The warm scent of his sweat, mixed with whatever soap he’d used to shave that morning, filled the space between them and calmed her. Although he spun her up like a cowboy’s lasso with each display of masculine stupidity, he also had an uncanny way of making her feel at ease with nothing more than being near him. It was an internal battle that made her dizzy.
She threw her shoulders back and lifted her head to break the spell. “Whenever you’re ready.”
In one fell swoop, he stood straight and wrapped his arms around her waist, tugging her close. Her head fell back with the quick tug, and her breath stopped short of leaving her chest. She struggled to gain control of her breath enough to whisper, “Simon, please.”
“You asked,” he rasped, and covered his mouth with hers. That’s not what she’d meant, but her body responded the way he no doubt wanted. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. Lord above, the man would be the ruination of her in every way possible. Did she really need to keep herself pure if she planned to remain a spinster here at camp for the rest of her life? She’d never let her life be ruined by a husband. This was just passion and lust. Not love. Love was dangerous.
Yes.
The oath to her parents was only as solid as her resolve.
She pulled away from his kiss and let her head drop back. “Simon, please?”
He must have taken her plea for release as an invitation, for he ducked his head lower and forged hot, wet kisses down the side of her face and neck, leaving her breathless. Her senses played tricks on her she couldn’t fight as they focused solely on the movement of his lips. The way her heart seemed to shine inside her chest, lending light and warmth to every inch of her core.
His tongue played with the lace on the collar of her dress while his hands slid naughtily down her back to cup her bottom. Her lungs demanded more air, and her vision blurred until all she could see was the top of his head as he popped the top button loose on her bodice.
With a quick tug, Simon lifted her enough to spin them both around and press her to the base of the tree without her feet even touching the ground. Her most private of places ached with a need she didn’t fully understand, but the press of his leg between her thighs seemed to speak of promises that would satiate the throbbing need.
Carrie tried again to plead her case, to get Simon to leave her be, but this time the words went as far as her mind and no further. She couldn’t speak. Could do nothing more than moan as he stood straight and, with one hand, unbuttoned the rest of her bodice, freeing her undergarments to the cool, dusky air.
“Beautiful,” he purred, and slipped his hand beneath her chemise to cup her bare breast.
This time the air wouldn’t flow through her lungs, through her blood. Her mind swirled around the feel of his hot, experienced hand on the sensitive peak of her breast. At that moment, she knew she was lost to a man so wounded he didn’t even know how perfect he was to her. Flawless in every way. The perfect logger, man, and—she suspected—the perfect lover. She’d yet to experience the entirety of his loving, but she knew it too would stay with her forever.
She arched her back to press her breast even further into his palm. “I can’t fight the way you make me feel, Simon.”
“Then don’t.” He gave her a few quick kisses on her mouth. “What you’ll have with me is something you won’t regret.” He kissed her again, and drew back. He lifted her higher against the trunk and pressed his body tighter against hers. With one free hand, he untied the ribbon to the collar of her chemise until her breasts sprang free.
She gasped at the sensation of being completely free to the world.
Simon growled in appreciation. “I’ll show you what it’s like to be the vixen you desperately want to be.”
All she could do was answer with a shake of her head, which only made him dip his head and suck one extended nipple in his hot mouth.
Carrie gasped for air, but arched her back again. Her vision failed to allow her to see anything but the sparks of light from her charged core. She tangled both hands into his hair and held on, grounding her to the earth as he sucked and laved her nipples. She panted. He moaned and adjusted his grip to pin her to the tree with his body. One hand held her back, and the other explored one lonely breast while he teased the other.
She opened her mouth to take in a much-needed deep breath when Simon dropped her to the ground and stepped back.
Jostled, she struggled to bring her focus on the man before her. Illuminated by what remained of the light, he stood rigid and stared hard at something over her shoulder. She yanked her chemise over her breasts and buttoned her bodice. “What is it?”
“Sshh.” He moved his head in inch.
She let her hearing stretch and realized the forest had gone quiet. No noise but the occasional creak of a tree lent to the night.
“Let’s go,” he commanded, and snatched up the oar and peavey in one hand and clasped her palm with the other.
She all but ran after him, his stride long and fast. Not quite running, but with a sense of urgency that made her heart beat hard in fear rather than lust.
Before she made full sense of what was happening, he lifted her onto the seat of the bateau, yanked the line free, pushed the boat into open water, and leapt in. Water from the leg of his pants splashed into the bottom of the boat, and he dug the oar deep into the lake.
She glanced back at the receding shore as her mind struggled to make sense of the moment. “Is something wrong?”
“Something felt off back there. Like it did the morning I got attacked. I didn’t want to chance you getting hurt.” He maneuvered the boat to head toward Aunt June’s campfire, visible between the darkened trees.
“Oh,” she managed to say through the range of emotions coursing through her body. The moonlight glittered off the lake where they traveled, but farther down the body of water the last breath of daylight reflected off the glassy surface. She’d never been out this late before in the wild, but the view lent a serene and calming effect. She could stay out here forever basking in the beautiful tranquility of the mountain night. The feeling interrupted only by the ebbing sensation of Simon’s hands on her body and the tense moment following. What in the world had happened? She’d let herself go. Given in to the enchantment of the moment and forgotten who she was supposed to be. She couldn’t let that happen again.
