Samantha James (36 page)

“And how sweet you tasted here—” His tongue curled around her nipple, a wanton caress that stole her breath.

It spun through her mind that the gentleness of his touch was at complete odds with the cold, relentless purpose in his eyes, the harshness of his whisper. Yet she couldn’t fight the insidious heat that engulfed her. She couldn’t fight
him
. Her body remembered all too well the pleasure he had given her.

He raised his head. Triumph flashed through him as he observed her parted lips, the ragged trickle of her breath. He swept his hand down her belly, threading his fingers through the soft fleece that guarded her womanhood. Flames of blistering heat shot through her as one daring finger taunted with brazen, silken strokes that called forth a wealth of passion’s dew. Kane could hardly breathe as he felt the proof of her desire.

He slid down her body. “Do you know what it’s like to want someone so bad you hurt and burn inside? Do you?” His voice was a low growl against the hollow of her belly. “Tell me, Abby. Tell me!”

But he gave her no chance to respond. He shifted suddenly. He spread her thighs with the bulk of his shoulders. Air escaped her lungs in a scalding rush.

“No.” Her protest came weakly. “Oh, no …”

Her mind reeled. She couldn’t believe that he would actually … Lord, it was too intimate, too daring and irreverent, too … She pushed at the knotted muscles of his shoulders but there was no denying him.

His breath scorched the silken flesh of her inner thigh. Boldly he found what he sought, the rough velvet of his tongue a sizzling flame of wet fire. Her body was a stranger’s; dimly Abby heard herself crying out, again and again. A burning ache ignited inside her, there in that place he possessed so fully. She began to writhe and moan, her senses screaming for release.

But he wasn’t yet ready to end her torture. He levered himself over her. “Do you want me to stop?” He rubbed the thickened ridge of his manhood against her sleek dampness, tormenting them both.

“No,” she gasped out. “No!” Her eyes were glazed and wide open. Her nails dug into the hardness of his arms, as if to capture and keep him there forever.

He caught her lips with his. “Do you want me?” he said into her mouth. “Do you?”

Abby “could no longer deny herself. She could no longer deny him. “Yes,” she panted. “Dear God, yes!”

“Tell me. Tell me
I’m
the one you want—not Buck.”

“I want you,” she moaned. “Kane, please … I want you.”

“Look at me,” he ground out. His eyes were black and burning.

Helplessly she raised her eyes. Her hands lifted. Her fingertips skimming—gliding—she explored the hollows of his cheeks, the blade of his nose.

In that mind-splitting instant, Kane knew … Her words were just that—words. No matter how much she denied it, she still loved him. It was there in the shimmer in her eyes, the gentle movement of her hands on his face, the tremulous offering of lips she could no longer withhold.

He braced himself above her, hard and achingly full, knowing if he didn’t take her soon he would explode. “Hold me,” was all he could say.

Her arms crept around his neck.

An odd look washed across his features. Regret? Surrender?

His eyes squeezed shut. His fingers dug into the softness of her bottom. He slid inside her, all velvet-encased steel. She cried out and wrapped her legs around his, wordlessly urging him deep … still deeper. Then he was driving. Thrusting. Dark and desperate, the tempo of their union wild and fierce.

Again and again he plunged into her, filling her even as he was filled with a flood of emotion too great to contain. His low groan welled up from deep in his chest. “Oh, God,” he moaned. “You’re mine, Abby … mine … You know that, don’t you.. Mine …”

Her hips met his, time and again, as frenzied and urgent as his. Her fingers rode his buttocks, the churning and bunching of sleek muscle. Tremors raced along his spine, tremors that echoed clear to where he lay buried so deep inside her. She shattered around him; her pulsing spasms rushed him toward the edge. He shuddered and spilled himself inside her again and again, hot and honeyed, scalding and splendid.

Drained and exhausted, he rolled from her, but not before he’d pressed a kiss to her half-open mouth. He smiled slightly. She was still gasping and struggling for breath. He reached for her, wanting to cradle her close for the rest of the night.

At his touch, her body went rigid.

She lurched upright. Kane was left staring at the naked lines of her back. Her shoulders were heaving.

His heart skipped a beat. “Abby?”

