Sheena was abruptly conscious of her tousled hair and the revealing way her blouse was clinging to her still moist skin. “I’m not sunbathing,” she protested. “I was just sitting here thinking.”
He shook his head reprovingly, then took his leg from the pommel and slid from the saddle. “Meanwhile, Rand has been going crazy looking for you.” He tossed the reins over the horse’s head. “He was planning on calling out all the hands from Crescent Creek if we hadn’t found you by sundown.” He took a rifle from the holster on the saddle and fired three shots in rapid succession before replacing it in the holster.
“What was that all about?” Sheena asked, her dark eyes wide with surprise.
“Just a signal to let Rand know where we are.” Nick strolled over to her and sat down beside her on the grass. He crossed his legs Indian fashion. “Now we wait. He should be here soon. He’s searching the south quadrant.”
“I’m sorry to have put you to this unnecessary trouble,” Sheena said politely. “I was in no danger.”
O’Brien gave her a long, skeptical look. “I think that we both know that Rand wasn’t worried about any physical danger to you. He thought you had run away from him.”
Sheena felt the swift color rise to her cheeks. “I guess that means that he told you about his little kidnapping scheme,” she said, not looking at him. “I suppose you won’t help me, either. I’ve never known anyone to have so many willing accomplices.”
“That should tell you something about the man,” he said quietly. “Is it likely that he could inspire such loyalty if he wasn’t a damn decent human being?”
“Oh, I just don’t know,” Sheena said despairingly, running her hand through her hair. “I don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore, or who to trust.”
“That’s easy,” O’Brien said, his gaze fixed gravely on her face. “Trust Rand, you’ll never regret it.”
“You’re very loyal to him. Rand said you would be.”
“We’ve been through a few tough spots together. When the chips are down, you get to know who your friends are.” He plucked a long strand of grass and chewed it thoughtfully. “I guess Rand told you that I’m something of a freak,” he said slowly. There was something lost and lonely in the depths of his eyes.
Sheena felt a surge of sympathy that was almost maternal. “He told me that you were something of a genius,” she said gently.
His lips curved cynically. “One term is as good as another. I was having some pretty heavy adjustment problems when Rand appeared on the scene two years ago. He helped me get my head together, and I owe him a hell of a debt.”
“I can see how you would feel that way,” Sheena said quietly. “I believe in the payment of debts, too. That’s one of the problems.”
“So I understand,” O’Brien said. “But if Rand has an objection, you can be damn sure it’s a valid one. Like I said, trust him, Sheena.”
“You’re wasting your breath, Nick,” Challon said harshly. “The lady prefers her comfortable little cocoon. She’s not about to try thinking for herself.”
O’Brien and Sheena both turned startled eyes to the grim figure on the chestnut mare. In beige suede pants and tan-and-cream-checked shirt, Rand looked a study in browns against the shiny coat of the horse. They had been so engrossed in their conversation, they had not been aware of Rand’s approach.
Challon dismounted swiftly, flipped the reins over the horse’s head, and strode toward them, bitterness and determination in every line of his powerful body. His lion eyes were flickering with anger as he looked down at them. Sheena instinctively made an involuntary movement of withdrawal, and Rand’s lips tightened to a hard line as he noticed the gesture.
“You can go back to the ranch now, Nick,” he said tersely. “I’ll take over from here.”
O’Brien stood up slowly, his eyes on Challon’s stony face. “Simmer down, Rand,” he said quietly. “She’s all mixed up. She didn’t mean to worry you.”
“Didn’t she?” Rand asked. “Then Sheena seems to have an amazing talent for putting me through hell. Stay out of it, Nick.”
O’Brien shrugged. “Whatever you say. It’s your affair.” He sauntered over to the black stallion and mounted lithely.
“Exactly,” Challon said grimly, glancing down at Sheena. “I’m glad you understand that.”
“I’ll be at Crescent Creek if you need me,” Nick said, then wheeled the black. He looked over his shoulder, a glint of mischief shimmering in his eyes. “I believe I just may stick around for a while. Things are beginning to get interesting.” Then with a mocking wave of his hand, he kicked the stallion into a gallop.
