Shameless

by Joan Johnston

  His hands trailed down her spine and then back up to her shoulders as he held her close and kissed her deeply. Devon was on fire for her, but he knew he had to slow down and allow her to catch up. He broke the kiss and saw her eyes were half lidded, her lips full, and realized she was not the least bit behind him.

  Still, he wanted to relish what was finally his. He tugged off the wool shirt she was wearing, then skinned the T-shirt off over her head, gasping at what he found.

  Her small breasts were pink-tipped rosebuds waiting to be plucked. He lowered his head and took one in his mouth.

  Her fingers clutched his hair, and she made a growling sound of pleasure in her throat as her body arched toward his. She was grasping at his shirt, trying to get it off, and he released her long enough to tear off both his wool shirt and long john shirt before pulling her naked body close. The friction of flesh against flesh was exquisite, and he kissed her again, tasting the sweetness and the goodness of her.

  Her fingernails raked their way down his back, raising gooseflesh, until she finally slid her hands into the back of his Levi’s.

  He freed himself from her grasp and began yanking off his cowboy boots, which he had to rid himself of in order to get his jeans off. She laughed at him, sitting down on the bed to accomplish the same thing—she was wearing a pair of Australian boots—with a lot more grace. He had both boots off, his belt buckle undone, and was unzipping his Levi’s when he happened to glance at her face and saw an expression that stopped him in his tracks.

  “Pippa? Are you all right?”

  The look on her face was so odd he felt cold inside. He sat down beside her, taking her hand in his. “What’s wrong? Tell me. I want to help.”

  She sobbed once, then said, “There’s no help for what’s wrong with me.”

  He stared at her, aghast. “Are you sick? Are you dying? What is it?”

  “I’m…” She swallowed hard, then scrunched up her face and said, “I’m an idiot.”

  “You’re not dying?”

  She managed a laugh as she swiped at the tears on her face. “No. But you’re going to want to kill me, stopping like this before we really got started.”

  He pulled her onto his lap, holding her close, aware that he was, in fact, in a very painful condition. “I’m just glad you’re not sick or dying or something. Can you tell me what happened?”

  She gave a pitiful shrug. “I just…I guess I’m not as ready for this as I thought,” she said at last. “I’m sorry, Devon.”

  Devon gritted his teeth against the pain caused by the interruption of their lovemaking. He had no one to blame but himself. He’d pushed and she’d yielded. He still wanted her, but she was no longer willing.

  “Let’s get you back into some clothes.” That would help him resist the urge to reach out and touch again. He stood, dumping her onto the bed, and searched until he found her T-shirt on the floor. Instead of handing it to her, he said, “Arms up!”

  She uncrossed the arms that were hiding her naked breasts and held them up so that he could slide the shirt over her head. He quickly tugged it down once her arms were in the sleeves, trying not to look at what he found so tempting. He grabbed her wool shirt from the foot of the bed and held it so she could put her arms in the sleeves. Then he buttoned it up. Better safe than sorry, he thought.

  Once she was dressed, he sought out his own long john shirt and slipped it over his head, before snapping his jeans, rebuckling his belt, and pulling his boots back on.

  All the while, his mind was racing. What had caused her to have second thoughts? Had he done something to trigger memories of her love affair gone wrong? Or was she simply afraid of whatever hurt or heartbreak might ensue from making love to a man she hardly knew, a man she had no reason to believe wanted more than the pleasure they could give and take from each other in bed.

  It was his fault this had happened. She’d warned him to keep his distance, and he’d rushed her into bed—or almost into bed—anyway. His heart was set on having her for his mate. He just had to convince her to stay long enough to give him time to win her heart.

  The only problem was, he had no idea how to make that happen. He’d never tried to make a woman love him. He’d never wanted to before now. But it was clear that if he wanted Pippa to hang around long enough for him to woo her, he needed to figure it all out.

