“You’re bleeding.” It was Kate, at his side. “Mitch, I’m sorry I acted like an idiot. Thanks for saving me... again.”
Worry shone in her blue eyes, and, in the turmoil, a rebellious hank of blond hair had fallen over one cheek. But she was safe and whole, this small, feisty, insane woman.
When he saw her in danger, the truth had forced itself dead center into Mitch’s brain. He loved her.
But he couldn’t have her. He was in no position to offer her a home or a family or a future. Besides, she belonged to someone else.
“You should go inside,” the older woman said. “They must have a first-aid kit.”
The last thing he needed was to have people fuss over him. “We’ve got one in the camper,” Mitch managed to say.
Kate gave the pair a warm smile. “Thanks, but I can take care of him.”
As the couple walked away, Mitch knew he ought to get moving, too, but his legs were trembling. Kate helped him as far as the camper’s steps, where he sat heavily.
“You’re stunned,” she said. “Do you feel cold?”
“Just shaky. It’ll pass.”
Something red dripped across his line of sight. Blood. Absentmindedly, he reached up to wipe it off.
Kate grabbed his wrist. “Go ahead, rub dirt into it. That ought to help.”
“Sorry.” Mitch tried to think clearly. “The first-aid kit is under the sink. Get me patched up and let’s push on.”
“To where?” Kate demanded.
He couldn’t believe she’d forgotten. “Santa Fe.”
“In your condition?” She edged by him into the interior. “Here’s the plan.” The cabinet door squeaked open. “I patch you up. I drive to Gallup, we find an RV park, then I cook us a delicious meal of—what did we just buy?—corned beef hash and lima beans.”
He hated to lose the time, but his entire side was stiffening where he’d fallen. There was no way he could drive to Santa Fe tonight.
The truck was cranky and capricious and, burdened with the camper, it required an experienced hand even in daylight. Kate could manage as far as Gallup, but he didn’t want her taking it any farther, especially not after dark.
Two more cars pulled into the lot. “Let’s get going before anyone else asks questions,” Mitch said. “Just give me a clean rag to wipe my face. You can make me beautiful later.”
Behind him, an intake of breath indicated she was about to argue. Quickly, he added, “We can camp in Gallup if you insist. Just hurry.”
“All right, tough guy.” Kate emerged with the first-aid kit and a cloth. “Promise me you’ll slather some antibiotic cream over it, too. I’ll do the rest when we get there.”
“Much appreciated,” said Mitch.
By the time they reached a campground nearly an hour later, he could barely move his leg, despite having downed several ibuprofen pills. Kate helped him inside, opened the couch into a bed and eased him onto it.
Her cool hands moved across his face, wiping off his hastily applied lotion and replacing it with a fresh dressing. Mitch felt safe in her care.
He also felt stupid. He had escaped a death trap in Texas and dodged bullets in California, only to let some punk get the better of him in the middle of nowhere.
“Let’s see the rest of the damage.” She indicated his leg. “Do you want me to cut off your jeans, or are you going to take them off yourself?”
He couldn’t resist a crooked grin, even though his face felt like hardened plaster. “Honey, you can undress me anytime.”
“I’ll slit ’em.” She glanced toward the kitchen counter. “Where do you keep the scissors?”
“Never mind.” With a low groan, he reached for his heavy belt buckle. It slid open with the greatest of ease, as if to mock him with the reminder of how its cantankerousness had ensnared Kate in the first place.
Except that, right now, he wasn’t so sure which of them had been ensnared. Not when he could only push his jeans halfway down, and then had to pretend not to notice while Kate stripped them the rest of the way. It was maddening the way she did it, with the detached efficiency of a teacher examining a child who’d been hurt on the playground.
How could she stay so cool when his body was throbbing with her nearness? It was diabolical, this feminine imperviousness to the silken whisper of skin against skin as her hand caressed his bare thigh and knee and calf.
