Wanted: Fevered or Alive

by Long, Heather

  He’d spotted the Kanes arrival the night before. Satisfied, Jason let the man go as Cody’s hands closed on his head. The twinkling light of the man’s mind vanished. “It’s done,” he told Sam and his brother’s frown deepened.

  “Jason—”

  “Not me,” he smiled. “Cody took care of it.” He relaxed. Masterson and Blade had been dealt with and they had no one else with them. “Now, I can get married.”

  The wolf rejoined them moments later. If killing the other man troubled him, it didn’t show. He nodded to the brothers and Sam seemed to struggle with his response, but finally he nodded. “All right. Let’s get you two married.”

  “I’m sorry the world isn’t black and white,” Jason said quietly, understanding flickering through him.

  “Not your fault.” Sam clasped his shoulder. “It’s never been your fault.” Locking gazes with Sam, Jason dared to listen to his thoughts. The sentiment echoed quietly across his orderly mind. Sam’s only regret was that he hadn’t known sooner, been able to do something about it. But that changes now. I do know. We’re in this together. All of us. As if he knew Jason were listening, he raised his brows. Understood, little brother?

  “Understood.” Jason felt chastised and supported in the same breath. It wasn’t a bad feeling. “If you’ll excuse me. I have a wife to take.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  Maybe not every wedding began with a death, but Olivia remained blissfully unaware and Jason shuttered his mind to outside intrusion. The only person he wanted to think about was her and they’d earned their time.

  Olivia, Home

  The ride back to the ranch seemed to pass swiftly or maybe Olivia floated through it. As on the trip to San Antonio, Jason drove the buckboard and she sat next to him. Laughter, not tension, filled the air and Scarlett’s eagerness to return home infected all of them. Oddly, it hadn’t occurred to her until her wedding day that Scarlett might be missing her children. Sam’s wife, however, had stated bluntly that she would see both of her little ones soon enough—she was there for Sam, his family and Olivia.

  The group split up as soon as they crossed the river and back onto Kane land. Instead of going directly to the house, Jason told her that Buck and Delilah had loaned them their cabin. Her face heated at the sensual tease in his statement. “No one will bother us, and it’s stocked with food so we don’t have to leave. We’ll have at least the next week to ourselves.”

  “Oh?” A trembling sensation spread through her.

  He paused and she could almost feel the weight of his gaze on her face. “Or we can go to the house.”

  “No,” she tightened her grip on his arm. “You surprised me and—and then it occurred to me that we’re alone. Really alone.” He’d been different since the Justice of the Peace pronounced them man and wife. The cool kiss he’d pressed to her lips had left her tingling from head to toe, but it was more than being wedded. Jason had been so wound up and tense on their way to San Antonio, he wasn’t anymore.

  His laughter came more easily and his voice always carried a trace of a smile. Something else had happened. Maybe with his brothers? She wanted to ask, but she didn’t want to remind him of the cool chains he’d kept himself locked in. If he’d shed them, she wanted them to stay gone.

  “You are certain?” He slowed the horses and the buckboard shuddered with the halt. “I mean it Olivia, we can go to the house. This is another unfamiliar place for you to have to learn the layout.” He blew out a breath. “Nothing has to happen if you don’t wish it.”

  His last statement rocked her. “I’ve wanted to be alone with you since I came home. I’ve wanted something to happen for far longer than that. I’m your wife. I want to be your wife in every sense of the word.”

  The hard tension in his arm eased and he chuckled. With a brush of his fingers down her cheek, he soothed the knot of worry forming in her middle. “Wife. I like the way that sounds.”

  Olivia grinned. “I prefer husband. You’re my husband.”

  “Yes I am.” He curved his hand to her nape and pulled her closer. The kiss he settled on her lips did more than make her tingle. Heart racing, she clung to him and when the wagon bounced forward a pace, breaking them apart, she laughed.

  “Are we there yet?”

