by Amy Sandas
When he eased one finger inside her body, she stiffened. The sensation was so new. He took her mouth in another kiss as he withdrew only a little before easing back into the tight channel. The gliding friction and gentle pressure eased her initial tension. And when he pressed the heel his hand on the apex of her mound, providing a delicious immovable pressure against that tight bud, the sensations rushing through her twisted up to a fierce peak.
Her breath caught on a gasp as a fluttering started deep inside. It was as though something was releasing from her core even as the rest of her tightened and tensed. Another long stroke of his finger inside her and the feeling burst in a shuddering explosion of sensation that spread like a glittering wave. It was a pleasure so perfect it set her adrift from reality.
All she knew was that she clung to Malcolm with a mindless desperation, her fingers curled deep into the muscles of his arms. That she had lifted her hips to press hard against his hand. That her mouth was open and softly panting against the side of his throat.
Then it was easing away, with deep pulses and a heavy sigh. And she was left feeling weighted and soft. Her hands fell away from him even as she tried to curl deeper into his embrace.
He gently shifted his hand from between her legs to wrap his arm low around her back, holding her to him as his ragged breath slowed. Coming back to full awareness, she realized that he had taken her to that wondrous place alone. She tried to draw back, but he only drew her closer.
“Malcolm,” she murmured, pressing her lips to his shoulder. “Please let me… I want to…” She didn’t know how to express how badly she wanted to give him the same beautiful gift he had just given her.
The low rumble of a throaty groan was his only response. Then he shifted his hold, rolling onto his back until she was settled more comfortably beside him, her head resting on his chest. Softly, he trailed his fingers along her spine. The soothing sensations eased her into a drifting state of consciousness. She didn’t want to fall asleep, didn’t want to leave him even in that small way, not when she still felt so much.
The last thing she remembered was wishing they could stay like that always.
Thirty-One
Malcolm was dying.
He had to be.
With one foot firmly in hell.
If this was hell, he figured he could do worse than to spend eternity writhing with the pain of an unspent desire so hot and strong it threatened to break him. But it wasn’t his lustful state that tortured the most. It was the emotion pressing out from his chest: the panic, fear, and longing. He had no protection, no defense built up against that moment as she drifted into sleep and he could have sworn she murmured something that sounded like love.
His body throbbed and pulsed. His head felt thick and heavy as he struggled to form coherent thoughts. It proved to be impossible. He kept getting drawn in by the feel of Alex’s silken body against his, her soft breath on his skin, and the taste of her mouth still on his tongue.
But the thought of that word coming from her lips was more than he could take.
His arms tightened around her languid form, and he groaned. The sound was raw.
Keeping her pressed along his side, he closed his eyes against the aching throb in his shoulder. Her grip had gotten fierce in her passion. He hadn’t wanted to stop her then and did not fault her the lapse in awareness now. It had been so damned worth it.
He shifted and stretched, trying to ease the discomfort in his shoulder without disturbing the woman at his side.
They couldn’t stay here.
The cabin was too cozy, too intimate. The rest of the world was far away. It would be so easy to forget the vow he’d made eight years ago and make Alex his woman in every way.
And he was damned tempted.
Tempted by her ready smile and stubborn nature. Tempted by how she continually found ways to surprise him. He desired her and admired her, and could far too easily imagine a lifetime with her at his side.
But he would never forgive himself. Gavin deserved more from him.
So did she.
She may not be the fancy lady he’d first thought she was, but she was still worthy of a man with more going for him than a bounty hunter who’d been chasing vengeance for almost a decade ever would. A man tailed by violence.
Alex gave a little shiver and burrowed deeper against him. Her lips pressed to his chest for just a moment, and he held his breath, waiting to see if she was awake.
When she didn’t move again, Malcolm muttered a quick curse, and he pulled the blanket up to cover her. It was best that she stayed asleep. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to resist taking full possession of her if given another opportunity. He was amazed he’d held back in the first place. But something in him had fought to preserve that last vestige of her innocence even as he urged her body to sexual release.
His damned conscience, probably.
He’d never had a problem with taking a woman then leaving. It was the way of things for a man like him, who was never in a town long enough for more. But his prior companions had been experienced women who never expected promises of commitment.
Alex was different.
It the short time they’d been together, she’d managed to get to know him better than anyone else. And he’d gotten to know her.
She deserved love. The everlasting, forever kind of love. Not a few stolen nights with a man unable to imagine his own future. Knowing he couldn’t give that to her cut deeper than any knife and spread an ache through his chest a thousand times worse than the pain in his shoulder.
He had to protect her.
From himself.
The way she’d responded tonight with such innocent abandon and gasping wonder confirmed that she’d never taken a lover before. That alone should have had him sleeping across the room from her. Hell, he should be bedding down with the horses.
