Untouched (7 page)

***

Jill got out of the shower and ran a towel over her hair before coming back out into the living area of the cabin.

Sam was sitting in front of her computer, his expression frozen.

“What?” she asked, holding a towel to her body.

“What is this?”

“What?”

“What the hell is this?” He stood up and pointed at her monitor, his dark brows drawn together.

She walked over to where he was standing and saw her email open to the one she’d received from Jake earlier. “Why were you reading my email?”

“I needed to check something online. I wasn’t snooping on purpose, but I didn’t think opening your laptop could be considered an invasion of privacy, since—and this makes me an ass—I thought we still shared some things.”

The sexiest woman in the office.

The words burned into her eyes from her position across the room. They seemed to shout in the small cabin.

“I read more of his emails to you. He says shit like that a lot. And you never told him not to.”

“I never encouraged him either. He just says things like that.”

“Are you sleeping with him?”

“No!” Her face burned, her heart beating fast, hands shaking. It was like watching a car accident about to happen, one she couldn’t stop. One she just had to brace herself for. Knowing that it wouldn’t end well. “I would never . . . how could you think I would do that?”

“I’m finding all of this in your inbox and you’re asking me how I could think that?”

“You’re in my inbox.”

“I didn’t get into it on purpose, but after I saw that? Hell yeah, I looked. I’m human, dammit, and some other man is calling my wife sexy.”

“Well, someone should!” she shouted, shaking, a tear sliding down her face as all of the words she’d been storing up inside her for the past couple of years came flooding out. “How long has it been since you even looked at me, Sam? Really looked? When you want sex, you come home and get into bed with the light off and start grabbing at me. You don’t tell me I’m beautiful. You don’t say you want me, or that you need me. You don’t even look. Lights off, every time. And do you know how long it’s been since we had sex?”

“How long?” he asked, his voice scratchy, brittle.

“Four months.” She looked down and tried to breathe. “Did you just not notice?”

“I’ve been gone a lot.”

“Yeah.”

“I noticed,” he said.

“But?” she asked.

“All that stuff you have to say to me? About how I don’t see you? About how I don’t want you? It’s not any better here. When I do get in bed with you, when I kiss you, you roll over and just let it happen. I got tired of feeling like you were you were just putting up with something.”

She knew there was a fair amount of truth to what he was saying. That she was guilty of that. But she couldn’t say it. There was too much hurt, and anger, and now shame, piled over it all. And she couldn’t dig her way out. Couldn’t get to the truth of it yet, not while all of that rested on top of her heart, crushing her.

“That didn’t happen overnight. That’s what happens when you know your husband doesn’t even care that it’s you in his bed anymore, as long as someone is there.”

“Bullshit,” he bit out. “Let me tell you something really honest here, Jill. I’ve had a hundred chances to cheat on you. I travel a lot with Quinn. The women who come onto him? They have friends. But you know what? I’ve never done it. Because it does matter who’s in my bed. It has to be you. It has to be my wife.”

“Why?” she asked, throat dry.

“Because I made vows to you.”

“Is that the only reason?”

“Honestly?” He looked away from her.

“Might as well be,” she said.

“For the past year or so, yeah.” He stood from his position at her computer, and she noticed how tired he looked. How sad. “But sometimes vows are all you have.”

“I’m sorry if I don’t find that flattering.”

“You should. Because it means I’m not saving any emails from anyone calling me sexy. It means I’m not entertaining any ideas of betraying you, no matter how I feel at a given moment.”

“But were you planning on ever fixing this, or were you just going to leave it like this?”

He shook his head. “Don’t put it on me. Were you planning on fixing it? Or were you just planning on taking compliments from him and hoping it got you through with me?”

“I didn’t have a plan. It’s not like I was hoarding the email. I just got it. And it . . . it surprised me this time, Sam. What it meant to hear that. Maybe I didn’t know how much I needed it.”

“Well, maybe you should have figured that out with me.”

“I didn’t do anything,” she said. “I got an email.”

“That meant something to you.”

“I’m being honest with you about it, Sam. That’s all I can do at this point. I can’t take back the fact that it flattered me to hear it. I can’t take back the fact that I feel like I’m starving for it. And that I’m not getting it from you.” She pressed harder on her towel, clinging to it more tightly. She already felt so naked, she felt like she needed more layers. She wanted to hide—from the vulnerable feelings, from Sam.

