Storm's Interlude

by Vonnie Davis

  Her voice hitched an octave higher when his finger slipped into her. “No.”

  A slow, self-satisfied male chuckle rumbled from his chest. “I felt lightning strike.”

  “For Pete’s sake, there wasn’t a flash of lightning in the sky that night. A full moon was shining. Oh…” She wanted to beg him not to stop, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  “True, but I was hit by lightning just the same. Reckon it fried every brain cell I had, ’cause since then I haven’t been able to think of anything but you.” He rolled on top of her and slipped into her in one smooth stroke. Twining his fingers with hers, he pressed their joined hands into the pillow on either side of her head.

  “If you don’t want me, Rachel,” he said through clenched teeth as he moved within her, “all you have to do is say so. I’ll stop and leave you alone, though it’ll kill me to do it. Open your eyes, love. Look at me. Tell me you don’t want me, tell me you don’t want this.”

  She was already soaring, soaring beyond speech, beyond reason, beyond self. For this, no words were necessary. With their eyes locked, they moved in that sensual dance lovers know and flew over the edge, hand-in-hand, heart-to-heart—together.

  Water was running in the bathroom. Storm was humming “The Yellow Rose of Texas.” Rachel was curled into a ball, the sheet over her head, trying to deal with her confused emotions. She’d just been thoroughly loved by a handsome man, a man who seemed to genuinely care for her. Yet she hated being manipulated and told where she belonged. Kyle had controlled her that way, and she wouldn’t be controlled by another man, even if she did love him.

  “Rachel?” Storm stood in front of her, wearing a pair of faded navy sweatpants, slung low on the hips. Concern marred his handsome face. “You okay?” He lifted her from the tangle of sheets, walked to a navy leather wing-backed chair and sat. He snuggled her close and trailed a finger down her cheek. “Talk to me, mouse. Have I hurt you? I got a little crazy earlier. Was I too rough?”

  She shrugged and looked away. He could be so tender, so caring. “No. It’s not you…yes, it is you…it’s my whole life and the mess it’s become. I can’t go home because of Kyle. I shouldn’t be here because of Kyle.”

  “I’ll take care of Kyle, and that’s a promise. Me and Jackson’ll take care of things. You’re not alone anymore. You have family to rely on. I won’t let Kyle or anyone hurt you ever again.”

  “You don’t seem to understand how dangerous he might be.” Didn’t he get it?

  “I understand the bastard’s a bully. A bully who picks on people smaller than him. We’ll see how brave he is against men his own size.” He gently cupped her chin and turned her face to his. “I’ll protect you, love. A man takes care of his woman.” He smiled wryly. “That is, if I can get you to admit that you are my woman. That we’re in a relationship.”

  “Are we in a relationship?” She needed, required some assurances from this man.

  He laughed gruffly. “What happened between us earlier pretty much seals the deal, don’t you think?”

  “So, we’re in a sexual relationship?” She slipped off his lap and placed her hands on her hips.

  Storm looked her up and down. “God, woman, you’re beautiful.” She rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath. “Look, what we have is more than sex, and you know it. We’re in a permanent, loving relationship.” He stood and smiled. “Your bath is prepared, madam.” He gave a wave of his hand and bowed, humor glinting in his eyes.

  “My bath? I thought you were taking a shower.”

  He picked her up as if she weighed no more than a kitten. “Noella raised me to be a Texas gentleman. Ladies first. I’ve been pretty rough on you. I hope I haven’t made you sore. Perhaps a long, hot bubble bath is in order for the woman I love.”

  Storm carried her into his bathroom and then turned so she could see a mound of fragrant bubbles in the huge Jacuzzi. “You…you did this for me? You drew me a bath?”

  He leaned over and placed her in the warm water. “Every woman deserves a little pampering.” He kissed her forehead. “Relax, darlin’. Mind if I shave while you soak?”

  She lifted handfuls of bubbles up and spread them over her shoulders, simply delighted with his consideration. “No. No, go ahead.” The hot water felt good on her sore muscles when she slid down. She sighed. “This feels marvelous. Thank you.”

  He wiggled his eyebrows. “Anytime, ma’am.”