In addition to that, and despite all her skills and knowledge about living in the wilderness, her tales of trekking across the territories with her father, she was a lady down to her toes. If she gave him her body, she’d expect something in return. And she deserved far better than him.
It was a fact. He just didn’t like it very much.
Moving so slowly and carefully that he barely breathed, he eased from the bed. If she happened to wake, he’d never make it out of there. Thankfully, she didn’t stir as he leaned over to tuck the blankets back around her while resisting the urge to brush her hair back from her face. Then he stood and turned away.
Distance.
He needed distance.
* * *
Alexandra woke to the whispering rush of cold air across her bare shoulders. With a sleepy whimper, she tried to burrow into the warmth that had kept her so comfortable through the night.
But Malcolm was gone.
She opened her eyes with a start to note the hazy gray of morning filtering through the cabin. Rolling over, she found Malcolm fully dressed and crouched before the fire, adding wood to the low, glowing embers. Then he leaned forward to breathe life back into the hot coals until little flames licked up to feed on the fresh wood.
The sight of him sparked an immediate rush of tenderness inside her that flowed in harmony with her awakened sensual craving. She wanted to swing her feet to the floor and rush into his arms, clasp his head in her hands and press her mouth to his. Despite her nakedness, despite the twinge of shyness she experienced now that morning had chased away the quiet intimacy of night.
Once the fire was well fed, he stood and turned. His sharp gray eyes cut through the room to where she lay watching him from the bed. The hard lines of his rugged features were drawn into a forbidding expression, and his body was stiff and tense. He seemed unwilling to step away from the fire, as though he hated the thought of coming near her.
Then without a word, he strode to the door and stepped outside.
&n
bsp; A sick heaviness settled in Alexandra’s stomach. Something was not right. She would have expected a little awkwardness after last night, some shift in the way they interacted with each other. But she had not anticipated such coldness.
Anger flared.
He was going to revert to that old song and dance, was he? Aloof, angry, distant.
She thought they’d gotten past that. Even before the kisses, he’d at least smiled on occasion—he’d even teased her and tossed a few compliments her way. Yet, here was the gruff and prickly bounty hunter, back again.
Alexandra swung her feet to the floor and threw on the clothes she’d worn the day before with rushed and jerky movements. After securing her knife at her hip and tucking the dwindling chunk of soap into her pocket, she left the cabin.
By the angle of the sun, it appeared to be later in the morning than she’d expected—the comfort of Malcolm’s arms had kept her in bed far longer than she would have been otherwise. Keeping her chin firm and her gaze trained forward, she took long strides down the gently sloping hill to the creek before she turned to walk alongside it. She didn’t see Malcolm anywhere and didn’t bother to look for him.
Let him stew in whatever grouchy little pot he’d woken up in. She was going to the lake to wash her clothes and take a bath. A real, dunk-her-head-under-the-water, float-on-her-back-and-stare-at-the-sky bath. She didn’t care if Malcolm wondered where she was when he eventually returned to the cabin.
She knew how to take care of herself.
Though she understood her sudden decision to head out to the lake was in part a petulant attempt at proving to him that she didn’t need him, it was also a decision based on the very basic need to be alone.
After the way he’d touched her last night, and the way she’d slept so warm and content at his side, she had not expected to be greeted by such a distant demeanor this morning.
It hurt.
And it made her question herself…after finally feeling a return of her former confidence. That bothered her most.
She refused to allow it.
She had once been a carefree, impulsive girl who lived life as it came, confident and ready. A girl who did not shy away from unexpected adventure. Of course, what had happened between her and Malcolm the night before went a little bit beyond simple adventure.
They hadn’t made love, but she would have.
She was not ignorant of the potential consequences to such a decision. Not to mention she was still technically engaged, though that issue would be remedied as soon as she could get a letter sent back East.
A more honorable woman probably would have waited until all previous ties were cut before behaving in such a way. In truth, a more honorable woman would have held out for wedding vows.
But such concerns hadn’t even entered her mind last night. She had wanted him. That was all that had mattered.
She wanted him still.
Perhaps she was foolish for that, but at least she wasn’t lying to herself about it. It was more than she suspected she could say about Malcolm.
She snorted.
He wanted to keep his distance today? Pretend he wasn’t passionately involved in what had occurred between them? Then fine. That was his choice.
She didn’t want to doubt herself anymore.
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath of the forest air. Rich and earthy. The smell of nature grounded her. The rustle of leaves, the bubbling chatter of the rushing creek, the call of birds in the canopy overhead, and the pattern of light and shadow that littered the forest floor all helped to recall her to herself.
Stepping into the meadow that surrounded the lake, Alexandra took another deep, cleansing breath. The sun nearly topped the tree line and would likely soon burn away the hazy cloud cover that concealed the blue sky. She might just get lucky enough to be able to lie in the grass and dry under the sun after her bath.
