by Lisa Jackson
“If you haven’t noticed,” she said, eyeing him suspiciously as he packed the thermos into a battle-scarred saddlebag, “it’s snowing outside.”
He shrugged. “A few little flakes. Nothing to worry about.”
“Nearly a blizzard,” she protested.
He buckled the saddlebag and extra blanket behind the saddle, then threw her a look over his shoulder. “Not in Montana, it isn’t. Come on, let’s get you better acquainted with Loco, here.”
“I should have my head examined,” she muttered under her breath but followed him outside. He rode Buckshot and she settled into the gray’s saddle, following the colt through a gate to a longer field that wound up through the foothills.
The wind was chill against her back, but there was an air of exhilaration about riding through the snow-crusted fields and across a small creek that was nearly frozen. Only a trickle of water still gurgled over ice-covered rocks.
Daegan sat tall in the saddle, reining in the nervous colt, keeping to a steady path that curved past a thicket of naked trees far from the house. Twisting upward through a narrow draw, the trail cut through the steep hills to level at a ridge overlooking the valley. Far below she saw her house, snow piling on the roof.
Daegan helped her off, spread a bedroll over the ground, and poured coffee into the metal cup of the thermos. “I discovered this place the second week I was here. Seems like a good spot to unwind.”
“And why would you need to ‘unwind’?” she asked, the warmth of her cup seeping through her gloves.
“Everyone does. Thought it might help you today.”
“And the day is yet young.” She laughed without much mirth. “What is it, not quite nine-thirty, and it already seems like a torture that’s gone on for hours?”
He grinned that sexy off-center smile that caused her heart to skip a beat, then took a swallow straight from the thermos. “Things can only get better.”
Not when I know you’re leaving. “Oh yeah, how?”
“You want me to show you?”
She licked her lips. “Show me what?”
“This.” His lips were feather-light and laced with coffee as they slid over hers. “And this.” He set his thermos in the snow, took the cup from her fingers and wedged it up against the root of a tree, then wrapped his arms around her. Gazing into her eyes, he settled his mouth over hers, and a part of her, a vital, very feminine part, responded. He made no promises, told her no lies, but kissed her so hard she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.
Snowflakes fell from the sky, catching in his hair and on her eyelashes, and yet her skin was warm, her heart a wild drum, the ache deep within her beginning to pulse. “Kate,” he mouthed against her skin. “Kate, Kate, Kate.”
His voice cracked and she nearly cried. He was leaving and she couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing him again, never touching him, never hearing his voice. She kissed him desperately, her hands holding his face, her eyes burning with tears.
Don’t leave me, she silently begged, though her pride wouldn’t allow her to whisper so much as a tiny plea. He kissed her lips, her cheeks, the shell of her ear, and she quivered inside, wanting more, kissing and touching and tasting him, believing that this crystalline morning was the last time she’d ever feel like a woman, ever have a chance to make love with him.
Gaze still locked with hers, he yanked off his gloves with his teeth and his fingers found the zipper of her jacket. It slid quickly open and Kate didn’t protest, but helped him shed the unwanted denim. He trembled as she kissed him back, her tongue finding his, her passion colliding with his, her heart thundering in a shared cadence with his.
Groaning, he lifted her sweater over her head then slid the strap of her bra over her arm to free her breast. Snowflakes collected on her bare skin and he kissed them away before the powdery sprigs of ice could melt.
“Daegan,” she cried as cold air blew over her nipple and it puckered. His tongue, hot and slick, rimmed the anxious bud. “Please,” she cried, bowing upward, tangling her fingers in his thick hair, wanting so much. She ached inside with yearning, a throb so deep it pulsed in the darkest part of her.
Finally his lips clamped over her nipple and she cried out as he suckled hard and firm, pulling and drawing while his thumb teased her other breast.
