by Janet Dailey
"I think you're right. " Her heart was altering in rhythm with her shallowing breath, quickening and skittering across her ribs like a stone skipping across the surface of a pond.
While his mouth continued to tantalize her lips, Brig slid one hand under the thick material of her underwear top. The roughness of his calloused palm was a pleasant rasp against the smoothness of her stomach. Soft tremors quivered through her at the evocative caress.
"Does a man who loves you get a little cooperation or does he have to struggle without help?" His mouth followed the curve of her jaw to take a sensuous bite of her earlobe in mock punishment. The action drew a gasp of pure pleasure from Jordanna.
"I'd love to have you undress me. " The husky pitch of her voice revealed the havoc he was creating with her senses. "But, under the circumstances... " The words trailed away, the need for them gone.
By mutual consent, they drifted apart to undress themselves as they sat in front of the fire. One watched as the layers of clothing came off the other. Jordanna studied the firelight playing over Brig's face. Its flickering light seemed to soften the angles of his features. Or was it the love, she wondered, blazing in his dark eyes, that had melted the hardness?
Brig was taking longer to undress than she was, although neither hurried. As she pushed her longjohns over her knees, his gaze burned a path from her hip down the length of her thigh. He winced, gritting his teeth against the sudden shaft of pain that accompanied his attempt to ease his Levis down his hips. Brig quickly concealed it but Jordanna had caught the brief flash of white teeth against the dark of his mustache.
"Let me help. " She rose on her knees, not feeling the gritty floor beneath them. "I had some practice at this the other night. "
Without arguing, Brig laid back on his coat, crossing his hands beneath his head for a pillow. Her smile trembled with the exquisite intimacy of the moment Carefully Jordanna worked his clothes over the bandaged wound. It was difficult to concentrate under the disturbing inspection of his gaze surveying the naturally graceful movements of her nude form.
When his clothes were discarded, Jordanna sat on her bare heels, poised near his knees. She sought his eyes, feeling that wonderful unsureness that only comes with love. Brig stretched out a hand toward her, his eyes warm with command. Hesitantly, she took hold of his hand, his strong fingers entwining with hers. With the ease of a big man, he pulled her to him, laying her down to stretch her length beside his.
A skillful hand began caressing her body, languidly stimulating flesh that needed little incentive to react to his touch. The fleece lining of his coat was beneath her, but Jordanna was more conscious of the warm feel of his hard body. Seeking her mouth, Brig turned on his side. Dark chest hairs tickled her sensitive breasts. The delightful torment arched her closer until the solid wall of his chest was flattening her breasts and the curling hairs brushed all the way to her stomach.
His breath quickened, like hers, as he eased his weight around her. His hands and mouth were coaxing and driving gasps of pleasure from her. Jordanna's reaction stimulated him and sent her own senses spinning The urgent need of his thrusting male form communicated itself to her and there was an answering ache within her, exciting and overwhelming. It was a rapturous discovery, to not only love but be loved in return.
Her fingernails flexed catlike into his hard shoulders as his mouth seared a passage down her throat and followed the natural valley between her breasts to her stomach. His tongue traced a hot circle around her navel. Jordanna bit at her lower lip to hold back the moan of sheer pleasure.
"Don't hold back, " Brig ordered thickly. "Scream, if it's what you feel. "
His mouth brushed the tender tips of her breasts, then rolled one around his tongue. The delicious sensation curled her toes and Jordanna didn't check the wild moan of ecstacy that came from her throat His hand glided along her inner thigh and she moved against it. Her caressing hands felt his muscles trembling under her touch. She thrilled to the sound of her name, and the murmured love words he whispered. Brig groaned with shivering longing as he shifted his weight on top of her, pinning Jordanna to his jacket His mouth crushed onto her in hard demand and she wrapped her legs around his hips, lost to the sensual claims of the act of complete love.
Chapter 23
Jordanna lay inside his arm, facing him, her fingers tracing the hard features. Her flesh had been calmed by his lovemaking, but her soul was still soaring on the wings of his love. One, rough, masculine leg was hooked over her knees to keep her near, while a hand absently roamed the curve of her waist and hip. His eyes were brown velvet, sliding over every detail of her face.
