Hideaway

by Sandy James

  “You all stay safe,” he said to the animals. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He couldn’t help but shake his head at his words. It was Kayla’s fault that he talked to the animals now. Rusty, sure. Horses were smart. But she always insisted all the critters understood her, so she’d made a habit of it. He’d adopted the same practice, silly though it was.

  As if animals knew what people were saying. He scoffed at the notion.

  Knowing he could put it off no longer, Drake made sure he was protected against the intense cold by wrapping the scarf around his face until was nearly covered. Then he forced open the barn door just enough to slip through.

  The wind hit him like a punch, sending him stumbling to the side as he held tightly to the rope. No matter how many times he’d been caught in a blizzard, he’d never grow accustomed to the mind-numbing cold. Bracing himself, he began to follow the line back to the house he couldn’t even see through the intense snowfall.

  Thank the Lord, Kayla was safe and warm. Drake would need her help to get out of his sodden clothing. Perhaps he could get her sit next to him by the fire, and he pictured the two of them snuggling under a quilt. As he warmed himself, he would listen to her sweet voice read him more of a book that had captured his imagination.

  Then he’d probably kiss her again.

  Hand over hand, plodding his way through the hip-deep snow, Drake endured the ordeal, comforting himself with the knowledge that a warm home and a beautiful woman waited for him. The winds were brutal, and he had to fight his way slowly along the rope, sometimes turning his back to take the brunt of the gales for a moment or two before he could continue.

  Funny, the thought that she was waiting for him was far too tempting for a no-account cowboy like him. What business did he have daydreaming about Kayla being his and his alone?

  The house slowly appeared, a good thing, because he was chilled to his very bones. He couldn’t feel his feet or fingers and knew he was in for a world of hurt when they were again warm.

  Then he saw something just ahead of him, a dark form lying still as death nearly buried in a snowdrift.

  No, it couldn’t be. She’d promised him she’d stay in the house.

  His mind raced as he stumbled toward what he’d now recognized as Kayla.

  Please don’t let her be dead.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kneeling beside Kayla, Drake tried to roll her to face him. She was nearly hidden in the snow, and the wind whipped so loudly around them that he couldn’t hear anything but the roar.

  She had to be fine—she just had to be.

  Since they were close to the porch, he let go of the rope and wrapped his arms around her waist. Tugging her along, he stumbled toward the house, sending them both sprawling back into a drift when he tripped on the bottom step that was buried deep in the snow. Righting himself, he hauled her up to the porch, setting her down against the wall while he opened the door. Then he had to fight past the snow that followed them inside. He was finally able to lay her on the floor.

  Strength rapidly waning, Drake shouldered the door closed and then quickly cast aside his sodden gloves, scarf and hat. His stiff fingers didn’t want to cooperate, but he was finally able to get his coat off. All he could think of was getting Kayla warm. She was curled up on her side where he’d left her, unmoving.

  After shedding his boots and wet socks, he knelt beside her. Damn if his jaw wasn’t seized in cold spasms that made his teeth rattle. He couldn’t help but let out a relieved sigh when she groaned as he turned her to her back.

  She was alive.

  A glance around the sitting room gave him hope. She’d clearly prepared well for his return with blankets and towels waiting on the table. Drake sent up a thankful prayer for her foresight. He half carried, half dragged her to the sofa. Then he tossed a couple more logs on the fire, careful not to get his numb hands too close to the flames.

  As he undressed her, she began to rouse. Her teeth chattered hard enough he feared one might crack, but he refused to stop when she weakly tried to push his hands away. Where survival was concerned, modesty had no place. It wasn’t until he had her stripped down to her shift that he was satisfied. Grabbing one of the towels, he rubbed her braid, wondering if he should loosen her long hair to allow it to dry. Figuring the braid was probably easier to manage, he left it in place and spread one of the blankets on the rug in front of the fire. Picking her up, he carried her to the quilt and placed her on the center.

  “Where are my clothes?” Her voice was slurred and sleepy. She sat like a discarded rag doll, boneless, as she glanced down at herself.

  Drake untied the ribbons around her thighs and peeled down her thick stockings. “I can’t believe you went out in that blizzard in damned skirts.”

  “What?”

  “You shoulda worn pants, woman,” he snapped.

  “A lady does not wear pants.”

  With a shake of his head, he pointed to the blanket. “Lay down, Kayla.”

  “Why did you take my clothes?”

  “They were wet,” he replied as he went to work on his own clothing. Had his long johns not been damp, he would have spared her the embarrassment of his nudity. But he shed those as well, wrapping one of the towels around his hips. Thankfully, her shift had been dry so he hadn’t needed to remove it, too.

  After rubbing his hair dry, he picked up the second blanket and sat down next to her on the floor. “Lay down,” he said again. “We need to help each other get warm.”

  Kayla slumped over, and he helped her stretch out in front of the fire.

  Drake spread the blanket over them before he fit his front to her back, trying to keep the cloth around his hips. With his clumsy fingers, the task proved impossible, so he gave up that fight and wrapped his arms around her, trying to will heat back into both of their bodies.

  “We should have eaten something,” she said, her voice still unsteady.

