Ruthless

by Lisa Jackson

  “Looking for you.” He said it bluntly, a simple statement of fact.

  Her heart nearly stopped. She swallowed hard. “But how’d you find me?” No one ever came to this little bend in the creek just outside of town.

  He pushed himself upright and edged down the overgrown embankment to the creek. “I followed you.”

  “You what?” She was flabbergasted. “But why?”

  “I didn’t want to risk calling or stopping by because I thought you might catch hell from your mother if I started hanging around.”

  “That’s always a possibility,” she admitted, feeling more than a little embarrassed. “It’s not you she doesn’t approve of, just your reputation.”

  “And I’ve spent so much time cultivating it,” he deadpanned.

  “Very funny,” she mocked, but laughed at his sarcasm. “My mother thinks I should hang out with a different crowd.”

  “Such as?”

  “I guess I could start with the McKees—though she’s a little concerned about the younger brother. He’s a wild one.”

  “Jenner’s the only decent one of the lot. You could go chasing after him, I suppose, but he’s hard to catch.” Brand’s blue eyes flared with amusement, and Dani, smothering a smile, drew back her leg, dragging her toes through the water, then kicked forward to send a spray of water to the bank, splashing him. “Hey!”

  She giggled and did it again.

  “Cut that out!” But he was grinning, revenge twinkling in his eyes as water dripped from his face, down his neck and T-shirt. “You’re asking for it,” he warned.

  “For what?” Playfully she angled her chin up at him.

  “Trouble,” he said, climbing onto the log.

  She scrambled to her feet. “I’m not afraid of a little trouble,” she said, cocking a brow in silent challenge, though she was braced to run.

  “How about big trouble?”

  “Oh, I can handle that, too.” She knew she was baiting him but couldn’t help herself. He walked forward, without looking down, his boots not slipping a fraction. His eyes were intense, his thin lips turned into a crooked smile that caused her pulse to beat out of control. “Why were you looking for me?”

  “Good question.” He stopped just inches from her, and the sounds of this thicket near the creek, the slap of water over smooth stones, the drone of insects, the whisper of wind through the boughs overhead, seemed to mute until all she could hear was the pounding of her heart and her own shallow breathing.

  “I—I thought you were mad at me.”

  His eyebrows arched slightly. “Oh, I am,” he said.

  “You are?”

  “Furious. Can’t you tell?”

  Her throat turned to dust.

  “So why did you come here?”

  His eyes sparked. “Guess.”

  “To scare me?”

  “Nah.” A quick shake of his head and she felt her body tingle.

  “Punish me?”

  He hesitated. She caught her breath. If she didn’t trust him so much, she might have considered him menacing. Reaching forward, he slid work-roughened fingers under her jaw. “I don’t believe in punishment.” His face was so close to hers that she noticed how thick and black his eyelashes were. His gaze narrowed, centering on her lips. “Besides, you didn’t do anything wrong, did you?”

  She flushed from guilt or his heat, she didn’t know which. “I lied to my mother and—”

  “Because you wanted to see me.” His fingers touched the underside of her chin, and her knees threatened to give way.

  “Yes.”

  “Why did you want to be with me so badly?”

  “I wish I knew,” she whispered while his finger stroked her throat.

  “So do I.” He stared at her long and hard, as if he was measuring what he was about to do. Then he lowered his head and slanted his lips over hers.

  In one quick motion his arms surrounded her. He drew her close and kissed her with lips that were hot and hard and demanding. Dani’s eyes closed, her heart thundered, and places deep inside her started to melt. She sagged against him, opening her mouth to the warm, insistent pressure of his tongue.

  Lifting his head, he held her close, cradling her, holding her so that her forehead fitted against his chest. “I knew it would be like this with you.”

  She didn’t respond. She’d never felt like this before, never felt so completely undone, so empty inside, so wanting. Although she had a reputation as a party girl, deep down she thought she might be a prude. Oh, she liked kissing, found it pleasurable, but never like this, and she’d never let a boy so much as touch her breasts.