  Watching Storm shave was a very erotic experience. This new intimacy between them was both strange and unexpected. Yesterday she’d moved out of the ranch to protect him and Sawyer. Today she was well loved, taking a bubble bath in his private bathroom.

  “Where did the bubbles come from? You don’t strike me as a bubble bath kinda guy.”

  Storm chuckled and held his razor under water. “They were a birthday gift from Sunny last year. Claimed I needed to get in touch with my feminine side.” He turned to her and asked with a sneer, “Look at me. Do I look like I have a feminine side to you?”

  She giggled and rubbed her arm with a pink bath pouf. “No, not hardly.” He was all male; she had proof of that. A contented smile blossomed.

  He ran the razor down his rugged face. “Sunny gave me a basket with a book called Real Men Like Pink, Too, pink bubble bath and that pink puffy thing you’re using.” He ran the razor under running water again. “And a pair of black boxers with pink roses plastered all over ’em.” He shook his head. “Damn, fool woman. She claimed I wasn’t sensitive to a woman’s feelings.”

  “What did you say to that?” His back was tanned and lean. Muscles rippled as he moved. She could watch him all day.

  “Told her I didn’t need to be sensitive. Women had to learn to accept a man the way he was.”

  “Uh-huh. And did you read the book?” She fought back a smile.

  He turned and glared at her for a beat and then grinned. “Parts of it.” He rinsed off his face and towel dried. Then he pushed down his sweatpants and gave her a lusty look. “Slide forward, mouse, make room.”

  “What? You don’t mean…”

  “The hell I don’t. Why can’t a man take a bath with his woman?” He stepped in behind her, and she slid forward to make room for him. Perhaps this was more intimate than she cared to get.

  “Lean back, I’ll wash your hair.” She glanced over her shoulder to see if he was serious. He held a cup full of water. “Lean back, love.” She did, and he poured water over her hair. He squeezed shampoo in his palm. “Hope you don’t mind my shampoo.”

  “It’s not pink, is it?”

  He tugged a strand of her hair. “Brat.” He gently rubbed in the shampoo, working it into a lather and massaging her scalp. Her toes curled under the surface of the bubbly water and her eyes drifted shut. This very masculine man was shampooing her hair. “Are you feeling all right? No feelings like your sugar levels are low?”

  “No. I’m fine. I don’t think I’ll run this morning. Doubt my legs could hold me.” Storm’s gentle chuckling warmed her.

  He was running fingertips over her scalp and down the length of her hair. The whole slow process was very sensual, and she loved it. His comment broke through her thoughts. “I’ve never seen anyone with hair as long as yours. Guess it takes a lot of care.”

  She leaned her hair back so he could rinse it. “I’m thinking of getting it cut.”

  His hands stilled. Would he tell her not to? Would he dictate how she should wear her hair? Kyle had. “Really?”

  “Yeah. I’m thinking of donating it to Locks of Love, a charity that makes wigs for children with cancer and other medical conditions.”

  He kissed first one shoulder and then the other. “I think that’s a very noble, caring gesture. Some child would be very lucky to get your hair. Maybe I’ll do that, too. How long does your hair have to be?”

  “Ten inches.” She turned to gauge his expression. “You’d be interested in doing that?”

  “To help a kid somewhere? Sure. Seems like such a
simple thing to do. I’d have to let my hair grow longer. I’m proud of you for thinking of doing it. You’re a very caring person, Nurse Rachel.”

  She turned to face him and tilted her head to the side and studied this rugged, very handsome man with the surprisingly tender heart. A man who would consider growing his hair long for Locks of Love was a treasure. He was watching her, too, his one eyebrow cocked. “You’re very special, cowboy.” She placed her wet hands on either side of his face and kissed him, really kissed him.

  Storm’s hands slid up her back. She rose to her knees and intensified the kiss. Her tongue flicked over his lips, and he groaned. “I want you again, mouse.” He laid his forehead against hers and took a deep breath. “I don’t want to make you sore, so I’m going to ask for a rain check. I seem to lose my head when I make love to you. Passion takes over. I’m afraid I get a little rough.”

