by Stacey Kayne
He laid her on the mattress and moved over her. "Then why are you here?"
"Because you're making me want you! So you can at least do something about it."
"I think—"
"I don't want to think, Tucker. You win," she breathed against his lips.
Her whispered words stopped him cold.
I win? Chance's warning of Skylar feeling defeated played back in his mind. Tucker braced himself up with his arms, meeting her gaze.
"I don't want to win. You're not here because I won."
"It doesn't matter."
"Yes, it does."
Her slender golden eyebrows pinched together in annoyance. "Would you shut up and love me?"
Tucker pushed further up with his arms. "No."
She blinked with surprise. "No?"
"Not until you smile."
Her wide blue eyes stared up him.
"Smile for me, honey." He laughed as her expression hardened with a frown. She had a stubborn streak a mile wide, which happened to drive him wild.
"No!"
Tucker arched an eyebrow. "Oh, I think I know a way to make you smile."
Skylar's gaze turned wary. "What are you doing? Tucker/" Her sharp laughter pierced the air as his fingers tickled her sides.
"I knew you'd be ticklish," he crooned, her clawing hands not slowing his fingers from wiggling into her sides.
"Stop it!" she shrieked as they thrashed across the bed, both of them laughing.
"Admit you like my company!"
"No!" she managed to squeak out through her wild laughter.
"You can't get enough of me," he added.
Skylar screamed and tried to jerk away from him, sending them both over the side of the bed. Tucker twisted, taking the impact of the fall. Skylar landed on top of him, her cheeks flushed, her smile bright, her eyes sparkling with laughter. He pushed her soft clean hair away from her face, tucking the silken strands behind her ears.
"So beautiful," he said, his own smile aching in his cheeks.
"You don't fight fair, Morgan."
"That's because I'm not fighting at all, angel girl. Do you like the gown?" he asked, running his finger across the flowery collar.
Her lips blossomed into a shy smile, and his chest expanded with a sudden rush of warmth. Lord, he loved this side of her.
"Yes, I like it. But I don't like you buying me things."
"I enjoy it," he said, and it was true. He'd never found so much pleasure in giving gifts to someone. "I like making you smile. Did it make you smile?"
Skylar visibly stiffened. "I never know what to expect from you," she said in a strained voice, her eyes slowly hazing with tears. "I don't usually like surprises."
"I believe you just said you like me."
"No, I didn't," she argued, even as her lips stretched into a grin. "I said I like your surprises." Her hands moved down his body, scattering his thoughts in a torrent of fiery sensation.
Tucker retaliated by tugging on her gown, bunching fabric at her waist as his hands slid beneath to her smooth skin. He caressed her back, then slid his hands lower, and was shocked when his fingers curved around the smooth skin of her bare bottom.
"Hell, Sky. You're naked under there!"
She pushed her hands against his chest, rising to meet his gaze. "Aren't I supposed to be?"
Tucker couldn't fight his laughter, seeing the true concern in her eyes. "Hell yes, you're supposed to be," he said, not having a clue as to what women deemed proper for bedtime attire, but damn sure any man would agree with his answer. To prove his point, he tugged on Skylar's hips, gliding the slick folds of her feminine core across the hard length of his arousal. Skylar trembled as pleasure speared Tucker's body. He shifted her hips again, repeating the intimate caress. Skylar whimpered, clutching at his chest.
"Tucker," she gasped, "the bed."
He sucked in a deep gasp of air, struggling to slow the beat of his heart hammering against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and stood.
If Skylar wanted to be loved in a bed, he'd damn well love her in a bed, and take his time doing so.
Some time later, her head resting on the pillow of Tucker's arm, Skylar listened to his steady breathing. Lamplight glimmered like tiny streaks of gold across the patch of hair with each rise and fall of his chest. She couldn't close her eyes, too aware of his damp skin pressed against hers, his long fingers twisted in her hair, and his other hand resting heavily on her hip.
