by Stacey Kayne
"Not to Duce, you won't," Garret said with a laugh, brushing his wet hair back with his hands. "My Pa woulda fired anyone who tried anything fresh with Skylar and he made sure every man knew it."
Issuing that sort of challenge was begging the men to seduce Daines's feisty daughter. Tucker didn't see how any man could romp through the water with Skylar, be subjected to her pretty smiles and soft skin, and not take her. Walking away from her that night a week back had damn near killed him.
The way the kid talked, Skylar and Duce had actually been friendly with one another. Tucker had seen Skylar's big blue eyes cloud over when her brother mentioned the man's name. She wouldn't show such emotion over just another cowhand. If Duce was any kind of man, he would have been all over her.
With his teeth clenched tight and a tension tugging at his back, Tucker waded up to the shore and grabbed his wet clothes from the rocks. He twisted the denim and cotton, wringing out the water and popping threads.
What am I so worked up about?
He eased his grip on his shirt before it was ripped to shreds. He didn't have a damn thing to be jealous about.
I'm not jealous! he silently defended. The thought of him being jealous over a woman was laughable. Possession worked both ways. He just didn't like the idea of Skylar being in the arms of another man.
He didn't like it one damn bit.
Chapter 13
The morning sun sparkled like twinkling stars atop the surface of the gently flowing water. After she scrubbed her clothing in a shallow pool along the shoreline, Skylar's sun-warmed skin prickled as she waded farther into the wide river with the soap and cloth clutched in her hand.
Taking a deep breath, she dived beneath the glittering surface and swam toward the clear, deep pool where Garret and Tucker had frolicked the day before, hoping the swim would help her body adjust to the cold water. With each broad stroke of her arms, a dull ache tugged at the tender muscles in her left shoulder. She'd removed her stitches a couple days back. Most of the swelling and bruising had faded, leaving an ugly red seam of flesh in the hollow of her shoulder.
Surfacing in the sheltered cove of deep water, she shivered and realized Garret and Tucker may have been smart to jump into the stream still wearing their clothes, saving their bare skin from the bite of the frigid water. With her clothing strung out across surrounding boulders to dry, she didn't have that option. As desperately as she needed a bath, she wouldn't complain if she had to bathe in freshly melted snow. By the time she swam back to the shallows, the water didn't feel quite as cold and the stiffness in her shoulder was easing. She quickly scrubbed up with the soap she'd used to wash her clothes, wishing all the while that she had brought her sweet-scented soap. But today she was finally Morgan-free and she didn't want the floral fragrance causing her thoughts to stray to Tucker. When she'd set off for the river nearly an hour ago, Tucker and Chance were saddling their horses to ride toward town. By now they were miles from camp and wouldn't be returning until nightfall.
A smile stretched her lips as she started toward shore. With the Morgans out of her hair, she finally felt relaxed, and she'd have some time alone to spend with Garret.
She grabbed the drying sheet from a rock and glanced at the clear blue sky and towering pine trees as she dried herself. Snowcapped mountains rose up in the background in all directions. It was beautiful here, surrounded by the tranquil chirping of birds and the whisper of the gentle river flowing beside her. All that was missing was a cozy cottage nestled beyond the pines in the sun-sprayed meadow, and a man to share it with. An old dream, yet reinvented Skylar realized, for that man now had a face.
Realizing it belonged to Tucker, she released a low groan and closed her eyes. Cursing silently, she shook her head, disappointed in herself for thinking such foolishness.
I might as well be chasing rainbows. Tucker didn't hold more than a passing interest in her, the same as he held in anything else.
Not today. She would not allow herself to think about Tucker Morgan. Wrapping the thin strip of cotton around herself, she stepped into her boots and started back to camp. Her new denims, shirt and undergarments were spread across the warming rocks and would likely take half the day to dry. Although she'd enjoyed the chance to wear something feminine, she looked forward to the freedom that came with wearing denims.
