The Lawman's Surrender: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 2

by Debra Mullins

  She curled her fingers into her palm. He couldn’t have made his rejection of her more evident if he had shouted the words from a mountain top. Anger and hurt simmered together in her veins, and she suddenly felt the urge to shake him free of his polite defenses.

  “Well, at least I know where I stand,” she said, noting with satisfaction the way his shoulders tensed at her haughty tone. “I’ll just stop worrying about you, Marshal Brown. Obviously, you are a man who needs no one in his life. How silly of me to forget.”

  He turned toward her as if to say something, but she presented him with her back as she marched to the wagon and dug out her heart-shaped soap from the box of supplies. As she turned back toward the water, he looked as if he intended to speak, but her icy glare froze the words on his tongue. He merely watched her with raised eyebrows as she made her way to the edge of the stream.

  She crouched down and ran her fingers through the water. She had hoped the sun would warm it, but it retained a chill from the snow-capped mountains that fed it. No doubt the water would be absolutely freezing after nightfall, but for the moment it was adequate for bathing.

  “Just what do you think you’re doing?” he asked from behind her.

  She didn’t deign to look at him as she rose. “I am planning on taking a bath, Marshal. Please have the decency to act the gentleman you proclaim yourself and turn your back while I do so.”

  Silence. Then, “You’re just gonna strip down and jump in the stream?”

  “I haven’t had a proper bath in several days, and since you refused to allow me one at the hotel last night…” She shrugged. “I do intend to keep my shift on, however.”

  “You need to keep all of it on. What if someone comes by?”

  Her response was to slip off her padding from beneath her voluminous dress and let it fall in a heap to the ground. Ignoring his disapproving scowl, she went to sit on the rock again and bent to unfasten her shoes. “Perhaps you could do some of that protecting you’re so fond of while I am indisposed,” she drawled. “I wouldn’t care for Wayne Caldwell to come upon us while I have soap in my eyes.”

  A flare of emotion crossed his face, and she hid her smile of satisfaction. Oh, he was so calm about it all. So professional. So aloof from everything but the job at hand. But somewhere inside this polite stranger was the man who had admitted his desire for her just yesterday.

  She only had to goad him into showing himself.

  “Caldwell is the least of your problems,” he said. “You’ll probably freeze in that water.”

  “I’ll survive.” She didn’t mean to look at him, but as she slid off the first shoe, she couldn’t help herself. He stood watching her with overt male interest, the coffee pot forgotten in his hand.

  “Do you suppose a weapon might be in order?” she asked pointedly. “If you meet Caldwell with a coffeepot instead of a rifle, he might take that as an invitation to stay for supper.”

  His glower satisfied her quite nicely, and she began to hum as she removed her other shoe.

  “You think this is funny, don’t you?”

  She looked up. “No, Jedidiah,” she said, slowly peeling off one stocking. “I think you’re funny.”

  “Me?”

  She couldn’t help but chuckle at his sour expression. “Yes, you. That male pride of yours is smarting because I managed to get us out of a nasty situation all by my little female self.”

  “And your female pride is getting carried away with itself.” He plunked the coffeepot down on the fire and turned to the wagon to retrieve his guns. “I just don’t want you getting cocky and putting yourself in danger.”

  “I have no intention of doing any such thing,” she replied, watching as he efficiently strapped on his guns. “At least not when I have a big, strong man like you to defend me.” She met his suspicious glance with a dulcet smile and a fluttering of her eyelashes.

  “Don’t waste your wiles on me, princess,” he grumbled. “I know you too well for that.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied, then proceeded to take off her clothes.

  The woman was trying to tempt him.

  Jedidiah held on to his control with effort as she stripped the other stocking from her shapely leg. She wouldn’t win. He was still annoyed with himself for letting her drive him into showing his frustration with the way things had gone earlier that day. Already she had caused him to snap at her. He was damned if she would make him forget himself again.

