But the rush of heat, of passion, he felt, couldn’t be blamed on the shampoo. Lacey was so damned beautiful, his teeth ached.
Her hair fell in a natural part in the middle and the damp strands curled past her hips. In the firelight, her skin glowed like rich, polished jewels. She was ‘woman’, as mysterious as Eve, and just as alluring.
He could smell her. He recognized her scent. His soul cried out to mate with her, to forge the bond that would make them one and bind her to him in every way known to humanity.
Restless, he shifted, trying desperately to ignore the ache tormenting his body.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked softly.
Danger blinked. “What?”
Lacey swallowed hard at the sudden change in his features. He looked ready to pounce on her. She backed up a step at the fierce look that crept over his face.
His eyes darkened to pure hot silver, nostrils flared. He inhaled a sharp, ragged sound that expanded his chest. There was something raw and elemental in the way he stared at her mouth. His gaze shifted, skimming the curves of her breasts beneath his shirt.
He may as well have put his mouth to them the way her nipples tightened in response. The soft cotton of the damp T- shirt was suddenly abrasive against the sensitized tips of her engorged breasts.
Her heart picked up its tempo, rapping against her chest like a drumbeat. The air thickened. Her breath lodged in her throat. Her lungs burned, demanding fresh oxygen. She could see the slight quiver in Danger’s body as he struggled for control and lost the battle.
Lacey wondered if he had any idea how sensuously he moved. The fluid movement of his body fascinated her and oh. . .so deliciously tempting. His sleek, boneless walk reminded her of a dangerous predator on the prowl.
Heat curled in her belly. The flames licked their way downward, leaving a fiery trail that wandered at will. A shiver of fear or perhaps anticipation slid through her. Tonight in this strange valley of darkness, he was different from the man she’d known through the day as her protector.
He was now more dangerous than any animal. And she was his prey.
It had been unintentional, but the fact remained that somewhere along the way he had claimed her. She’d become his without the physical act of being joined. It frightened her even as it excited her. As he raised a hand to tentatively place it on her cheek, she gasped and spun away.
Doubts assailed her. She wasn’t ready for this!
There were too many unanswered questions between them. Neither trusted the other completely. And they had separate lives, lived in different areas of the country. They could not give in to this overwhelming need they both felt, not when there was only raging desire pulling them together. If there wasn’t enough glue to build a foundation, then everything between them wasn’t worth spit. She didn’t want that.
She didn’t want him to walk away once he got what he wanted from her, and she was very much afraid that was his intent. She wanted more, more than he was ready to give, more than he might ever be willing to share with her in a lifetime.
“There is something you can do to help,” he whispered, placing his hands on her shoulders and turning her to face him. “But somehow I don’t think you’re willing.”
Lacey sighed. “I don’t know you. I can’t complicate my life with a man I scarcely know.”
Not when something more evil and deadly than Danger could or would believe was out there, waiting for them, and not if he was a part of that evil.
She knew without a doubt she was in serious trouble. The man standing before her stalked her with a heated intent that was so much more deadly than the murderer bent on ending her life. If that man succeeded in killing her, then it was all over.
But if Danger succeeded in his goal, he would possess her body, her heart, and her soul. Everything would change. Her life would become his. Could she accept that?
She glanced up at him. His eyes burned hotly, drifting over her body with barely concealed hunger. She felt as if she was on the verge of being ravished.
God, what a word. Ravished.
Yes, he would ravish her and she just might never get over it.
Danger touched her, the faintest caress down the long, thick swath of damp hair.
“You know me, Princess, probably better than anyone else.”
His hand came to rest at the curve between her hip and waist. She shuddered, her skin sensitive to his touch, even through the material of the shirt. A whisper of sound grated harshly in her ear, disrupting the haze of desire spreading through her.
“If you think for a moment I would touch you when you make it abundantly clear you abhor everything about me, you’re mistaken. I have no need of a woman who one moment doesn’t know where she’s been, refuses to trust me, yet looks at me with hunger burning in her eyes, and still she keeps me at a distance.”
He laughed bitterly. “You must think I enjoy pain. Worse, you must think I’m the world’s greatest fool.”
For a moment, they stared at each other, tense. Lacey’s heart beat out a rapid rhythm. She touched his face, stroking his firm jaw. She wanted to comfort him, needed to comfort him. She blinked desperately, refusing to let him see the tears in her eyes. He would hate her if he thought she felt pity for him. And she didn’t, truly she didn’t.
It was just that she would have to give him so much of herself. He needed so much, would demand her complete surrender. And he would give nothing back in return. He would tear her love to pieces and toss the fragile, broken fragments carelessly aside. She couldn’t survive having her heart trampled on again.
Lacey took a step back.
His expression darkened. Contempt slashed across his rugged features and, that quickly, he shut her out. “Don’t tease me again,” he said harshly.