"I never understood why women always wanted to talk after they had made love. " His low voice retained its seductive pitch.
"What did you want to do?" Jordanna let a fingertip follow the sensual outline of his bottom lip, liking to watch his mouth form words.
"Most of the time I listened to their comments and questions while trying to figure out a way to get the hell out of the bed, " Brig admitted without remorse. "Otherwise, I either wanted to roll over and go to sleep, or make love again. "
"Which do you want to do now?" Her teasing question was faintly breathless and perfectly serious.
His gaze was dark and solemn. "I just want you to know how much I enjoy making love to you, and how good it feels to me to be inside you. You can't possibly know what it's like to feel your breasts against my skin or the thrill it gives me to know you are as wildly aroused as I am. "
"I'll bet there are sensations of my own that are comparable. " Jordanna lightly contested his implication that the intensity was one-sided.
"It's more than that. " Brig refused to make light of it. "There is quiet pleasure in having you ride beside me through the mountains, a hidden joy in sharing the grandeur of the scenery with you, and a satisfaction that can't be described sitting with you in front of a campfire. It's your company that pleases me, Jordanna. The sexual gratification your body provides has become a fringe benefit. "
Love shimmered in her eyes, glistening jewel-green, "And you said you weren't any good with words. "
"I'm not. " His dark brows furrowed together. "If I was, I'd find some easy way to ask you to marry me without feeling like I was tripping over some stilted phrase that had become so overused that it lost its meaning. "
"I would be proud to marry you, Brig McCord. You don't even have to ask. " Her voice wavered on an emotionally charged note.
Brig kissed her hard, sealing the promise while holding back the passion. A crooked smile slanted his mouth as he drew back and sighed. "I guess I'll have to build a bunkhouse for the boys, so we can start filling the upstairs bedrooms with children. "
Children, Jordanna thought, with dusty brown eyes and dark brown hair. She wanted to wrap the images in her arms and hug them close. She could picture a small version of Brig tagging behind his father as he walked across the ranch yard. She could even see herself standing on the porch of the log house watching the two of them.
She gazed at Brig, unaware of the serene radiance in her expression. "We might be starting a family sooner than you think, thanks to your virility and the fact that my pills are back at camp, " she admitted quite happily.
His nostrils flared to take in a quick breath; then his hand slid protectively over her stomach. With a groan, he buried his face in the curve of her long neck. The grip of the hands that held her close was fiercely gentle. Jordanna remembered that a male wolf shared equally the responsibility of raising the cubs with its mate. It was several minutes before the faint tremors stopped quivering through him and he drew away.
"Listen to me, Jordanna. " His hand trembled slightly as it smoothed the hair behind her ear. The sternly serious look in his eyes was vaguely frightening. "Tomorrow Jocko will be out looking for us. He'll know something is wrong when we don't come back to camp today. If I'm lucky, I'll find Jocko before your father finds me. "
Reality crashed onto the untainted beauty of her lo
ve. In the midst of its enchantment, Jordanna had momentarily forgotten the suspicions Brig had about her father and her own confusion about them.
"No. " She rejected the subject from their conversation, wanting nothing to spoil the precious moments they were sharing. "I don't want to talk about it. " She looked away, focusing her gaze on the ivory wool of the inside lining of his jacket beneath them.
"We have to, " Brig insisted and continued. "When I leave in the morning, I want you to stay here where you'll be safe. "
"No!"
Brig pretended not to hear her. "I have the paper from my cigarette pack. I'll draw a map to show where the cabin is... in case something happens to me, then they'll be able to find you. "
"Nothing is going to happen to you!" She violently denied the possibility. It was a double denial—both a belief that he was wrong about her father and a heartfelt plea that fate wouldn't be so cruel as to take Brig from her so soon.
