by Stacey Kayne
She'd been one surprise after another since the moment he'd laid eyes on her. He'd never been real keen on surprises, but was finding Rachell to be more and more intriguing.
"Well, hell," he muttered.
He surely didn't need to like this woman. Physical attraction was one thing, but likeability, now that was another thing entirely. Considering the staggering force of his attraction, it was downright dangerous.
"What are you lookin' at," he said, glancing at Sage's dark eye. "I saw her scratching your ears yesterday. She's already got you snared." His buckskin was as ornery as they came, and usually downright vicious to anyone but him, yet whenever Rachell stroked his golden hide, Sage acted like a big hound, lowering his block head to get it under her palm.
"Come on, boy," he said, taking Sage by the reins. "Let's go find her. Lord knows what kind of mischief she's stirring up."
Jed walked a couple hundred yards before he spotted her. She sat on a grassy river bank, holding a two-foot garter snake. She held the colorful serpent at eye level, just a few inches from her face. Her free hand caressed the black, white and orange coils banded around her arm. Her lips drew into a smile as the snake's black tongue flicked out.
Jed's mouth gaped.
Lord, save me. She can even charm snakes. Damn if she wasn't conversing with the slithery thing.
She had unraveled her braids, and her long hair rippled across her back and into the tall grass. The light afternoon breeze tugged at the wispy red ends. Her dress blended well with the blades of lush green, bonding her to the earth. She looked to be just as he'd named her, a little forest sprite, finding mischief and delight in the nature surrounding her.
Jed shook off his trancelike state, released Sage and continued toward her. "Did they teach you to speak reptile at that fancy school back east?" he asked as he sat beside her.
Startled by the sound of his voice, Rachell nearly dropped the snake on her lap. "Jed! How do you creep about like that?"
"I'd be happy to show you, if you'd be willing to give me a lesson in reptile talk."
She released the snake then glanced up at Jed with those pure green eyes. "What do you mean?"
His gaze settled on her succulent lips. He yearned to press his lips to her sweet mouth, the way a drowning man craves air. Before he found the sense to stop himself, his lips were moving over hers in a light caress. She didn't back away as he would have expected, nor did she show any sign of resistance when he lifted her hands from her lap and wrapped them around his neck.
His body surged with heat as she trembled in his arms while he traced the rim of her mouth with his tongue. "I'm waiting for that flicking tongue," he whispered.
Rachell's eyes opened wide at the sound of Jed's husky voice. Gracious! How had her fingers become entwined in his hair?
She'd been too caught up in the shivering bursts of heat rippling though her body and the caress of his lips to notice anything else. Her eyes drifted shut as his incredibly gentle hands continued to stroke her back. His mouth nibbled tenderly at her lips. She pushed her fingers deeper into his smooth, black hair, and was sure he liked it when he groaned, pulling her closer.
"Imp?"
She shivered as his tongue skimmed across the seam of her lips. Did he truly want her to stick out her tongue? Parting her lips, she discovered that was exactly what he wanted. His tongue didn't wait, however, but came seeking, into her mouth.
Rachell was jolted by surprise and an unexpected rush of pleasure as Jed molded his mouth to hers. His scent, taste and texture surrounded her, consuming her. She gave herself to his kiss, swept up in the sweet intimacy and sheer wonder of the wild sensations coursing through her.
Belatedly, she felt the cool grass against her back, her sole focus on the rhythmic probing of Jed's velvety tongue, encouraging her to take part in the delicious dance taking place inside their joined mouths. His restless hands carried fire across her body, caressing her shoulders, her sides, her hips.
Her own hands mapped the firm muscles of his sides and back. She shifted beneath him, trying to pull his body closer, wanting to feel his weight, but it was like trying to move a mountain. His knees, straddling her hips, securely supported his weight just inches above her.
Jed's senses reeled as Rachell allowed him to taste her sweetness. She seared him to his soul with the timid strokes of her tongue and her soft sighs of surprise. He slid his hand beneath her waistcoat, brushing across the satiny skin of her trim abdomen, slowly seeking the tender rise of her breast.