With the sweep of his dark lashes he’d swept her out of his way. Discarded her like so much unwanted garbage. The contempt in his eyes cut her like a knife. Her lungs expanded painfully as she drew in a sharp breath. She had to try and make him understand.
“I want you, Danger. I do. In my heart, I do,” she said softly. “But I. . .I can’t.”
A ragged breath passed through his lips. His chest expanded, then he slowly exhaled. “I don’t care anymore, Lacey,” he said quietly. “It’s all right. Some things aren’t meant to be.”
Lacey swallowed hard. Oh God, no. I can’t bear this.
Defeat deepened the lines around his eyes. A bitter smile rested on his firm lips. “I’m tired of feeling as though you’re hiding something from me, but I can deal with it. I just want you to be the beautiful woman you are,” he said quietly. “A woman not ashamed to give herself to the man she wants. Needs. A female who has needs and desires of her own to equal her man’s, one who is willing to place herself into the care of that man that plainly says to the world she trusts and believes in him.” He hesitated, then said softly, “When you’re ready, I want to be that man, Lacey.”
Lacey felt her insides cave in. Her stomach turned to mush. “Do you trust me?” she asked in a quivering voice. “Are you willing to place yourself into my care? It works both ways, you know.”
Consternation speared his face. The truth was ugly. She was right, damn her! She was right, and the answer was ‘no.’
So how could he expect her to surrender her heart and body if he wasn’t willing to do the same?
His voice was surprisingly gentle when he spoke. “Witch. Do you have any idea what you're doing to me?” He gave her a faint smile. “Yeah, you know exactly what you're doing to me, don't you?”
He turned away from her, his back rigid.
“What?” she whispered.
He whirled around, hostility replacing the earlier gentleness in his voice. “You’re driving me crazy! Do you know that? Do you even care?”
His voice broke, and his eyes darkened with uncontrolled emotions. He reached for her but let his hands fall away before touching her. “I can smell you, woman. Your taste still lingers on my tongue
. I’m dying here, and you—you just keep pushing me away.” His face tightened, darkened. “I know I shouldn’t touch you, but my body betrays my common sense.” Heat shimmered off him, scorching her. “I don’t want to want you,” he said desperately. Raising stricken eyes to her, he added somberly, “I seem to have little choice in the matter. I can’t help myself.”
He spun away, the dirt and rocks crunching beneath his angry steps. Long after the sound faded, Lacey stared after him. Hot tears slid down her cheeks, unheeded. She shivered as realization slammed into her soul.
I can’t help myself.
She’d just made a terrible mistake. In her desire to protect her heart she’d just destroyed Danger’s. She hadn’t handled things well. He was a threat to her. A sensuous, devastating hunk of male, and she’d hurt him deeply. Not purposely, but all the same, the damage was done, the pain there in his eyes for her to see.
What am I going to do? I’m dying here, too.
Lacey shook her head attempting to clear her thoughts and suddenly realized there was more between them than she’d thought. Like everything else in this wild, beautiful land, Danger was unpredictable, but he’d been there for her from the very beginning. She battled herself as much as him, but she wasn’t one to admit defeat, not to a murderer, rattlesnakes, or steely-eyed sheriffs.
In her young life, she’d never been tested the way she was being tested now. If she survived this trek into the backcountry of Montana, she didn’t think she’d ever be quite the same, and she didn’t think she would ever forget the man who was with her doing his best to shield her from death.
She prayed this would all be over soon, before she became forever lost to her real self and to the real world that lay like a hazy mist in the back of her mind.
She wanted her life back.
She wanted the man she loved. But that man had to love her in return. Danger Blackstone would never do that, not now, when she’d proven she would only hurt him.
God, help her, she’d been foolish enough to fall in love with a man whose hard ways and tough exterior promised a woman both heaven and hell. If she should choose to share his life in this mountainous region, what kind of life could they have?
He didn’t care who she was. He’d made that abundantly clear. Did that also mean he didn’t care about her?
For the first time, Lacey wondered about the depth of emotions this strangely quiet, lawman kept such a tight rein on. She thought of the kisses they’d shared, and knew it wasn’t enough.
Lacey shivered, anticipating that very soon he would demand a lot more than she might be willing to give. He wanted her, but he wanted her without ties. She couldn’t accept that, but her heart betrayed her. She was in love with him. Dear God, when had she fallen?
She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure of anything, and she’d been unsure for a very long time.
I don’t think I’m going to be able to wait much longer.
The cool night air was suddenly chilling.
She didn’t think she was going to be able to wait much longer herself, and the thought devastated her.
In The Arms Of Danger
Chapter Twenty
Anything worth doing is worth doing slowly.
Mae West
Montana Backcountry Sun. 9:00 p.m.
Danger stood near the edge of the fire immersed in his lonely thoughts. Bitter disillusion filled his soul; even so, the hollowness in his gut had never been satisfied. He knew his family loved him, his grandparents, his siblings, but it wasn’t enough.
