Texas Heroes: Volume 1 (17 page)

The edges of it began to soften, and he heard Maddie sigh as the cramp finally let go. Knowing it could rebound, he continued the motions, moving from the one spot to cover the whole leg. As his fingers slid over the back of her knee, Maddie moaned a catchy little breath. Boone quickly shifted past the sensitive spot and down to her shapely calf, then down more to knead her long, slender foot.

Maddie sighed, and Boone smiled, glad to be easing her pain. He turned his attentions to the other foot, then up that right leg. With every stroke of his hands, Maddie melted and relaxed.

Until he reached her right thigh, and she moaned.

But it was not a moan of pain.

Boone froze, fingers wrapped around her thigh. He tried to swallow, but his throat had turned to sand. Carefully, he removed his hands from Maddie’s body, preparing to rise and leave.

“Thank you,” Maddie said dreamily, her husky voice even lower, its timbre reaching down to vibrate in his loins. She rolled over, brushing hair out of her face with a lazy feline grace. Her robe gapped at the neck, and he could see the shadowy curve of one breast.

She saw where he was looking. Color was high in her cheeks, but her eyes were dark and knowing. Slender fingers dropped the satin fall of hair and moved to close the robe, her every gesture tempting him to stay her hand and replace it with his own.

Neither one moved.

The air crackled around them. Boone saw his own raging hunger reflected in Maddie’s eyes.

He clenched his fingers, denying them access to what he craved. He wanted Maddie like he’d never wanted anyone before her.

“Boone…” she began.

He could have her now. She was here, and she was willing. If only…

No
.

He laid one finger across her lips, that one simple touch searing his skin, shooting fire through his blood. “Don’t. Don’t say it. Don’t open that door, Maddie.”

“Maybe—”

He shook his head. “No. Don’t settle for less than you deserve.”

Her eyes widened at that. A tiny frown appeared between her brows.

Before his control completely broke, Boone lifted his finger from her soft, tempting lips and rose from Maddie’s bed. Drawing on every ounce of his control, he walked away from a woman who wanted him, too.

Walked away knowing that he had done the right thing.

But when he looked back and saw her curled into a ball on the bed, it was hard to remember why doing the right thing was so damn important.

Chapter Eight

M
addie rocked on the porch swing and drank her coffee, watching the sky lighten from the sunrise on the opposite side of the house. She huddled deeper into her peacock robe and wondered how she’d ever survive the next three weeks.

Her sleep had been restless, though her soreness was much better, thanks to Boone’s care. But another ache replaced the twinge of ill-used muscles.

She had no name for this ache. Part was memory of his touch on her skin, how those hands had felt even better than she’d imagined. Strong, gentle… drawing a different ache from deep down inside her. Maddie shivered at the memory of what Boone’s hands had made her feel. Once the knotted muscles let go, the pain had evaporated in the wake of a desire so powerful it had knocked Maddie for a loop.

She would have welcomed him into her bed at that moment and forsaken every ounce of sense she’d ever possessed. She would have opened her body to him and paid the piper later.

But Boone had turned her down flat. Maddie wasn’t sure how she’d ever face him again. He didn’t know the behavior was unlike her. She had never offered herself to a man before, never come close to pleading, yet twice now she had wanted nothing more. She was still shocked at how easy it would have been to do just that.

Boone had wanted her, too. That much, she knew. Even if she’d been blind and deaf, if she hadn’t seen his eyes go dark and hot or heard his voice turn husky, Maddie would still have felt the air vibrate with electric, roaring hunger.

But Boone had had the control she had lacked, and Maddie was still puzzling over his last words.
Don’t settle for less than you deserve
.

Now she heard him on the stairs and held her breath, praying he wouldn’t see her out here, wouldn’t come near.

When his steps headed toward the kitchen, Maddie exhaled her relief. Boone could get his own breakfast this morning. She’d been sorely tempted to pack up and leave in the middle of the night.

But if she did, she would never be able to keep the promise she’d made to her father’s memory. She’d never satisfy her own growing yearning to know her roots. And she couldn’t break her promise to Boone, though she no longer kidded herself that she’d be welcome here once her term was up.

Maddie thought about her naiveté in thinking she and Boone could be friends. Right now, she didn’t see how she could even be in the same room with him.

But she would do it, somehow. She wouldn’t tuck tail and run. Her father had found the courage to leave all that he loved and make a new life. Her grandmother had endured dying alone. If Sam was right, her forebears had faced drought and disaster, survived the threat of starvation. Maddie would not be found lacking just because she was embarrassed.

She wanted to give up today’s riding lesson, but she wouldn’t. She would face Boone somehow and keep going. Maddie Rose Collins wasn’t a quitter.

But she would never let such a lapse happen again. She had been right about Boone’s hands. They were dangerous, so strong and skilled. She had been in such misery, and he had soothed her, had used his voice to reassure and his hands to heal. When the pain had let go, his touch had scatter-shot desire throughout her body. The memory of it made her shiver still.