How had it gotten so bad that she wanted to hide from the man who had, at one time, known her better than anyone? How had they turned into this?

“I’m going to go get dressed.”

She turned and went into the bathroom, taking her pajamas with her, and when she reemerged, Sam was lying on the couch, his boots off, his arm flung over his eyes.

Not talking. Ignoring it. Because that’s what they both did. Ignore it, and it will go away.

She wondered if that was what they’d done with their love.

Chapter Six

Since Quinn’s decision to seduce Lark had been made, he found himself appreciating her beauty even more than he had before.

It was definitely not the kind of beauty he was used to being attracted to. Soft, natural. Yet it was so incredibly enticing, maybe because it was so different. And maybe because everything about his plan was wrong.

Yeah, maybe that was it. Maybe it appealed to his bad blood. Seemed like the kind of thing that might light his fire.

He gritted his teeth. Damn, he was a bastard. But then, he’d always known it. Why not embrace it?

He grinned and walked into the computer lab where Lark was bending over a table, her round, perfect ass on display for him. He wondered if she had any idea just how tempting she was. Or what a position like that made him think of.

Holding on to her hips while he . . .

Blood rushed south of his belt. Yeah, better to redirect his thoughts. He wasn’t going to approach her sporting a hard-on. He also had to be able to think, which was hard when the blood was drained out of your brain.

“Do I have to remind you to take a break again?”

Lark lifted her head and turned, one dark eyebrow raised. “You’re lucky I could see you in the monitor or I would be mad at you for sneaking up on me.”

“I wasn’t sneaking up on you.”

“You were advancing on me slowly without announcing your presence. Do you have a better definition for sneak?”

“I was just walking in without shoutin’ atcha.”

“Well, now you’re somehow making it sound extra polite. And I don’t think anything you do is extra polite.” She turned fully, bracing her hands on the table behind her, the motion pushing her breasts forward.

And he was powerless against the need to look. So he did. And he didn’t bother
sneaking
it.

She noticed too. Her cheeks started to turn pink, the blush starting at the center and spreading out, suffusing her face with color.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

She narrowed her eyes. “You know.”

“Do I?”

“Quinn . . .”

“You’ve been calling me by my first name like I’m a human and everything.”

“I know you’re a human. If you were anything else I wouldn’t hold you responsible for your actions.”

“I definitely have some animal instincts.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You’re as bad as my brother.”

That was not the comparison he wanted. Brotherly was not the image he was trying to portray. “I remind you of your brother?”

“Not especially. But look, I was basically raised by men, and Cade has no filter. I’ve heard more male observation on women and sex than anyone wants to hear from a family member, and I’m just . . . I don’t find any of it shocking anymore. Or titillating in the least.”

He looked down again. “Interesting choice of words.”

When he met her eyes again, they were glittering with anger. “Do you need a definition? Because it has nothing to do with what you’re thinking.”

“Sure it does. You have very titillating . . .”

“No,” she said. “No.” He smiled, and she did too, the corner of her lip tugging up reluctantly. “Stop. Don’t amuse me.”

“Why? Because then it’s hard for you to hate me?”

“No, I still do. And that makes it all confusing.”

“Join the club.” He was a liar. He wasn’t confused. He knew exactly what he was doing. He knew what coaxing smiles out of her would lead to. He was going to grow attachment between them, affection. At least from her end.

“What are you confused about?”

“Just how interesting I find the woman who hates me.” Again, not confusing and not a mystery. Seducing a woman who hated him? Taking all that fire into the bedroom? Oh, no, there was nothing confusing about the appeal of that.

“I don’t trust you.”

“Good. You shouldn’t.”

“And here you’ve been asking me to believe you didn’t do anything to Cade.”

“Yeah, I didn’t. But that doesn’t mean you should trust me.” There, it was a warning. An honest one. And if she didn’t listen, it wasn’t his fault.

“Don’t worry about that. I won’t.”

“Great. I hate for people to have expectations of me. Good ones, anyway, because then I might have to rise up and meet them.”

“That you really don’t have to worry about. Do you know what I expect from a snake, Quinn?”

“What?”

“I expect him to bite me. Maybe not right now, but someday.”

“And you think I’m a snake?”