Mitch could feel his bruises purpling, but oddly, it didn’t hurt even when Kate began applying hydrocortisone cream. Two forces stronger than pain were warring within him: exhaustion, and a powerful swelling in his groin. He was thankful for the protective covering of his extralong shirt.
Had it been any other woman attending him, he would have fallen asleep the minute he stretched out. Now delicious fingers of desire crept along his midsection. Couldn’t Kate sense his response? Didn’t she feel a quickening in her own body?
He wondered if the time would ever come when he could tell her that he loved her. He thought about telling her now, but first it was imperative that he...that he...fall asleep.
KATE AWOKE AT MIDNIGHT on her bed above the cab. Below, she heard Mitch tossing and turning on the couch.
Praying that he wasn’t developing an infection, she climbed down and touched his forehead. It felt damp but cool.
She sat beside him, too restless to go back to her own bed. Although she had pretended indifference this afternoon, touching him had stirred her in unexpected ways.
Her flesh felt highly sensitized just being beside him. The man was hard, and yet a vulnerability lurked beneath his toughness.
Kate studied the bandage strips crisscrossing his cheekbone and forehead. Without thinking, she bent and brushed her lips across a patch of uncovered skin.
A drift of fragrance, so faint it was almost below the conscious level, percolated into her veins. At the same time, Mitch sighed and shifted position, dislodging the covers from one hip.
His injured leg lay bare. In the dim light, Kate couldn’t see the bruises. Tentatively, she feathered one hand along his knee and thigh. Just to check for swelling.
She didn’t find any. What she did find were corded muscles that tensed instinctively beneath her touch.
A wave of pure, hot desire rocketed through her. Her throat clenched as she became fiercely aware of how much she wanted him. But how could she respond this way, when she was going to marry Moose?
Perhaps these sensations sprang at least partly from the elemental excitement of a woman who sees a man thrust himself protectively in front of her. Like a knight from the Middle Ages, Kate mused. One of Agatha Flintstone’s Norman conquerors, perhaps.
She had always found the town clerk’s fantasies amusing, but now she found them reassuring. Her feelings were normal. Instinctive. Universal. They had less to do with Mitch Connery as a real, flesh-and-blood man than with archetypes and legends.
The thought of Agatha steadied her. Kate smiled at the memory of the town clerk whacking Tiny Wheeler with a book as he ran through the church.
It was amazing how the townspeople had rallied in the face of danger. Especially Charity Arden and her amazing aim. The thought of her old friends comforted Kate, and she tugged the blanket into place over Mitch.
What had been going on in Grazer’s Corners while she was away? Jordan Grazer would be marrying Randall Latrobe tomorrow. Kate hoped they had worked out whatever seemed to be troubling Jordan.
Then, next weekend, big blond Garrett Keeley and slender, elegant Hailey Olson would walk down the aisle. She had never seen any longing gazes or stolen kisses exchanged between those two, but surely they knew what they were doing.
The way she had, Kate mused. She’d been so certain she knew what the future held for her. Now...well, now she couldn’t think past getting Mitch safely through the night.
Rolling onto his stomach, he muttered something incomprehensible. Maybe he was developing a fever after all, even if it wasn’t detectable yet, she thought anxiously.
It might be best if she
lay down beside him. The opened-out couch was wide enough for two, and this way she was more likely to awaken if his condition worsened. That confusing rush of longing had abated, and she felt fully in control of herself.
After fetching her pillow, Kate slid under the covers beside Mitch. His warmth enveloped her, and although she shrank as far to one side as possible, her leg brushed his lightly furred calf.
Certain that she wouldn’t sleep a wink, she nestled into place and closed her eyes. The next thing she knew, she came awake with the vague sense that time had passed, although it was still dark.
Beside her, Mitch moaned. The sound startled Kate, until she remembered that she had chosen to sleep beside him in order to keep tabs on his condition.
His forehead still felt cool, but the moan indicated he might be in pain. Quietly, she got up and padded to the sink.