As she spotted their camp in a meadow of green grass littered with giant boulders, her eyes locked on the low-burning campfire. Expecting the fire to be extinguished, she was elated to find a source of warmth and increased her strides until she stood before the low flames. Leaning over the rising heat, she shivered as tendrils of warmth moved across her chilled skin. She splayed her hands over the currents of warm air. Boots scuffed the ground behind her. A pile of mended rope landed near her feet.
"Garret, could you grab my saddlebags?" she asked, hoping she wouldn't have to leave the fire to get her clean clothes. When he didn't respond, she turned around.
"Tucker!"
He stood a few feet away, stiff as a statue, his wide eyes riveted on her chest. Every nerve in her body jolted to full alert. Her hands flew to the top of the damp sheet precariously covering her body.
"What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"I, uh, I was... Damn if I can remember." His eyes lingered on her chest, increasing the heat in Skylar's face before he again met her gaze. "You shot my mind to hell by sashaying into camp, wearing that little bit of cotton. It's not much of a cover, Skylar." His eyes dropped back down to her chest, and lower still. "You're killin' me," he said in a hoarse whisper.
She tightened her arms around her breasts and twisted slightly away from him, salvaging what little modesty she could, while wishing she could wrap the mountainside around her. "I thought you rode to town."
Tucker drew a deep, ragged breath then turned away from her. Relief vibrated through Skylar as he strode toward their supplies. She remained by the campfire, debating whether to make a run for cover behind a boulder or risk ignoring any sense of caution and marching toward Tucker so she could retrieve her clothing.
She was surprised when Tucker returned with her saddlebags. He reached into one of the deep pockets and pulled out her old pair of denim britches and the other white camisole with pink ribbons he'd purchased for her.
"Here you are, angel girl. Cover up," he said as he tossed them to her. "Do it quick."
Tucker continued to stand there, gaping at her.
"Turn around!"
"I don't want to. You're the prettiest thing I've ever seen."
"Damn it, Tucker!" If her face burned any hotter, her skin would catch fire.
"You sure don't know how to take a compliment," he grumbled, and turned his back to her. "Your shoulder's healing up nice. When did you remove the sutures?"
"Why didn't you go to town?" she asked as she shrugged on the camisole and quickly tied the ribbons. Dropping the drying sheet, she kicked off her boots so she could pull on her pants.
"Garret was looking all down in the mouth before we set out," said Tucker. "I figured he could use a ride into town. You should have seen his eyes light up when I offered him to ride along with Chance."
"You could have alerted me to your presence."
"I would have, but Garret said you were bathing, so I didn't dare set foot anywhere near the river, and when you came back...the sight of you knocked the breath clean out of me."
She noted the rich timbre of Tucker's voice as she worked the buttons on her denims. Alarmed, she peered through the strands of her damp hair. Tucker's sharp eyes were boldly fixed on her. Her shirt was tossed over his wide shoulder. Meeting her gaze, his mouth slowly tipped up into a wry and utterly masculine smile. His eyes radiating like embers of an evergreen fire. Flutters rose up from the pit of Skylar's stomach.
"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" he asked.
She felt a sudden ache in her breasts, and shoved her hair away from her face. Her nipples strained against the thin camisole. She silently cursed
Tucker's control over her traitorous body. "You have no more decency than the devil. Give me my shirt."
Tucker flinched, appearing wounded by her words, but she recognized the glint of humor shining in those green eyes of his. "Two weeks ago you were calling me your angel and now I'm the devil?"
"I never called you my angel."
"You did, too. When we were cuddled up in bed at the doc's place, right before you kissed me. You said my smile made you dizzy."
He flashed that devastating smile of his as though trying to prove his point, and damn him, she felt it clear to her wobbly knees. "I, you...that elixir Mrs. Perkins gave me must have been some kind of brain-drainer! You can't hold me accountable for things I may have said or done while under its influence. And you kissed me first."
A thick blond eyebrow shot up as he took a step toward her. "So, you do remember."