Somehow, just lying with him like this seemed far more intimate than the intense lovemaking they'd just shared. She knew she should go back to her own room, but couldn't summon the energy or the will to leave the warm security of Tucker's arms. As much as she yearned to give in to this state of bliss he so easily put her in, she knew she shouldn't. She was only a temporary fancy.
She smoothed her hand up Tucker's bronze arm to his wide shoulder, wanting to believe that it was the same for her. She'd be a fool to allow herself to fall in love with Tucker Morgan.
Her fingers raked across his strong chest, stopping over the steady beat of his heart. It's just physical, she told herself. Smiling sadly, she tilted her face up and pressed her lips against Tucker's sharp jaw, and silently called herself a liar.
"You keep that up and we won't be getting any sleep."
"I should go back to my room."
"No." His arms tightened around her. "Let me hold you."
He hadn't given a command. She could easily pull away from his embrace, but as he hugged her against his warm body and pressed his lips to her forehead, she didn't want to move. He released a deep contented sigh as she continued to lie quietly in his arms.
Tucker shifted as he reached toward the lamp beside the bed and turned down the wick, surrounding them in darkness. He instantly folded her back into his strong embrace. Skylar nestled against him, and again reminded herself that this closeness between them was only temporary. She was one of many women in Tucker's life. Amanda Lowery had been testimony of that.
The thought of the pristine young widow sent an ache twisting through her heart.
She wished she was like Tucker, able to separate physical intimacy from emotional intimacy, but she wasn't.
She was a fool.
Tucker shifted in his sleep and stretched his arm out beside him, searching for the warm, smooth skin he'd cradled against his body throughout the night. When his hand found nothing but the cold mattress, his eyes popped open.
"Skylar?"
Even as he called her name, he knew she wasn't in the room.
What had he expected? What the hell was he doing?
"Hell if I know," he muttered, and sat up in the twisted tangle of sheets. Digging his fingers into his hair, he hunched forward and dropped his elbows on his raised knees. He squinted as he leaned into a bright ray of light streaming in from between the window coverings. What time was it?
Judging by the warm glow coming from the window, he'd missed sunrise by an hour or more. He rubbed at his eyes, wondering why Skylar hadn't woken him. But then he supposed he knew why.
She didn't want to face the fact that she'd come to him. Not that he hadn't done his damnedest to make sure that happened. Hadn't that been his reason for dining her and giving her the gown?
He wanted to believe it was, but in truth, he never fathomed she would actually come to his room. Skylar's resistance to his advances tested his confidence, an obstacle he'd never faced in his dealings with women.
Perhaps that's the reason my attraction to her is so damn strong.
Skylar was a challenge, and he always enjoyed a challenge. Whenever life became routine and mundane, he never hesitated in changing course to stir things up. Skylar was about as predictable as a loose cannon, and if he had simply wanted company for the night, he could have easily found another willing woman.
During the short time he'd been in Marie's restaurant, he exchanged glances with a few attractive women who'd flashed him a welcoming smile, yet the thought of bedding any
of those women hadn't appealed to him in the slightest. All he could think about was getting back to the wild woman who'd wanted nothing more than to kick him out of her room. He had worked his butt off to put himself back in Skylar's good favor. Marie hadn't relinquished her good china, fine food and fresh flowers without a great deal of groveling on his part, and he'd bought that gown from Miss Kelley, hoping he'd come upon just such an occasion to give it to Skylar. Hell, if he didn't know any better, he'd think he was courting his wife.
"Shit." Tucker yanked at the sheets tangled around his legs and swung his feet to the cold wooden floor. He had to stop doing that, referring to Skylar as his wife.
No woman was worth that lifetime penance.
They were lovers, plain and simple. He reached for the pants piled on the floor, where he'd kicked them off the night before. He quickly pulled them on and walked toward the dresser and snatched up his shirt. Shoving his arms into the sleeves, he reminded himself he'd never held an interest in any woman for more than a few days.