Returning with a cup of water and two pain pills, she managed to get them down the man. It was amazing that he could swallow them while still half-asleep. She wished she had the same facility.
Kate put the cup away and returned to bed. This time, sleep refused to come for a long time, and when it did, it was filled with haunting legends and tantalizing archetypes that looked exactly like Mitch.
IN HIS DREAM, he lay injured on a battlefield that resembled a gravel-strewn parking lot. Beside him knelt a blond nurse, her blue eyes alive with concern, her hands deft and gentle.
When she touched him, the pain eased, and the ground beneath him transformed itself into a grassy field. He felt her stretch out beside him and realized this must be a form of New Age healing.
That seemed odd, since he had the impression he’d been fighting in the Civil War. But the pieces of the dream shifted and fell into place, so that in a subliminal way it all made sense.
Mitch knew instinctively that this woman, this healer wanted to raise the power of his life force. She must not realize that his life force had already raised itself.
Slowly he reached out to touch the smoothness of her uniform. As he did, he became aware of the fresh herbal scent of her hair and the almost unbearable nearness of her hips to his.
The nurse couldn’t have known how long it had been since this soldier had lain with a woman. Not since his law school days. Law school? But if he wasn’t a soldier, he must be Mitch. And this woman was...
Kate. His Kate. Good Lord, what was she doing in bed with him?
Mitch opened his eyes to the glow of early dawn. The half-light turned the camper’s interior to a rosy haze.
He lay on his side, half-covering Kate with one knee and his arm. Her filmy nightgown scrunched about her waist, and the sheets had been kicked away.
A long, shuddering breath escaped her, and then her eyes blinked open. They widened at the sight of him, and Mitch swallowed, preparing to make awkward apologies. Also, he ought to move away. But he couldn’t.
She lay motionless for a long moment, absorbing the situation. He felt her shift beneath him, but she didn’t draw back.
Instead, she reached around him and traced the bare skin of his back. Her hands feathered down to the elastic on his waistband, stopping as his body tightened.
Moving closer, she brushed her lips across his cheek, tentatively at first, then with greater daring. Neither the early-morning stubble nor his disheveled state fazed her as she nibbled his jaw.
With exquisite gentleness, Mitch ran his thumbs from her waist up to the small, shapely breasts. The peaks strained beneath his touch, and he bent to take them in his mouth, one after the other.
Kate gasped and arched against him. One knee rubbed his thigh, and he could feel heat blazing through her.
He wanted her so badly he could hardly restrain himself. He forced himself to pause. This moment was too precious to rush.
Then, ignoring the lingering soreness in his muscles, he lifted himself above her and leaned down to let his tongue trace the line of Kate’s throat. Her hands gripped his hips, bringing him once more to the edge of an explosion.
Not yet. Not yet.
He tasted her lips, and then her temples, while his thumb teased the tips of her breasts. She was so small that he could completely cover her, yet she filled his horizon.
Kate curved against him, her body rubbing sinuously so that she touched him everywhere in turn. Her satiny skin grazed the hardness of his thighs and chest in open invitation.
A man could hold out for only so long. With the relieved sense of entering a place where his entire soul yearned to go, Mitch stroked her legs apart and eased himself into her.
He felt a momentary resistance and heard a soft cry from Kate. Before he could register what it meant, she pulled him more tightly into herself, thrusting against him until she drove all rational thought from his mind.
IT SEEMED INCREDIBLE that Kate had never put the pieces together before. Now, in one burst of revelation, she saw that she had never been indifferent to sex; she had simply never truly understood what it was.
She shouldn’t be doing this with a man who wasn’t her husband, but she might as well command her heart to stop beating. Mitch took her elusive, fragmentary longings and fused them into a white sword of desire.
From the moment she felt his body covering hers, Kate had been lost. Her breasts were on fire, and a deep hunger welled inside her.
When he took her virginity, there was a twinge of discomfort. It melted instantly into a great aching need that only he could relieve.
She felt his power and strength flowing into her. With every tormenting stroke, he gave her more of his masculine essence.
