“I’m so glad you changed your mind and decided to come,” Callen said with breathless excitement. “I would have gone through with the wedding even if no one from the family came, but I’m so glad to have someone to stand beside me.”
“I’m not here to support you,” Zach said in a hard voice.
Callen stepped back, aware suddenly of the hostility that bristled between her tall, intimidating brother and the lean, dangerous man who would soon be her husband. Her heart sank. There was no way the two of them were going to be reconciled in the few minutes she had before the wedding. If it came to a choice, Callen knew she would go with Sam. That would surely make Zach even angrier.
Callen stared up at her brother. “Why did you come, Zach?”
Zach’s eyes were on Sam. “To tell the sonofabitch you’re getting set to marry that if he lays one hand on you, if he hurts you in any way, he’ll have to answer to me.”
Callen heard Sam’s hiss as he took an outraged breath, felt his body stiffen, saw his stance widen for battle. She put herself between the two men, laying one hand on Zach’s chest and the other on Sam’s to keep them from coming to blows. “Please,” she said. “Don’t fight.”
When she turned to Zach, she found no sympathy in his dark eyes, only scorn and anger.
“You’re a fool to be marrying beneath yourself like this,” Zach raged. “Take a good look at him, Callen. He’s a disgrace.”
When Callen didn’t immediately turn back to Sam, her brother put a strong hand on her chin and forced her face around toward her bridegroom. Callen shook herself free as she heard Sam’s growl of challenge.
“Let her go!”
“She’s my sister. I’ll do as I please.”
“She belongs to me now,” Sam retorted. “You damn well better leave her alone.”
“The hell I will!”
“Stop it! Both of you!” Callen cried, shoving against two hard, heaving chests with the flat of her hands.
Zach continued his scorching castigation of her bridegroom without even taking a breath. His dark eyes burned as he held her gaze. “Think about who you’re going to marry,” he said ruthlessly. “Sam Longstreet barely made it through high school. He’s got no dreams, no goals. Hell, all he wants is your money! He’ll embarrass you in front of company because he looks like hell warmed over most of the time. Like now,” he said, nodding with his chin toward Sam. “Is that the way a bridegroom ought to dress for his wedding?”
Callen looked, then lowered her eyes. She had been willing to disregard Sam’s appearance, to excuse it. That was difficult with Zach standing beside her pointing out Sam’s faults. She felt a flush of embarrassment, then a burning resentment toward her brother and, to a lesser extent, toward Sam for putting her in the position of having to defend something she had condemned herself.
“What Sam’s wearing doesn’t matter to me,” she said stubbornly.
Zach grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her so she was facing him again. Her hand dropped away from Sam’s chest, but she was aware of him standing behind her, of the leashed tension that sizzled and threatened violence.
Then Zach was speaking, his face so close she could see the temper smoldering in his dark eyes. “The man doesn’t have any friends. You’ll be all alone once you’re living with him at the Double L,” he warned. “Don’t marry him, Callen. Put an end to this nonsense.”
“I love him,” Callen said in a quiet voice.
Zach pulled her into a protective embrace, almost crushing her with his strength. “God, Callen, what can I do to make you change your mind?”
“Nothing. I’m going to marry Sam, with or without your approval…or Daddy’s blessing.”
Zach’s next words were spoken low in her ear so there was no possibility of Sam overhearing. “When you decide to leave him, when you recognize your mistake, you’ll be welcome at my place.”
He levered her away and into Sam’s waiting arms. “Don’t forget what I said, Longstreet. You harm one hair on her head, and I’ll come after you.” Then he stalked past Sam and out the courthouse door.
Callen stood there with Sam’s arms wrapped comfortingly around her, hard-pressed to hold back the tears that threatened. The third time around she certainly hadn’t planned on a lavish wedding. But she would have liked some of her family to be there, and she would have liked her groom to be a little better dressed.
