The Marshal's Hostage

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The Marshal's Hostage Page 15

by Delores Fossen


  Dallas managed a nod. “I’d like that.”

  They stood there staring at each other, and when Joelle’s tears didn’t stop, Dallas took her beer and put it aside. Put his on the counter, too, and he hooked his arm around her waist to lead her toward the guest room. She didn’t put up a fight.

  “You need to sleep,” he insisted.

  She didn’t put up a fight about that, either. In fact, it was pretty clear that Joelle wasn’t going to protest anything he did tonight.

  And that made this a very dangerous situation.

  The attraction was always there between them. Maybe even stronger than it’d been when they were teenagers. It would be so easy to start with a kiss that would land them both in the bed for some hot, satisfying sex.

  But she wasn’t in any shape for that.

  They were both dealing with the hurt from the loss of their baby. Both were battling the adrenaline crash from the hellish day. Plenty of good reasons for him to back away, but Dallas still had a hard time doing it.

  The next sound he heard sure didn’t help.

  It was the low rumble of thunder outside. He hadn’t had time to check the weather, but from the sound of it, there was a storm moving in. Joelle wasn’t a fan of bad weather. In fact, years ago it’d been something close to a phobia.

  She froze in the doorway of the guest room, her attention zooming right to the window where the rain was already tapping against the glass. He felt her muscles go stiff, and her breathing became a little uneven.

  “I can sleep outside your room,” he offered. Not exactly the offer he would have made when they were at Rocky Creek. In those days, he’d risked Webb’s wrath by sneaking into her room and holding her until she fell asleep.

  No fear of Webb’s wrath tonight, but holding her—like kissing—would lead to sex.

  He cursed.

  Hell, anything at this point might lead to it.

  She looked up at him. Her eyes were wide. “It’ll be okay.”

  That was a lie, but to call her on it meant he’d have to make that hold-her offer that would get them on the bed together. He would do it. If she pressed it.

  Dallas waited for her to press it.

  And he cursed himself again because part of him wanted her to press.

  Joelle was breathing through her mouth now, and her warm breath was hitting his neck. Almost like a kiss.

  Like before, she studied his eyes. Maybe trying to figure out what to do. But he studied her eyes, too, and he saw the heat there. One touch. Just a brush of his body against hers, and both of them would be goners.

  “Yes,” she whispered because she no doubt knew exactly what he was thinking. She also knew why he hadn’t already latched on to her and started what would be stupid to start.

  Just when Dallas was sure his willpower had turned to dust, she shook her head and stepped away. “It’ll be okay,” Joelle repeated.

  She grimaced at the next rumble of thunder, but while grimacing, she stepped away from him. “Good night, Dallas,” she whispered. “Get some sleep.”

  There was zero chance of that. He was aroused beyond belief, and that aroused part of him was begging him to go to her.

  He didn’t.

  Dallas used every bit of willpower and forced himself to step back and shut the door between them. The last thing he saw was the disappointment, and the heat, flash through Joelle’s eyes.

  Cursing himself, cursing her, and cursing anything and everything he could think of, he went to his room, stripped down to his boxers and got ready for bed.

  Alone.

  Unlike it was for Joelle, the rain soothed him, and he might have been able to fall asleep if it weren’t for the blasted thoughts that just wouldn’t leave him alone. He tossed, turned and groaned when a bolt of lightning jagged through the sky and flashed through his room. The thunder followed, more than a few rumblings this time, and the rain came down harder.

  No way was Joelle sleeping through this.

  That only caused the ache to return, but he reminded himself that she was a grown woman, not the teenager who’d been terrified of storms. It didn’t help with the thoughts or the ache, but thankfully the next jolt of lightning was farther away. Ditto for the thunder.

  Dallas watched the minutes tick off on the clock next to his bed. And soon, there was no more lightning. No more thunder. Just the gentle rain that was barely making a sound.

  Now Joelle would sleep.

  And he hoped the same for him.