  “Not until I warm us up.” He let out a snort. “I’m plum exhausted. Couldn’t make us supper if I wanted to.”

  “I shall prepare a meal later—” An exaggerated yawn interrupted the last word.

  He kissed the top of her head where it was tucked next to his chest. “You do that, Kayla. But for now, just sleep.”

  Holding off his fatigue as long as he could, Drake finally surrendered when Kayla’s breathing became slow and rhythmic. His last thought before sleep claimed him was that holding her felt too right to ignore.

  * * *

  The dull ache in her head woke her, the same type she tended to get when her monthly was due or she’d overexerted herself. She kept her eyes half-closed to try to figure out exactly why a fire was shining directly on her face.

  Things came back in a rush when she felt the hard planes of Drake’s body pressed tightly to her back. One particularly firm part of him was nestled against her backside, and knowing that his body had responded to her in such a fashion sent heat straight to her core.

  Then she remembered that her father had often teasingly offered a theory that some men were able to respond to nothing more than a stiff breeze. Although Kayla might not be the cause of Drake’s arousal, she was quite content to be held in his strong arms and take advantage of the situation. Headache or not.

  The reason she was in his embrace now seemed foolish. She’d broken her promise to him and ventured out into weather more intense than she’d ever experienced before. When the first gust of wind had caught her, she’d been slammed into one of the porch posts so hard that she’d eventually blacked out. She only recalled a little of tumbling off the porch into a snowdrift before Drake had dragged her back inside.

  Trying to move slowly as not to awaken him, she felt for the sore spot on the side of her head where she’d hit the post. A small knot had formed, and simply touching it made her wince.

  The warm body behind her stirred. “Kayla?”

  “I did not mean to wake you.”

  She could hear him let out a yawn. “God, I’m ti
red.” The hand he’d rested on her hip moved to her stomach and gave her a gentle stroke. “Are you well?”

  “My head aches. I remember hitting it against—” Before she could finish her words, she found herself flipped to her back with Drake looming over her.

  “Where’d you hit your head?”

  “My right temple struck a porch post.”

  His hand was suddenly in her hair, and when his finger rubbed the sore spot, she sucked in a breath.

  He frowned down at her. “You’ve got a knot there. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I fear I don’t remember much after that. Please stop touching it.”

  “It pains you?”

  “A little,” she admitted, not wanting to complain.

  “I can scoop up some snow for you to hold against it.” Although Drake offered, he didn’t move a muscle. Instead, his eyes kept gazing into hers, a penetrating stare that sent her blood racing and banished any thought of her headache.

  The firelight painted his skin bronze, and she found that she was attracted to the patch of brown hair on his chest. She lifted her hand to lightly touch the crisp hair before splaying her fingers through it. Touching him was intoxicating. All she wanted was more and more.

  He jerked as though she’d burned him. “Don’t…”

  Kayla refused to heed him. Instead, she placed her palm against his chest as she stretched her other arm up to grab his neck, intending to pull him down to kiss her.

  Drake resisted—for a moment. Then he settled his mouth on hers.

  After a quick, no-nonsense kiss, he eased back and stared down at her, a confused expression on his face.

  She tried to tug him closer again, wanting the same type of kiss he’d given her before, the one that had made her toes curl.

  He remained rigid, not giving into her insistent pulling. “Kayla…no.”

  “Why?”

  “Are you kiddin’ me?”

  “I assure you, I am not teasing. I want you to kiss me.”

  “You don’t know what you’re askin’.”

  “I’m asking for a kiss,” she said sternly, a little insulted that he didn’t seem to want her.

  Although his breath quickened, he shook his head.

  “Kiss me, Drake.”

  “If I kiss you, I’ll want more.” With another shake of his head, he started to move away.

  Kayla held tight, trying to keep him right where he was. “Perhaps I’d like some of that…more.”

  His eyes widened.

  “I find that I enjoy your kisses. I should like to see where they might lead us.”

  Drake’s heart was pounding, and his mouth had gone dry.

  The woman couldn’t possibly know what he wanted of her. He had no doubt she was a virgin, a sheltered one at that, despite her bravely venturing to the West on her own.

  Problem was that he was naked and she was nearly the same, and even though the kiss he’d given her had been chaste, he wanted her desperately. All that kept him from smoothing his hands over her soft skin was a thin shift that he could rip from her body with little effort.

  But he’d made himself a promise. She deserved the kind of life he could never give her.

  She clung like a vine when he tried to roll away again. “Kayla…”

  With surprising strength, she pulled him closer and brushed her lips against his. Once. Twice. Then she took his lower lip between her teeth and he was lost.

  Sweeping his tongue into her mouth, Drake pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the floor as her hands went to his back to caress and explore until her palms covered his backside.

  Nudging her legs apart with his knee, he settled between her thighs as he ravaged her sweet mouth. Her tongue was every bit as wild as his, and it didn’t take long until his control slipped away.

  He shifted to her ear, running his tongue around the ridges before he brushed kisses against her slender neck. Soft, little bites were soothed with long licks, and the way she purred in pleasure and squeezed her thighs against his hips had his cock hard and aching.

