Pain drew the skin taut across his face. His cheekbones stood out in sharp relief. Looking, for one long heartbreaking moment as though he would’ve done anything to change the outcome, he announced simply, angrily, “The baby died, too.”
MAGGIE GASPED softly, in a combination of horror at what he’d been through, and shared pain. She had imagined a bitter, ugly divorce. Or a runaway wife who’d taken his baby with her, too. But not this. Never this. And then she knew. The cowboy that Sabrina’d seen in her crystal ball, the cowboy who had been lingering outside the fence that surrounded two graves, had been Jake.
Sabrina had told her that he’d have to mend his broken heart before he could love again. It was up to Maggie to help him do that. She had never wanted anything more than to help him recover.
“Oh, Jake—” she said softly, her heart going out to him all over again, for all he had suffered, and was not yet over. She was beginning to understand at long last why he worked so hard to keep others at bay.
“Are you satisfied now?” he retorted angrily. Looking more hurt and upset than she had ever seen him, he shouldered rudely past her.
Maggie grabbed his arm, knowing the hardest things to face were also the most critical, knowing it was imperative he do so now, before any more time elapsed. He looked down at her hand, where it curved around his biceps, and she knew he was silently debating whether or not to jerk his arm away. She glanced up into his eyes and saw the resentment.
Slowly, she released her hold on him. Stepped back. But did not—would not—give up. “Are the deaths of your wife and child the reason you don’t want to marry again?”
Jake stiffened involuntarily, his broad shoulders straining against the Harris tweed blazer and blue cotton shirt. “I had it all once, and that is more than most people ever get.”
“So,” Maggie retorted, a little angrily, “you’re not willing to risk anything?” Not even for us and what we might have if you’d only let us?
“Not in my personal life, no, I’m not,” Jake growled, looking even more provoked.
Again he started past her, and again Maggie blocked his path. She planted both hands on her hips, and told him sternly, “You’re a fool if you never allow yourself to love, Jake.”
He looked down at her, his sensual lips curving into a cynical, warning smile. “And you, Maggie, are playing with fire.”
Ignoring the shivers of reaction ghosting down her spine, she spread her palms wide in a beseeching gesture. “Don’t you see you have to let go of your grief?”
Jake’s jaw tightened. He looked past her, toward the other end of the darkened attic. His expression was thunderous again. “Back off, Maggie.”
Easier said than done, she thought defiantly. “I can’t back off, not when I see you hurting as much as you obviously are.” She paused, searching with all her heart for a way to get through to him, to bring him out of the heartache-filled past and into the possibilityfilled future. “Don’t you understand, Jake?” she continued softly, persuasively. “I have to comfort you. I want to comfort you.”
Jake slanted her a dark, assessing glance. “The only kind of comfort I want is this,” he said, hauling her against him. Before Maggie could do much more than gasp her astonishment, his mouth fused with hers, his tongue hungrily forced her lips open. Angry at the way he was treating her, at the way he was using sex to drive them apart, instead of bring them together, she flattened her palms against his shoulders and shoved with all her might.
Which was, she decided in chagrin mere seconds later, exactly what he had wanted her to do all along.
“You see, Maggie?” Jake said roughly, dropping his hands, victoriously stepping back. “I’m not what you want. I’m not what you need.”
Nor, Maggie thought, deeply disappointed and even more hurt, did he want to be.
“Now get out of here,” Jake continued gruffly, refusing to meet her eyes and turning away.
Once again, Maggie calculated the odds and squared off with him like a boxer entering the ring. “Like hell I will,” she retorted. “You listen to me, Jake MacIntyre, and you listen good.” She grabbed his shirtfront, crumpling the starched fabric in her fist, and forced him to face her. “If anyone is going to be the judge of what I need, it’s going to be me.”
Chapter Ten
Jake looked down at the grip she had on his shirt, then stuck his hands in his pockets and regarded her with an unsmiling expression. “You are one stubborn woman,” he accused softly.
