The Outlaw Bride (15 page)

Katherine had drifted off, the skirt she planned to hem for the autumn social this Saturday left untouched in her lap. Somewhere in the misty realm between wakefulness and sleep, Connor’s image drifted in. He tempted her with his smile, embraced her with his warmth, made her feel safe and wanted. She had no idea how long she sat there, slouched on the sofa dreaming, when a noise pulled her away from it. She jolted up and found the object of her torment standing in the empty doorway that separated the kitchen from the main room.

“You startled me.” Flustered, Katherine reached for the cup of tea she’d poured herself earlier and took a sip to cover her nervousness. Cool liquid slid down her throat.

Connor didn’t move.

“You’re staring,” she pointed out, in case he wasn’t aware. She was. All too aware, in fact. She could feel the burn on her skin where his gaze landed. It grew and spread like a wildfire caught in the wind.

“Am I?” Connor leaned a shoulder against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest, his manner a study in calm, and yet…yet there was something else. A tension that changed the line of his body. She could feel it vibrate in the space separating them.

He pushed away from the doorframe and came toward her, moving with the litheness of a cat stalking its prey.

“Did you get your chores done?” She grasped for something, anything to cut through the apprehension building inside of her.

“I did.”

“Oh.” Her grip on the cup and saucer tightened.

Connor stopped when he reached the overstuffed armchair and slid his hands into the back pockets of his denims.

He nudged his chin toward the skirt. “Is that one of Emily’s?”

“Oh…yes. I thought…I thought maybe for the social on Saturday. If you wanted to go, that is. You hadn’t really said.” She was blabbering, the words tumbling out of her mouth in a voice that sounded foreign to her. “I just thought…in case.”

Connor shrugged and walked around the low table in front of the sofa and sat down next to her. The cushion dipped beneath his weight. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his fingers laced together. The banded muscles of his forearms flexed where he’d rolled up his shirtsleeves.

Katherine glanced up only to be caught in his penetrating stare. He searched her face, looking for something. What, she didn’t know, but the fear he would see the secrets buried deep inside made her turn away. Her fingers ran along the rim of the teacup, discovering a small chip in the china. Spidery cracks crept out and scarred the delicate rose design.

“Did you have a good day?”

His question took her off guard. “Yes. Jenny and I had a great day.” Right up until he’d sent her emotions into a tailspin at the creek.

He nodded and leaned back, forcing her to turn slightly to keep him in her sight. “She’s doing better since you arrived.”

The cadence of his voice settled over her like a warm blanket. “I’m sure she would have done just as well without—”

“Sure would hate to see that ruined,” he said, cutting her off.

Ruined? “I would too.”

His gaze shifted to his thumb as he ran it along the calloused edge of his gun hand. Mesmerized, Katherine watched the movement. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering what those hands would feel like running over her smooth skin. An odd tickle tripped along her nerves and the teacup rattled against the saucer.

Connor reached over and wordlessly took the dishes from her. Their fingers touched, a small intimate stroke that sent a shiver up her arm.

Heat scalded her cheeks. She dropped her hands away and picked at the hem of the muslin skirt she’d been mending. She could hear her mama’s voice whispering in her ear, drowning out the pounding of her heart.

Don’t let yourself love a man, Katy. It’ll be the ruin of you for sure. He’ll leave and break your heart and won’t nothing ever be right with you again. You’ll just be a bunch of broken pieces swept out the door.

It made her think of the teacup, cracked and scarred.

Katherine gave herself a mental shake. Love had nothing to do with this. For heaven’s sake, she had known the man only a few weeks. It was just some strange, unexplained reaction brought on by close quarters and circumstances. And if life had taught her anything, it was that circumstances could change in a heartbeat.

“Jenny’s been through a lot,” he continued. “She’s seen more hurt in her short life than any little girl should have to.”

“You mean her father dying?” The words carved into her heart, sharp and painful. “I expect she must miss him a lot.”

He nodded then whispered, “We both do.” The unreadable mask slipped for a brief second and Katherine saw the ravages of loss and regret engraved deep into the pale blue of his eyes. It robbed her of breath. Without thinking, she put her hand over his to comfort him.