The world began to spin as his tongue tickled and teased. Love me, oh, Daegan, please, just love me! His fingers skimmed her skin as they moved lower to the waistband of her jeans. With a quick hiss the zipper gave way and he slid his fingers over her skin, shucking off her jeans to delve beneath the elastic of her panties, skimming hot fingers over the nest of curls at the juncture of her legs. Her hips lifted of their own accord and he kissed her there, through the nylon, hot breath against cold skin and moist curls.
“Be patient, darlin’,” he drawled through the lacy fabric. “We’ve got all day.”
But Kate was ready. It had been so long, so very long since she’d made love to a man, and now that she knew this was her one chance, her only chance to love Daegan, she couldn’t stop herself.
She shuddered as his fingers grazed her skin and delved. She cried out, feeling hot as warm honey where he touched her, and when he finally stripped her of that last flimsy barrier, she couldn’t wait. “That’s my girl,” he said, his breath whispering deep inside her as he kissed her lovingly in her most intimate of places, his tongue playing with the bud of desire that welcomed him.
He lifted her knees onto his broad shoulders, and slowly, drawing out her exquisite torture, he kissed and touched her. She was swept in a whirlpool of sensation, and her heart, drumming so loudly she thought it might burst, was a wild thing. “Let go,” he murmured and she did. The world tilted and stars flashed behind her eyes. She bucked and cried out and slowly he released her, stripping himself of shirt, jacket, and jeans, laying his long, sinewy body over hers, kissing her so hard she was sure she would die.
Her fingers explored him, touched him where she never would have dared, thrilled by the textures of hair, bone, and muscle as he came to her, parting her legs, prodding her with his erection, delving deep into her very soul with that first, mesmerizing thrust.
“Love me, Kate,” he cried, thrusting hard enough to force her to catch her breath before withdrawing slowly. “Love me.”
“I do,” she cried, tears falling from her eyes as he buried himself in her again. “Oh, Lord, Daegan, I do.” And his tempo increased, faster and faster, harder and harder, hotter and hotter, he moved, gritting his teeth, holding back, denying himself until finally she convulsed. And then with a cry as wild and raw as the storm surrounding them, he poured himself into her and collapsed, sweat sheening his corded muscles as he fell against her.
Kate clung to him, her passion spent, her mind still dizzy with the colors of a kaleidoscope. Why was she fated to love this man who had come a stranger and in the course of a few short weeks become her lover?
He kissed her and she blinked against the wash of tears and the snow still falling from a gunmetal sky. “Better?” he asked.
“Mmm.” She stretched languidly and watched as his eyes, so recently glazed with passion, focused on her face.
Silently he toyed with a strand of her hair. “This was probably a mistake.”
“There’s no probably about it.”
He glanced to the heavens, then closed his eyes and rolled off her. “I didn’t mean for things to go so far.”
Already he regretted making love to her! Disappointment shot through her, and her pride, so battered earlier, came back full force. She didn’t lament a single kiss; if he was leaving, she wanted something to remember him by. “Neither did I.”
“But I wouldn’t change anything.”
Relief swept through her and he kissed her softly on the cheek. She shivered and he gathered her into his naked arms, kissing her crown as the breeze teased at her hair. His naked chest, all tough, rigid muscle, pressed hard against her. He held on tight, as if he was afraid of losing her, as
if he, too, wanted to deny the horrid truth that he was leaving.
“You’re one helluva woman, Kate Summers,” he whispered. “I never expected this. Never.”
She nearly sobbed as she clung to him, and when his lips found hers once more, she was eager, hungry, anxious to join with him again, to prove deep in her heart that their attraction was more than physical, that theirs was a spiritual and emotional melding as well.
