Debra Webb - In His Touch Box Set (Here To Stay, Up Close, Tempting Trace, Basic Instincts) (2 page)

He glanced at her hand, then focused that intent gaze on her. “What?” he asked innocently.

“The key. I’ll be staying until Robert and Ginny return from Vegas. There’s no need for you to concern yourself with anything around here.”

“You’re staying
here
for two weeks?” His eyes mirrored the disbelief in his voice.

“That’s what I said,” Paige returned hotly. “Robert’s having some redecorating done. The contractors start tomorrow and I’ll be seeing that everything runs smoothly.”

Nathan pressed the key into her palm. His fingers lingered a little longer than necessary, sending a surge of heat through her that resurrected long denied feelings. Her insides quivered and Paige jerked her hand back. There had been a time when she would have given anything for Nathan’s touch, but not now. Not ever again. She hugged her arms around her middle and backed up the step she had taken. What she needed from him now had absolutely nothing to do with hormones.

“I can’t believe your daddy let you leave Memphis,” he said, his words dripping with sarcasm.

She bristled, counted to ten before delivering a response. It didn’t help. “I do what I want to do. My father doesn’t run my life.”

“Since when?” Nathan cocked his handsome head and laughed at her with his eyes. “You do whatever daddy tells you to do, Blondie. You always have.”

Paige winced at his use of the pet name he had given her so long ago. No one else but Nathan had ever called her that. She didn’t want to hear it. And she sure didn’t want to feel what he was making her feel. She clenched her teeth and glared at him with every ounce of anger she could marshal. Her severe glare only served to earn her a slow, sexy smile that would have shaken her clean down to her boots had she been wearing any.

“You don’t know anything about me anymore, Blackrope.” He was just as arrogant and hardheaded as she remembered. He hadn’t changed one iota.

“Right.” He choked out on a thin laugh. “I know all I need to know.” Resentment, hard and bitter, pooled in his eyes.

Unable to tolerate one more moment of the mounting tension, Paige marched to the door and jerked it open. Belatedly she considered how lucky she’d been to miss any shards of glass. “Good night, Mr. Blackrope.”

Two excruciatingly long beats passed before he moved. And when he moved, her breath caught. He sauntered over to the door in that self-assured gait that made her heart thud. He stopped right in front of her and gazed down into her eyes. She inhaled his scent before she had the presence of mind to hold her breath. A wild, earthy essence mingled with the same enticing aftershave he had always worn. This close, she noticed the fine lines around his eyes that didn’t used to be there. Lines that spoke of hard work, fast living, and maybe too much personal loss.

Every instinct urged her to run, but her heart wouldn’t let her. A gust of April’s cool night air swept in through the door and made her shiver. The breeze sent a wisp of hair fluttering across her face, trapping itself against her lips.

Gently, tentatively almost, he reached out and smoothed that loose tendril of hair back from her cheek. “You still look like Daddy’s little girl,” he murmured, his hand hovering near her face.

“And you look like the same bitter man you were the last time I saw you,” Paige replied as close in the vicinity of calm as her emotions would allow. She wanted to shout at him but he suddenly covered her mouth with his own in a punishing kiss.

Paige didn’t move—she didn’t dare. She couldn’t even close her eyes at first. She watched the pained expression that settled over his stony features as his firm lips ravaged hers. She’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that she had dreamed of being kissed by Nathan just one more time. And then she closed her eyes and surrendered to the kiss. Warmth glowed inside her as his mouth moved over hers. His tongue touched her lips then plunged into her mouth. He tasted of good Tennessee sipping whiskey, and Nathan—hot and demanding. He snaked his free arm around her waist and molded her from breast to thigh against his body.

She squeezed her hands into fists at her sides. Her heart ached to touch him. His lean, hard body felt rigid, ready to snap, against her. Rage and resentment radiated from him like heat rising from the miles of concrete and asphalt in downtown Memphis. She knew it would only take one touch to break him. She’d give anything to put her arms around him right now and soothe the tautness away, but she couldn’t. God, she just couldn’t. To touch him would be to admit that she wanted this as much as he seemed to. And she could never do that. She moaned softly in spite of herself as his kiss hardened to a bruising intensity. A deep groan sounded from him, filling her, intensifying the need she wanted desperately to deny.