She raised her blurred gaze to Sam’s face and saw a flash of sympathy in his green eyes that disappeared so quickly she wasn’t sure it had been there in the first place.
“Do you still want to marry me?” Sam asked in a taunting voice. “Or has your brother talked you out of it?”
Sam was giving her one last chance to back out, Callen realized. She searched his eyes for any sign of the affection he had shown her during their courtship. It seemed strangely absent. She felt frightened. What if her family was right, and she was wrong? She couldn’t afford to make another mistake. But neither could she face the humiliation of crawling back home with her tail between her legs.
Stubborn pride kept Callen standing at Sam’s side. She wasn’t going to let her family talk her out of something she knew was right. Her relationship with Sam over the past three months had revealed the source of a vague discontent she had felt for years. She was thirty-two years old. She had yearned for someone to love, someone to love her. She wanted children, several of them, and she wasn’t getting any younger. And she needed a home of her own, a place where she belonged. Sam had promised to fulfill those needs.
Furthermore, Sam had been a neighbor for years. If he had really been a fortune hunter, wouldn’t he have come courting a lot sooner? He couldn’t possibly have the sinister motives for marriage that her father and brother had suggested he did.
“Let’s go on in.” Sam put a hand to the small of her back and ushered her inside the judge’s chambers. She wasn’t acquainted with the judge, nor with the secretary and bailiff he offered as witnesses.
Callen heard nothing the judge said as he began the words of the ceremony. She was too caught up in remembering her family’s accusations against Sam and her own reservations about what she was doing.
“For richer or poorer, in sickness and in health…”
He’s a fortune hunter! He’s only after your money!
Callen closed her eyes as a wave of nausea rolled over her. It was terrifying to defy her father, terrifying to ignore the warning signs that were all around her and follow her heart.
I love him.
That was the response that had silenced her father. That was the response that had silenced Zach. But was her love enough?
“Do you have a ring?” the judge asked.
Sam added a simple band of white gold to the diamond engagement ring he had given her that had belonged to his mother.
Then it was her turn. She knew how much a rancher worked with his hands. A ring that wasn’t simple would be a nuisance and likely wouldn’t be worn. So she had bought him a plain gold band. She saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes and then what looked like pleasure as she slipped it on his finger.
The ceremony was over too quickly. The judge smiled at them and said, “You may kiss the bride.”
Callen was ready for a quick peck on the lips. But Sam pulled her slowly toward him until their bodies were aligned and then lowered his mouth to claim hers. The kiss was thorough, and before he was done they were both breathing hard.
When she turned an eye back to the judge, his grin had broadened. He reached out to shake Sam’s hand. “It’s always a pleasure to see two people in love.”
Callen noticed the smile on Sam’s lips, but it never reached his eyes. Was it the mention of the word love that bothered him? Sam had never said the words to her, but he had shown her in a dozen different ways that he cherished her. Besides, she thought with a rueful smile, this was no time to be having second thoughts. The deed was done. She was Mrs. Sam Longstreet.
Sam was no longer smiling by the
time they reached the steps outside the courthouse door. “Do you want to drive to the house together, or follow me in your car?”
“Do you have a preference?” She wanted him to say that he couldn’t bear for her to be separated from him for a moment. She wanted to be romanced on her wedding day. Sam’s response was too practical for her peace of mind.
“We’d only have to make another trip back for your car,” he said. “Go ahead and follow me to the house.” He turned his back on her and headed for his pickup, leaving her standing alone on the courthouse steps.
Callen noticed he hadn’t called it a home.
She tried not to feel abandoned, tried to put the best possible face on the situation. But this wasn’t what she had imagined. What had happened to the romantic swain who had swept her off her feet?
Callen pursed her lips thoughtfully. If she didn’t stop seeing trouble everywhere, she was going to drive herself crazy. Things would work out. She only had to remember that she loved Sam. And he loved her, whether he said the words or not. She was married to Sam, for better or worse.