  “Yes,” Jason chuckled and kissed her nose, before drawing her across the seat. “Come on. I’ll settle you on the porch and then tend the horses.”

  “That is a drawback to being alone,” she complained, but allowed him to lift her down. He set her walking stick in her hand and she stretched her aching legs on the walk to the porch. It was wide and wooden. Jason counted off the steps for her and then told her where the railing was, the porch chairs and then told her to explore the railing with her fingers.

  “You might be surprised—the Morning Star’s apparently like to carve.” He left her with a kiss and she heard the bridle gear jingle as he went to deal with the animals. Needing to pace out her limp, she followed his instructions to explore the railing and the wooden posts. Carvings were etched into each one. The shapes fascinated her.

  She found a wolf’s head and what seemed like a feather. In another she found symbols unlike anything she’d ever experienced. She was halfway up another post when she heard Jason’s boot on the step. “This is amazing,” she told him. “What is this one, I can’t tell?”

  Cool warmth blanketed her as he pressed close. “It looks like a language. I’ll assume it must say Mountain or maybe it’s how Quanto is written in their language.”

  “The Fevered have their own language?” That surprised and intrigued her. She liked words, she liked the different languages and accents she’d heard in Boston.

  “He is a native of this land, an Indian Shaman,” Jason shadowed her steps as she continued to explore. “I would expect he has a language he shared with his children.”

  “Scarlett doesn’t sound very Indian. Nor does Cody, but then I’ve never spoken to any Indians that I know of.”

  “You’ve spoken to Buck.” Amusement deepened his voice and she grinned. She loved it when the chill of his words melted away.

  “He’s an Indian?” The idea cheered her. “Do you think he would teach me the language?”

  “I’m sure he can be persuaded,” he still sounded like he was laughing at her. “Should I go and find him for you right now?”

  Turning away from the railing, she planted her hands on Jason’s chest. Sometimes she forgot he was so much taller than she, but she rose up on her tip toes. “If I said yes, you’d do it, wouldn’t you?”

  “I’d do anything for you,” he admitted and her heart twisted at his candor. “Admittedly, I wouldn’t like to see him right now, if it is all the same to you.”

  His heart beat steadily beneath her fingertips and she dared to be bold. “Anything?”

  “What do you want?”

  “I need your help.” The trembling that assaulted her on the buckboard returned with a vengeance and she tightened her grip on his shirt. “Because I want you.”

  Saying nothing, he slid his arms around her and pulled her close even as his mouth slanted across hers. A wealth of sensation tumbled through her and her shaking increased. She released a breathy moan and Jason broke the kiss. “You’re shaking.”

  “I’m scared,” she told him.

  “Of what?” No mirth lightened the words and he cradled her.

  “I don’t want to disappoint you,” she admitted. “I want it to be perfect and I don’t know how to show you.” This was terrible, where had her confidence gone? She’d been ready to march across unknown territory to confront him. She’d handled having wolves and powers and special beings in her life and she couldn’t calm the quaking shivering through her at the idea of touching him.

  “Shh,” he whispered and brushed a kiss to her forehead. “We’re going to take everything as it comes. One step at a time. Everything you do will be perfect. Because you’re perfect. Do you trust me?”

  “Yes.” No hesit
ation marked her response.

  “Take my hands.”

  Obeying, she let him lead her inside. The sound of the door closing and the lock tumbling into place reminded her they were alone. Some of her nervousness evaporated. Jason always knew what to do. He guided her across the room and into another, a faint scent of crisp herbs teased her nostrils, but she focused her attention on Jason and listened. His breathing grew rapid. The force of his reaction eased her further. He tugged off her bonnet and one by one, pulled the pins out of her hair.

  “You like to do that.” She laughed and then sighed as he stroked his hand through her hair. The gentle scrape of his fingertips against her scalp provoked dueling reactions, tension and relaxation.

  “I like your hair, it’s beautiful and thick and soft. You have all these curls.” He wrapped a lock of hair around his finger and tugged gently. “I like the way it feels against my skin.”