  She dropped the stocking to the ground to join the first one.

  She won’t do it, he thought, swallowing hard. Always before, she had hidden behind a bush or a rock while she changed her clothes. There was no way she would suddenly strip nearly naked in front of him after taking such pains to protect her modesty. She was trying to get at him, that was all. He recognized the glint of challenge in those gorgeous blue eyes.

  He scanned her long, smooth limbs one last time before pasting an impassive expression on his face.

  He had a job to do. They couldn’t become involved on a sexual level. It was too dangerous. He knew that.

  But as he watched her slim hands smooth over her bare legs, none of it seemed to matter. He knew she hadn’t killed a man. Those delicate fingers hadn’t wielded the knife that had ended Brick Caldwell’s life. They would find the witness, clear Susannah’s name and he would move on. That was the way it had to be.

  But when she stood and stretched, he found reason staggering beneath the force of his hunger for her. Without the padding, every swell and valley of her full-breasted body was outlined against the ugly brown woolen dress. Her pouty lips curved in a half smile that was both mysterious and female, and made him wonder what wickedness was passing through her mind. With effort, he maintained his stoic expression and crossed his arms over his chest, scanning the horizon as if searching out danger. But he watched her from the corner of his eye.

  With a mischievous arching of brows—as if she knew he was watching—she unfastened the first button of her dress.

  Siren.

  She opened another one.

  Temptress.

  Every button she flicked open showed a hint of more flawless skin, another glimpse of creamy bosom. Who was this sensual enchantress? He thought he knew all the faces of Susannah: Susannah the flirt, Susannah the stubborn, Susannah the clever. Never before had he seen this side of her, this incredibly feminine creature who exuded sensuality like a perfume that tickled his senses and tempted him to touch. To taste.

  He thought of all the times he had touched her in the course of simple courtesy. Cupping his hands to help her mount, aiding her in dismounting from her horse, taking her arm as they crossed the street together. Small touches. Intimate in a way, but with the easy distance of gallantry standing between them.

  But now, watching her slip the brown dress from her shoulders, he wanted to touch her in other ways. Ways that mattered.

  The dark wool slid over her generous bosom, down her slender arms, past her flat midriff, then caught at the curve of her hips. She made a small undulation of her pelvis, and the garment slithered down to land in a crumpled heap at her feet. Pure lust streaked through him.

  The thin lawn of her shift hid nothing from his hungry gaze—including the fact that she wore nothing beneath it. A soft evening breeze blew loose tendrils of silver-blonde hair across her face and pressed the flimsy garment to her body. Her nipples grew hard from the chill. He thought about warming them with his mouth.

  When she reached up to undo her long braid, he clenched his fists and deliberately looked away, studying the trees as if the enemy lurked there.

  “Are you shy, Marshal?”

  “Not a bit,” he replied, still not looking at her.

  “I think you are. Most men would be staring by now.”

  He tightened his jaw, knowing she was right, knowing how much he wanted to stare. “I’m not most men.”

  “That is entirely obvious, Jedidiah.”

  His name murmured in tha
t low, sultry voice of hers drew his attention despite his determination to behave like a gentleman. He looked his fill, knowing full well he shouldn’t, but unable to resist.

  She padded barefoot to the edge of the stream, her undergarment hiding little from his gaze. Lifting her shift to her knees, she cautiously tested the temperature of the water with one toe. “Oh, it’s chilly!”

  “I warned you.”

  She slanted him a look of pure coquetry, then glanced coyly away. “So you did.”

  “Susannah.”

  She whipped her head around at the husky growl that was her name. Despite himself, he feasted on the sight of her, blonde hair flowing down her back, soft breasts swelling temptingly above the embroidered neckline of her shift, long legs exposed to the knee. He indulged himself for a long moment before he raised his eyes to her face.

  “This isn’t a game.”

  “I know that.” She slowly withdrew her foot from the water and let her shift fall back into place.