Unfortunately, when Sam carried her over the threshold of the Double L ranch house, she saw how bad worse could be.
Her father’s description of Sam’s place as a “ramshackle ranch” was very much on the mark, Callen realized. She had known the wood frame structure with its tin roof was old. But she wasn’t prepared for what she found inside when Sam set her back on her feet after carrying her over the threshold.
“Well? What do you think?”
Callen searched for something nice to say. “It’s…clean.” Perhaps neat was a better word than clean. She eyed the dust that had gathered on every surface, the cobwebs in the corners. What furniture the house contained—and it was decorated Spartanly—was old and rat-bitten. There were no antiques here that had been lovingly polished to a high sheen like there were at Hawk’s Way. Just secondhand junk.
No wonder Sam hadn’t wanted to bring her into the house. There was nothing here that could be admired. Until this moment, Callen hadn’t realized how luxurious her life-style at Hawk’s Way had been, or how spoiled she had been by the comforts she had always taken for granted.
The condition of the furniture, of the house itself, suggested things had been going downhill at the Double L for far longer than the three months since E.J. had died. The place reeked of ongoing impoverishment.
Her father’s words echoed in her head. He’s only interested in you for your money. She shoved them back out again.
“It needs a little work,” she said with a hard-won smile. “But I’m more than willing to supply the elbow grease.” She walked around the combination parlor and office excitedly pointing out the improvements she would make.
“First thing is to buy you a new desk. Then, a sofa placed just so in front of the fireplace, a couple of leather chairs—something comfortable with an ottoman for you—a few tables, lamps, some art for the walls, a carpet on the floor, and I guarantee you won’t recognize the place.”
“All those things cost money,” Sam said.
Her smile broadened. “I’m rich. I can afford it.”
He shook his head.
Callen felt a well of joy. He didn’t want her money! Her father was wrong. She was moving toward Sam when his next words stopped her.
“We’ll need that money to make back payments on the mortgage and to pay debts I’ve accumulated. I doubt there’ll be much left for frivolities like furniture and rugs.”
“What?” Callen was staring at Sam as though she had never seen him before. “I have plenty of money—”
He cut her off with a harsh oath. “It’s not enough. I have a fairly good idea of the extent of your fortune. I’m telling you, it’ll be eaten up by the cost of keeping possession of the Double L.”
“Then we’ll sell this place and—”
“No, Callen. This is my home—your home now. We’re staying come hail or high water.” In response to the shocked look on her face, he said, “Surely your father mentioned I was in financial trouble.” His mouth twisted cynically. “You must have known how bad things are. The condition of the outbuildings, the fences that needed mending, the rundown condition of the house. You couldn’t have been blind to all of it.”
“I…wasn’t…exactly.” Only she had worn blinders, refusing to see reality, lost in a fog of euphoria: a fool in love. In one respect—Sam’s need for her money—her father had been absolutely right. But she wasn’t going to cry craven and run. She loved Sam. And if he needed her money, he was welcome to it.
Callen lifted her chin. “Whatever money you need, you’re welcome to spend. Use it how you think best.”
Sam’s eyes narrowed. He was astonished at Callen’s generous offer. He had expected trouble when he told her he wanted to invest her fortune in the Double L. With the marriage still unconsummated, it was a sure way of goading her to run, to save herself from the fate he had planned for her. But her brown eyes had flared with a militant light and that stubborn chin of hers had bucked up. And she had offered him everything she had.
He refused to feel guilt or remorse, even though the pull of both made the skin stretch taut across his cheekbones. She had made a free choice to be his wife. She had stayed when she saw how rough things were going to be. Well, so be it. He had committed himself. It was time to get on with his revenge.
CHAPTER THREE
“COME HERE, CALLEN.”
Callen saw the fierce desire in Sam’s eyes and felt an answering desire rise within her. Now that the moment was at hand, however, she was uncertain what to do. “It’s broad daylight,” she said with a shy smile.