Eight
Challon turned immediately back to Sheena and looked down at her with profound displeasure. “I see that you’ve managed to catch Nick in the snare of those big black eyes,” he snapped irritably. “I’ve never seen him so protective where a woman’s concerned.”
Sheena had been sitting back on her heels in a half kneeling position, but now she started to struggle to her feet. “He’s a very good friend to you,” she commented quietly. “And I have no need of his protection. I can take care of myself.”
Rand pushed her back down in her former position. “Sit down,” he ordered tersely. “I have a few words to say to you.” The last words were ominously grim, as was the expression on his face. He dropped down on his knees facing her and took her shoulders in a grip of pure iron. “If you ever do this to me again, I won’t be responsible for my actions,” he said tightly. “I won’t be put through this hell again. Do you understand me, Sheena?”
She nodded, her mouth pouting sulkily. “I’m sure you would enjoy punishing me very much,” she said, her dark eyes flashing. “It’s not my fault you chose to go tearing around the countryside looking for me. The hell was of your own making, Rand Challon.”
“I’m well aware of that. I started constructing it some five years ago when I first saw you, Sheena, and I’ve accepted a certain amount of mental harassment as going with the territory. But I’ll be damned if I’ll let you do this to me. If you don’t give me your promise not to try to run away again, I’ll lock you up.”
She tried futilely to shrug off his hold. “I wasn’t trying to run away,” she said defiantly. “I would have made a much better job of it if I had been. I’m not stupid, Rand.”
“No, you’re very bright,” he agreed. “That doesn’t preclude you being the most muddleheaded, the most stubborn, the most—”
“You don’t have to go on,” she interrupted furiously. “I think I understand what you think of me now. Well, you don’t have to continue our association if I’m such a trial to you. You can always let me go.”
He gave her an exasperated shake. “You know better than that. You belong to me,” he said forcefully.
“I don’t belong to anyone,” she said, her voice rising with anger. “This isn’t the Dark Ages, and I’m certainly not a humble serf awaiting your pleasure. You may have all the money in the world, but you can’t buy me, Rand!”
“There are other ways of buying people than with money, Sheena,” Challon retorted. “I’ve invested five years and considerable emotional wear and tear on you. When you can say the same, I’ll grant that you own a considerable piece of me, too.”
“You can feel quite safe in that offer,” Sheena said bitterly. “You know as well as I that what we have is fleeting at best. You’ve made that quite clear.”
Rand cursed under his breath. “That’s the most idiotic thing you’ve ever said to me. You’re the one who is afraid of committing yourself. I asked you to marry me, didn’t I?”
“A temporary aberration, no doubt,” she snapped. “A fitting conclusion to your little fantasy about me. However, if it comes down to brass tacks, you’re very much the realist, aren’t you, Rand?”
“I suppose you know what you’re talking about, but I certainly don’t. What more do you want from me, for God’s sake!”
“I don’t want anything from you!”
Sheena cried, her dark eyes bright with rage and unhappiness. “Why don’t you just go away and let me alone?”
“Because I’m not about to let you get away with this crazy nonsense you’ve been giving me. Not without getting to the bottom of it. Now will you tell me why you’re so damn upset?”
Sheena’s lips tightened stubbornly, her dark eyes mutinous.
Rand’s eyes narrowed to catlike slits. “I suppose I’ll have to work it out for myself,” he said slowly. “But it’s not going to make me any more pleased with you, Sheena. If you weren’t running away from me, why did you take off like that?”
Sheena moistened her lips nervously. She would have rather faced Rand’s anger than this formidable analytical ruthlessness. “I just wanted to get away and think for a little while,” she said evasively. “How was I to know you’d go haring all over the Rio Grand valley looking for me?”
“You knew,” he said slowly, searching her face keenly. “But I think you were too upset to care. Now I wonder what could have put you into such a tailspin?”
