Samantha James (35 page)

Kane accepted it with a grimace. “I’m not so sure,” he said with a short laugh. “Abby’s got herself in a dither because I left without telling her. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t know if I’d even make it back.” He went on to tell Dillon of all that had happened in New Mexico.

By the time he’d finished, the lines in Dillon’s forehead had eased, while Kane’s had deepened.

“I didn’t want to raise any false hopes in case I ended up in prison—or dangling at the end of a noose. But Abby doesn’t see it that way.”

Kane fell silent. Damn! She still cared. He knew it. It’she hadn’t cried, he might have believed otherwise. But even with tears streaming down her face, she had denied him. What the hell was he supposed to do?

He stared into what little of the amber-colored liquid remained in his glass. “Shit,” he muttered aloud. “I can’t go. Yet how the hell can I stay when it looks like she’s about to tie the knot with somebody named Buck Russell!”

Dillon shook his head. “I’m afraid I may be to blame for that,” he admitted. “Pa left half the ranch to each of us, but I wish to hell he’d left me out of it. I’d turn my half over to her, but how can I? She knows a lot about ranching, especially for a woman. But the Diamondback’s too much for her to handle. She needs a partner. I help out when I can, but I just don’t have the time or the inclination.” His lips thinned. “It’s common knowledge I got no call for ranching. Buck Russell probably figures if he marries Abby, he’ll have it all for himself.”

Kane was just a little puzzled. “Sounds like you don’t have much use for Buck Russell.”

“Damn right I don’t. He’s a cold, heartless bastard. All he cares about is land and power and money. The only reason he wants to marry Abby is so he can get his hands on the ranch. I tried to tell Abby he’s not the man for her.” He snorted. “The stubborn little fool won’t listen! Says she’s got the future to worry about.” He slammed his hand down against the desk. “You can’t let her marry him, Kane. You have to stop her somehow!”

Kane was startled. “I think she’s a lot more likely to listen to you than me—”

“Oh, but I think you could be a hell of a lot more persuasive than I could. Do whatever you have to. You understand what I’m saying? I won’t stand in your way.”

Kane stared at him, almost unable to believe what he was hearing. “Why are you doing this?” he asked quietly. “Why would you possibly take my side against Buck Russell?”

“For the best reason in the world.” Dillon looked him straight in the eye. “Better a man who loves her than a man who doesn’t.”

Kane looked down at his hands. He laughed, an odd note in his voice. “Guess it shows, huh?”

Dillon’s eyes softened. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. This is my sister we’re talking about, remember?” A glimmer of understanding passed between them. Strangely enough, Kane didn’t feel at all foolish over his confession.

Dillon’s smile faded. “Now,” he muttered, not bothering to disguise his impatience, “we just have to figure out a way to get Buck Russell out of the picture.”

Kane swirled the whiskey in his glass. His mind drifted to Lorelei’s ranch, the ranch he’d just sold in New Mexico. He’d insisted that Rusty take a healthy chunk of the profit—after all, he owed Rusty his freedom—but he was still a wealthy man. His jaw hardened. Yet what good was money, if he didn’t have Abby?

The idea came out of nowhere; it caught and took hold …

He was on his feet before he realized it, staring at Dillon. “What a minute,” he said slowly. “You said something before, about turning your half of the ranch over to Abby.”

Dillon’s lips thinned. “I would, if Buck Russell was out of the way.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” Kane stated calmly. “Why not sell it to me?”

Buck proposed the next afternoon.

They sat beneath the shelter of a copse of trees, near the bank of the river. Fluffy white clouds floated overhead. Birds flitted to and fro, high above their heads. There was just enough breeze to cool the warm air and keep the heat from being stifling. It really would have been so very idyllic, even romantic, she mused vaguely. But although the setting was everything a woman could ask for ….

The man was not.

“Well, Abby? How about it? You willing to marry me or not?”

To Abby’s dismay, the muscles of her throat locked tight. A flurry of panic gripped her mind. Was this right or wrong? Dillon wanted out. Buck wanted in.

It struck her then … It’she married Buck, she would be spending a lifetime tied to this brash, imperious man. Instinct warned her that his own needs would always come first—never hers. Dear Lord! How could she say yes?

Her mind screamed a resounding no. But her traitorous lips were another story. “Yes,” she heard herself say, as if from a very great distance. “I’ll marry you, Buck.”