“I want to see you when I make love to you for the first time,” Sam replied.
A rush of pleasure and embarrassment painted Callen’s cheeks a vivid rose. “There’s not much to see,” she murmured. Her breasts weren’t anything to shout about, and while she had a narrow waist and a decent pair of legs, she was closer to cute than pretty, closer to pretty than beautiful. It would have been easier to do this the first time in the dark.
“Callen.”
The single word was a command that compelled her to obey. She took the several steps that brought her near enough for Sam to reach out and pull her close. His arms folded around her possessively.
Callen felt safe, secure, treasured. Those weren’t the feelings she had expected and, as it turned out, weren’t the feelings she experienced moments later when Sam’s mouth came down to capture hers.
Hungry. Unbridled. Ruthless. Sam demanded total surrender, and Callen was helpless to resist. The blood raced in her veins, sending heat and shuddering sensation throughout her body. Now Callen understood why Sam had kept his desire under control in the past. She was overwhelmed by feelings she had never imagined. His effect on her was devastating.
“Sam,” she gasped. She clung to him, breathless and almost dizzy. She was shivering and couldn’t seem to stop.
“Callen,” he breathed in her ear. It was a plea. It was a promise.
He lifted her into his arms and carried her into his bedroom. It was darker there because heavy curtains covered the windows. She clung to Sam’s shoulders as he leaned over and pulled down the covers on the bed, barely toeing off her shoes before he laid her down. She noticed the bed was made with fresh white sheets that had been tucked in with almost military precision. He had known he would bring her here. He had cared what she would think—about this, at least.
The sheets were cool, or maybe it was simply that she was so warm in contrast. He stood above her, his green eyes lit with a fierce, primitive light.
“Take off your clothes,” he said.
Callen was caught unawares. She had expected him to do that for her, had anticipated it, in fact. He stood above her, arms akimbo, legs widespread, with that devouring look on his face, and waited.
She sat up and turned her back to him before lifting her hair out of the way. “Can you get these few buttons for me?” It seemed like an eternity
before she felt the brush of his hands against her nape. She felt the sweep of air as her back was exposed and a moment later the touch of his mouth against her skin. A shiver of delight ran down her spine.
When he was nearly finished, Sam slid onto the bed behind her. His hands slipped around to cup her breasts. She felt him exhale slowly as his hands shaped and molded the small mounds.
“You feel so good.”
The sound of his voice rasped in her ear, sending another shiver through her. Her hands dropped to rest on his as she leaned her head back against his shoulder. “I’ve dreamed about this so often….”
“So have I,” he confessed. “You feel so good, so right in my hands.”
“There’s not much there,” she said with a wry smile.
“Enough. Plenty,” he said as he turned her in his arms.
She gasped as his mouth latched onto one breast through the lace. She felt the nip of his teeth and laughed breathlessly. “Maybe I ought to finish taking this off.”
He lifted his head and released her. “All right. Go ahead.”
She was suddenly shy again. The unbuttoned dress slid off her shoulders, revealing the white silk camisole she wore. She rose on her knees and shoved the dress and a half-slip down, then sat and pulled them off over her bare legs. She hadn’t worn nylons in deference to the June heat, so she was left in nothing but her silk tap pants and camisole.
She started to lower the straps of her camisole, but Sam reached out a hand to stop her. She followed his eyes downward and saw that her nipples had peaked beneath the silk. There was a damp spot near her right breast where his mouth had been. He lowered his head and suckled her through the cloth.
Callen groaned. She had never felt anything so exquisite. Her hands slid into Sam’s hair, which was thick and silky to the touch, while her head arched backward in ecstasy.
Sam took his time removing the rest of her clothing. It was difficult for Callen to lie still under his sharp gaze once he had her bare.
“You’re beautiful, Callen.”
Hawk's Way: Callen & Zach Page 3