  One time after a date with Martin Olson, he’d kissed her in the car. His hands had found the hem of her sweater and his fingers had slipped underneath, grazing her abdomen before quickly clamping over her bra. He’d been breathing heavily, his hands sweaty and anxious as he’d pawed at her. She’d stiffened, trying to relax, but couldn’t. Some of her girlfriends had told her how they’d trembled with desire when their boyfriends touched them in private places, but all that Dani had felt with Martin had been sick revulsion.

  She’d tried to slip away but he’d become more insistent.

  “Oh, Dani, let me,” he’d pleaded into her open mouth as his hands tried to unhook her bra. “You’re so beautiful. I know they’re beautiful, too. So beautiful.” He’d licked his lips and kissed her sloppily, his entire body pressing urgently to hers as he tried, fumbling, to find her nipple beneath her cotton bra. “I just want to look at them, to touch them, to feel them in my mouth.”

  “No way!” She’d pulled away, reaching for the door handle of his old Ford.

  “But I love you.”

  “You do not.” Her fingers had encountered the cold metal.

  “Dani, don’t. Come on, what does it hurt—”

  She’d fought her way out of the sedan, slammed the car door shut and raced up the driveway, more scared than she’d ever been in her life. What had been wrong with her? She’d liked Martin; he was a decent guy and he honestly seemed to care about her. But his fascination with her breasts had turned her off. She’d squeezed back tears thinking she was frigid, unlike her friends, Alison and Terry, who couldn’t wait to “do it” with their boyfriends.

  Now, she knew differently. Brand kissed her again so soundly that she clung to him, her body limp. For the first time in her life, she understood how passion could rob a person of her senses, could make her blind and wanting, aching inside. She realized that she was normal in her desire to touch and explore, that, with Brandon, she wanted more.

  “Hell,” Brand whispered as he released her and shoved both hands through his hair. Without his support, she nearly toppled off the log, and he caught her arm, quickly drawing her close. His face was full of wonder, as if the lightning that had sizzled between them was new to him. “This could be dangerous.”

  “It already is.”

  He chuckled and she sighed happily, her breath spreading over his chest, her arms wrapped loosely around his waist. The lean, hard muscles felt good to her and it seemed as if she belonged here—forever in his embrace. But that was silly, wasn’t it? Brandon Scarlotti wasn’t a forever kind of guy.

  “Come on, Dani. We’d better get out of here before we do something we’ll both regret.”

  “And what would that be?” she asked saucily.

  “You wouldn’t want to know.”

  She smiled, because she already knew that, whether they planned it or not, it was only a matter of time before she kissed him again. Her throat dry as cotton, she realized that she might make love to him. But that was crazy—her fantasies were running away with her, her mind spinning in wild, new directions. What was she thinking? Blushing to the roots of her hair, she scurried off the log.

  Sandals dangling from the fingers of one hand, she walked barefoot across the field, the stubble of grass pricking the bottoms of her feet, grasshoppers flying ahead of them. Brand held her other hand firmly in his, as if he
expected her to bolt and run from him, until they reached the old, dilapidated gate with the rusted metal No Trespassing sign that they’d ignored. On the other side, parked on a packed-dirt road, was his motorcycle. He helped her over the gate, and as she landed on the far side, his hands slid up her waist and held tight to her ribs. “You’re something else,” he whispered.

  “Oh, yeah? Good or bad?” she teased.

  “Bad. Definitely bad, Miss Donahue.”

  “I’ve got news for you. So are you.”

  “Old news,” he said, his eyes searching hers as if looking for the key that he could use to unlock her secrets one by one.

  She licked her lips nervously and he groaned, then he drew her to him and kissed her hard, his lips seeming to sear into her skin, to brand her forever. Again she melted and a yearning, deep and dangerous, awakened in her. His fingers seemed to leave impressions on her skin.