A big hand squeezed her knee. “Just think. The Triple R and the Diamondback.” His laugh was bursting with satisfaction. “Honey, nobody in this whole territory is gonna be bigger ‘n better than us!”

The rest of the day passed in a daze. Abby felt curiously numb and lifeless. They had a light supper at Buck’s place; for the life of her Abby couldn’t have recalled what they ate. It was dark by the time they returned to the Diamondback.

Buck walked her to the front door. The inside of the house was dark. Abby guessed that Lucas and Dorothy had gone back to their own place for the night.

Buck’s hands settled heavily on her shoulders. He turned her to him. “It occurred to me this evening that Denver would be a hell of a good place for a honeymoon. Might as well mix a little business with pleasure.”

Buck had pressed her several times during the evening to set a wedding date. She had been deliberately evasive. Now her breath caught.

“That’s less than two weeks away, Buck.”

Broad, leather-vested shoulders lifted in a shrug. “Don’t see any point in waiting. Besides, it’ll be hard to fit in a wedding once we start fall round-up.”

Abby curbed her annoyance. In his arrogance, it never occurred to him that she might change her mind.

In the moonlight, his eyes glimmered. “Now,” he murmured, “how about another kiss?”

Abby stiffened, but he paid no heed. His mouth came down on hers, hard and demanding, his tongue intrusive. She made a faint sound low in her throat but Buck was intent on his own pleasure. She would have pushed him away but his arm had clamped tight around her back. Her hands were trapped so tightly between their bodies she couldn’t move.

Her lips felt throbbing and bruised by the time he’d lifted his head. He ran a finger down her jaw. “‘Night, sweetheart,” he drawled.

A moment later the buckboard rolled away. Abby remained where she was, one hand pressed against her breast, trying vainly to still the turmoil in her heart.

“You know, I’m getting real tired of that man helping himself to what’s mine. If you don’t put a stop to it, sugar, I will.”

Abby’s heart jumped.
Kane
. His voice came from the shadows just off to her right. Even as she strained to see, he strode into view. Lord, but he was infuriating. Who did he think he was, spying on her—again!

He took a seat on the top step, his back braced against the post, his wrist hitched across his bent knee. An arrogant smile curved his lips as he held her gaze. His offhand manner rattled her temper. She bit back the retort that sprang to her lips. Instead she smiled-sweetly.

“I guess I was wrong, Kane. It seems you
are
the first one to know, after all … You see, Buck asked me to marry him today. Naturally, I accepted.”

His smile was wiped clean. He was up and on his feet with a swift economy of movement. He captured her wrists and pulled her close. His features bore a mask of anger, yet his words weren’t what she expected.

“Don’t do this, Abby. Don’t marry him to spite me.”

Abby’s eyes flashed. “That has nothing to do with it!”

“Then why? Because you need a man to help run this ranch? I can do that, Abby. I
will
do it, if you just give me a chance.”

“You?” Her laugh was scraping. “Why, Kane, you’re hardly a good prospect. I never know when you’re going to appear and disappear!”

He ignored her jab. His grip on her wrists tightened. “You don’t love him. You know you don’t.”

“I’m going to marry him, Kane. And you can’t stop me!”

“You’re right. I can’t. But I think there’s something that just might stop
him
from wanting to marry you.”

Her struggles stopped. A prickly unease raised the hair on her neck. “What do you mean?” she whispered.

Something that might have been regret flashed in his eyes. “I saw Dillon last night after I left here. We had quite a talk, your brother and I. Dillon’s convinced Buck’s only reason for marrying you is to get his hands on the Diamondback. No doubt he thinks Dillon will just bow out and he can do as he pleases.”

Abby winced. That was something that might prove true—she simply hadn’t wanted to consider it.

“But Dillon won’t hand over his half of the ranch to Buck,” Kane continued. “Do you know why?”

Abby had gone utterly still. She shook her head, her widened eyes on his face.

“Because Dillon sold his share of the ranch to me last night. I’m your new partner.”

D
isbelief washed over her. “No,” she said faintly. “You’re lying.”

“We’re meeting at the bank at ten sharp tomorrow morning to finalize the papers.”

She shook her head. “You’re lying,” she said again. “You don’t have that kind of money—”

“I do now, Abby. I told you last night, I sold Lorelei’s ranch in New Mexico. That’s what held me up for so long getting back here.”