Nathan tore his mouth from hers and glared down at her, his breath ragged. She wanted to look away, but his expression held her captive. It was the same fierce look he had worn when she had first met him as an unhappy, rebellious boy of ten fresh off the reservation.

Then, in one slow, sensuous movement, he flicked his tongue over his lower lip and made a satisfied sound. “You still taste like Daddy’s little girl.”

Paige slapped him as hard as she could. Her fingers stung from the blow. Anger consumed everything else she’d felt or imagined she’d felt. “Get out of here before I call the police and have you thrown in jail for assault.”

Nathan grasped her chin in his hand and forced her to look him in the eye. “You were a willing participant.” A muscle in his jaw jerked. “You wanted that as much as I did.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” she spat back, her anger a protection from the other dizzying emotions clutching at her. Paige twisted free and turned away from his haughty gaze. She stared at the dark night, waiting for him to storm out the door. He didn’t move. He remained so close she could feel his warm breath on her skin.

“There was a time when you wanted all of me,” he whispered against her temple.

“Please leave.” She tilted her head back and launched a warning glare. Swiftly changing emotions danced across his face before contempt took center stage.

“I’m going,” he muttered, and then pushed away from her. He walked out the open door without a backward glance.

Paige sucked in a deep breath. This was a mistake. She should have known better than to think she could work out anything with him. Nathan stopped at the edge of the porch and shifted to face her. Tension outlined every angle of his powerfully built body.

“I had a message on my answering machine about James. Seems he’s got a virus or something. Puking his guts out according to his wife.” He paused long enough for her to absorb the ramifications of his statement. “I’ll take care of his chores the next few days until he’s back on his feet.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Paige could certainly handle things if Robert’s ranch manager couldn’t work for a couple of days. “I can do whatever needs to be done myself.”

“I have a feeling you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” he said flatly.

“I said I’d do it myself.”

“There’s a lot more to it—”

“What’s wrong with you, Blackrope?” she cut him off. “Don’t you understand English?” She’d had it with his arrogant, self-assuming attitude. Paige didn’t want him taking care of her.

“I understand completely. I’m just not so sure you do.”

“I spent every summer of my life on this ranch until college. I think I have a pretty good idea of what has to be done.”

“I thought maybe you’d forgotten about those summers.”

“I only forgot the parts I wanted to forget.” She didn’t miss the flicker of hurt in his dark eyes. The hurt reverted to contempt so quickly, she wondered if she’d imagined it.

“All right, then.” His lips eased back into a firm, thin line. “If you decide you need help with anything, let me know.” He turned and started down the steps.

Paige shook her head. That was a low blow and she knew it. “I’m sorry, Nathan. I do appreciate your offer to help.” She wanted to wring his neck, not hurt his feelings. She didn’t hate him... that much. No matter what he had done in the past, he didn’t deserve that.

He hesitated and then looked back over his shoulder, his profile harsh and flinty. “Don’t thank me, Paige. I’m not doing it for you. I’m doing it for Robert.”

Paige slammed the door shut in response to his stinging rebuke. She felt the tears well in her eyes. She wouldn’t cry. She had cried over Nathan Blackrope the last time she ever intended to. She closed her eyes and allowed the image of Jesse to envelope her. She’d never have put herself in this position if it weren’t for Jesse. Any other time she would’ve turned Robert’s invitation to come to Trinity down flat. But fate had forced Paige to see that she had no choice. So here she was in Trinity to try and settle the past with a man who didn’t know the meaning of compromise.

Despite everything she had told herself, it only took one kiss for her to know that her feelings were still way too strong for Nathan. No matter. She and Nathan were over. She would never forgive him for what he’d done. Even if he got down on his arrogant Apache knees and begged her to forgive him for being the jerk he was—which he would never do—Paige would not forgive him.