  “It isn’t wise to start something right now. Distraction could get us killed.”

  “I know that, too.” She approached him slowly, her eyes half-closed with the need that pulsed between them. Her skin was flushed, lips parted.

  “I think it’s best if we both just keep our distance.”

  “We should.” She stepped closer. “But what if I don’t want to keep my distance?”

  “Then we have a problem.”

  She took another step toward him. “Then, Marshal…I’d say we have a problem.”

  Her throat captivated him. Her palms. The bend of her elbows. The delicate skin at her temple. He wanted to touch everywhere, taste everything.

  “We’ve already agreed that this is a bad idea,” he murmured, reaching for her.

  “You’re right.” She came into his embrace and rested her hands on his chest, tilting her face to his with a gleam of expectation in her eyes that he couldn’t resist.

  “Aw, hell.” Bending his head, he kissed her with a thoroughness guaranteed to make her head spin.

  She clung to his shirt as he explored her mouth with wild skill, his tongue slipping between her lips like a sleek predator in the night. He gently but firmly caressed the curve of her spine from shoulders to buttocks, pressing her to him. Her body settled along his as if she’d been molded to fit against him.

  He demanded everything with his kiss, and she gave it without hesitation. An eager moan rose in her throat when his hands cupped her buttocks and urged her closer and he deepened the kiss, expertly bringing her to a level of desire that was beyond her experience.

  He nipped at her mouth, then soothed the sting with his tongue. He tilted his head this way and that, trying new angles, exploring the recesses of her mouth from every possible direction.

  He felt her curious palms stroking over his chest. Moving his mouth to the smooth column of her throat, he reached up with one hand and tugged at the buttons of his shirt. A second later, her fingers joined his. Together they managed to open his shirt and long underwear.

  “Touch me,” he murmured, pressing his tongue against the madly beating pulse of her throat. He curled his hands around her shapely bottom and pulled her tighter into his embrace. The first tentative touch of her fingers against the bare flesh of his chest made his heart pound. “That’s it,” he murmured as her caresses grew more confident. “Stroke me. Like a big old cat.”

  She gave a breathy laugh and did as he asked, stroking her palms down his chest with just the right amount of firmness, her fingers tangling in the curling hair. He felt just like a cat for a moment. He wanted to stretch out beneath her touch and purr from the pleasure of it.

  She tugged open more buttons, continuing to explore him with curiosity. He pressed his mouth to her shoulder, nipping her there. She made a squeak of surprise, then gasped as he bent down and took one of her nipples in his mouth, right through the cloth of her shift.

  “Jedidiah.” Her body echoed the plea in her voice as she arched her back, and he suckled harder, reaching up to cup her other breast in his hand, kneading it rhythmically. “Oh, sweet Lord, what are you doing to me?”

  Something in her voice broke through the haze of passion that blinded him. She sounded as if she’d never done this before. Even the mere thought of such a possibility was enough for Jedidiah to regain control of himself.

  Reluctantly, he let her nipple slide from his mouth, watching with regret as it beaded instantly in response to the cooler air of the evening. He made himself release her other breast, instead placing his hands on her hips and easing her a step away from him. She looked at him with the light of discovery in her eyes, her skin flushed with passion. He couldn’t resist pressing one last, soft kiss against her sweet lips.

  She made a whimpering sound and tried to come back into his arms, but he managed to disentangle himself and step away.

  He was hard as a rock from wanting her, but he had to do the right thing. His code of honor demanded that he make sure she was willing before he made love to her.

  “Is this what you want?” he asked, his voice rough with passion. “You have to be sure, Susannah. I told you I can’t stay. Knowing that, do you still want to share my bedroll tonight?”

  Her eyes grew wide, and he saw the answer in her face before she ever spoke.

  “I’m sorry, Jedidiah.”

  He sucked in a deep breath. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

  She looked miserable. “I didn’t mean for things to go this far.”