“You said you had some animal in you. I’m calling it like I see it.”

“Good. Keep expecting me to bite you,” he said, flashing her a smile. “Might keep you safe.”

“Am I in danger?”

“It depends on what you consider danger.”

“I have mace in my purse, so I don’t consider you too dangerous.”

“I like that even better.”

“What?” she asked, eyes narrowed.

“The possibility of you biting me back.”

“Well . . . I don’t . . . I can’t. I would if I had to. Self-defense.”

“Oh, really?” He took a step toward her. “So, if I leaned in and bit you”—he lifted his hand and traced a line from her neck, just beneath her ear, down to the edge of her shirt collar, with his knuckle—“here. You would have to return the favor?” He kept the motion slow and, frankly, seductive, but the only question was: Which one of them was being seduced by it?

Because she was so soft. Like silk to the touch, and warm; warm enough that he thought if he pulled her against him, she might be able to transfer some of it to him. Not to his skin, but to somewhere deep inside of him. To places that were always cold.

“Retaliation,” she said, her voice thin, shaky. Affected. “Not returning favors. Defense of my . . . person.”

“I see.” He lowered his hand, and her frame folded in on an exhaled breath. “I’d hate to make you feel like you were threatened.” He took a step back and watched her face closely. No, he didn’t want her to feel threatened at all. He wanted her to feel that same pull he did.

“Good. Good thinking. I’m dangerous when cornered.”

“Oh, yeah?”

She nodded. “Yep. Like a honey badger.”

“Very scary.”

She smiled and it felt like a fist was squeezing his gut tight. “Yeah, yeah. I’m terrifying. At least, I am when I play
Zombie Watch
.”

“
Zombie Watch
, huh?”

“No matter how fast they shamble, I will find them, and I will destroy them. I’m the one-shot kid.”

“I’m assuming this is a computer game?”

“Yes. Do you live under a rock?”

“No. I live outside.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Outside is overrated.”

“This from a girl who lives on a ranch out in the boonies?”

“Yeah, well, it’s not my first choice of setting.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Really? Where else would you live?”

She lifted a shoulder and planted her hand on one of the chairs that was placed in front of the computer table. “I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter, because I don’t do very much. Out, I mean. I mean . . . my work is on the computer, and my hobby is on the computer, so . . .”

“Honey, you need to get out more.”

“Nope.”

“Honey badgers don’t belong inside,” he said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He was enjoying messing with her more than he’d imagined.

“Honey badger don’t care,” she said, planting her hand on her hip.

“In the great outdoors, I’m less likely to corner you. Less likely to get . . . bitten.”

“You seem very concerned with that whole subject.”

“It’s an interesting thought.”

“Yeah well, I probably won’t bite you, so don’t concern yourself too much with it.”

“It’s too late,” he said. “I’m concerned. Definitely pondering it.”

“Quinn,” she said, her tone filled with warning. “I’m going to have to report you to HR.”

“I’m pretty much HR around here, and I think I’m fine.”

“What do you think I need to do outside, then?”

“Do you ever ride anymore?”

She pursed her lips. “Not much. I used to when I was a kid. I used to ride with . . . I used to ride with my mom.”

“And you don’t anymore?”

“I told you, me and outside are not so much.”

“And I told you that you should try it. In fact, that’s part of your job today.”

“No. It’s not.”

“Yes, Lark, it is. You have to go on a ride with me.”

She frowned. “What about me says ‘great outdoors’ to you? I’m fish belly.” She held her arm out, which was not fish belly in his opinion, but a very enticing, rich cream. “I’ve never tested this theory but, based on my vampiric habits—nocturnal tendencies, nothing related to the consumption of blood—that too much sunlight will reduce me to a pile of ash.”

“I doubt it, Lark, I really do.”

“But you wouldn’t know until it was too late.”

“I’m not seriously concerned.”

She let out a long breath. “Do I really have to go riding with you?”

“Yes,” he said, decisive now. Because that’s what he needed. To get her outdoors. To get her alone. And she shouldn’t spend all her time alone inside playing zombie games either. Not that he really cared. “You need to get a better feel for the layout of the property. This way we can check out the trails. I’ll take you up the ridge that’s just through the trees.”

“Is that what the kids are calling it these days?”