Her hands tightening on his shirt, Maggie defiantly held his gaze and stood her ground. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
Which was, Jake thought, exactly what he was afraid of. Knowing he had to prove himself a real bastard to get rid of her, and he had to get rid of her lest he break her heart, Jake took both her hands in his and wordlessly released her grip on his shirt. Aware she was watching him, spellbound, he sauntered over to another trunk, yanked up the lid and hauled out an armful of blankets. He tossed them onto the floor. Then reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out several condoms he’d bought earlier that evening, while assuring himself all the while he was not going to need them.
“If you stay—” he said gruffly, tossing the condoms down onto the blankets, holding her eyes with his as he matter-of-factly unfastened his belt “—I’m going to make love to you right here and right now.” To further demonstrate his intentions, he unknotted the blue work shirt she had tied at her waist. “And it is not,” he warned softly and seriously, “going to be the romantic interlude of your dreams.”
But Maggie, rather than be offended by his unchivalrous attitude, merely tossed down the blue work shirt, kicked off her tennis shoes and released her hair from the high bouncy ponytail. Thusly prepared, and clad in shorts and a white T-shirt, she held her arms aloft and offered herself for the taking. “Then get to it, cowboy,” she drawled, surprising him all the more as she gave him a sexy, determined look that spoke volumes about her intent. “’Cause I think we’ve wasted far too much time finding each other to delay even one second longer.”
Despite the condoms and the blankets, the way he’d already started to undress them, she didn’t think he’d do it—he could see it in her face. Well, this was one cowboy who was going to prove her wrong time and time again, Jake thought resolutely, as he swept her into his arms and lowered her onto the pile of quilts. He followed her down, stretching out overtop her.
Expecting her to protest at his brusque matter-offact approach to lovemaking, he was stunned when she instead took his face in her hands and swiftly, purposefully lowered his head to hers.
He knew he shouldn’t do it, knew he shouldn’t anchor her to him this way—even for one night—but he no longer gave a damn. He slanted his lips over hers and tipping her head up to allow him greater access, he gave in to the incessant ache to be close to her and bestowed upon her the intimate kiss she desired.
As her lips molded to his, and her tongue sensually twined with his, he kissed her harshly, then desperately, then sweetly, until he felt the need pouring out of her, mingling with the desire and the temper and the even fiercer need to comfort him. And beneath that, he felt the tenderness that was as much a bewitching and elemental part of her as it was unexpected.
He knew he hadn’t done anything to deserve Maggie’s love. Nor had he ever expected a woman—any woman—to be able to make him want again. Maggie did. He hadn’t expected a woman to lure him into taking a risk. Yet here he was, entangled with Maggie on the blankets in the attic…positioned between her legs…kissing her long and hard and deep, and running his fingers through her soft blond hair. And still knowing, even as he kissed her with a slow, insistent demand, and felt her melt helplessly beneath him, that it wasn’t nearly enough…and wouldn’t be, until he had made her his and his alone.
When his hand slipped beneath the T-shirt, and cupped her breast through the thin lace of her bra, she trembled with pleasure. He moved his hips against hers insistently, in the same rhythm as hi
s tongue in her mouth, and she moaned on a soft, shuddering breath, her nipple beading against his palm.
His body trembling with the effort it was costing him to go slow enough to please her, he pulled her fractionally closer, wanting her to the point of madness, yet knowing she deserved so much more than anything he had given her thus far. He might not be able to give her what she wanted or needed in a man or potential husband, but he could give her this night. He could make love to her in a way neither of them would ever forget…
Maggie hadn’t expected Jake to come back in time to find her in the attic, but considering the way the events had transpired, she thought as he deftly divested her of her bra and shorts, she wasn’t sorry he had. She had never wanted to be as close to a man as she wanted to be to Jake. And considering the fierce expression of longing on his face, the almost primal possessiveness in the way he undressed her and let her help him undress and put on his condom, he felt the same way. For tonight, she decided as he lay her back on the blankets, parted her thighs with one hot, smooth motion of his palms, and slid between them once again, that would be enough. It would have to be.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered, his dark eyes glittering with anticipation, as he kissed her thoroughly and slid down to worship the blond triangle between her legs.