A blind, irrational anger swept over her. She wrenched away from him. This time Kane made no move to stop her.

“God, I hate you both, you and Dillon! Who do you think you are, to do this to me? Do you think I’ve got nothing to offer a man but this ranch? Am I a homely old spinster that no one could possibly want for any other reason?”

Kane regarded her soberly. Her pride, he realized, had been sorely bruised. “Of course not,” he began, stretching out a hand.

She slapped it away. “Don’t touch me!” she spat. “Do you really think Buck won’t marry me because of that? Well, I think you’re wrong—you’re forgetting I still own half this ranch!”

He sighed. “Abby, come tomorrow morning it’ll be nice and legal.”

“And maybe come tomorrow
evening
my marriage to Buck will be nice and legal! He wanted to be married by the time he left for Denver in two weeks, so I doubt he’ll mind pushing up the date. Why, Reverend Gaines would marry us right now if we asked him!”

Kane swore softly. “Dammit, Abby, why do you have to make this so hard? I’m asking you to be my wife—to hell with Buck Russell!”

“I’d never consent to marrying you, Kane, never!”

Pure fury tightened the white line of his mouth, but his insides had gone cold. By God, he wouldn’t beg. He tried that last night, and he’d be damned if he’d do it again. “You won’t marry Buck Russell either. You don’t love him.”

Abby trembled. It was galling that he knew her so well. She said the only thing she could think of, the thing she sensed would hurt him the most.

“I don’t love you either,” she cried. “And I
will
marry him because whether or not I love him doesn’t matter. He’s a better man than you, Kane! I cringe to think I ever let you touch me!”

A muscle in his cheek ticked. A fierce light blazed in his eyes. Fear seized hold of her. She began to back away. “Kane—”

“You’re a liar, Abby.” He advanced toward her, smiling that mocking smile she so loathed.

She flung out a hand. “Stay away from me, Kane!”

“And I’m going to prove it,” he continued as if she hadn’t even spoken.

She bolted inside the house. She snatched up the rifle near the front entrance and brought up the barrel just as he cleared the hallway.

“Hold it right there!” she cried. “I want you to leave, Kane—now!”

He’d stopped cold. “I’ll leave,” he said quite pleasantly. “As long as you go with me.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you ever again! I’m through with you, Kane!” She pointed the rifle at his chest.

“We’ve been through this before, Abby. You won’t shoot me.” He began to move forward.

She swallowed. He was so calm, so sure of himself—and of her. Nerveless fingers gripped the rifle stock more tightly. “Don’t, Kane. I—I warn you, you’ll be sorry!” She was on the verge of hysteria.

He made no answer. But the distance between them was closing. The barrel of the rifle wavered … but not that arrogant smile.

Whether she dropped the rifle or he grabbed it, Abby couldn’t say. The next thing she knew the rifle had clattered to the polished wooden floor. She was caught up against a hard male form and swept from her feet. Swift, purposeful steps bore her up the stairs to her bedroom. Before she had a chance to catch her breath she’d been dumped in the middle of her bed.

By the time she pushed herself upright, he had lit the lamp in the corner. Eyes locked with hers, he slowly unbuckled his belt.

Before her stunned, incredulous scrutiny, he stripped, swelling and quickening before her very eyes. The sight of his bold, jutting arousal galvanized her into action. She leaped from the bed.

It was no use. He toppled her back onto the bed with the heavy weight of his body. Abby tried to push him away, shatteringly aware of their closeness, of his warm, hard nakedness.

She gave a choked half-sob. “No! I don’t want you, Kane. I don’t want this!”

Soft, husky breath reverberated against her lips. “We’ll see, sweetheart. We’ll see.”

Her bodice was already halfway undone, her clothing no barrier at all. Within seconds she lay as naked and bare as Kane.

His gaze swept the length of her, lingering on the tremulous thrust of her breasts. Waves of hot and cold flashed through her. Her thoughts grew wild and panicked. No! She couldn’t let him do this. It’she did, it would happen all over again. She’d never be able to forget him … She would never stop loving him. Somehow she had to put an end to this before it was too late …

He lowered his head. His lips hovered dangerously near hers. “I used to lay awake at night and think about how it was, Abby. About how soft you were here …” With his thumbs he skimmed the sensitive tips of her breasts. Her body betrayed her; they quivered and strained for his touch. She closed her eyes against the sight of her traitorous flesh swelling ripe and eager into his palm.