When she heard the back door close and Boone’s steps head down the porch and away, Maddie sighed.

Twenty-three days and counting.

That afternoon, Boone watched Maddie dismount, thankful that those long legs did the trick. He’d stood back and let her mount by herself earlier, not willing to risk touching her unless absolutely necessary. She’d settled into the saddle and pointedly ignored him.

An unvoiced warning had surrounded her all day.

Keep away
.

Maddie’s voice could have shouted it, but her posture made that unnecessary. She had brought him lunch as had become her habit, but nothing else was the same. Instead of peppering him with questions, her laughter quick and easy, Maddie had barely looked at him. Silent as a wraith, she had only spoken to tell him that she would be ready for her next lesson if he had time. That she even wanted to try surprised him.

It was obvious she didn’t understand why he’d pulled away from her last night, but nothing could be served by explaining. He had exactly the result he needed: Maddie had become a stranger again; unfortunately, this time one who didn’t smile.

He should be happy. He had the distance he needed.

He
was
happy, damn it.

Muttering savagely, Boone dismounted from Gulliver. He and Maddie had passed the time silently, each lost in his own thoughts. The only conversation had been what he’d needed to say to guide her on proper handling of her horse. Maddie’s responses had been short and to the point. Not rude or angry, just—

Not Maddie.

Keep away
. He hadn’t realized how much he’d miss her sparkle.

He heard a car come up the road and stop in front of the house. Glancing at Maddie, he saw that she didn’t recognize it, either.

“Want me to see who it is or stay with the horses?” she asked.

The day was too hot. He’d unsaddle the horses first. “You go ahead. I’ll be right there.”

Boone made short work of unsaddling the horses and turning them out. With long strides he made his way to the house.

When he opened the back door, he heard the sound he’d been missing.

Maddie’s laughter.

The black-haired man looked up from his glass of tea, green eyes sliding from laughter to wariness.

“Boone,” Maddie spoke. “This is Devlin Marlowe.”

Marlowe rose and held out his hand. He was a few inches shorter than Boone, lean but with an air of muscles waiting to explode into motion. He reminded Boone of a boxer, and his nose attested to at least one break. But he hadn’t taken many blows to the head if he did box —his eyes held keen intelligence, looking at Boone with too much knowledge, too much advantage of who knew what conversations with Sam.

“Boone Gallagher,” he replied, taking Marlowe’s firm grip in his own.

Then they stepped back to their corners and each studied the other.

“Would you like some iced tea, Boone?” Maddie asked.

He jerked his gaze away and nodded. “I can get it.”

Maddie’s tone turned formal when speaking to him. “Just sit down. I have a glass right here.” She handed Boone his tea, then turned to Marlowe, offering the pitcher with a smile. “More tea, Mr. Marlowe?”

“Thank you. Please call me Dev, Ms. Collins.”

Maddie’s smile brightened. “Oh, let’s don’t stand on ceremony, Dev. Call me Maddie.” She turned to Boone and her eyes sparkled. “Dev was in my restaurant once, he tells me.”

Marlowe’s smile widened. “Best food I ever put in my mouth.”

“What did you have?” she asked.

They began discussing the menu as though there was nothing more important in life than fine food. It irritated the hell out of Boone how the two of them smiled and laughed like old friends.

He cleared his throat. “What do you need from me to find my brother?”

Marlowe appeared startled at the brusque interruption, casting a quick, apologetic smile at Maddie. “Anything you’ve got. I don’t always know until I see it. Your father just handed me what he thought I needed.”

The mention of Sam turned the atmosphere strained. Boone wondered exactly what his father had told this man about him. Nothing too good, from Marlowe’s manner toward him.

It didn’t matter. Sam was dead, and it was none of Marlowe’s business what had happened between Boone and his father.

“We’ll go through his office first, then you might want to go through the attic. There used to be boxes of stuff up there. I don’t know if there’s anything that could help you, but my mother never threw anything away, even items that were here when we moved in.”

Maddie’s quick gasp caught his attention. “Before you moved in? You mean, there might be something of my grandmother’s up there?”

Boone nodded slowly, sorry he hadn’t thought of them before. “I think I remember a trunk or something that was in the attic when we first started putting stuff up there.”

Maddie looked poised to race up the stairs that very minute.

Boone held up a hand. “Maddie, I don’t know if Sam kept any of it.”

Maddie rose. “I’d like to see.”

“It’s too hot up there right now, in this afternoon heat. I wouldn’t recommend either of you going up there until morning.”

“What about tonight when it cools down?”

“There’s no electricity up there.”

“What about a flashlight?”

“I don’t know how good the footing is, but there’s a big window if you can wait until morning.”

Impatience jittered in Maddie’s expression.