Sheena could almost hear the wheels go around behind the intentness of Rand’s expression, and she looked away suddenly, color flooding her cheeks. It was too much to expect that Rand would not note and correlate that revealing surge of color.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Rand said blankly. “It was the pills.”
Sheena stubbornly refused to answer, her gaze fastened on the top button of his shirt.
“I could murder you,” he grated, his hands tightening on her shoulders. “Do you mean that I’ve wasted an entire afternoon searching to hell and gone because of those damn pills? Did it ever occur to you to discuss the issue with me instead of running off like a confused child?”
“There wasn’t anything to discuss,” she said tartly. “Your actions were fairly self-explanatory. Was that why Dr. Knowleton was so thorough in his examination?”
Challon shook his head. “He thought you were already pregnant. When you were ill yesterday, he thought quite probably that it was morning sickness. He knew how wild I was about you. He was practically flabbergasted when he discovered you weren’t my mistress already.”
“So he gave you the pills,” Sheena said acidly. “You’re surrounded by such considerate friends, Rand. They’re all trying to protect you from the penalties of your folly.”
“I asked him for the pills, damn it!” he said harshly. “I had the idiotic idea that you were the one who needed the protection. It’s your body that will bear our child, Sheena. I have no right to take that freedom of choice from you.” His lips curved cynically. “Hell, it may be too late already, but I thought I’d be noble and give you the means to protect yourself if you chose to accept it.” A frown darkened his face, and his eyes turned flinty. “You little fool, don’t you realize how tempting it would be for me to just let nature take its course? You’d find it pretty well impossible to leave me if you were pregnant. It would simplify the entire situation. But I didn’t want you that way, damn it. I wanted you to come to me freely without that particular type of physical blackmail.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand,” Sheena said huskily, her dark eyes wide and stricken. “I just thought you didn’t want the responsibility.”
Challon’s expression lost none of its hardness. “You never do understand, and you never give me the benefit of a doubt.” He grinned mirthlessly. “Good Lord, I even thought you’d be grateful to me! How stupid can I get?”
Sheena felt the tears brim helplessly as she gazed at the bitterness that was carved into Challon’s expression. For a moment, there was a flicker in the depths of Rand’s golden eyes that reflected an odd hurt. Then there was nothing but a hard ruthlessness.
He released her abruptly and swiftly rose to his feet. “Well, it seems that I was wrong,” he said harshly. “If you think I’m afraid to make that particular commitment, there’s only one way to prove you wrong.” Rapidly he began unbuttoning his shirt. He stripped it off and threw it carelessly to the ground, his bronze, muscular shoulders shimmering like copper in the late afternoon sunlight. “And I’m fully prepared to start right now!”
“What are you going to do?” Sheena cried, startled, as he swooped down and scooped her up in his arms. Her heart was beating rapidly with fear and a strange excitement as she clung to Rand’s naked shoulders. He strode rapidly toward the pond. “Rand! Let me down!”
“Not before I’ve demonstrated my willingness to meet the test,” he said mockingly. “I wouldn’t think of disappointing you.”
“I said I was sorry,” Sheena protested frantically. Rand was striding directly toward the pond, and she had a ghastly feeling that he was going to toss her in.
“I’m not. I intend to enjoy every minute of it.”
They were both suddenly enveloped in a cloud of lacy fronds as Rand ducked beneath the branches of a huge weeping willow tree clinging to the bank of the pond. Then they were clear of the clinging leaves and surrounded with an almost twilight dimness. Rand put her down on a cushioned softness, which she vaguely identified as a bed of moss, and knelt beside her, his hands at the buttons of her blouse.
Sheena looked around her in incredulous bewilderment. The trailing fronds of the weeping willows formed a delicate, lacy curtain all around them, sealing them away from the world as completely as the closing of a bedroom door. The sun filtered through the branches intermittently, lighting the verdant dimness and painting dancing, shadowy patterns on the ground.
“It’s like a world all its own,” she said wonderingly. “I never dreamed this was here.”