The pitying look in his eyes at her continued disbelief was hard to hold. "Not if I can help it, it won't. " He stroked a caressing finger across her cheek. "I've never had more reason to want to stay alive than I do now. "
"Stop it!" Jordanna choked on the words. "You've made a mistake about Dad. Somehow you have things confused. "
"For your sake, I wish I did. " His voice was heavy. "We'll find him tomorrow. And hell explain it all. "
"You're going to stay here in the cabin, " Brig repeated. "I don't want to risk a chance that you might be harmed. "
"Dad would never hurt me. That's absurd!" she denied.
"Not deliberately, he wouldn't, " he agreed. "But a quick shot, a bad aim, a bullet that goes astray, a ricochet—No, there are too many possibilities. As long as I know you are here and safe, I'll only have myself to worry about" Brig ignored the protest in her expression. "I'll make certain you have plenty of firewood and set out some snares before I leave tomorrow. If no one comes for you by the day after tomorrow, set the cabin on fire. Someone is bound to see the smoke and come to investigate. "
"No!" She angrily rejected his suggestion, her eyes flashing with unshed tears of pain. "I'm not staying here without you. If you leave tomorrow, so do I. "
"Dammit, listen to me, Jordanna. " He gave her a hard shake. "I'm trying to do what's best"
A stillness claimed her, hardening her determination. "I'm not staying here alone, and you can't make me, Brig" Jordanna informed him. "Either I leave with you, or I'll follow you. I won't be left behind. "
An eyebrow arched in sharp query, his gaze becoming narrowed and probing. "Why?" he demanded.
"Because... " She wasn't sure of the reason.
"... because you aren't positive that I'm wrong about your father. That's it, isn't it?" There was grim satisfaction in his conclusion and Jordanna wavered uncertainly.
"I... don't know if you are or not. " The admission was frightening. She had known her father all her life. Yet she loved this man. It was a situation that pulled her trust and loyalty in two different directions. She felt trapped between two equally powerful magnets. "I won't stay behind, Brig, " Jordanna insisted again. "Don't ask me. "
"Don't you see, Jordanna?" His mouth quirked in a rueful smile. "I don't want you to get caught in a situation where you have to choose between us. "
It was a barely stifled cry that came from her throat. Immediately, she was wrapped inside his arms. She clung to him, needing his comfort and his strength. She began to cry softly and Brig kissed the tears that dampened her cheeks. From a distance she heard his words, swearing his love for her and his wish to spare her. When her face had been kissed dry, she began returning the kisses he showered on her. The response had a catalytic effect, producing a storm of passion that didn't pass until its fury had been spent.
Brig was up before Jordanna the next morning. She knew if she hadn't awakened when she did, he would have left without her, but she didn't give him the chance. He tried once more to persuade her to stay where it was safe.
She had stood before him in stubborn defiance. "I'm going with you. Whatever happens... if any- thing happens, " she had hastily corrected, "I am going to be there when it does. "
Brig had been angry, but without the means to force her to stay. They had set out from the cabin with a grim silence between them. He was limping hampered by the wound. Jordanna's insistence that they should take turns breaking a path through the snow was something he accepted very grudgingly. Logic made him agree to her plan, when pride demanded that he lead the way.
Again the skies were clear and the sun bright, but the temperature was cold. The snow, which in places had drifted to more than a foot, showed no signs of meeting in the glaring sunlight. Their breaths were vapor clouds, preceding each slogging step through the white powder.
The route Brig chose was not an easy one. They stopped often to rest, never allowing perspiration to form and freeze against their skin. They had traveled several miles before Jordanna realized Brig had not set a direct course back to camp. For a split second, she thought he might have lost his bearings, that perhaps a fever might have affected his mental state. An instant later, she guessed his reason for choosing this circuitous route through the roughest terrain. Brig was avoiding her father. The rest stops were chosen to occur at vantage points where he could survey the land ahead of them Their route was dictated by the cover it provided—trees, rocks, or shrubs. Jordanna wanted to decry the need for such caution, but she was less positive than she had ever been before.