Maggie arched her back and caught his head in her hands. Her answer was wrenched from her, right along with her shuddering response. “You, Jake. I want you.”
“Tell me what you need,” he said, his hands rhythmically and thoroughly caressing her ankles, her knees, the delicate insides of her thighs.
“Is it this?”
Her eyes drifted shut and she sighed as his lips found her center.
“Or is it this?” Gently, he tested her readiness with the tip of his finger.
Shimmers of excitement swept through her as the scent of his aftershave and the clean soap scent of his skin combined with his nakedness to tantalize her unbearably. She clasped his shoulders tightly. “I need this, Jake. I need tonight.” I need you, Jake, and only you.
“Heaven help me, I need tonight, too,” he murmured, the emotional tone in his voice nearly undoing her.
Toes pointed, she arched and came apart beneath him in hot, aching waves. With a low grunt of satisfaction, he moved higher. His manhood brushed against her thighs, setting off another lightning storm of reaction.
“I didn’t realize how much,” he continued his confession raggedly as he surged inside her.
The heat of their joining seared and enveloped her in a pleasure unlike anything Maggie had ever known. Like a whirlwind, the fierceness of their lovemaking swept them both into its power. They clung together, moving in unison, moving toward the peak. She let him lift her higher and raise her knees. She let him possess her fiercely, almost desperately, singlemindedly catapulting her to new heights, and when it was over, she did not let go, but rather, enticed him into making love again, more slowly this time, with the tenderness, depth of sensuality, and slow mutuality of purpose they both deserved.
Afterward, as they cuddled against each other, the rain still beating softly and steadily overhead, she could feel how much he needed and wanted her, even if it would be light-years before he would ever admit it. And that made all the difference in the world. If it were up to her, Maggie thought, holding him all the tighter as the love poured out of her, Jake would never be alone or lonely again.
It was time to rip up her list and start planning that engagement announcement for the Houston newspaper. She’d found the man for her. The only man for her.
“HEY, UNKA JAKE, how come Maggie’s calling you Wounded Bear today?” Rusty demanded as he and his twin brother tore into Jake’s den.
‘Cause I’ve been acting like a complete jerk, Jake thought, and I don’t even know why. He just knew he had been sad and out of sorts ever since he and Maggie had made love the night before. “I’m just tired, Rusty,” Jake explained. “And when I’m tired I get grumpy. That’s why I came in here and shut the door. So I wouldn’t be grumpy around anyone else.”
“Well, it’s too late,” Wyatt added, bursting in to join the conversation, “’cause Maggie jus’ told Harry that if you get any grumpier someone’s gonna have to take you out and shoot you.”
At that, Jake found himself grinning despite his foul mood. He punched in a Save instruction on his computer, so he wouldn’t lose any of the data he had just typed. Turning toward the twins, he leaned back in his desk chair and, unable to help himself, asked, “Where is Maggie, anyway?”
Wyatt pushed around the desk and climbed up on one side of Jake’s lap; Rusty climbed up on the other. “She’s in the kitchen, on the telephone, talkin’ to her New York agent.”
A warning sounded in Jake’s head. And though he knew it was wrong to nose around in anyone else’s business, he asked anyway, “What about?”
“Oh, he wants her to come back to work right away and Maggie keeps laughing like this—” Wyatt did an imitation of a flirty female laugh “—and telling him no, she’s not coming back for even that much money, that if he wants her back he’s going to have to do better than that even!”
Wants her back, Jake thought, alarmed.
As client, or girlfriend?
Was it possible Maggie was in Texas only because she was running from some painful romantic past, too?
He didn’t like the thought. Frowning, he pushed away the image of Maggie with another man and stood. It was past time he took a break. “You know, guys, I think I could use a glass of lemonade. How about you?”