Connor brushed the curve of her hand. Short bursts of sensation spiraled up her arm and spread throughout her body like a lightning flash. Not once did he take his eyes off her. Her skin warmed wherever his gaze landed. She wanted to lean closer, bask in the sensation.

“The thing about Grant was,” he said, “I trusted him. More than anyone else. Never had any reason not to. Or so I thought. But he pulled the wool over my eyes. Real good. And it was easy, because I never once figured he’d do such a thing. I let my good opinion of him blind me to what was really there.”

Tell Con…I’m sorry.

What had Grant done?

“You see, that’s the thing about people. They make you believe one thing, and because that’s what you want to see, you go along with it. You get pulled in by the need to believe. But it’s never really the way things are.”

Katherine shook her head, confused. He was talking in riddles, riddles that made her heart pound at a scary pace while her mind worked frantically to unravel them. “I don’t understand.”

“Look at yourself,” he said, flipping a finger at her in a casual manner that belied the rigid tension coiling his muscles.

“Me?”

“You’re a bit of a mystery.”

“I am?” She pulled her hand away and curled it into a fist to press against the roiling in her belly.

“You draw a man in with your smile, your warmth. You make him think you’d do anything to help. You lead him to believe you won’t be any trouble at all. That you can make a difference, make things better.”

“I do?” Why didn’t that sound like a good thing?

He nodded. “But you never reveal much about yourself. Take your brother for instance.”

Her racing heart careened to a sudden stop, slamming into her ribs. She forced words past the band choking her throat. They came out in a stuttered mess. “M-my brother?”

“Yes.” Something in his eyes had changed. Hardened. “What was his name again?”

“Oh. His name?” She busied her hands with folding the skirt, shoving it into the wicker basket at her feet. She needed time to think. A near impossible task when he continued to stare at her with those eyes and ask questions she had no answers to.

“You remember your brother’s name, don’t you?” His voice held an unexpected edge.

She laughed. A high-pitched trill that made her cringe. “Of course I do!” She stood, hugging the sewing basket to her, as if it could shield her from what was happening.

Connor smiled, but it wasn’t like before. This one didn’t crinkle the corner of his eyes, didn’t make them dance or sparkle. “Then what is it?”

Trepidation trampled like a thousand little footprints. Katherine turned on wooden legs and walked to the table at the back of the room, setting the basket down. Through the bay window in front of her, she could see the shadowed outline of the bluff beneath a blanket of stars. She closed her eyes and made a hasty wish on one of them to give her an answer. But the stars weren’t granting wishes that night.

“Kate?”

She straightened and turned. Connor had moved behind her while she wasted time on wishes. Mere inches separated them. His nearness rang through her, teasing her senses to life. The scent of leather and outdoors clung to his skin, his clothing. This close, she could see the first hints of stubble shadowing his chin.

His body blocked hers, kept her rooted to the spot.

She gripped the table. “Why are you asking me all these questions? What does it matter about my brother?”

Connor’s eyes bored into hers until she thought she would lose her mind and her will. Roughened fingertips grazed the line of her jaw. Blood rushed to her ears, pounded inside her skull. She knew she should stop him, but the idea of letting go of the table seemed foolhardy. It was the only thing holding her up.

“What’s your brother’s name?”

She closed her eyes and pulled out the first name she could think of. “Patrick.”

“Gerald.”

Breathing became difficult. “What?”

“Your brother’s name is Gerald.”

Katherine swallowed. Helpless, lost. “It is?”

Connor nodded and dropped his gaze to her mouth. The pad of his thumb brushed along her lower lip, making her ache for more.

“And your mother.” One golden eyebrow arched slowly upward. “Guess what her name is?”

A chill swept over her at the same time heat pooled in her belly. “I—I—”

“Maureen,” he supplied when she didn’t answer. “Why don’t you tell me your full name?”

God help her. “H-Hannah Kathleen Stock—”

A curt shake of his head cut her off. “Elizabeth. Hannah
Elizabeth.
”

His words, his controlled anger, were an icy deluge crashing against her. She couldn’t stop the trembling of her hands. Her fingers dug into the table and she squeezed with all her might.