  She studied his midnight eyes, windows to his soul, a soul she was beginning to know and love with a sweet fierceness. The evidence of his arousal was blatant, yet he was putting her comfort ahead of his needs. Her heart dipped a little more into the chocolate swirl of love. “Sure, I’ll give you a rain check.” She kissed him. “Any time, big guy.”

  “Turn around, mouse, I’ll wash your back.”

  She settled in front of him again and sighed in contentment when he ran warm soapy hands over her skin. “A girl could get used to this.”

  “I’m hoping.” He lifted her wet hair and kissed the back of her neck. Warm, soft kisses. Her nipples tightened. “After breakfast, I’ll empty out some drawers and make room in the closet for your clothes.”

  “Are you suggesting I move into your bedroom?”

  His hands stilled at the tone of her voice. “Haven’t you?”

  She gazed over her shoulder. His eyebrows were furrowed. “No. This is your family’s home. There’s a child here. We can’t just shack up.”

  “Shack up?” His voice held a deathly quiet tone. “Is that what you think this is?” His wet hands were on her shoulders. “Haven’t I shown you how I feel about you? How much you mean to me? You said you love me.”

  “I do.” Her tongue darted out to lick her lower lip. She saw his eyes flicker to that movement and darken.

  Storm stood and stepped out of the tub. He grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist. His anger was palpable. The evidence of his erection was visible under the towel.

  She stood, too, and reached for a towel. “What would Noella think?”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Noella already knows. I told her last night, after I put you to bed, that I’d brought you home. That you were staying with me.” He jerked his head toward the bed. “Here, in my bedroom. I didn’t go into specifics, but I’m sure she put two and two together.”

  Her hands stilled. She’d been towel drying her hair. “You did what? You…you told Noella? What must she think of me? You had no right to tell anyone!”

  She watched his eyes narrow and his control snap. He yanked the towel from her hand and snatched the one she’d just wrapped around her body. Anger and frustration hardened his features. “No right? I had no right?” He lifted her and carried her to his bed. “I’ll show you what gives me the right, and you damned well will move in here with me.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  When Rachel and Storm stepped into the kitchen, Noella was making pancakes. She set her bowl down and hugged Rachel. “Master Storm brought you back to us, sí? You’ll be safer here, little one. We’re having a big family breakfast to celebrate your coming home.” She turned and flipped the pancakes on the griddle.

  “Thank you.” Rachel shot Storm a look. “I’m not sure if I’m happy I’m back or not.”

  Storm ran his hand up Rachel’s back, unable to break physical contact with her. “You’re staying, right?”

  She raised an eyebrow, her expression determined. “Yes, I’m staying, but in my bedroom. Just like we discussed earlier.”

  Storm raised both hands in a surrender gesture. “I’ll keep you any way I can, mouse. I meant what I said upstairs. I won’t try to run your life any more than you’d try to run mine.” He was slowly learning he couldn’t ride roughshod over this little woman. She was every bit as strong willed as he was.

  Their most recent lovemaking had been fierce and passionate. Her scratch marks on his back burned. Yet, what had she said when at last she was able to talk? That she was still moving into her old bedroom. Damn hardheaded, adorable woman. God, how I love her.

  Still, he understood the explanations she’d made upstairs. Kyle had commanded her to live her life the way he wanted. He’d controlled her. Once she broke free of that control, she promised herself she’d take charge of her own life. Storm respected her for that. It took a real strength of character to break the cycle of abuse. Most women couldn’t break the cycle. Not like his Rachel. No, his Rachel had shown grit. She’d taken charge of her life. How could a man not love a woman like that? She’d dug deep in her soul, found a kernel of strength and nurtured it, nurtured it until it became a viable part of her persona.

  If he expected to be a part of her life—and he sure as hell did—he would have to support her in whatever decisions she made. A man would never use her for a doormat, not any more. That fact pleased him. He’d lived with emotionally strong women, Noella and Sunny, and loved and depended on their strength. He could depend on Rachel’s, too. A man was lucky if he had a woman that strong in his life. Damned lucky.

  So he helped her put her clothes away in her bedroom before they came down for breakfast. The act was a small concession if it pleased her. She could keep her clothes anywhere she liked, but when it came to loving and holding and sleeping, well, they were doing it together. He’d see to that. His room, her room, it made no difference.