“When I was a kid, I used to run over to Green Willow Pond every chance I got. Laura never could see the attraction when Crescent Creek had so much property for me to roam. I never told her it was like having my own private sanctuary beneath every willow surrounding the pond. It was every kid’s dream.”
“So when you grew up, you bought the property,” Sheena said softly, her eyes on his lean, hard face as she tried to imagine the wild, mischievous boy who had come here so many years before.
“I bought the property because it was a good investment,” he said, looking up to meet her eyes. “Sentiment didn’t enter into the picture.”
“Didn’t it?” Sheena asked gently, her dark eyes tender. “I think perhaps it did.”
Challon shrugged. “Think what you like. You’ll find I’m not known for being a romantic. I leave that to fey little Irish folksingers.”
Sheena smothered a smile. What could be more impossibly romantic than his half a decade obsession with the mystique of one Sheena Reardon?
Challon had undone the last button of her shirt and was about to push the material from her shoulders when she put a hand on his hands to stop him. “Why are you doing this, Rand?” she asked quietly.
His lips twisted mockingly as he met her eyes. “We’re going to make a baby, Sheena,” he said coolly. “Or at least we’re going to give it a damn good try. Will that satisfy your suspicions of me?”
“I never said that I wanted to get pregnant,” Sheena said softly. “I know that I hurt you with my distrust of you, but this isn’t the way to punish me, Rand. You’ll only regret it later.”
“Probably,” he admitted, brushing her hands aside and slipping the shirt from her shoulders. “But it’s too late to think about that. I couldn’t stop now if I tried.”
For the first time Sheena noticed the slight tremble of Challon’s hands, and the trip-hammer pulse in his temple that belied the coolness of his manner. His eyes became warmly intent as they moved from her face to the full curve of her naked breasts. He drew a deep, unsteady breath as his hands reached out to gently cup her warm softness.
“Maybe I was just looking for an excuse,” he said hoarsely, leaning forward so that his lips were only a breath away. Each soft word resulted in a tiny kiss as he continued. “I’ve been wanting you so much all day, it’s like being in a fever. Perhaps I’m the one who’s the addict.”
Sheena was tremb
ling so much that she could barely hide the effect of his nearness, and her voice was choked and breathless. “You’re not angry anymore?”
Rand shook his head, each motion a brushing caress on her lips. “It would take a stronger man than I am to remain angry at a moment like this, dove. All I can think of is seeing you lying naked before me on this bed of moss. God, I want that!” His thumbs were gently stroking her nipples, and Sheena could feel her body responding, as much from the evocative effect of his words as his gentle manipulations.
She looked up at him, her eyes oddly grave. “I think I want that, too,” she said huskily. She swayed closer to his virile strength as if he were a magnet that controlled her very being. Perhaps he was, she thought dazedly, as she slid her arms around his waist and pressed her naked breasts to his hard, corded chest. He had only to touch her to start this throbbing ache in her loins.
A violent shudder shook him as he felt her nipples harden with eagerness as they brushed against his tawny, hair-roughened chest. “You’re sure?” he asked raggedly, pulling her closer to him. “I’ll try to protect you, but I can’t guarantee anything. I go crazy when I’m loving you.”
She nestled closer, pressing little kisses on the smooth, warm flesh of his shoulder. “I’m sure,” she said breathlessly, as his hands began tracing sensual patterns at the base of her spine. “You don’t have to protect me. I don’t care.”
“God, little dove, neither do I!” Rand covered her lips with a frantic hunger that she met with equal passion. His tongue invaded her with hot urgency, exploring and playing with her own until they were both shaking and breathless with need. His hands were working with odd clumsiness at the front fastening of her jeans, and she found that she was not much better as she unfastened his belt.
“I’ll do it, love,” he said taking her hands away from his waist. “I want this to last a long time, and your hands on me make me wild.” He quickly stripped her of her jeans and pushed her back on the bed of moss so that she was lying full length before him, her long gypsy curls framing her face and her tiny silken body arching with ardent eagerness, pleading for his caresses.
The Reluctant Lark Page 14