After thoroughly scanning the area for any potential dangers and seeing none, she headed toward the side of the lake where the water lapped against the grassy shore, across from the rocky ledges where they had fished the day before.
She kicked off her boots and set them aside, then removed her stockings. After her encounter with the mountain lion, she was unwilling to have her knife out of reach for even a short time, so she tied it to her bare calf before wading into the water. The lake was cold, but not terribly so. Perfect for an invigorating swim.
She pulled the soap from her pocket and worked it into a good lather. Starting with her stockings, she washed her clothes one item at a time before laying them out on the grass to dry.
By the time she was stripped down to her one-piece undergarment, the sun had risen high enough in the sky to warm the little meadow. With another searching look around to ensure her solitude, she waded back into the water.
A breeze swept through the clearing at that moment, sending a shiver over the surface of her skin. Tipping her face to the sun, she laughed.
It felt good. The chill was a reminder that she was alive. Alive and free to exist in any way she chose. Here she stood, out in the open, wearing nothing but her underwear. Her feet were bare, and her hair was free down her back. And she had never felt better.
Sucking in a deep breath, she dove into the lake, swimming as far as she could beneath the surface before coming up for air. Surrounded in that cold nothing, she could forget.
Forget her confusion over Malcolm and his moods, not to mention her own stirred-up feelings. Forget any worry about her father and what he’d think of her return. Forget Boston and Peter. Forget the lady she’d tried to be for the last five years.
Here beneath the water, beneath the bright-blue August sky, she was Alexandra.
And that was enough.
Thirty-Two
After washing up from head to toe, soaping her hair and dunking to rinse the suds, she tossed the soap on shore and swam out to the center of the lake.
She was reluctant to leave the water. Some of her uncertainty returned as she thought of facing Malcolm again, but she reminded herself that she was not the one regretting anything.
With one last dive, she headed toward shore, staying beneath the surface of the water until her lungs started to burn. When she surfaced, it was to see Malcolm standing near her drying clothes. His hat was tipped forward to shadow his face as he watched her, and his expression—stern as always—was easy enough to read.
She considered staying in the water, not sure if she was prepared for whatever confrontation was ahead. But she was shivering enough by now that her teeth had started to chatter, and her skin felt like ice to the touch. As she continued toward the shore, she remembered that her underclothes were entirely transparent when wet. A flash of maidenly modesty claimed her before she shoved it aside. She’d been bared to him last night and had felt no concern. Why should today feel so different?
With a stubborn set to her jaw, she continued toward shallower water. She kept her spine straight and her gaze focused on her clothes as she drew her hair over her shoulder to wring the excess water from its length.
Though she didn’t look directly at Malcolm, she could feel him watching her, and her body warmed despite the cool morning air. She sensed his disapproval and his irritation. He thought her too bold, perhaps. Or too reckless.
Well, too bad.
As she reached the shore, she happened to sweep a glance in his direction and suddenly couldn’t take another step. She was instantly trapped by the predatory gleam in his sharp eyes.
He wanted her.
Fiercely.
She could feel his wanting in a wave rushing over her. There might have been a time when such intensity—such blatant desire—would have frightened her. But not now. Not with him. All she felt was an answering need in herself. Her belly twisted with longing, and her legs went weak.
But as she stared back at him, locked in
the silent track of his gaze, she realized something. She was more free to acknowledge her desire than he was. For some reason, he seemed determined to resist his attraction. He wanted her. But he didn’t want to want her.
That dawning realization sparked an undeniable urge to test his limits.
With a tilt of her head, she gave him a tight smile. “Did you need something from me, Kincaid?”
His features tensed. He kept his focus strictly on her face as he replied, “It’s not safe for you to be this far from the cabin alone.”
Alexandra sighed and strode to where her clothes were laid out in the grass. “I can take care of myself,” she assured him.
“This isn’t about being able to trap rabbits or forage for plants,” he said in a gruff and angry tone. “Anyone could have come up on you while you were frolicking in the water.”
She lifted her brow at the word frolicking, but did not dispute it. She might have frolicked a bit. “Aren’t you the one who said there isn’t likely to be another person for miles?”
“You can never be sure when someone might happen past. It’s damn foolish not to realize that.”
That sparked her temper. It didn’t matter that she understood his fears. She’d been well aware of the risk she was taking. But it had been worth it. She’d needed to feel surrounded by the wilderness. She’d needed the time to herself.
Apparently, he disagreed.
She tossed him a dark look. “Some risks are mine to take.”
“This isn’t one of them.”
She turned away to swipe her pants up off the ground. “I just wanted a moment to myself.”
“You don’t understand how dangerous some men can be.”
She spun around at that. “You think I’ve never been subjected to the attentions of a man who thought he had a right to take what he wanted?” she asked in a biting tone as she stepped toward him, her pants fisted in one hand.