She thrilled to his touch, and this time she touched him everywhere, her fingers brushing across the hard wall of muscles that was his chest, to tease his flat nipples. He groaned and kissed her so breathlessly she could hardly think, then she reached lower, feeling the curve of his spine, his buttocks, his legs…“Sweet Jesus,” he whispered, half in prayer, as she slid her fingers around his erection and soon he could stand the torturous pleasure no more. He pulled her on top of him and lifted his hips to pierce her. She folded over him and he cried out in ecstasy, then savagely thrust again, holding her close, his mouth and tongue finding her breasts, licking, kissing, teasing, suckling as he made love to her.
With a cry she felt the earth tremble and she fell forward, feeling him shudder beneath her, his arms opening to catch her and wrap possessively over her, his breathing as torn and shallow as hers.
“Daegan,” she whispered and he dragged her jacket over them, kissing her temple and eyes as her heartbeat finally slowed. “Oh, Daegan.”
“I love you,” he murmured into her ear, and her tears began to flow as he stroked her hair. “No matter what else happens, believe that I love you as I’ve loved no other woman.” His words rang like the knell of doom. A deep wracking sob tore from her throat and he sighed against her hair, then pushed her away from him so that he could stare into her eyes. She saw the shadows of sadness in his gaze, the quiet determination, and her heart shattered.
“You’re going to leave me.”
“I have to.”
“But why?” she cried and he silently cursed himself. He couldn’t tell her that he was Jon’s father, that it was better for her and Jon if he disappeared from their lives and made sure that they were never bothered by the Sullivan family again. “I would stay if I could,” he swore, “but I can’t.” He stroked her cheek with a finger and felt the moistness of her tears. Damning himself silently, he kissed her again. “Come on, we can go back to the house and spend the rest of the day in bed.”
She shook her head. “Not if you’re leaving.”
He couldn’t help cocking an insolent eyebrow. “So now you want to barter?”
“How can you joke about this?” she said, her eyes brimming. “I love you, Daegan O’Rourke. I don’t want to, in fact I curse myself every time I think about it, but I can’t help it. I love you.”
The words seemed to crack in the cold autumn air.
“Jon loves you, too.”
His heart, already bruised, suffered another blow.
“How can you disappoint him?”
“I have to,” was all he said as he handed her her jeans. Sniffling loudly, she dressed, but she was obviously through begging and pleading and having her self-worth dragged through the mud. He watched as her shoulders stiffened and pride straightened her backbone.
Good. She’d need all the strength she could round up.
They dressed and rode back to the house in silence, leaving their hearts and vows of love on the ridge. Daegan mentally kicked himself over and over again for making love to her—not that he wouldn’t do it over again if he had the chance. God, she was beautiful and prideful and loving and more woman than he’d ever met before, but by making love to her, he’d stepped across a line that was too dangerous to even contemplate—emotional commitment which he could never vow.
After taking care of the horses and leaving them with fresh hay and water in the barn, he offered her more coffee, which she drank slowly in Eli McIntyre’s dilapidated little kitchen. Though sadness lingered in her eyes, she managed a half smile. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to give up all this luxury,” she teased.
“It’s hard.”
“But Montana beckons?”
“It was a mistake to think I needed to move away.”
Her gaze held his. “There must be another reason.” Was it his imagination or did the cup in her fingers tremble slightly?
Time to come up with a lie that will make her hate you so that she never comes looking. “There is.”
He counted out the seconds in the pulse at her throat. She didn’t move, and quiet despair twisted her features. “Which is?”
“I was running away.”
“Do I want to know from what?”
“Probably not.”
“Oh, God, you have a wife.”
He should have said “yes” and gotten it over with. Instead he said, “Ex-wife.”
“And children?” she barely said.
His throat closed in on itself. “A…a son. About Jon’s age. He, uh, lives with his mother and it’s probably better that way. I wasn’t much of a father.”
Disbelief clouded her eyes. “But you’re so good with Jon.” Her voice failed her. “You lied to me.”
“Yes.” Oh, lady, if you only knew. “But you lied, too. About Jon.”
“You were going to leave and not let me know.”
“No, I came by to say good-bye.”