His whole body trembled with a rush of desire as he found the gentle swell. He swallowed another soft moan and caressed the firm peak rising to his touch. Her sharp fingernails bit into his shoulders, her back arched off the grass.
"Oh, God," he groaned against her mouth. He shouldn't be doing this! She's Elizabeth's sister; with a taste as sweet as honey and skin as smooth as silk. He massaged the soft satin flesh, caressing her delicate breast. She trembled beneath him, sounds of pleasure and surprise rising from deep in her throat.
Her passionate response to his touch went to his head faster than whisky.
She's Buck's sister-in-law!
Using every last ounce of his willpower, Jed wrenched his mouth away from hers and forced his hand away from her body. For a long moment he hovered above her, his arms braced on either side of her head. Breathing heavily, he stared into her passion-filled eyes.
She'd been telling the truth about her line of work. This woman was no prostitute. If he didn't know she was a widow, he'd damn near bet his ranch she'd never been properly kissed. Her kisses were timid, unskilled.. .and pure fire.
Damn if she hadn't burned him senseless with those chaste kisses and soft cries.
"Sorry, Rachell," he rasped, his chest still pulling for the air that somehow kept eluding his lungs. "I shouldn't have done that," he said as he rolled away from her and stood.
Rachell sat up, dazed and gasping for breath. She watched Jed walk downstream. What on earth had just happened? He had just.. .he had... She drew a hand to her tingling lips.
Good gracious. She hadn't made the slightest attempt to stop him. She cringed with indignation, realizing she hadn't wanted him to stop. But he had, obviously finding her to be less than adequate.
No news there. She glanced down at the small peaks he'd thoroughly measured in his hand. Miss Delilah hadn't been the first to point out her boyish figure. The thought of the voluptuous saloon owner increased her growing despair.
Jed had undoubtedly expected a woman skilled in the area of physical pleasures. She had no more experience with the intimacies between a man and a woman than she did with cooking. She'd never had an interest in either, or at least she hadn't until she'd come into contact with a certain man with quicksilver eyes, magical hands and unbending confidence.
Tears swelled into her eyes, increasing her self contempt.
"Now he truly believes I'm a whore," she muttered, swatting at a fallen tear. "A lousy one at that."
But, what did it matter? She only wanted to get to California. Once she arrived, she wouldn't have to see him. He wouldn't want her to cook for his cowhands.. .or want her for anything else.
She should be relieved, but somehow, she wasn't. Jed stirred the strangest feelings inside her. She'd tried to tell herself it was fear. What woman in her right mind wouldn't fear a man his size, with his dark moods?
She clearly wasn't a woman in her right mind.
In the past few days, all she could think about was the late- night hour when Jed would pull her close, warming her, sheltering her with his body. Only then did she drift into a peaceful sleep.
A shiver vibrated through her at the thought.
"Rachell."
Startled by Jed's whispered voice, Rachell clutched her chest. Lord, the way he crept about, a body would die of heart failure!
Noting his frigid gaze, she followed it across the river and sucked in a hard breath as she spotted the small band of Indians riding toward them. She scrambl
ed to her feet and clutched at Jed's shirt.
"Don't panic," he said, pulling her against his side.
The three men had the appearance of young warriors. Rachell hoped the red markings painted on their cheeks didn't signify hostility. Clad only in buckskin britches and moccasins, their bronzed, muscular chests and torsos shone brightly in the sun. Large feathers were bound in their long black hair. A wide black stripe was painted across the eyes of the man riding in the center, reminding Rachell of a raccoon.
"Are they friendly?" she asked.
"Hard to say," Jed replied as he backed up toward Sage, keeping Rachell close to his side.
"Do you know them?"
"Nope. By the markings on their horses, I'd say they're Apache."
"Is that bad?" she asked, his neutral tone giving her no indication.
"Depends."
"On what?"
"On whether or not they're bad men."