  “I know. But if this isn’t what you want, then I suggest you get on with your bath and get yourself dressed.”

  She reached out a hand, then drew it back before she touched him. “Are you all right?”

  He gave her a grimace. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine in a little while once I calm down.”

  She glanced down past his waist, then jerked her gaze back up, color flooding her cheeks like crimson flags. He wondered how many aroused men she had seen. Dozens, maybe.

  The thought made him scowl. He had no doubt that a beautiful woman like Susannah had attracted a lot of men over the years. How many of them had touched her? Kissed her?

  Even though he knew he had no right to think it, the idea that there may have been someone before him chafed like a burr beneath his blanket.

  “Jedidiah?” She watched him with concern in those oh-so-innocent blue eyes. Had she looked at other men like that? Said their names like a caress?

  “You still want that bath or not?” he asked. He knew his tone was too harsh when sudden dismay crossed her face. But he couldn’t seem to stop from making a jackass of himself.

  “Yes, of course I do.”

  “Good. Let me help you.” He scooped her up. Her squeak of protest turned into a shriek as he stepped up to the edge of the bank, and dropped her into the chilly water. Then he turned his back and stalked away, ignoring the outraged shrieks that followed him.

  Chapter Eleven

  “This is ruined.”

  Jedidiah looked across the campfire at Susannah. Freshly bathed and dressed in her own shirtwaist and skirt, she calmly held up the dripping bundle that used to be her disguise. He tried to ignore the way the firelight made her skin glow like alabaster and the way her drying hair glittered like strands of silver. Calling on every vestige of his famed self-control, he focused his attention on the soaking garments.

  “What happened to that?” he asked.

  “It got knocked in the water when you…when I went in.”

  Her tone was calm, her eyes determined. Obviously, she was going to pretend that the past hour—especially their embrace—had never happened. He wished he could forget as easily.

  He wasn’t very pleased with the way he had lost control and thrown her in the stream. He was a grown man, not a green boy jealous of his sweetheart making eyes at another. He was a professional, a lawman, and he shouldn’t have given into his temper like that.

  As for the passionate embrace, although he should
feel some chagrin about it, he couldn’t. No, it wasn’t wise to become physically involved with his charge, but they were both human beings, and these things sometimes happened—though it had never happened to him before. He found it was easier to deal with if he looked at it philosophically. He had made the offer, and she had refused it. There was no reason to feel guilty about it. As long as he didn’t dwell on how right she felt in his arms, or on the uncomfortable emotions that sprang to life whenever she came near him, he would be able to treat the whole thing casually.

  To prove it to himself, he rose and crossed to her, noting how she tensed when he came near. For a moment, shame made him hesitate. Had his conduct frightened her? That would never do, if she were to trust him enough to get her out of this.

  Then her gaze dropped to his mouth, and he realized from the sensual expression softening her face that she wasn’t afraid of him at all. His body responded eagerly to her sweet look of desire, but he ruthlessly quelled his baser instincts.

  Simply because of his age, he knew that he had to be the more experienced one. It was up to him to set the tone of their association from now on. She had made it clear that she wasn’t interested in a physical relationship. He had to respect that, no matter how many hungry glances she gave him.

  “Will it dry out?” He took the padding from her hands. The cotton-stuffed pillow that had made up her false pregnancy was wet clear through. Already he could smell the musty scent of the stream that clung to the cotton, and the seams looked like they would give way at any second.

  “I don’t think so,” she responded. “That thing is ruined.”

  “What about the bonnet?” he asked, keeping his gaze on the wet material as she moved a step closer. The smell of her rose-scented soap made him wonder if this woman had been born knowing how to drive a man to distraction.

  “The bonnet is fine,” she was saying. “It was by the fire when the rest of this got wet.”

  “All right.” He shoved the gown back at her. “Wear the bonnet with your regular clothes. I’ll think of something else for when we come to the next town.”