  Quickly, muttering something about leaving while he still could, he let her go, slanted her an I-don’t-believe-this-is-happening-to-me look and strode to his bike. “See ya,” he said.

  “Yeah.” I hope so!

  His big motorcycle glinted in the sunlight as he took off, and her heart followed after him, riding on a blue cloud of exhaust.

  * * *

  Brand couldn’t quit thinking about her. During the day, at work, while he was helping out with the construction crew, she invaded his mind. He worked for Red Ingstrom, a burly man with muscular arms that looked nearly out of proportion to the rest of his body. “You remind me of myself when I was a kid,” Red had told him when he’d applied for the job of general construction apprentice. “Hell on wheels.” He’d moved a glob of tobacco from one side of his mouth to the other. “A guy gave me a break and I ended up okay—settled down and worked hard, raised two no-good sons and three daughters and I’ve made more than my share of money. You can have the job, long as I know that you’ll give me a hundred and fifty percent.”

  Brand had agreed and worked for Red ever since, learning the trade, listening and watching as Red’s company renovated old buildings as well as built new. Everything from houses to shopping malls. No job was too big or too small. “That’s the key,” Red had confided in him. “Do a good job for a decent price and make a little money at a time. Forget about the big score—like as not all you’ll end up doing is losing your shirt.”

  Red had treated him fairly, given him raises when he deserved them and lectured when Brand had fouled up. Red had even helped get him out of jail a time or two—at least Brand assumed that his unknown benefactor had been his boss, though Red steadfastly claimed that he hadn’t done anything. “You land in the big house, it’s your problem, believe me.” But Brand had never believed him. Who else would have had the time, money or inclination to get him off? Red Ingstrom was the closest thing to a father Brandon had ever known.

  And right now Red was mad. Smoke-breathing, vein-popping mad. “What the hell’s the matter with you?” Red demanded, his face flushed and sweaty. He swiped it with a scarlet-patterned handkerchief. “That makes twice today that you’ve misread the blueprints. The window’s on the south side of the house, for crying out loud.”

  “You’re right,” Brand said, feeling like a fool—a complete novice.

  “You’ve never screwed up like this since I hired you.” Red shoved his face close to Brand, though he had to angle his head upward. Sweat was visible in Red’s crew cut. “Got a problem I should know about?”

  “No problems.”

  Red snorted and slammed his hard hat back on his head. “Nothing to do with a woman, right?”

  “No way.”

  “Good. Just be careful, okay?”

  For the rest of the day, Red, whenever he was around, was double-checking Brand’s work, grunting in satisfaction when the job was done right. Brandon could have kicked himself. He’d always been professional on the job. No matter what else happened in his personal life, he was able to keep the two separate. Until now. Until Dani Donahue.

  For no reason he could name, that girl had him tied in knots. Not only during the day, but at night, alone, when he tried to sleep, her image would come to him. And though he was determined to will her away, she stayed in his mind, messing him up and making him so hard he ached. He dreamed of her. Naked and hot, writhing under him, screaming his name, he saw her in his mind’s eye and he’d wake up sweaty and tangled in his sheets, lust pounding in his temples and throbbing in his loins. He’d managed to see her a couple of times since he’d found her down by the creek. She’d always seemed glad to see him and flashed him a breathtaking smile before kissing him as he’d never been kissed in his life. Kisses that kept him begging for more.

  He was meeting her after work at the Kellogg farm outside of Rimrock. Old Cyrus was out of town for three weeks and Dani had agreed to exercise his horses. She’d asked Brand to join her, and though he had no affinity for long-legged beasts with minds of their own, he couldn’t wait to see her again.