  Now, obviously pleased, Rachel wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him. “Thank you for not bossing me around. Not that I would stand for it for one moment.”

  He tugged her tight against him and kissed her hair. “What man wouldn’t move heaven and earth to see his woman smile at him like that? There’s not a Texas sunrise that could out-dazzle your smile. Noella, have you ever noticed how Rachel’s eyes are as blue as our Blue Bonnets?”

  Noella placed pancakes on a platter. “You sound like a man in love.”

  Storm kissed Rachel’s nose. “You mean it shows?” Both women laughed.

  Rachel pulled out of the embrace. “I need to get my car back. It’s still at the Dew Drop Inn.”

  “We’ll send the men for it after we eat.” Noella pulled bacon from the oven and set the platter on the table. “Master Storm, Jackson is out on the back porch talking on the phone. Tell him breakfast is ready, please.”

  Jackson turned at the sounds of Storm’s footsteps. He ended his call and shoved the phone into his uniform shirt pocket. “We’ve got a problem.”

  “What?” He was enjoying a great afterglow from his recent lovemaking session with Rachel. He hated to face any problem, big or small.

  The chief of police exhaled an audible sigh. “Someone torched Rachel’s car. It’s totaled.”

  For a minute he stared at his best friend, trying to absorb the incredulity of what Jackson had just told him. “Damn Kyle Benson,” Storm bit out. He shot a glance over his shoulder to make sure Rachel hadn’t followed him outside. “Anyone see anything?”

  “Nora Mae was on duty at the desk at the Dew Drop Inn. She said Rachel’s brother came in looking for her. Said he’d gone to room one-o-six where Rachel said she’d be, but there was no answer. Asked if she’d already checked out to go visit their sick momma?”

  Storm ran a hand through his hair. “Brother? Sick momma? He’s one slick bastard. Bet Nora Mae spilled her guts.”

  “Yeah. Asked him if Rachel’s cute red bug was still parked out there. That she’d seen the silver pickup, with the Triple-S decal on the side, parked there for a few hours. Maybe Rachel left with you. He thanked her, all polite and all. Then he left. Not m
ore than five minutes later, she heard the explosion.”

  Storm’s temper flared. Rachel’s new car was destroyed. “We’re dealing with a maniac.”

  Jackson crossed his arms and studied his boots. “The women and the boy have to be kept safe. Do we send them off somewhere or hunker in here?”

  “I’m for keeping them here. I’ll hire some security people so we aren’t using all your deputies’ time.”

  Jackson nodded his agreement. “Bill Franklin over in Austin has a good firm. Ex-Marines and ex-Rangers.” He flipped open his phone and dialed. “Noella have breakfast ready?” Storm nodded. “I’ll be in as soon as I make arrangements.”

  Storm grabbed Jackson’s arm. “I don’t care how much it costs. You hear? Everyone I love could be in danger.” He turned and stepped inside. He’d need his revolver. How did he keep himself armed with a curious youngster around?

  “Unkie Storm! Will you take me horseback riding after breakfast?” Little Sawyer ran into his arms and hugged him tight. His eyes closed as he held the boy to him. He hadn’t taken Kyle’s threats that seriously. Now? Now, he was on alert mode. He would protect those he held dear.

  “What if we set up your train and play with it? I bet Rachel likes trains. What do ya think? Should we let a girl play with us guys?”

  Sawyer stuck a chubby finger in his mouth and turned to Rachel. “Are…are you a girl, Wachel?”

  Storm laughed. “Oh yeah, she’s a girl all right.” Rachel and Noella both scowled a warning. Sunny smiled a knowing smile, her twin radar obviously picking up vibes this morning.

  “Oh. Do you like twains, Wachel? I’ll share wif you.”

  Rachel laughed and, for a moment, his soul warmed, yearned, dreamed. He dreamed of Rachel big with his child. Their eyes connected across the kitchen. “I love you,” she mouthed. “You, too,” he mouthed in return.

  He’d die before he allowed anything to happen to her. This was how a man should love a woman—totally, fiercely, eternally. His mind touched down on the memory of his father. Sawyer Blackhawk had loved the mother of his children the same way; understanding flowed in, forming a posthumous connection from son to father.