Yet he couldn't deny that loving Skylar was nothing like his past relations with other women. With Skylar, each time was different. Each time was better. She consumed him so completely, he couldn't get the feel of her smooth skin out of his mind, her taste from his mouth.
And at this very moment, she was undoubtedly denying he had any such effect on her, when he'd seen the proof in her passion-filled eyes. He wasn't about to settle for her stern indifference.
Tucker quickly finished dressing, tugged on his boots, grabbed his saddlebags and started for the door. If Skylar thought he'd accept her cold-shoulder treatment, she had another think coming.
Finding her room empty, he headed to the livery, hoping she hadn't left him to ride back alone. He approached Mr. Cobb, the white-bearded man who ran the livery, and a few of his stable hands standing outside the large barn.
"Your woman's inside," said Cobb, nodding toward the open doors of the livery. Tucker didn't miss the grins tugging at the mouths of the other men. He glanced past Mr. Cobb and saw Skylar standing beside her black stallion, tightening the cinch of her saddle, and dressed in her dusty denims, flannel shirt and work coat. My woman.
That didn't sound so bad.
He handed Cobb the money he owed him and went inside. The chestnut Arabian was tethered beside Skylar's black stallion. Both were saddled and ready to go. Judging by Skylar's stiff movements as she tightened the binding holding the pack behind her saddle, she was aware of his presence. Yet she didn't offer him any type of greeting.
"Good morning," he said, fighting not to reveal his irritation.
Skylar drew a deep, silent breath, struggling with the lump that formed in her throat the moment she spotting Tucker crossing the street toward the livery. "Morning," she replied, keeping her back to him. After fretting for over an hour, she still wasn't ready to face him. "If you've paid the livery master we can get out of here."
She continued tying down the supplies she'd taken the liberty of buying. When Tucker didn't respond and she didn't sense any movement behind her, Skylar looked back at him. She noticed he hadn't taken time to shave. His stubble-coated jaw was tight, his stance wide, his arms crossed over his chest. Irritation burned in his eyes as he continued to stand there, silently staring at her as though she'd somehow offended him.
"What?" she muttered when she could stand no more of his silence.
"I don't like this cycle we've gotten into. I don't expect you to throw your arms around me and smother me with kisses. Just to be civil, friendly. What do you say we give that a try?"
The painful tension in Skylar's body tightened. She didn't know if she could. The problem was, from the moment she'd spotted his gilded hair in the morning sunlight and watched his long leisurely strides as he walked toward the livery, she wanted to throw her arms around him and smother him with kisses. Even now, she ached to reach out and touch him.
A smile curved his lips as he walked toward her and Skylar had to suppress a wince. How could she be nice to him and suppress the rush of emotion she felt whenever he looked at her like that He was making her soft. She never should have stayed in town with him.
"Com'ere," he said, holding out his hand.
Skylar stepped into his embrace. She sighed as his arms closed around her, a mixture of relief and exhilaration flooding her body.
"What's this?" he asked, easing back. His hand slipped inside her coat, tugging at the folded paper sticking out from the inside pocket.
"Newspaper. Garret needs some new reading material."
"You've been busy this morning," he said, nodding toward her saddle.
"When I picked your shirt up from the floor, a pouch of money fell from the pocket." She shrugged her shoulders. "We were in need of a few things." Skylar dug her hand into her pants pocket. Retrieving the leftover coins, she held them up. "You really shouldn't keep such large sums of money in your shirt pocket."
Tucker smiled and pulled her back against the length of his body, ignoring the money in her hand as he brushed a light kiss across her lips. "You sound like Chance. Just tell me you got a receipt. He's worse than a harping wife if he can't document everything in his damn ledgers."
Tucker's lips moving softly over hers didn't hold back the sadness that crept into Skylar's heart. In Tucker's mind there was nothing worse than being bound to a wife. She was putting her trust in another illusion. No matter how badly she wanted him, it would never be enough. Tucker would never want her for a wife.
She had to distance herself from him.