  Chapter 17

  WHEN DEVON HAD begun making love to her, desire had risen in Pippa like a dangerous, many-headed hydra, blinding her to everything except the pleasure to be had in his embrace. She hadn’t realized just how cheated she’d been by Tim’s lovemaking until Devon began kissing and caressing her. With Tim, the focus had been on what she could do to satisfy him. With Devon, every touch seemed to be aimed at increasing her joy.

  The amazing thing was, from the avid look in Devon’s eyes and his guttural sounds of delight, it appeared that pleasing her seemed to bring him a great deal of pleasure as well.

  Pippa had been lost in a well of sensation from the first touch of his lips, and when he’d sucked on her breast—something Tim had never done—she’d thought she would swoon. Making love with Devon was a more sensual experience than she could ever have imagined. No wonder she’d forgotten that there was a very good reason why she shouldn’t be taking her clothes off in front of him.

  She’d been holding a boot with both hands, ready to pull it off, when she’d felt that feathery touch inside, reminding her what Devon would see if she stripped herself bare. With a body as lean as hers, she had a definite “baby bump” he was sure to notice when her belly was pressed against his. He wasn’t an idiot. He would wonder. And he would ask questions to satisfy his curiosity. And then what would she say?

  At that moment, Pippa realized how irrevocably one mistake had changed her life. She was not at all convinced Devon would be willing to raise another man’s son. Yes, he rescued wounded animals and nursed them back to health. But he never got attached to them. And as soon as they were well he sent them back where they belonged. That pattern of behavior suggested that Devon was short on long-term commitments. Like raising a child that wasn’t his.

  Pippa knew she should have told Devon from the beginning that any relationship with her involved a small additional package. She hadn’t because she’d never expected to get romantically involved with him. But he’d been persistent, and she’d found herself wanting his kisses and his touches. Until she’d reached the point today where she’d foolishly allowed the situation to get completely out of hand, knowing full well that the longer she kept her secret, the longer she deceived Devon, the more angry and unforgiving he was liable to be when she finally revealed she was pregnant.

  She’d been shocked to realize that she couldn’t bear to tell Devon the truth—and she couldn’t bear to walk away. What kind of person did that make her? Was she really willing to take such unfair advantage of him? He might have forgiven her if she’d told him her secret from the start. But how betrayed was he going to feel when he found out that she’d misled him all along?

  The situation would be coming to a head soon, one way or another, because her pregnancy wasn’t something she would be able to hide for much longer, even with her clothes on.

  Pippa regretted stopping Devon, because now she might never know what it felt like to join her body with his. But guilt—and the fear that her secret would be revealed in such an embarrassing way—had made it impossible for her to go on.

  Wulf howled outside the bedroom door, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. It was a truly eerie sound, which Devon had told her upset the horses in the barn and the recuperating animals in their cages. He crossed to the bedroom door and let the wolf in.

  Wulf came straight to her and stuck his cold nose in her hand. Pippa brushed her palm down his back, soothing his ruffled fur.

  “I’m going to finish up that cocoa,” Devon said. “I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

  His voice had sounded curt. Or maybe it was the remorse s
he felt that caused her to interpret it that way. He walked out, leaving her alone with the wolf.

  Pippa nuzzled against Wulf’s fur, and he licked her face. She sat up and said, “Yes, I know you were worried about me. I’m all right. Let’s go help Devon with that cocoa.”

  She wasn’t going to hide in the bedroom. She needed to talk to Devon and see whether, after what had just happened, he still wanted her to stay.

  She hesitated in the bedroom doorway, and he must have sensed her presence, because he turned from the stove to look at her.

  “If it’s still open, I’ve decided to accept your offer to stay,” she announced. “At least for a little while longer.”

  The slight frown between his eyes made her wonder if he’d changed his mind. At last he said, “I’m glad.” But he didn’t sound glad. He sounded troubled. He turned back to the stove, hiding his face—and his feelings—from her. “This is about done,” he said. “Grab some cups for us.”