MAGGIE WAS STILL laughing softly when Jake entered the kitchen. The receiver pressed to her ear, she had her back to him. And even though he reminded himself coldly that she had every right to flirt with whomever she damn well pleased, his gut tightened at the thought she might be involved with someone else who didn’t particularly want to get married, or have children, either.
“All right. I’ll call you if I change my mind. I promise. But I wouldn’t count on it,” Maggie spoke into the phone. Smiling, she hung up.
“Wounded Bear wants some lemonade!” Rusty announced.
Maggie, who—rather than interact with Jake—had already resumed assisting Harry make a batch of chocolate chip cookies, had the grace to flush at Rusty’s comment. Which perversely only made Jake want to embarrass her all the more. “Wounded Bear?” Jake echoed, sardonically lifting his brow.
The pink in Maggie’s cheeks deepened prettily as she turned away from him and slid a cookie sheet into the oven. “I assure you I don’t know what they are talking about,” she said stiffly.
“Sure you do, Maggie.” Rusty paused to sneak a bit of cookie batter from the spoon. “After all, you been callin’ Unka Jake Wounded Bear all day.”
Thus exposed, Maggie gave up the ruse. Still avoiding Jake’s eyes, she shrugged indifferently at his nephews. “It seemed appropriate.”
Jake knew it. He wasn’t proud of it. He was acting like a donkey’s rear end. They were going to have to talk sometime, but when?
Before he could figure that out, the phone rang. “I’ll get it!” Wyatt said. He grabbed the receiver, lifted it clumsily to his ear, and said, “Rollicking M Ranch, Wyatt speaking. Mama! Hi!” Wyatt listened a moment, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Hurrah, hurrah! Okay.” Wyatt handed the phone to Jake. “Mama wants to talk to you, Unka Jake.”
Aware Maggie was watching him carefully as she lifted cooled cookies off another baking sheet onto a plate, Jake picked up the phone. “Hi, sis, what’s up?” As he listened, Jake smiled, too. “That’s great, Kelsey. Yeah, anytime is fine with me.” Jake handed the phone to Rusty. “Your mama wants to talk to you a minute.”
“Good news?” Harry asked Jake, as he spooned batter onto yet another cookie pan.
“The best,” Jake confirmed, trying not to look at Maggie. “Kelsey found Clint and he’s agreed to try to work things out. The two of them should be back in Texas in a few days to pick up the boys.”
&
nbsp; “That’s great,” Maggie interjected, as abruptly aware as Jake that her reason for staying at the ranch was coming to an end. Her face unusually pale, she turned away from Jake and Harry, wiped her hands on a dish towel and removed her apron. “Listen, if you men will excuse me for a minute,” she said in a muffled voice, keeping her back to all four guys, “I just remembered something I have to do.”
“YOU’RE UPSET, aren’t you?” Jake said, following Maggie out into the rainswept flower gardens, on the other side of the pool.
“Why would I be upset?” Maggie said, trying hard to retain her composure in the face of so much emotional turmoil. She had known this was coming. Why should she feel so surprised? Never mind so disappointed. Like the best thing that had ever happened to her was being taken away before she had the chance to enjoy it. She knelt to snip a fragrant yellow rose. “I want Wyatt and Rusty to be reunited with their folks.”
Jake hunkered down beside her. He held the bush, so the thorny stems wouldn’t catch on her gardening glove. “Do you also want to leave?”
Maggie slipped the cut flower into her basket and sat back on her heels. If it was all-out honesty he wanted, all-out honesty was what he was going to get. “Considering the way you’ve been acting today, it might be a good thing.” She’d known all along that the boys were the only reason he had ever invited her into his life, even for a little while, because he needed her help taking care of them. Still, after the passionate way they had made love in the attic, she would’ve thought he would be happy today. Instead, he was moping around, looking and acting as if he’d lost his best friend, and behaving toward her as if nothing the least bit special had happened anyway. Both attitudes rankled.
One Hot Cowboy Page 14