Tomorrow; she told herself as she allowed Tucker's tender kiss and gentle embrace to ease her pain, filling the emptiness of her heart. Tomorrow I'll end it.
Within the space of a breath, she wasn't concerned about anything beyond returning Tucker's kiss.
Chapter 20
By the time Skylar made it to the top of the cliff a bright orange sun was cresting the eastern rise of mountains. Having left Zarad at the base of the hill, she'd climbed the giant pile of dirt and rocks, needing a good clear view of the surrounding area. When she stepped to the edge of the massive stone, she saw that she'd found it. She could see for miles. A number of valleys ran between low-range mountains, many of which Randal could be traveling through.
She should have scouted for Randal a few days back, but this was the first time she'd been able to leave camp before dawn without Tucker following her. In the past few days she'd discovered that long kisses and muffled laughter were an enjoyable way to start off a day. She thoroughly enjoyed every second of her time alone with Tucker.
That's beside the point! her better judgment shot back; a voice she'd been ignoring in the past few days. Tucker was a distraction, not to mention a bad influence. If she was going to get her mustangs back she had to stay focused.
Reaching into the deep pocket of her coat, she pulled out her father's spyglass. Lifting the brass scope she began scanning the valley farthest to the west, knowing he'd be coming from that direction. Although, even if she did spot Randal, she didn't know how she'd get her horses back on her own. She prayed Duce and the others were well, and could assist her.
In the last few days she'd discussed the possibility of running into Randal with Tucker. He'd even brought it up with Chance. Both seemed confident that Randal would beat them to Wyoming, but that their ranch hands could handle him.
Their lack of concern annoyed her. If they were plotting any strategies for dealing with Randal, she wasn't being included in their plans. Neither had mentioned paying her for her mustangs, should they manage to recover them.
They have their agenda, and I have mine, she reminded herself. If it came to that, she'd have to pray that Duce and the others still loyal to her would stand behind her.
Her mouth twisted into a frown as her gaze swept over the next valley, seeing no signs of rising smoke that would give away a large camp.
Hearing an approaching rider, Skylar lowered her scope and glanced down toward the base of the hill. She spotted Tucker
as he rode into the clearing below. He stopped beside her horse and stepped down from his saddle.
"Skylar, where are you?" he called, glancing toward the cliffs. His lips stretched in a wide smile when he spotted her. "There you are. What are you doing up here?"
"Just scouting the passes," she said as she stepped down from one slab of rock to another.
"Watch the sunrise with me." He leaped onto a boulder and started toward her.
"The sun is right behind you, Tucker. We should get back. Garret and Chance should be up by now."
Tucker continued climbing up the rocky cliff and pulled her into his arms. Skylar sighed as his hand caressed her back.
"I can't argue with you when you're holding me like this."
"I know," he said, his smiling lips pressing against her ear. "Why did you sneak away from camp this morning?"
She tensed, surprised by his whispered question. "I didn't sneak away."
Tucker eased back. His steady gaze showed he didn't believe her. "Honey, a shadow leaves more of a trail than you did, so either you're playing hard to get or you were trying to elude me."
"You found me," she pointed out, kissing his smooth, recently shaven chin.
"I'm a damn good tracker."
Obviously. Fresh out of excuses, Skylar leaned up and pressed her lips to his, a distraction that turned out to be enjoyable for both of them. He tasted of coffee and smelled of clean, rich shaving lather—a delightful combination.
"So, show me what you were looking at." Taking her hand, he stepped around her and led her back up the stairs of stone. "Would you look at all that color," he said, his voice filled with awe as he reached the top. "Beautiful."
Skylar smiled, watching his emerald eyes shine with appreciation as he took in the vast landscape. Following his gaze, she realized he was right. The variety of seasonal changes was beautiful The deep aspen-lined valleys looked like channels laden with gold and copper woven beneath the surrounding evergreen forests. The higher ranges, covered with snow-dusted pines, led up to brilliant snowcapped peaks that glistened in the morning sunlight.