This cowboy, this untamed male, was losing himself in her. Kate had never felt so alive. Her body buzzed as if electricity flowed from his arteries into hers.
For this moment, Mitch belonged entirely to her. She gripped his buttocks, and relished feeling his thrusts simultaneously within herself and outside, through her hands.
He drove harder, all the ferocity of his nature unleashed in this one act. Elation bubbled within Kate, intensifying until she could no longer think but only yearn, profoundly and desperately, for him to propel her with all his force into a new dimension.
At the same time, she relished the moments when he stopped and let the longing build in them both. The ragged need made his blazing reentry even more delicious.
How incredible that these sensations had lain buried inside her, unsuspected, for so long. This was all she had imagined a wedding night could be, and more.
Again Mitch paused. Kate caught an impression of the whole man, from his rumpled hair down the length of his body, from his careless youthful days on horseback to the tempered hardness of the adult, poised to give himself to her.
He would hold nothing back. And neither could she.
Then he filled her. And filled her again, moving faster and faster. She clasped him and gave him back all of herself.
With a final thrust, they merged and, for one shimmering moment, hovered above themselves, blending together in body and in spirit.
As fire muted into afterglow, Mitch relaxed to one side and gathered her close. Kate lay against his chest, happy to have this quiet spell. Happy to inhale his scent and listen to his regular breathing.
But not yet ready to look into his eyes. Not yet ready to deal with the fact that her neatly ordered life had just fractured into a thousand glittering shards.
Chapter Ten
Mitch prided himself on being able to size up a situation quickly. Whether it was a distant slithery motion on the range that marked the path of a rattlesnake, or a slight misstatement that indicated a client might be lying, he seized on it instantly.
Well, he hadn’t been very quick on the draw this morning. It had never occurred to him that a woman as sophisticated as Kate could be a virgin.
He had taken that from her. With her consent, of course, but that didn’t lessen his obligation.
Beside him, she propped herself on one elbow. “Do you have some kind of postgame ritual that I should know about?”
>
“Excuse me?”
“You don’t smoke, so I don’t think you want a cigarette.” It was amazing how young Kate looked in the dawnlight. Young and serious. Between her eyes, a tiny pucker had formed, and her full lips pursed in concentration. “Do you need to exercise? Or tune up the truck or something?”
“Are you under the impression,” Mitch said, “that men indulge in some kind of primitive, individualistic rite after making love?”
Kate’s cheeks colored. “Well, that’s what I’ve heard. You know, girl talk. And I’ve read about it, too.”
“Where?” he asked. “In health education manuals?”
“Agatha Flintstone loaned me one of her novels,” Kate admitted. “I guess I shouldn’t generalize based on gossip and a single book.”
“What exactly did this hero do?” Mitch asked. “Smoke a cigar with his toes?”
She laughed. “No, he was a knight. I think he got up and sharpened his sword.”
“Mine’s sharp enough already, thank you.”
“I’m well aware of that.” A contented sound escaped her.
Slipping an arm around Kate, he pulled her against his shoulder. A sweep of blond hair curtained her face, until she pushed it behind one ear. She looked as comfortable as a cat dozing before a fire.
“Do you understand what...” He stopped himself. “Of course you understand what we did.”
“Oh, we’re going to have that discussion.” Kate sighed. “I’m not sure I’m ready to deal with it.”
Mitch wasn’t sure he was, either, but he’d never been the sort of man to shirk his responsibilities. “It was your first time.”
She nodded.
“How long were you engaged?” he asked.
“Years and years,” she said. “I was saving myself.” That made him feel worse, until she added, “I guess I was saving myself for you.”
That sounded wonderful. If he hadn’t been a fugitive, and if he’d been able to offer her the kind of life she wanted, Mitch would have whisked her to the nearest justice of the peace. “Kate, you realize...”
The Cowboy & The Shotgun Bride (The Brides of Grazer's Corners #1) Page 14