She jumped up and grabbed the quilt from the bed, shielding her nakedness before whirling to face him. Tears stood in her eyes. A dry, ragged sob tore from her chest.

“How could you do this to me?” she cried. “Did you really think you could seduce me into changing my mind?”

His feet hit the floor. He reached for his pants, his jaw clenched hard. “Seduce you! What the hell kind of nonsense is that? All I wanted to do was show you how right we are together. You need me, Abby, as much as I need you—”

“No!” It was no longer a matter of need or want. It was a matter of pride and he’d bruised hers sorely. “I’m through with you. Do you hear me? You may very well own half this ranch, but you don’t own me! I want you out, Kane, out of my bed and out of my house. So just go … Go and don’t ever come back!” She was crying now, but Kane was too furious to care. He shoved his arms into his shirt, grabbed his boots and shoved his way past her.

Not until he was outside again did he let loose of the bitter storm in his heart. A blistering curse filled the air. He glanced back at the house, his eyes guttering like frost.

She had made her feelings very clear—she thought it was over between them. He had the sneaking suspicion hell would freeze over before she would admit she was wrong. And he was very much afraid she was stubborn enough to go ahead and marry Buck Russell. The very thought of her with another man was like a crushing blow to his heart.

He couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not ever. And he damn sure couldn’t let her marry Buck Russell …

He could think of only one sure way to stop her.

Two hours later Abby was still tossing and turning. A restless stirring churned in her breast. The bed was too big, her heart too empty, her mind too full of all that had happened tonight. Worst of all, she ached with the memory of Kane’s lovemaking, the way his touch stole her breath, the ripe yielding of her body giving way to his stretching, filling heat …

Her heart squeezed. Why had she sent Kane away? Why had she denied herself what she wanted most? Who was she deceiving but herself? Why had she let her wounded pride stand between them?

She still loved him. Dear God, she’d never stopped.

But in her urge to strike back at him, she’d said-some terrible things to him. A piercing ache shot through her. Would he ever forgive her? Would she ever forgive herself? If only she hadn’t sent him away! He had come back not once, but twice. Would he come back again? She battled the urge to cry. She was very much afraid he wouldn’t …

She couldn’t marry Buck. Kane had opened her eyes in that respect, at least. In some dark place deep inside, she wondered if she could have gone through with it, even if Kane hadn’t reappeared.

Punching her pillow, she rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling. Shadows leaped from every corner. The night lay steeped in silence, a silence so absolute she heard the nicker of the horses in the paddock. It was strange, because the sound seemed so much closer than usual.

Her eyes flew open. She froze. There were soft footfalls coming down the hall—or was it merely the thrumming of her pulse?

Eyes straining, she leaned up on an elbow. “Who’s there?” she called sharply.

The footsteps, more distinct now, came closer. She felt her heart laboring, her lungs struggling to breathe. All she could think was that she was about to be robbed—or worse!—and Kane was nowhere around …

The creak of the door made her jump. She gasped as the broad-shouldered outline of a man slowly filled the doorway. Against the gloom of the night, his features were indistinct.

The glitter of cold, silver eyes was very, very familiar.

Her shocked gaze turned to a glare, as searing as her tone was icy. “I thought I told you to leave!” She slipped from the bed and faced him bravely, very glad she’d taken the time to slip into a nightgown.

He ignored her and stepped into the room. “I won’t let you marry Buck Russell,” he said calmly.

Her lips tightened mutinously. She snatched up a shawl from the bedpost and tugged it around her shoulder, her resentment surfacing in full force. “If that’s what I want, you can’t stop me!”

“I think I can, sweetheart.”

A scathing retort trembled on her lips. But it struck her that he was so very calm, so very controlled. There was an utterly inflexible air about him that gave her pause. In the meantime, his gaze flickered over her. “I’d get dressed if I were you,” he said curtly. “Unless you intend to tell your children and grandchildren you became a bride dressed in your nightgown and bare feet.”

Abby blinked. She made no move to obey. Surely she hadn’t heard right. Maybe this was all just a dream …

“Fine,” he muttered. “It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other.”

He ducked and swept her over his shoulder. Abby’s eyes flew wide as the world turned topsyturvy. She pounded his back with her fists. “Kane! For heaven’s sake, are you crazy? Put me down! I’m not going anywhere with you …” They were on the stairs now; the jouncing of his shoulder into her belly drove the air from her lungs. She was breathless and dizzy by the time they reached the parlor.