Recognizing the contempt in their gazes, Jed didn't hold much faith in their good intentions. These three had strayed pretty far north into Ute territory. As he watched the Apache slowly plodding across the river, his focus locked on the brave riding in the center. The young man's eyes moved admiringly over Rachell's auburn hair. A sharp smile sliced across his face. Seemed this brave had a mind to acquire a new woman.
My woman.
"Jed." Rachell's voice quivered. "I don't like the way that racoon-eyed Apache is looking at me."
"Neither do I," he said under his breath. "Don't worry, Imp. I won't let him take you."
" Take me?"
Jed wrapped her hands around the reins. "Stay put and don't speak unless I ask you to."
As the Indians reached the rocky edge of the river, the one in the center lifted his hand, calling out to them. Rachell was stunned when Jed answered in the foreign tongue as he strode toward them. The Apache seemed to share her surprise.
They reined in a few feet before Jed, the racoon-eyed warrior doing all the talking.
Jed's harsh-spoken response startled her. The only word she understood had been the first-a hard-spoken no.
The young warrior's dark eyes seethed with anger. He clearly didn't like whatever Jed was saying. When again the warrior spoke, Jed shook his head.
"Rachell. Come stand behind me," he called.
She complied without hesitation. Terrified, she wanted to be near him. Jed tugged her in front of him, spreading his hand across her stomach as he spoke. The warrior's face creased with blatant rage before he shouted a response.
Jed stepped in front of her. Rachell suppressed a scream as Jed pulled his long knife from the scabbard at his waist.
After a few minutes of what appeared to be a heated debate, they seemed to reach a settlement. Jed took her by the hand and led her back to Sage.
"Are we leaving?" she asked with hopeful earnestness.
"Not just yet. You picked a fine time to let your hair down.
Seems if I want to keep my fire-haired wife, I'll have to fight for her."
"Fight? Jed, there are three of them!"
"Ain't that the truth?" he said, shaking his head as he unhooked his gunbelt and slung it over the back of his saddle.
"Why on earth are you removing your gun?" She glanced at the Indians standing in front of their horses, talking amongst themselves. "Can't you just shoot them?"
"Now, Rachell, that wouldn't be honorable."
"Why not?" She whipped her gaze back to Jed who was digging in his saddlebags.
"Because they're not gonna use guns," he said as he tucked another knife into the tall shaft of his moccasin.
"How can you be sure?"
"Take a gander, sugar. See any holsters or pockets on those boys?"
Rachell bristled. He wasn't thinking rationally! "Are you telling me there are rules to be followed when trying to keep a woman from being abducted by savages?"
The insufferable rogue had the nerve to smile!
"Two, to be exact," he said. "They won't kill me if I kill them first, and the last one standing gets to keep my wife."
"But I'm not really your wife!" Lord, she wished he'd stop smiling. She was feeling real fear. She watched in disbelief as he pulled his shirt over his head, laughing all the while.
"Don't tell them that," he said, his silver-gray eyes shining with his ill-gotten humor. "Then you'd be free for the taking. I suggest you sit tight and start casting them some of the ferocious glares you've been using on me all week."
Without warning, he took her by the waist and lifted her into the saddle.
"Jed!" Frantic to keep him next to her, she clutched his hand. She didn't resist when his other hand wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her toward him, not stopping until his lips were touching hers.
"Rachell," he whispered against her mouth, "if you start tearing up, they're gonna think you don't have any faith in me. Sit up here like the hellcat I know you are and wish me luck."
"You're going to get hurt."
"Probably," he said, just before his tongue slipped past her lips, grazing her teeth and assaulting her mouth with an intensity that both comforted and overwhelmed her.
Rachell folded her arms around his neck, losing all sense of timidity as she returned the deep, fervent kiss, wishing the magical feelings he stirred inside her could somehow carry them away from this present danger.
Jed pulled his mouth away from hers and stared into her eyes as though she were the one threatening his life. "Good God."
One of the Indians shouted out impatiently.
"Whatever happens, don't get out of this saddle and don't run."