"Hardly," she lied, the confidence in his smile increasing her nervousness and the heated swirls twisting in her belly.
"Those were some memorable kisses, Skylar," Tucker prodded, stepping toward her.
She retreated, taking a cautious step back for every step he took. "I wouldn't recall."
"You sure, honey?"
She stepped from the soft grass onto gravel and dirt, and realized she was backing up into a pile of rocks with a giant boulder at its center. "Tucker, what are you doing?"
"Bringing you your shirt, and thinking about your kisses. I've never experienced anything quite like them. Perhaps if I cuddle you a bit, I could spark your memory."
"I don't need to be cuddled by a flirtatious cowboy," she said, her voice unsteady as she bumped into the massive wall of stone behind her.
"A bit of cuddling is good for a person from time to time," he countered.
Terrified by the rush of fiery sensations crashing through her body, Skylar's heart thundered in her chest as Tucker slowly closed in on her. How could Garret desert her like this?
Her response to Tucker's presence was hard enough to control even with her little brother standing between them.
Tucker could see Skylar's pulse beating rapidly in her neck as she gazed up at him with wide eyes.
She's remembering those kisses, all right.
He'd been able to think of little else. He wanted her until his whole body ached with need, and he was sick to death of fighting it. Chance wouldn't want him to uphold a promise that would kill him to keep, and keeping his hands off this woman was slowly but surely killing him. If his brother couldn't understand that, then he'd never tasted the kiss of a woman like Skylar.
Zach Daines must have had a powerful presence to keep his cowhands from pursuing his daughter. Tucker wondered if Duce was the only man who'd risked his hide to hold Skylar. He imagined Skylar's hostile attitude discouraged such advances and figured she was mighty particular about who she permitted to get close to her. But if she'd been with a man, there was no reason they couldn't ease one another's hunger and still keep things in perspective. Skylar didn't want to be tied down any more than he did, but that didn't have to keep her from burning in his arms.
"I don't believe you've had enough cuddling in your lifetime," he said, not stopping until his boots were touching hers. She flinched as he lifted his hand to touch her cheek.
"You're afraid of me."
"I am not!"
"No?" He planted his hands on the stone wall just above her shoulders, his body all but making contact with hers. He saw fear in her eyes, heard the startled squeak that escaped her throat, yet she made no attempt to push him away. "Then what are you afraid of?"
"Nothing," she said in a whispered breath. She squared her shoulders and hardened her gaze.
A grin tugged at his mouth. She was terrified, and if she was feeling anything near the passion presently ripping through his veins, he couldn't blame her one bit.
Tucker dipped his head, brushing his cheek against hers in the lightest caress. A violent tremor shook Skylar's body, the vibrations moving clean through him. She swayed and her hands shot out, grabbing at his waist, inadvertently tugging him against the length of her body. Tucker shuddered with barely restrained desire.
"I have a confession to make," he said in a gruff whisper, passion constricting his throat. "You scare the hell out of me."
He'd never wanted anything the way he wanted her. He eased back, meeting her gaze. Skylar's eyes widened with blatant surprise.
"Tucker."
"Angel girl."
The corners of her mouth twitched with the hint of a smile, and he felt an explosion of warmth. The endearment pleased her. Dear God, how he wanted to please her. Since he'd spent the night holding her in his arms, he'd craved her smiles.
Lifting a hand, he threaded his fingers into her hair. "So soft," he said, loving the feel of the damp strands sliding through his fingers. "Golden silk. The perfect frame for such a beautiful face. You're so pretty, Skylar."
Skylar stared up at Tucker in sheer amazement, willing herself not to be moved by his words, even as her eyes felt the burn of tears.
She wasn't sure which one of them closed the distance between their mouths. The instant she felt the gentle pressure of his lips against hers, she didn't care. She only knew the sleek probing of his tongue gliding against hers helped to ease the aching of her body.