Animal tracks were plentiful in the snow, but there wasn't a sign anywhere of any human passage except their own. They seemed alone in the mountains, with only the wind dancing over the snow and cloud shadows floating across the mountainsides. The loneliness didn't bother Jordanna, only Brig's wariness, which seemed to increase the more familiar the terrain became and the closer they came to camp. It was almost tangible. His gaze was restless, never pausing, always searching. His alertness was uncanny, as if every one of his senses were honed to a sharp edge. The sensation shivered along her nerve ends. It reminded Jordanna of an animal sensing danger without knowing in which direction it lurked.
Leaning against a cold boulder, Jordanna shielded her eyes from the sun. Frigid air filled her lungs with each breath. Her gaze traveled to Brig. They hadn't exchanged a word the last mile. Camp wasn't more than two miles away. Brig was studying the country between them, careful not to skyline himself on the ridge. Jordanna heard him swear under his breath.
"What's wrong?" She held her breath as she asked the question.
His sideways glance was impatient and sharp. "I expected Jocko to be in this area. It looks like I guessed wrong. " As he turned to limp to where she stood, Jordanna saw the dark, wet patch staining his Levis.
"Your wound has opened up. You're bleeding again, " she accused.
"Tell me something I don't already know—like where your father is... or Jocko, " he snapped.
"If I knew where either of them were, I would tell you, " Jordanna flashed and pivoted from him.
Her shoulders were captured by his leather-gloved hands and hauled backwards to his chest The sudden action knocked the hat from her head. The wind blew her hair free as the hat tumbled into the snow. Jordanna resisted his iron grip for an instant Then she felt his lean jaw against her hair.
"The sunshine is in your hair again, " Brig murmured. "I wish all this was behind us and we were back in our bed at the ranch. " The apology that he couldn't voice was in his loving words.
"So do I, " she agreed fervently. "And we'll be laughing over this misunderstanding about Dad. "
He sighed heavily at her statement and lifted his head. "Come on. " He pushed her forward. "It's time we moved out again. "
"But this isn't the way to camp, " Jordanna protested when she realized the direction they were taking.
"We can't go that way. There isn't any cover. We'd be too exposed to... We'd be too exposed. " Brig didn't correct his sentence quickly enough to keep Jordanna from guessing how he had i
ntended to finish it. They would be too exposed to a rifleman. He didn't believe for a minute that there would ever come a time that they would laugh about this. His certainty frightened her. "We'll go this way, " Brig directed.
Jordanna picked up her hat and looked in the direction he indicated. The terrain was forbidding and rough. Rocks swept clean by the wind and gleaming with icy crystals. It meant climbing higher and treacherous footing.
"You'll never make it, Brig. Not with that wound. " It was a flat statement
"I'll have to make it" There was a faint shrug of his shoulders as he took a step forward, almost dragging his left leg.
"You're already bleeding, " Jordanna pointed out again. "How much do you think you can lose before you pass out?"
"I'll have to find out, won't I?" Twisted humor crooked his mouth.
"No. I can make it to camp from here and it won't matter if I'm exposed, " she reasoned. "There will be spare horses. You can stay here and I'll ride back for you. "
She expected Brig to argue. He studied her for a minute, then nodded, "Alright I'll wait here for you. "
Instead of being relieved, Jordanna was worried by his easy acceptance of her suggestion. It bad to mean his leg was bothering him a great deal more than he had let her see.
"I'll hurry, " she promised.
His gaze was suddenly very intense. "Just make it safely, Jordanna. " The cool leather of his gloved fingers caught her chin and lifted it to meet his bending head. His mouth was hard in its possession of her lips, claiming them fiercely, as if it might be the last time. Fear splintered through Jordanna, and she clung to him until he firmly set her away from him.
"I'll be waiting for you. "
"I'll come back, " she whispered, feeling close to tears.
Relief sighed through him as Jordanna crested the rim-rock and started down the slope. Away from him, she would be safe. Brig limped near the crest and eased himself into a sitting position that would permit him to see over the rise. He packed his left leg with snow, the white flakes turning crimson as they became stained with his blood. Within a few minutes, the cold pack began to numb his throbbing leg and, he hoped, slow the flow of blood.