There had to be something more.
He needed more. The constant yearning for more had left him unconsciously looking for the right woman to give his heart to.
The only thing he’d ever wanted, needed, was a family of his own. A wife. Children.
What was it about him that made it so impossible for anyone to love him?
First, his mother. Now, Lacey.
A strangled laugh tore from his throat as bitter memories filled his heart. Even with all her spouting off Native American history, maybe it was his bloodline that held Lacey back. He was part Cheyenne and Nez Perce, with his mother’s Anglo blood tossed in for good measure.
The fact that he, as well as Coe and Anna Leigh had Anglo blood was a taboo subject in the home he grew up in. Papa Joe forbade all three of his grandchildren to admit to even a dab of Anglo blood tainting their gene pool. In the old man’s mind, it was a disgrace and something best ignored and forgotten.
His grandfather, Joseph Hiram Walker Blackstone, was full-blood Nez Perce, and a medicine man. Grandma Shalene was full Cheyenne. Both grandparents lived by and believed in the old, traditional ways of tribal life. Papa Joe had little use for the white man or his ways—less use for their women. He had yet to forgive his only son for marrying an Anglo woman and propagating, a fact proven by Papa Joe’s refusal to speak a single word to his daughter-in-law, Sheila Court Blackstone simply because she was pale-skinned.
It didn’t matter that Sheila was the mother of the old man’s grandchildren and he loved them dearly. Papa Joe despised his daughter-in-law. When it came to accepting Anglo women into the family, he could be stubborn as sin.
If he bothered to speak to Sheila, he spoke in a language she was sure not to understand. Actually, Papa Joe spoke in a language he himself didn’t understand, because his grandfather made up the dialect as he went. Pygmy. It had become a family joke, but the pain and suffering they endured because of Sheila was no laughing matter. Papa Joe’s refusal to speak to Sheila Blackstone had lasted nearly thirty years, until her death six years earlier.
Danger couldn’t really blame his grandfather for hating Sheila. Their entire family had nearly been ripped asunder by the chaos she’d created. Lord knew the Blackstone family had more than had a bellyful of her kind.
Turning toward the tent, Danger’s thoughts returned to the woman inside it.
Waiting. But not for him.
Lacey. . .
Lacey had made it abundantly clear she couldn’t bear his touch, let alone love him. His painful erection reminded him there was an urgent need for relief, or he was going to be thoroughly miserable all night, or humiliated by a wet dream.
Mumbling beneath his breath, he kicked off his moccasins. He unfastened his jeans and tore off his T-shirt. Wadding it into a ball, he stuffed it inside the saddle bag that was now beginning to bulge with his soiled shirts and underwear. The water he’d heated for his bath had cooled off, but maybe the cold water would wash away the need Lacey ignited in him. He doubted it, but maybe.
There were ways he could relieve himself, he thought bleakly, but it wasn't something he relished doing.
Self-disgust rode heavily on his shoulders. She’d reduced him to this. He hadn’t thought of or even needed that type of physical manipulation to relieve his needs since puberty. Somehow, she lit his fire. Why? Why this particular, willful, headstrong female?
Because she handles anything you dish out and gives as good as she takes.
The overwhelming need to possess her burned him alive. He’d never felt the desire to bind a woman to him the way he wanted to bind Lacey. The need to drive himself deep inside her was as primitive and foreign to him as seeing a cave man.
Danger soaped his body and rinsed away the day's tension as well as sweat and grime. Toweling dry, he tugged on clean jeans and fastened all but the top button. A whisper of a breeze cooled the air. It brushed his sensitized skin and made him yearn for Lacey and the touch of her mouth against his flesh.
He frowned suddenly realizing his jaw ached from clenching it so tightly. Something had to give. He’d sleep outside, stay away from her and her inviting body. He couldn’t take much more of the constant togetherness.
In the distance, thunder rumbled. A moment later, the sky lit with brilliant streaks of lightning. The flash of radiance relieved the pitch blackness for mere seconds then vanished into the dark clouds. But he saw enough to know he wouldn’t be sleeping outside the tent.
> Sighing, Danger made his way toward the tent. Like the storm brewing, Lacey had entered his life like a whirlwind, bringing about a change in him that had become increasingly familiar. The latent fire she’d built in him left him achy. He wanted her.
Worse, the want had turned to need. And the need was overwhelming.
I should never have kissed her. Never have taken the first sweet taste of her—but I did.
Dear God, he craved the flavor of her sweetness on his tongue just one more time.
He wondered what she’d do if he marched inside the tent, grabbed her and kissed the hell out of her. That would be a laugh. She’d probably throw a gun at him.
A grin tugged at his lips. The man who was lucky enough to win Lacey Weston’s heart would never have a dull moment in his life. She’d keep him on his toes. Yeah, she’d sure do that.
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