But she soon realized that like the first lick of a peppermint stick or nibble of rich, smooth chocolate, the alluring taste of Tucker only left her craving more. Like a kid cut loose in a candy store, she took it, heedlessly lapping and nibbling at his mouth as her hands feasted on the muscular ripples along his sides and back in greedy exploration.
Every touch and taste seemed to increase the insatiable hunger welling inside her. Her insides ached for something she couldn't name, until Tucker used his body to press her against the boulder. Heat shot through her in a wild torrent of sensation as he rocked his hips against hers, the solid proof of his arousal caressing her so intimately, he electrified her blood.
The sharp reality of what all his kisses were leading to sent a spike of fear across her scattered senses. She suddenly recalled the force of Randal's body pinning her to the ground, and her father's warning that the coupling between men and women was no different from the breeding of horses.
A girl didn't spend her life around horses and not witness the wild, frequently brutal act of mating.
"Tucker," she said, turning away from his kiss, determined to end this madness. But his lips only shifted course, moving down the side of her neck, distracting her, blurring reality with desire.
"Tuck, stop, I can't think when you're..."
He dusted tender kisses across her face.
Perhaps my father was wrong, she thought as Tucker's mouth again settled over hers, evaporating any thoughts of protest. Tucker wasn't anything like Randal.
He's a special kind of fire.
His long, gentle fingers caressed the back of her neck while his other hand stroked her side, steadily burning away the ugliness of life as his fiery kiss consumed her, breathing life into her soul. By the time he released her mouth, she was clinging to him, straining for clarity as her lungs strived for breath.
"Let me love you, Skylar," Tucker said, his lips pressed against her ear.
"I can't!" she gasped, panicked by his brazen request, and her body's willing response. Tucker must have been listening to her body and not her words, because in the next moment, he was kissing her again, with overwhelming intensity. The rhythmic caress of his hips pressing her against the boulder set her ablaze, the cloth barrier between them taunting her superheated flesh.
She didn't understand her body's reaction to Tucker, any more than she could deny the streams of fire coursing through her veins. She raked her fingers through his hair, needing to be closer to him, wanting everything his kiss and caress were promising. She wanted it now, before she expired from the volatile sensations swelling inside her.
"Tucker," she gasped, pulling away, not knowing how to say what she wanted.
&
nbsp; He groaned as his lips moved across her throat. "If you tell me to stop, I will. But I may lose my mind."
"Don't stop."
He reared back, his eyes wide, his chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. "I hope you're serious."
Apparently finding the answer in her gaze, his look of surprise was quickly replaced with a twisted grin. "You won't regret it, honey," he promised, and swooped her into his arms.
Skylar shrieked his name.
"Shh," he soothed, pressing his lips to hers. "I don't intend to take you against this rock and I can't make love to you here in the dirt."
Make love to me? Skylar swallowed hard as she gazed up at him, his choice of words adding to the chaos raging within her, and then he was kissing her again, dissolving everything in her mind but the taste and textures of his wonderful mouth.
A moment later she felt soft, cool grass against her back, contrasted by the warmth radiating from the man above her. She released a soft cry of protest as he pulled away. When she opened her eyes, Tucker's knees were straddling her hips, his hand reaching toward her camisole. Her breath caught as she watched him tug on the pink ribbon at her waist. Enigmatic green eyes locked with hers as his hand moved to the top ribbon.
"I've been dreaming about unwrapping and unraveling you for weeks."
She closed her eyes and held her breath, shivering as his hand pushed the thin garment aside, exposing her breasts to his gaze. "They're a nuisance," she said, annoyed by the heat she felt in her face. She gasped as he buried his face between them.
"They're heaven," he breathed against her skin.
"Tucker," she choked in a rush of air. She glanced down at the golden crown of his head as his lips brushed across the sensitive skin between her breasts. Skylar winced, every nerve ending in her body feeling exposed.
"Skylar, you are pure perfection."
Her breath caught at the sight of him looking at her body with a mixture of awe and admiration. He lowered his head, his breath dusting her breast before he flicked his tongue over the tight peak.