Chapter 9
“Garrett,” Simon called out as his friend, and new brother-in-law, exited the railcar. Garrett stopped. Simon waited until he was close enough they wouldn’t be overheard. “Do you have a spare pistol I can borrow for the season?”
His friend narrowed his eyes. “I do, but I thought you didn’t like to carry a gun while working.”
“I’ve changed my mind.” Simon kept his face blank. The men in camp couldn’t find out that ever since his accident he’d been deathly afraid of running into another cougar. Although rarely seen, the beasts did exist in these woods. And if his accident, and last night with Carrie, proved anything it was that he had to be ready for the unexpected. He’d only experienced the quick silence of the woodland creatures and thick atmosphere change once. On that fateful morning when his world had changed forever. He couldn’t let that happen to anyone else in his life, especially Carrie.
Garrett nodded. The look in his eyes proved he understood. “It’s under the mattress.”
If there was one thing Simon could count on, it was Garrett’s discretion. He didn’t need to look like a scared debutant in front of his men and Carrie. While most loggers carried a knife on their belts, few toted around a gun. Then again, most stayed within the confines of their work zone and didn’t wander into wild territory alone.
That’s exactly what Simon planned to do. He needed to know what sort of predator had stalked them the night before, hiding out of sight as he and Carrie had their moment of passion. A moment he’d never forget.
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br /> “Are you going up to the Grove?” he asked, hoping the answer would work to his benefit.
“I hadn’t planned on it. We’re having some issues with the new machine. Haven’t gotten a log onboard the train in two days, but I can swing by if you need me.”
Simon shook his head. “No need to take an extra trip, but if you happen up there within the next hour or two, can you tell the Bull that I’ve gone to check out an area along the lake for our next clear-cut?”
“I’ll catch him before he heads up there. He usually stops by the train first.”
“Thanks,” Simon said. “When I get back I’ll stop by the Railroad Grove before I head up the hill.”
“I could use a good hand. The machinist who helped Wall build the piece of tin has moved on to California. I’ll need all the eyes I can get to fix the issue.” Garrett nodded his goodbye as he brushed past on his way to the Railroad Grove, and Simon all but jumped onto the train to grab the gun hidden underneath his sister and Garrett’s mattress. This whole blasted season was one for the books. They were supposed to be producing twice the amount of logs but had yet to get anything to the mill. Nothing was going as smooth as it had in years past. Except for last year when they’d had a small handful of saboteurs in their crew, they’d never experienced a season with so many blunders.
Once he secured the pistol, holster and all, to his belt, he left. If he was going to make it back in time for noon chow, he needed to get going. He wouldn’t leave Carrie alone for the ever-present human wolves of the camp. She was finding her place as cook, but that didn’t mean she belonged there. A woman like her, with her golden hair and steal-a-man’s-soul desserts, seemed to attract every man she came across, and they needed to know she wasn’t on the menu.
One of the two bateaus that the river crew left behind dipped with each small wave. He lengthened his gait. The other boat was noticeably absent from where he’d tied it up last night. Simon yanked the line free, leapt onboard, and started to row toward the bank where he’d tried to seduce Carrie the night before.
It took less than a quarter of an hour to traverse the waters to the bank and secure the boat. Once in the little patch of heaven where he’d finally been able to feel the soft skin of Carrie’s bare breasts, he searched the ground and underbrush. Something had been out here last night stalking them. He’d felt it in the air. Smelled the dank scent of moldy vegetation mixed with an earthy smell he recognized but couldn’t quite pinpoint.
Simon circled the tree where they’d stood, arcing out toward the direction the smell had originated. There on the ground, day-old bear droppings lay half-hidden beneath the grass. Unsure whether the bear had come through earlier in the day, Simon searched for clues.
He adjusted the gun and holster on his hip as he followed the telltale signs of the bear. Dipping down, he surveyed some disturbed ground under brush yards away from his new favorite tree. He’d expected sharp, clawed indentations; instead he found the hole-riddled footprint of a logger spiked boot too small to be his own. The broken grass beneath the brush gave the perfect outline of a man lying prone, watching the tree where he and Carrie had been.
Who the hell else had been out here? And when? Simon’s neck heated, and he pinched his lips together. A few feet away a hand-rolled cigarette made with some sort of printed paper lay burnt almost to the end. Simon bent down and plucked it off the ground to study the hand-rolled cigarette. He growled. Had whoever lain here watched him undress Carrie? Had they seen her perfect body exposed to the night air? He threw down the smoke. If caught up with whoever had watched, the man would wish he’d met with a sheriff’s hoosegow first. Simon might be injured, but that didn’t mean he’d lost his strength. And with the rage boiling the blood through his veins, no man stood a chance. Especially a mudsill like a man who would lie beneath a bush to spy on another man seducing a woman.
Simon’s stomach burned, mimicking the emptiness in his heart. He set his teeth until his jaw began to ache. Whoever it was, and whatever they had seen, he couldn’t let this happen to Carrie again. He had to be more careful with her. And he certainly couldn’t let her know that they’d been spied on.