  Curious, she stretched her hands up to his face and traced the outline of his features to his forehead. The glide of his hair sent goosebumps racing over her arms and her stomach tightened. Repeating his stroking motion, she raked her nails lightly against his scalp and he bent, dipping his head to grant her access.

  “Is your hair dark?” She’d never thought to ask him. Hers was. A deep ebony, she’d been told, the color of night.

  “It’s darker than my brothers,” Jason told her. “Not as dark as yours.” He tugged her hair again and brushed his mouth to hers. She opened to the sweet invasion of his tongue and clung to him. The tightness in her body turned almost unbearable as he nibbled a kiss to her lower lip and then sucked on it lightly. “You have no idea how beautiful you are.”

  “I believe you.” She mimicked his movement and nipped at his lip. “May I… touch you?”

  “Of course.” He sounded bemused, and she traced his features again, taking her time to feel every inch of his face. His jaw was squared, hard planes and angled down to his chin. A hint of stubble bit at her palms when she cupped his face and his mouth stretched into a smile as she traced the line of his lips.

  “You have a beautiful mouth,” she whispered. But she wasn’t done, and when he made no move to stop her she wandered her touch to his throat and then to his chest. His shirt was in the way, but she found the buttons easy to free. He held still as she got the shirt open and when she spread her fingers against his flesh, a thrill raced over her. He was both hot and cool, and hard. A sprinkling of crisp hairs teased her and she stroked his chest, delighting in the way they brushed her skin.

  Puckered skin came together over his breastbone and she paused, exploring its length. Another one lay just below it, though it was shorter in length and thicker in texture. “What happened to you?”

  “A fight, a long time ago.” He caressed her cheek. “It’s nothing.”

  Wanting to believe him, but knowing him better than that. She urged his shirt off and he stripped it away obediently. She found a dozen more marks on him, dips in some places, and puckered skin in others. A whole length of grated skin, marred and pocked along his back. “Jason, these are not nothing…”

  “Yes they are. They are another life, and another time. Every one means I’m still here and I’m with you.”

  The words sent a shiver through her and she blinked at the tears trying to escape her eyes. “Someone hurt you.”

  “They can’t hurt me anymore. Stop, Olivia.” The brisk command demanded she listen to him and she spread her fingers against his abdomen. The muscles flexed beneath her touch, and he cupped her chin. “You don’t get to think about any of that. Not today. Tomorrow. The day after. If you want to know what they all are, I will tell you.”

  She believed him.

  “But not today. Today is about you and me, and here. No one else.”

  Swallowing, she turned her face into his hand and kissed his palm. “No one else.” Drawing away, she reached for the buttons on her vest, but Jason brushed her hands aside.

  “I’ll do that.”

  Her heart thudded faster, because he put action to words and cool air hit her heated flesh far swifter. Her face warmed as the shirt came free and then her camisole. He eased the clothes from her one piece at a time, the skirt coming last and he nudged her back a step until she sat on the edge of the bed. She heard and felt him kneel in front of her and then her boots were gone and she was completely bare.

  He went so still, she had to strain to even hear the sound of his breath. The air was so cold and she shivered.

  Uncertainty struck and she reached out a hand. He was right there, and he shuddered at her touch. “A moment, Olivia,” he pleaded. “I need a moment.”

  Did she displease him somehow? Fear sliced through her and she bit her lip. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine.” He gathered her hands and kissed them, first along the knuckles and then once each to her palms. “You are so beautiful, I—I can’t even put it in words.” But he didn’t have to, the dark need thrumming in his voice skated over her senses and the quiver of fear silenced.

  “Then show me,” she ordered.

  Jason, Olivia

  He could no more ignore her demand than he could stop himself from touching her. The room around them was frosting over. Ice crept out along the wood and the temperature in the room plummeted. Their breath fogged in the air and her nipples puckered into two hard points as goosebumps raced over her flesh. “I need a minute,” he’d told her. Needed to lock down the wild secondary ability leaving a frozen trail creeping up the walls and across the floor. The chill licked through his blood, and then her hand reached out to him and melted the frost.

