back to him. He had spent many a happy hour with his father in this room, learning how to balance the ledgers and run the ranch. Blade stood up the moment Grady entered.

Father and son started at one another, neither moving, each aware of the differences that separated them. Both men were tall, both thickly muscled and broad shouldered. Grady was as darkly handsome as Blade, possessing the same bronze skin, midnight black hair, and proud bearing. Of the two, Grady more closely resembled their Indian forebears, with his fierce expression and stark features. Blade was the first to speak.

“Welcome home, son. I’ve waited a long time for this day.” He held out his arms in open welcome.

Grady hesitated a moment, then rushed forward, returning his father’s bear hug and pounding him on the back. He was so choked with emotion all he could say was, “I’m sorry.”

“We’ve missed you.”

Grady held Blade at arm’s length, staring into his eyes. “I had to leave, Dad. I was bitter, disillusioned, and too immature to accept the terrible blow fate had dealt me.”

“You were a youth when you left, Grady, and now you’re a man. The years may not have been kind to you, but you’ve learned lessons I couldn’t have taught you had you remained at Peaceful Valley.”

“Can you and Mother forgive me for my neglect? And—I’ve done things you might not want to forgive me for. The kind of life I’ve led since leaving the ranch would shame you and Mother.”

“I know everything—or nearly everything,” Blade said quietly. “We’re not so isolated out here that we didn’t hear about the renegade Indian who fought against oppression on the western plains.”

“The People call me Thunder.”

“Jumping Buffalo has already told me. Returning to the People and learning their ways was a bold and brave thing to do. It made a man of you. We won’t speak of the other
because I hope you’ve given up that kind of life now that you have a wife and home of your own.”

“I suspected you’ve kept in touch with Jumping Buffalo. I shouldn’t have hurt you and Mother by taking Tim away.”

“He’s back now,” Blade said simply. “I’m proud of you for the way you’ve taken hold of your life once again. Storm has told me so much about your homestead. It pleases me, though it would please me more if you came back to the ranch and took your rightful place here at my side. This will all be yours one day, you know. Dawn’s husband has no desire to live away from San Francisco, and Spring writes that her future husband has a thriving law practice in Boise. What will happen to Peaceful Valley if you return to Oklahoma?”