  Kayla’s fingers skimmed up his back, her nails leaving trails of gooseflesh in their wake. She seemed to want to touch him everywhere, and her innocent exploration of his body only added to his desire.

  She let out a soft mewl of displeasure when he stopped kissing her. But when he laved a hardened nipple through the thin fabric of her shift, she dug her fingers into his hair and tugged hard. He merely chuckled and shifted to her other nipple, drawing the linen-covered nub deep into his mouth.

  Her legs wrapped around his hips as she rubbed her core against his erection. All he needed to do was shift his hips, and he could plunge deep inside her warmth.

  A gust of wind came whipping down the chimney, sending a flurry of sparks from the fire to hover over them like shooting stars. The sting of the ashes against his shoulders sobered him so quickly that his head spun.

  “No,” Drake said in a strangled whisper. Dear Lord, he’d been ready to take her right there on the middle of the sitting room floor. What kind of animal was he?

  “Drake?” Her voice quavered with uncertainty.

  He flopped to his back, breathing hard, still wanting her but knowing he would never forgive himself if he took advantage of her in such a degrading way. It wasn’t until Kayla tried to crawl on top of him and kiss him again that he was able to force himself to move. He scrambled to his feet and scooped up the blanket that had covered them. He wrapped it around his waist, trying to shield himself.

  She stared up at him with wounded eyes. “I don’t understand.”

  “I–I can’t do this.”

  “Drake…”

  “I won’t!” He tripped on the blanket as he tried to hurry away. Righting himself, he headed to his room, slamming the door in his wake.

  Kayla shivered, as much from Drake’s rejection as the cold. Fighting back the threatening tears, she put a few more logs on the fire to bring some heat back into the house. No doubt the fires in their rooms had gone out, but she didn’t want to worry about that now. Her mind raced as she tried to figure out why he’d left her.

  Left me?

  Ran away is more like it.

  He fled with the speed of a startled rabbit, and no matter how much she searched her thoughts, she could find no reason.

  There had been passion in his kiss, in his touch. She’d tried to return that passion, following his lead and not letting any blood-cooling modesty keep her from responding with all the affection she felt for him.

  And affection was the correct word. This went beyond physical to her. Kayla wasn’t trying to fool herself into believing Drake could feel more for her than lust, but she couldn’t remain every bit as emotionally aloof. She was growing to care for him. A great deal. That caring made her need to make love to him blossom.

  Yet he’d spurned her.

  But why?

  Brushing away a stray tear, she got to her feet. Her head swam for a moment, and she worried that the knock she’d taken might be more serious than she’d first thought. The dizziness quickly passed, so she brushed aside her concerns and decided to confront Drake. It was clear she’d done something wrong, something that had repulsed him and made him leave her. She dearly wanted to find out what about her or what she might have done that had been so foul that he’d passed up what she’d freely offered.

  Because the house was so cold, she stopped in her own room to don some clothes. Her breath came in white puffs as she tugged on her garments, and her brow was furrowed in concern. Could it be that there was something wrong with her? Had her body repulsed him? She’d never considered herself beautiful, but she didn’t believe she was ugly, either.

  She cupped her hand in front of her lips, huffed out a breath, and sniffed. Was the smell of her breath revolting?

  The sounds of Drake moving around his room got her moving again. She hurried to his door and pounded on it with her fist, unable to control her rising anger. “Drake, I need to speak to you.” />
  There was no reply.

  She hit her fist against the door harder. “You must come out here and speak to me! This instant!”

  His footsteps echoed against the floorboards and the door swung open. What right did he have to glare at her?

  She narrowed her eyes. “Tell me why you left me.” She hated the way her voice trembled, and she hoped he’d chalk it up to the bitter cold instead of the hurt he’d dealt her.

  Instead of replying, Drake pushed past her and went to her room. Then he crouched by the hearth and went about starting a new fire as though everything was routine again.

  Kayla sat on the edge of the bed watching him. The fact that he wouldn’t give her an explanation only made her mind reel with increasingly frightening theories.

  I’m too thin.

  My breasts are too small.

  He thinks I’m ugly.

  As the fire caught, he fed it with a couple more logs and then rose to his feet. “We should eat.”

  She shook her head. “Not until you give me an explanation.”

  Drake raked his fingers through his hair, and she bit back an acerbic comment about it needing to be cut. “Can’t we just forget that happened?” he asked.

  She gave her head another shake. “If I offended you… If I did something…wrong…”

  “That’s what you think?” He let out grim laugh. “You think you did something wrong?”

  “I must have! Why else would you run away from what I…wished to do with you?”

  “Because you deserve better!” On that shout, he marched out of her room.

  Kayla hurried to follow. “What exactly does that mean?”

  “You’re a virgin.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  He glared at her. “I’m not sleeping with a virgin.”

  “I see.” She tried to keep her chin from quivering, but she was so close to tears. “You wish me to be more…experienced. Like your…other women.”

  “I’m not talkin’ about this anymore.” He stomped away and didn’t stop until he was in the sitting room. After a look at the fire, he picked up a block of wood and tossed it on the pile.