  Capturing her hands in his, he kissed her knuckles and then her palms. Even in the half-gloom of the shuttered bedroom, he could easily trace the fragile lines of her face with his gaze and drank in the delicate beauty. His gifts would not hurt her because he would never hurt her.

  He had to believe that.

  “Something’s wrong,” she said softly, her perceptiveness undoing him.

  “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I’m told some pain is to be expected.” Sweet acceptance lit her face and fire chased the ice in his veins until his blood pounded so hard, he swore he could hear it. The frozen temperatures in the air abated and Jason exhaled.

  “You shouldn’t say things like that.” He placed her hands on his shoulders and glided his touch along her arms. Where he was scarred, she most definitely wasn’t. Her skin was pale, perfect and the dark rosettes of her nipples offered the only discoloration. No sun touched her shoulders as he’d seen in some southern women, and even her cheeks and arms were free of freckles or darkened skin.

  Her long dark curls fell down over her bare shoulders and the loops of her hair teased the top of her breasts. Curious, he dipped his gaze to the juncture between her thighs. To his absolute delight, dark curls waited for him there. He took his time absorbing every minute detail of her, wanting to memorize each curve.

  “Jason,” she admonished him, rich laughter coating her voice. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m looking at my wife,” he told her without an ounce of repentance. Then repeated for emphasis, “My wife.” Olivia was his. She’d chased him until he caught her—or perhaps it had been he who’d pursued her. It mattered little to him beyond the outcome, that she was his.

  She let her hands roam over his shoulders and down his chest again. It was a sensual torture that he discovered a dark craving for the moment she’d touched him earlier. Always before, her hugs, her hand on his arm—even her hand in his—had been a tease for this. Nothing in the world compared to the sensation of skin-to-skin.

  “Well, I want to ‘see’ my husband, too.” Demanding, and proprietary, she petted him and everywhere she touched him, heat followed. He wanted to return the favor, but he also knew he needed to take his time. The urge to simply take her clawed at him and he wouldn’t rush her or let need overwhelm him.

  Not yet.

  Not until she’d enjoyed hers
elf.

  He could do this, and he certainly understood the mechanics of how it all worked. Hell, he grew up on the ranch. A laugh worked its way loose and Olivia stilled, her head canting. “I’m sorry,” he answered her unspoken question. “I—I thought of something rather impolite about myself.”

  “Oh? What was that?” She eased forward on the bed and wrapped her arms around him, the action surprised and warmed him from the inside out. The move brought her breasts to his chest and he caught her, rising to stand as she nuzzled his mouth. “Because if you are being unkind to yourself, you’ll have to answer to me.”

  “Well, I shall endeavor to not displease my lady.” Focusing on the formal cadence, he eased her back onto the bed and pressed his thumb to her chin. When she opened her mouth, he took possession in a long, hard kiss that left his blood boiling and need surging through him. A glance at the walls showed the ice continued to fade.

  Satisfied he had a grip on it, he began to kiss a path down the column of her throat. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and her breath hitched. Pressure coiled in his spine, but he ignored all of it, savoring each sweet taste of her skin.

  Every touch brought him closer to his first goal. She tensed beneath him as he curved his hand under her breast, the feminine weight of it a delicious pressure. Shifting, he locked his gaze on her face as he stroked a thumb over the hardened point of her nipple. She bit back a sound, her white teeth pressing against her lower lip and she arched into his touch.

  She liked it. Settling in to tease her nipple, he stroked it again. Repeating the gesture to her other breast, she rewarded him with a low groan and she fisted his hair. Tempted beyond measure, he dipped his head to draw one plump tip between his lips and sensation exploded through him as she cried out. Determining the right amount of pressure, he continued to lave his tongue across the pebbled surface and divided his attention between her breasts until she shuddered and pushed at his shoulders.