“I could tell you what adults are calling it these days, but I’d just make you blush again.”

And she did. It was damn cute, and he wasn’t sure why. He’d never been into women who blushed. Hell, he’d never seen a woman who was capable of it. His sisters had never done anything so gauche; it would have offended their mother’s icy reserve. The one she pretended to have, anyway.

And the women he’d picked up on the circuit and while he was working ranches? Those women were more likely to make him blush than the reverse.

“Finish up what you’re doing in here, then meet me in the stables.”

Her lips parted, her teeth still firmly clenched together, the expression not one he could readily identify. “What? What’s that?”

“Smiling,” she said, not separating her teeth. “I’m so happy to be going out riding.”

“That is one fake-ass smile.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Great, I’ll see you and your false enthusiasm is about an hour.”

“Oh, I’ll be there. And so will the smile.”

“You don’t need to bring the smile.”

Her “grin” broadened. “Sure I do.”

“Fine. See you there.” He lifted his hand and slid his thumb along her lower lip. “And this too.”

That made her expression falter and sent a kick of adrenaline through his veins. Oh, yeah, this was going well. He ignored the lick of flame that went from his hand up his wrist. Because it didn’t matter what he felt. The only thing that mattered was how she felt about him.

And he could tell that he was reeling her in. Just like he planned.

***

Lark grumbled the whole way to the stable. She wasn’t thrilled to be meeting Quinn, mainly because she wasn’t thrilled to be in proximity with Quinn. Except her body seemed to be on a totally different wavelength than her brain, heart and jackass-o-meter. She knew she didn’t like him, she felt she didn’t like him and she sensed just why she shouldn’t like him.

Just that little uptick in her heart rate when he’d touched her lip had made her feel like she’d betrayed Cade. Made her feel almost as sick as she was excited. There was no excuse for something like that, no excuse for her to respond to him, not when she knew exactly what he was.

And yet.

And yet her heart was beating fast and her legs felt a little Jell-O-y. And her hands were shaking a bit. Almost like she was excited. Excited to be riding horses, which made her sneeze.

Yes. That was it. The horses. Sure, she lived on a ranch, but she never rode. So maybe she was excited to do a thing she was allergic to. It made more sense than being excited about seeing Quinn. That made no sense at all.

None. He was a jerk. He was Cade’s enemy. He filled out a pair of work jeans like no one’s business.

That last part was off topic. And irrelevant. Enemy. Jerk. That was all that mattered.

She kicked a rock and continued into the cool shade of the stable. Quinn was there already, with two horses tacked and ready to go.

She leaned against the door frame. “Hi.” She also treated him to her non-smile, as promised.

He looked at her and shot her a real smile. Wicked. The kind that made toes tingle. And other things too. The kind of smile she hadn’t known existed until she’d met Quinn Parker.

Devilish, sexy bastard!

“Ready to ride, darlin’?”

The invitation brought to mind riding of a completely different kind. The image that flashed through her mind’s eye was quick, and shockingly graphic. Shrouded in darkness and covers, Quinn’s hands on her hips, her legs draped over his hips as he whispered in her ear, low and husky . . .
Ready to ride, darlin’?

She blinked. Well. She’d never had a full-on, out of control sexual fantasy in the middle of the day. And definitely not in front of the guy she was having the fantasy about.

Inconvenient. Also shockingly detailed. She could feel it. His heat, his breath on her neck . . .

Oh, boy.

She looked back at Quinn, who was just staring at her like she might be crazy. What was wrong with her? He was evil. There could be no fantasizing about evil men.

“Pshhh. Yeah. I can ride. Let’s ride.” She cleared her throat, which wasn’t blocked at all, she discovered, just incredibly dry. And constricted. Lord, she felt like she’s swallowed a pin cushion. She made a weird wheezing sound like a cat working a hairball and tried to adjust her stance, putting her hand on her hip and stumbling slightly.

Wow. She sucked.

“All right then, cowgirl, saddle up.”

“Sure.”

She walked over to the horse and hesitated at his side. He was a big bay who looked half asleep. The kind of horse they use at Elk Haven stables when overweight business execs wanted to come play cowboy.

It was a little insulting. Except it wasn’t like she was the world’s most accomplished rider. She was hardly a rider at all. When her mother had been alive, they’d done a trail ride every Sunday after church.