He set her on her feet in the center of the floor.

“You see, Abby, I
can
stop you from becoming Buck Russell’s wife.”

Her eyes blazed her defiance. “I’d like to know how!”

“It’s very simple, sweetheart. You can’t marry him if you’re already married to me.” He stepped aside, revealing a mousy-looking man perched on the edge of the settee. He was trussed up hand and foot, a gag between his teeth.

The man was Reverend Gaines.

T
he world around her buzzed and grew dim. For a heart-stopping instant, she feared she might faint. This was no dream—it was all too real. The reverend’s presence squelched any doubts she might have had that Kane wasn’t serious … deadly serious as evidenced in the fearful brown eyes that even now issued a soulful plea in her direction. Kane expected her to marry him.

Here. Tonight.
Now
.

She cast him a look filled with reproach. “Dear Lord,” she cried. “Did you have to kidnap the poor man!” Three steps took her to the reverend’s side. He was, she noted, as inappropriately attired as she. She removed the cloth wedged between the man’s lips.

He gasped in a grateful breath of air. “Miss MacKenzie! Thank heaven you’re here. This—this madman stormed into my house, dragged me out of bed and demanded I leave with him! When I refused, he threatened me with bodily harm!”

Abby’s chin jutted out. “Is this what you’ll do to me if I refuse to marry you?” Her gaze bounced back to Kane, her tone withering. “Tie me up and gag me?”

“If he hadn’t been so damned stubborn I wouldn’t have had to lay a hand on him. I brought him here to marry us. And by God, I’ll do whatever I have to.”

His expression was stony. Clearly he meant every word.

She gave a strangled cry of rage and turned her attention to the reverend’s hands—at least she thought it was rage. All at once she didn’t know. Her emotions were a hopeless muddle. She wasn’t certain if she should be angry or elated, incredulous or indignant, anxious or confused—it seemed she was a little of all those things.

Her fingers were so clumsy she couldn’t undo the loose knot that held the reverend’s wrists together. Kane made a sound of impatience and pushed her hands aside. She straightened, her knees so weak she could hardly stand.

The last knot loosened. The rope slipped from the reverend’s ankles. Kane wasted no time pulling the unfortunate man to his feet. “Get on with it, man!”

Reverend Gaines’s eyes nearly bulged from his head. “I—I neglected to bring my Bible!”

The fierceness of Kane’s features pinned him to the floor. “I can’t believe you don’t know what needs to be said!”

Reverend Gaines was growing paler by the second. “But there are no witnesses,” he blurted. “How can I perform a marriage ceremony without witnesses?”

Kane swore under his breath. “Wait here!” he said gratingly. The sweep of his gaze encompassed both the reverend and Abby. He strode from the room. Seconds later the door slammed behind him.

It seemed like he was barely gone before he returned. This time Dorothy and Lucas trailed behind him. Lucas was yawning, still buttoning his shirt. Dorothy was clad in a voluminous nightdress. Her eyes lit up when she spied Abby. Her arms encircled the younger woman in a fierce hug. “Abby, I’m so happy for you. I knew he hadn’t deserted you—I just knew it!” She stepped back, still beaming.

Kane took his place beside Abby. He didn’t bother looking at her as he tugged her hand into the crook of his elbow. Hazily she heard Reverend Gaines’s wavering beginning.

“Dearly beloved …”

Her mind was spinning. Was this really happening? She clutched her shawl more tightly around her shoulders. She stole a glance at him, disconcerted to discover him watching her. She searched his face for some sign of tenderness, or even affection, but his expression was hidden behind the screen of his eyes. He was grim and unsmiling, hardly the picture of a man in love! Oh, she knew he desired her. Was that why he’d gone to all this trouble to see that they were married—simply because he wanted her in his bed? The very thought tore at her heart, yet what else
could
she believe?

She began to tremble. She bent her head to hide die sudden tears that sprang to her eyes, unaware of the faint choked sound she made.

“Stop.”

The word sliced the air like the sound of a bullet; Reverend Gaines stumbled to a gaping halt. Lucas stared at Kane with an unsettled frown, while Dorothy held her breath.