~*~

Nathan braced himself against the truck. He closed his eyes and tried to still the emotions raging inside him. He concentrated with all his might to erase from his mind the picture of Paige standing there in that skimpy undershirt, her face still flushed with sleep. Blue eyes clear and bright. Soft, blond hair flowing over her shoulders. Slender curves and long, shapely legs that could drive a man crazy. Just looking at her had awakened the long-buried hunger he’d never felt for anyone else.

Why in the hell didn’t Robert tell him she would be here? Paige Weston was the last person on earth Nathan wanted to see. He didn’t like being reminded of the past. Robert, the old fox, had pulled one over on both of them. She had been just as shocked to see him as he was to see her.

The way his body reacted to hers tonight proved beyond a doubt that he would never get over her, not even if he lived a dozen lifetimes. He’d tried every way known to man to forget Paige, but he couldn’t. She was part of him. She had been since the first time he’d seen her.

Nathan had been ten at the time and angry—very angry. When Amos Collins had married his mother and brought the two of them to Trinity, Tennessee, from the reservation in Arizona, Nathan had done everything in his power to fight the situation short of running away. Though he’d hated Trinity, he would never have left his mother. She was the only real family he had left.

Then Robert Weston’s little niece came along in that frilly pink dress. Only eight years old, with pale blond hair and sky blue eyes. Like a vision in answer to his prayers and fasting. Nathan smiled as he thought of the little girl she used to be. Somehow she had made things all right for him in his new home.

Nathan dropped into the seat of his truck and started the engine. God, how he’d loved her. They’d grown up as best friends and somewhere along the way their feelings for each other had gone deeper. Soul mates, that’s what they’d called each other. Destined to be together for all time—until she’d broken his heart. Losing Paige had left him empty. No matter how hard he had tried, he hadn’t cared about much since. Nathan went through life doing what he had to do and nothing more. He damned sure didn’t have any right to kiss Paige the way he had just done. But that had been about punishing her. Fact was, he’d only punished himself.

Nathan shoved the gear shift into reverse and backed up enough to turn around. He spun away from the house and headed down the long drive. Living right across the road from Paige for the next two weeks wasn’t going to be easy. He had trained himself not to think about her most of the time, but it was the nights that got to him the worst. He would lay awake at night and think about how it could have been. He thought of all the years that had passed. Hundreds of nights that she should have been in his arms. Should have been bearing his children. Damn Elliott Weston, anyway. And damn her. Paige had allowed her father to come between them.

Nathan stopped the truck and released a long breath. He looked from right to left before pulling across the dark, deserted highway. He floored the accelerator and drove like a bat out of hell down his own drive. Elliott Weston might be a blood brother to Robert Weston, but that was sure as hell all they had in common. Paige’s father was a pompous bigot. He didn’t want his lily-white daughter to marry some Apache boy right off the rez. He wanted her to be exactly like him. And of course, Elliott Weston always got what he wanted.

Distracted by his anger, Nathan stamped the brake and skidded to a sideways stop just short of plowing through his front porch. He turned off the ignition and pressed his head against the steering wheel. He didn’t want to think about all this anymore. It hurt too much. Maybe he had scared her just bad enough that she’d go running back to daddy come morning.

He flung the truck door open, pushed himself out and stared back toward the Weston spread. He struggled to control the rage he felt. He didn’t want to feel any of this.

“Go back to Memphis, Paige,” he shouted into the wind. “There’s nothing in Trinity for you.”

Chapter Two

“Everything is under control, Robert,” Paige said into the cordless handset. “No, I haven’t seen a soul,” she lied. Paige had a sneaking suspicion that Robert had planned to throw her and Nathan together as much as possible during this visit. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how well his plan had worked.

“Yes, I feel fine,” she lied again. She hadn’t really felt fine since the surgery, but there was no point in dwelling on it.

She gave her reflection in the bureau mirror one last look. Jeans, T-shirt, ponytail. Good enough for country life, she decided. She listened to Robert’s voice on the other end of the line as he prattled on about the redecorating. She frowned at his unnecessary concern.

“Robert, please. You underestimate me. I spend my days battling hotshot district attorneys. How tough can a couple of home improvement contractors be?”