  Neither of them said anything more until they had their cups of cocoa in hand and were settled in chairs before the fireplace. Pippa realized Devon must have heaped more wood on the fire after he’d left the bedroom, because the flames rose high and fierce. The combination of the heat from the roaring fire and the hot cocoa seemed to warm the cold place inside her.

  Devon, who was sitting in the rocker, leaned back and said, “Since you’re planning to stay, what would you say to coming with me to an event I need to attend at Kingdom Come on Saturday.”

  Pippa felt apprehensive at the thought of meeting up with her father. “What event is that?”

  “A barbecue and dance.”

  Pippa made a face. She wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. But she owed Devon a great deal, and he obviously wanted her along to share the day with him. “You’re definitely planning to go?”

  “Along with my whole family.”

  Pippa gasped. “The Flynns are attending an event at my grandfather’s ranch?”

  Devon grinned. “Yep. Your father agreed to host the event, and your aunt Leah is helping to organize it. Aiden, Brian, Connor and his family, and my father will all be there—along with just about every local rancher and businessman in town. Fur and feathers are sure to fly. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “It sounds like it might turn into a free-for-all,” Pippa said doubtfully. “Who set this up?”

  “My sister-in-law.” Devon paused and met her gaze. “I think that’s the first time I’ve said that word. It’s still hard to believe Connor’s married, it happened so suddenly. They just went to the justice of the peace in town without inviting any of us to come. I guess that’s what makes it so hard to believe his marriage is real.”

  “None of my aunts were invited either,” Pippa said. “After all the stories I’d heard about the two families hating each other, I was shocked to learn that a Grayhawk had married a Flynn.”

  Devon snickered. “So were we. My brothers and I decided to commemorate the astonishing event—never likely to be repeated—by holding a shivaree.”

  “A shivaree?”

  “It’s an old frontier custom. We turned up at Connor’s ranch and made a lot of noise, with the object of interrupting the wedding night. Unfortunately, not only did Aiden, Brian, and I show up, but Leah, Taylor, and Victoria made an appearance—to offer best wishes to the bride and groom.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  Devon chuckled. “Uh-oh is right. Connor and Eve made the mistake of inviting all of us inside to quiet us down, since we were scaring Connor’s kids. Needless to say, a number of insults got thrown, along with at least one punch—Connor took exception when Brian slighted the bride—before we all left.

  “I think I was the only person present who thought Connor and Eve have a chance of making it. Then again, I’m probably the only one who realized how badly he was smitten with her in high school. Anyway, he met Molly—she was Eve’s best friend—and that was the end of that.”

  “Molly’s the woman he married?”

  Devon nodded. “As far as I’m concerned, Connor and Eve are star-crossed lovers who’ve finally managed to find their way to each other. It’s supposedly a marriage of convenience, but I think both of them care a lot more for each other than either one is admitting.”

  Pippa quickly swallowed the sip of hot cocoa she’d just taken in order to ask, “How can you know that?”

  “Eve was the one who arranged this barbecue and dance at Kingdom Come. She did it to raise funds to support Connor’s ranch.”

  “His ranch is failing? I thought Angus was almost as rich as my grandfather. Can’t Connor borrow some money from him?”

  “My father cut Connor off when he refused to divorce Eve.”

  “Divorce her? They just got married!”

  Devon made a disgruntled sound in his throat. “He doesn’t want any Flynn offspring being polluted with King Grayhawk’s blood.”

  “Oh.” Pippa felt a shiver run down her spine. If Devon’s father was that controlling, what was he liable to say—or do—when he found out that Devon was supporting an unwed pregnant Grayhawk woman.

  “Besides,” Devon continued. “Safe Haven is no ordinary ranch. Connor set it up with his trust fund as a retreat where veterans can enjoy a little rest and relaxation before they return to duty.”

  “That sounds wonderful!” Then she realized the problem. “Oh, I see. Your father took away Connor’s trust fund.”