Connor’s gaze probed hers, demanding answers. “Who are you?”

She swallowed and his hand slid down to rest against her neck. She couldn’t speak; she could only stand there, held captive by eyes that peered into her, through her, searching for answers she couldn’t give.

Finally, she broke their hold and looked away. When she answered, the words rang hollow in her ears. “I told you who I am.”

His knuckles brushed against the soft skin of her throat, building the ache deep inside of her. Oh, how she longed to lean into him, rest her cheek against his chest and let him shoulder her burden for even just a few moments. How could the one man who held the key to her destruction make her feel so safe?

“I know what you told me.” He lowered his voice, let it wrap around her, cocooning them from the outside world. “Now why don’t you tell me the truth?”

“I…I…” The words died on her tongue. She couldn’t tell him. Better he believe her a liar than know she was a Slade.

“I know you’re not Hannah Elizabeth Stockdale. Do you know how I know that?”

She shook her head. She hadn’t even begun to consider where he’d come into the information. It hardly mattered. Her lies had caught up with her.

His hand dropped away and he lifted her arm, working the button at the cuff. He pushed the sleeve up to her elbow, ignoring her sputtered protests. His fingers seared a path where they slid over the tender skin of her wrist, making her pulse throb.

“I know that because Hannah Stockdale has scars covering her arms.”

“I told you,” she said, tugging at her arm with little success. “They healed.”

He shook his head. “And on her legs.” He grabbed her waist without warning and hoisted her onto the table. “Shall we check to see if those ones have healed too?”

“No!”

He didn’t listen. He grabbed the edge of her skirt. Katherine swatted at his hands and tried to push the skirt and petticoats back down. She kicked out at him, anything to pry his grip loose. His swift intake of breath hissed in her ear when her boot connected with his knee. But her victory was short-lived. He grasped her wrists, insinuating himself between her knees. She struggled. The skirt rode up of its own accord, her legs left dangling helplessly over the edge of the table.

“Leave me alone! You’ve no right! Please…please don’t do this.”

Her words reached him where her struggles had not. He stopped and pressed his forehead against hers. Her wrists were pressed tightly against his chest where he still held them.

A muscle jumped beneath his ear. “Tell me who you are.”

Her heart broke into jagged fragments and pierced her chest. “My name is Kate,” she whispered.

“What’s your last name?”

She scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. “Does it matter? Will it change anything?” But she knew it would. It would change everything.

He lifted his head. Confusion clouded his eyes, darkening them.

She forged ahead before he could answer. “I’m still the same person I was yesterday. Can’t you just let me be Kate Stockdale? My past is…I just…” She tried to find the right words but they didn’t exist. “Please, Connor, just let it be. I’m not hurting anyone. Let me stay and help Jenny. Just until I can repay the Hewitts. Then I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again.”

For a moment, he looked lost, torn. Katherine held her breath.

“Dammit, Kate.” The curse tore through her. “Damn everything that brought you here and made me think—”

“Think what?”

He shook his head. “That I could believe in you. That I could—” He stopped but the unspoken words lingered in the air, hers for the taking. She ignored them. She didn’t deserve them.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“No. Don’t.”

He stared at her, long and hard. The air between them grew tense and in that moment Katherine saw everything she could have, everything that might have been hers if her life had turned out different.

And then he showed her even more.

Connor’s mouth descended on hers. There was a sense of urgency in his kiss, as if he hated that he was doing it, but couldn’t stop himself. And she was of no help in that quarter as his hands cupped her face, gentle where the kiss wasn’t. Did he think he could draw the truth out of her? Her knees grew weak. She wanted to resist, pull away. Instead her fingers wound into the soft fabric of his shirt to pull him closer.

One arm slid around her back and pulled her off the table, tight against him. Hard thighs pressed against hers, inflaming the desire that had kindled to a slow burn since the first day she laid eyes on him. She gave in to the sensation, pushed aside the warnings going off in her head. When his tongue plundered her mouth, she met him thrust for thrust. Passion overwhelmed her, crashing against her like a cresting wave and dragging her beneath its undertow. She couldn’t get enough, not of his taste, his hands, his body melded to hers.