  * * *

  Dani bit her lower lip and waited. She’d already run two of Kellogg’s horses, letting them stretch their legs. Now Bourbon, a tall dun gelding, and Kimo, a feisty white mare, were saddled and waiting, their tails switching and hides twitching against the ever-present flies. The reins of their bridles were looped over the top fence rail and the horses pulled, hoping to stretch the leather so that they could graze on a few dry blades of grass near the fence. She probably shouldn’t have asked Brandon to meet her here, but she’d wanted to see him so badly that she’d thrown caution to the wind. Sneaking around was getting to her, though. Every time she walked out of the house and didn’t tell Irene she was planning to meet Brand, she felt guilty and foolish

  On the other hand, her mother had no right to be so prejudiced against him. Several times, Dani had brought up his name, careful to include names of other kids, as well, and her mother had started on a tirade.

  “I don’t know why you pick such a sorry lot of kids to hang out with,” Irene had raged just yesterday. “Alison’s giving her parents fits, let me tell you. She’s so wrapped up in her boyfriend, there’s going to be trouble, you mark my words. And I’m surprised you even know that Scarlotti boy. Stay away from him, y’hear. That one’s nothing but trouble.”

  “He seems all right to me,” Dani had argued.

  “If you call being a juvenile delinquent all right. He’s always—and I mean always—getting into trouble with the law. Lordy! It’s amazing that he hasn’t been put in some kind of home for wayward boys.”

  “He helps his mother—”

  “Venitia,” Irene said, her lips curling into a deep scowl. “She’s the real problem. Had that kid out of wedlock and held her head upright, which I guess you can’t blame her for. She got herself mixed up with the wrong kind of guy, and that’s why I’m telling you to stay away from her son. He’s messed up—grew up without knowing his father—”

  “Like I did?”

  Irene stopped and just stared at Dani. “You at least knew of him, knew that he was a decent man, that we were married when you kids were conceived. Your father died, Dani. He didn’t take off because he didn’t want to be tied down with kids.”

  “That’s not Brandon’s fault.”

  “No, but let’s just say he’s always been wild. Venitia’s never had the strength or know-how to keep him in line. It’s a shame really, but none of our concern. You stay away from that boy, and believe me, you’ll save yourself a mountain of grief.”

  “I swear, Mom, he’s not as bad as everyone makes out,” Dani said defensively. Her mother might have been more concerned except that Dani had a reputation for picking the side of the underdog. Hard on the outside, Dani had a soft interior and she was a sucker for stray dogs and cats, lost kids or anyone who got a raw deal in life.

  Now she drummed her fingers on the split-rail fence and smiled when she heard his motorcycle. So he had come after all.

  He wheeled into the graveled area that served as a parking lot and clim
bed off his bike. Dressed in a T-shirt and sun-bleached jeans, his hair wild from the wind, he strode up to her with a look so intense Dani’s heart started knocking crazily.

  “I thought you might chicken out,” she teased, tossing her hair over one shoulder.

  “Me?” He eyed the horses and sighed. “To tell you the truth, I thought about it. Horses and I don’t get along all that well.”

  “Maybe it’s time to change all that.”

  She reached for the reins, but a strong hand covered hers. Before she could move, he drew her close to him and kissed her with a passion that trapped her breath in her lungs. The sunlit day seemed to spin around them before he lifted his head. Amusement flickered in his eyes.

  “Let’s get one thing straight,” he said, pressing her back against the fence rails so that his hips fitted snugly into the V of her legs, his hardness firm against her mound. Even through the denim of both their jeans, she could feel the throbbing down there, the pressure building, the lust that burned through the frail cloth. “I didn’t come here because of some mangy beasts.”

  “They’re not mangy,” she said, gasping. “They’re incredible. I feel about them the way you feel about your bike.”

  “My bike doesn’t kick or bite and the garage doesn’t have to be shoveled out all the time.”

  “By the end of the day, you’ll love riding,” she said, unwrapping the reins and trying to ignore the fact that she was tingling all over, that her skin was more alive than ever.

  “Don’t count on it.”

  “Sourpuss,” she muttered under her breath while she held the gate open for him.

  “Careful, lady,” he warned, one dark eyebrow arching as he surveyed the horses.

  “They’re docile. Really. This is Bourbon.” She handed Brand the reins. “I have a feeling you two are going to be fast friends.”