A branch in the tree above cracked and a bird took flight. Simon moved toward the boat, and work. Whether the feeling he’d gotten the night before was from the bear or mudsill didn’t matter. What did matter was Carrie. He couldn’t let her be compromised while he punished her for bringing him to the increasing nightmare of a season. The mountain might have called to him in his youth, but did he feel the same about the Great Mountain Lumber Mill and his work as he had before? This season proved his life had changed forever. And not for the better. The only light he had in his life was Carrie. He couldn’t lose her to some four-flusher logger—or the mountain.
* * * *
Carrie juggled the half-filled basket of huckleberries in her arms and searched the ground for more. Although a bit early in the season for such a delicacy, she’d stumbled upon a patch ripe enough to pick. One thing she’d gotten good at since last year was making huckleberry flap-jacks. The men devoured the sweet breakfast like the hungry loggers they were. She’d grown fond of her position here among the men. Most treated her like a sister or friend. On the other hand, a few chose to torture her with romantic requests and nonsense proposals. As if she’d come to a logging camp to find a husband.
Simon she excluded from the throng of suitors filling her days with angst. He was simply attempting to make her life difficult by any means necessary. And it had somewhat worked last night. Although now she had to avoid him for a day or two so she could set her runaway emotions right. The moment he’d kissed her, she’d lost all semblance of sanity. She’d become one of his harlots, basking in the way he made her feel with the skillful touch of his hands on her body.
Her breasts ached at the memory of his palm, warm against her nipples. At that moment, she’d forgotten why she had come to the camp and wanted more. In a forest full of predators, he was the most dangerous of all. And the one she needed to be around the most. The force behind Simon’s touch fractured her resolve to remain strong. Somewhere deep inside, she wanted to give in to him, but she was a practical creature by nature. She needed to remember who she was in the face of Simon Sanders.
“Fancy meeting you out here.” The high-pitched male voice broke through her reverie. She spun on her heels as Thomas’s friend Jake stalked toward her with a strange glint in his eye.
“Oh, it’s you.” She grasped the base of her neck, then bent down to pluck a few from the bushel at her feet. “You startled me.”
“Wouldn’t want to do that.” He stopped before her and simply stared. “It’s been a few days since I asked you to marry me. So how’s about it?”
“Marriage?” He couldn’t be serious. A proposal in the teasing moments during chow was vastly different from one made in a grove. God, she hoped he didn’t ruin berries for her. “Still no. Sorry.”
“Ah, no matter.” He grabbed her by the shoulders, causing the basket to topple from her fingers and berries to scatter along the ground.
“What are you doing? Let me go!” she demanded.
“I heard you don’t mind being kissed. Maybe this will change your mind.” At that, he pressed his dry lips to hers.
She choked back the vomit stuck in the base of her throat as he moved his mouth over hers and pressed to urge her to open up to him. Struggling against his grasp, she tried to step back.
Her mouth ran dry, and the ache in her arm grew as he tightened his grip even more. She yanked her head back to end the kiss. “Stop.”
“I thought you liked to be kissed in the woods.”
“Who told you that?” There was no way Simon would have gone bragging about their moment. Was there?
“Someone who was there.” He bent down and forced another kiss on her lips. This time, he let go of one arm to paw at her breast.
With all
the strength she could muster, she lurched her knee up in hopes of connecting with a place that would leave him in pain for the remainder of the day. The rest of his life—if she could put enough force behind it. Her aim was perfect.
Jake lurched down, doubled over, and howled in pain.
Not one to waste a good escape, she ran. Faster than she’d ever before with no care for the basket now crushed beneath the curly, liberty-taking wolf. She glanced back to ensure he didn’t follow.
As expected, he remained doubled over in pain. Carrie let the smug smile tugging at her lips go. The man deserved more than what he got. And who the hell was Simon to go bragging to others of her indiscretions? Perhaps she could teach him the same lesson she had taught Jake? Simon might be a surly grumpard of a man, but she certainly wasn’t afraid of him. Now all she had to do was find the blasted fool.
She made a quick stop at the Railroad Grove to look for Simon, but he wasn’t there. She didn’t dare climb the hill to the other Grove, so she made her way to camp. She’d have to tell Aunt June the loggers would go without flapjacks in the morning because she wasn’t about to go traipsing back to the berry patch alone. It seemed every time she ventured out of the safety of Aunt June’s mothering gaze, she found herself in a compromising position.
This season was turning out to be the opposite of what she’d envisioned. Vastly different from the year before when all she had to worry about was keeping Beth from trouble and nursing Simon back to health. Then again, last year she hadn’t gone anywhere alone. She had been too frightened to do such a brazen thing.
Since then she’d grown comfortable with her surroundings. She wasn’t about to be a wilting miss anymore out here. A bit more like Beth, and less the needy socialite the men believed her to be. But her brazenness always seemed to get her into trouble.
Around the bend in the trail ahead, the cook camp would come into view. Perhaps Aunt June knew where Simon worked. The woman seemed to keep tabs on the man like she was a mother hen and he her chick.
Wild Passion Page 10