  “Yep.” Devon blew on his cocoa and then took a sip, licking at the melted marshmallow that stuck to his lips. “That’s what this barbecue is all about. Folks who come are being asked to give what they can to help keep Safe Haven up and running. Aiden convinced all of us to throw in some cash, and I don’t know how he did it, but he also convinced my father to show up to support Connor—even though he’s opposed to Connor’s marriage.”

  “I can see why you don’t want to miss it.” Pippa sighed. “I guess this is as good a time as any to meet up with my father again.” She managed a wobbly smile and said, “My reunion with him should pale in comparison to the fireworks when Angus meets up with King.”

  Chapter 18

  MATT WISHED THERE were some way he could simply shiver his flesh, like some old bull swarmed by flies, and have all his troubles fly away. He’d been in hell for the past month. There was no worse feeling for a father than knowing he’d failed to protect his child. All he’d ever wanted was to ease Pippa’s burden, but she kept insisting it was a burden she was willing to carry. Finally, he’d pressed too hard for her to do what he thought was best, and she’d bolted. He blamed himself for that, too.

  When he’d found out his daughter was staying with Devon Flynn, he’d been ready to drive over there like a bat out of hell and haul her back home. A warning from Leah had changed his mind.

  “Pippa wouldn’t take off like that without a good reason. I know it hasn’t been easy for her here. If you go after her and bring her back, she’ll likely run again. Next time she’ll go farther and hide better. At least you know she’s safe with Devon. Give her time, and she’ll work through whatever it is that’s troubling her.”

  Matt hadn’t meant to blurt “She’s pregnant!” but the words were out before he could stop them.

  Leah didn’t look entirely surprised, and Matt figured Pippa’s nausea at odd times and naps in the afternoon might have given her away—at least to Leah, who seemed more perceptive to the feelings of others, likely because she was used to watching out for her sisters.

  “I presume the father’s out of the picture,” Leah said.

  “The bastard didn’t tell her he was married.”

  “I’m so sorry, Matt. For you and for Pippa.”

  He scrubbed at eyes scratchy from lack of sleep. “I’ve been asking her to consider adoption. Maybe pushing too hard to get her to consider it.”

  “I see. And she wants to keep the baby?”

  Matt nodded.

  “And you have a problem with that?”

  “I’ve been
a teenage single parent. I know how hard it can be.”

  Leah’s eyes widened a little in recognition of what he was admitting.

  “She shouldn’t be living so far from a hospital,” Matt continued. “Hell, I have no idea whether she’s even seen a doctor for a checkup.”

  “Pippa’s a smart girl. She’ll do what’s necessary to take care of herself and the baby. And Devon will watch out for her.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Matt muttered.

  Leah lifted a brow. “Devon is your uncle’s son. That practically makes him family. Do you really think he would do anything to harm Pippa?”

  What Leah said made sense, but Matt wasn’t consoled. As far as Devon was concerned, his relationship to Pippa was distant enough to qualify him as a “kissin’ cousin.” Devon had been a kid the last time Matt had spent any time with him, but Matt had heard plenty of stories about “those awful Flynn boys” raising hell and causing trouble. He was leery of what a grown-up Devon, about whom he knew little or nothing, might do with—or to—his daughter.

  Matt rubbed at the lines of worry on his brow and said, “Pippa’s vulnerable.”

  “You don’t think she’s learned from her mistake?”

  He made a frustrated sound in his throat. “I don’t know. I just don’t want her getting hurt again.”

  “Mistakes are how we grow,” Leah said.

  Leah’s voice had been both wistful and sad. Matt wondered what painful mistake—or mistakes—Leah had made that had caused her to grow into the generous, unselfish person she was.

  “That doesn’t give me much comfort,” he said at last.

  “Trust me. Give her time and space. She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

  He’d done as Leah suggested, even sending a hired hand to deliver the items Pippa had asked for, rather than taking them himself to make sure with his own eyes that his daughter was all right. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d stopped himself from getting into his truck, driving over to Devon Flynn’s place, and hauling her home.