“Even though we made love.”
He reached across the table and took her hand in his. “Believe me, I’ll never regret it.”
Her life, already falling apart, seemed to unravel even further. He read the pain in her eyes. “That’s it? It’s over?” Disbelief warred with disappointment.
It will never be over. Not with you and me. He felt it in his soul. “It has to be.”
“You bastard! You lying, no-good…” Before her anger carried her away, she stopped and stared at him for a heart-splintering second. Standing abruptly, she let out a little sound of protest and dropped her cup, sloshing coffee. “Good-bye, Daegan,” she said, snagging her jacket from the arm of the couch and heading out the door.
“Kate—” If only he could tell her the truth, let her know how he felt, who he really was…
She was already outside, down the steps, plowing through the snow, striding as if she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. Swearing under his breath, he ran to the truck, fired the engine, and took off after her. He caught up with her before she’d reached the end of the lane.
“Get in,” he commanded, rolling down the window. Her face was red, her jaw set, snow collecting in her hair.
“Go to hell.”
“Kate, please—”
“Just leave, Daegan,” she said, reaching the county road and turning into her own lane. “That’s what you’re going to do anyway.”
He couldn’t fault her logic. “Get into the truck.”
She whirled on him then, fury masking her features. “And you get the hell off my land.” Again she strode away from him, her fists knotted in anger, her breath fogging furiously in the air.
She turned again, walking briskly, but he followed her, and when she reached the house, he climbed out of the pickup and barged up the front steps. She tried to bar the door, but he forced his way past her. Knowing he should let her hate him, he stood in the living room of her cozy little house.
“What do you want?” she demanded. “Another romp in the snow?”
The barb stung. “I just want you to know that I didn’t lie about anything I said or did up on the ridge.”
She made a sound of deprecation and walked into the kitchen. “I don’t know why you’re here.”
“Neither do I.” She turned then and he held out his hands. “I should just let it go, Kate. The best thing for both of us is for me to walk out the door, but I don’t want to leave until you understand that, despite everything, I love you and I will always love you.”
Closing her eyes as if to shield herself, she reached for the telephone answering machine and pushed the PLAY button. “Don’t do this, Daeg
an. Don’t tease. Just leave. Now.”
“I will. But just know that I care, Kate. I care a helluva lot.”
Tears ran down her cheeks and she brushed them quickly away. “Okay, you’ve made me cry. Is that what you want?”
“No.”
“Mrs. Summers,” a male voice said and her eyes flew open. “Don McPherson at the school—”
“Oh, no,” she whispered, shaking her head. “Not now, not again.”
“We’re calling all our absentees who don’t have pre-arranged excuses or who haven’t called into the attendance secretary. We assume you’re aware that Jon is on the list.”
Neils VanHorn had never slept with his silent partner, though he’d spent more than one night in bed with other women picturing the perfect, aquiline contours of her face. Fantasies of her long legs wrapped around his torso, her bloodred manicured nails digging into his back, were the one thing that kept him on her payroll, despite the dangers of being caught.
Now, as he pumped quarters into the pay phone at a truck stop on some godforsaken stretch of Idaho highway, he had to admit that she frightened him more than a little. Just like the kid locked in the van, working to slide the cuffs off when he thought Neils wasn’t looking. The kid had such a hollow look in his eyes, like a goddamned zombie. Neils must have scared the piss out of him when he pulled that gun. Grimacing, Neils shot a look at the van across the parking lot. He had played a part in some half-baked investigations before, but kidnapping was a first for him, and it was all a worry. Maybe he should have insisted that Robert pay him more up front. Maybe he should forget about trying to get the woman into bed and just deliver the kid to the old man.
But then her sultry voice came on the line and Neils’s manhood sprung to attention. Just at the sound of her voice. Damn, he had it bad.
“You’ve got the boy,” she said, the excitement in her voice making him go harder.
“That’s right.”
“Where is he?”