"I'm not a deserter or a coward." She lifted her chin, her features hardening in an instant.
Lord, I could love this woman.
The unexpected thought stunned him. Jed shook his head as he turned, pushing the ridiculous thought from his mind. One mountain at a time, he told himself as he eyed the Apache warriors. He hoped Rachell wasn't the type to swoon at the first sight of blood. There was bound to be plenty of it.
Hopefully it won't be mine.
He drew his knife and walked past the three young warriors, leading them away from Rachell. Sensing their fast approach, he ducked under a fallen log. He heard the thwack of a tomahawk biting into the wood as he straightened on the other side. His fist cracked against the Indian's jaw, sending him staggering backwards. Jed pulled the tomahawk free as the second man advanced over the fallen tree.
Jed blocked the knife sweeping down at him with one hand and swiped the tomahawk across the Indian's chest with the other while turning away from his opponent's grasp.
He tucked the tomahawk into the rear waistband of his buckskin pants and backed toward the river, his body honed for the fight. Conscious of the third Apache watching from a few yards away, he eyed the two stalking toward him. The sun at his back glistened on the blood he'd drawn from them. Both had been a warning blow. His next move wouldn't be so playful.
Chapter Seven
The Apache weren't fighting fair!
Jed was amazing.
He maneuvered his body with a speed and grace she'd not thought possible of a man his size. His powerful limbs moved in strong, sure strokes, fighting off attacks and delivering blows as he moved between the two Indians.
Rachell didn't know whether to be wary or relieved that the racoon-eyed warrior hadn't engaged in the fight. He stood several yards away, watching the battle through narrowed eyes. Rachell's breath caught as those blackened eyes snapped toward her. His slow smile sickened her stomach. His calculating gaze moved over her body, violating her even from the great distance between them. Her heart constricted painfully as he shifted, preparing to take a step toward her.
A keen cry drew their attention back to the river's edge where one of the Indians had fallen to his knees, his hands gripping the handle of Jed's knife, the blade buried in his chest. Rachell gasped as he crumpled facedown onto the rocky shoreline. Without a weapon in hand, Jed lunged aside, dodging the attack of the sec
ond Apache. The Indian's knife sliced only air. Jed grabbed his arm and whipped the Indian off his feet, flipping him onto his back.
Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, Rachell shifted her gaze back to the racoon-eyed Apache.
Fear bonded with the blood coursing though her veins as her gaze locked on the dark eyes steadily moving toward her.
"Jed!" she screamed, then wondered what she was thinking. Jed already had his hands full.
"Touch her and I'll hand-deliver you to Satan."
Jed's lethal promise boomed over the hush of the river.
The Indian stalled, his gaze lingering over her for a long, heart-pounding moment.
Rachell flickered a glance at Jed. His chilling gray eyes were locked on the black-painted warrior, as his hand held the second Indian pinned facedown on the rocks.
"Rachell," Jed shouted, "if he takes another step in your direction, shoot him."
Rachell groped for the rifle as Jed spoke again, this time in the Apache's language. Before she could pull the long gun free, the Indian turned and set into a hard run toward Jed. Wielding a large knife, he bounded over the fallen tree, intent on reaching his target.
Jed straightened away from the unmoving man on the ground, just in time to grab the third warrior, deflecting the knife aimed at his flesh. With a heave, Jed tossed him into the shallows of the river. Jed drew the knife he'd tucked into his boot then dove at him.
Water whipped and splashed around them as they twisted and thrashed in such a tangle of bronze skin, black hair and buckskin, Rachell couldn't tell one man from the other. The river was drawing them out, pulling them deeper into its deadly current. Fear gripped her soul as they disappeared under the water.
A moment later the Apache surfaced, Jed's knife protruding from his shoulder. Blood began to appear from several cuts across his arms and chest. Jed found his footing a second later, just a few feet down river from the Indian. Waist deep in water, his powerful body moved against the rushing force of the water as he stalked toward the Indian. Red dots beaded in a line at the base of his ribs.