  He forced his eyes shut but had to reopen them immediately when he heard a sound. Footsteps. Since he knew from the phone calls he’d made that none of his brothers was home, he thought maybe it was Kirby’s nurse.

  Or worse, Kirby.

  He threw back the covers just as someone threw open his door.

  Definitely not Kirby.

  Joelle.

  Since there were night-lights on in the hall, he had no trouble spotting her. She was wearing a barely there red nightshirt that didn’t cover much.

  “Don’t say a word,” she ordered in a whisper.

  She didn’t have to worry about him speaking. His mouth had gone bone dry, and that got much worse when she closed the door, locked it and pulled off the nightshirt over her head. She dropped it on the floor.

  Instantly she was naked, and he got an instant erection.

  “And please don’t think about turning me down,” Joelle added.

  Dallas had plenty of thoughts, but that wasn’t one of them. And even if he had, turning her down would have pretty much been impossible when she slid like a siren into his bed. He didn’t even let her head hit the pillow. He hauled her closer and put his mouth to hers.

  And she kissed him right back.

  It didn’t start off gentle, and Dallas figured he stood zero chance of trying to slow things down. Maybe because they’d been all these years without each other. That caused an uneasy feeling inside him. A fleeting one because Joelle moved her body against him, lining up her sex with his, and the feeling of raw need overtook any uneasiness.

  She didn’t just stop there, either. She started with touching. Her hand on his chest, and then it made her way to his stomach.

  And, no doubt, she would then head lower.

  Just the thought of it had him seeing stars and had his erection urging him to take her at breakneck speed. Breakneck was fine sometimes, but he wanted this to last a little longer than Joelle apparently had in mind.

  That’s when Dallas made some adjustments of his own. He shifted, dragging her beneath him and pinned her hands to the bed. He kissed her. First her mouth. And then her neck. Because he knew every inch of her body, he also knew what would make her burn. A long, slow kiss at the base of her throat.

  So that’s what he gave her.

  Joelle made a sharp moan but then clamped her teeth over her bottom lip to muffle the sound. But she darn sure didn’t muffle her movements. She lifted her hips, the heels of her feet sinking into the mattress, and all that hot, wet heat between her legs brushed against him.

  Oh, yeah. He saw stars, all right.

  And Joelle started with the touching and kissing again. Dallas held her back. Well, as much as he could, and he kissed her neck. Her breasts and her stomach. He would have done more sampling, but she caught his hair and yanked him back up.

  “We’ll do that later,” she promised.

  Hell. The woman knew how to make him crazy and keep him that way.

  Since it was obvious that he couldn’t keep the pace slow, Dallas fumbled in the nightstand drawer, located a condom and put it on. Joelle helped, and either she was very bad at putting on a condom or else she wanted to torture him. By the time she finally got the darn thing in place, he was well past being ready.

  She thrust her hips forward just as he entered her, and Dallas had to muffle his own sharp groan. This one was from pure pleasure. The sensation of being inside her shot through him. Like lightning. And probably just as hot because he lost his breath and didn’t car
e if he ever got it back.

  He moved.

  Joelle did, too.

  The pace and rhythm was fast and hard and only got faster and harder. With one hand he grabbed her bottom so he could control this war they’d waged on each other. With his other hand, he caught her hair and bent her head so that he could go after her neck.

  Yeah, it was playing dirty.

  But she was so caught up in the pleasure of it that she slowed down just enough for Dallas to take her the way he wanted to take her. A few strokes of slow and easy that had her making that little purring whimper that had haunted him for all these years.

  Joelle purred, all right. And with another of those siren moves, she lifted herself to him one last time.

  Before she shattered.

  “Dallas,” she said, her voice strained.

  That was enough for him. All he needed. He gathered her close and let Joelle finish what she’d started.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Joelle felt the unfamiliar warmth next to her body, and her eyes flew open. She would have scrambled right off the bed if someone hadn’t grabbed her and pulled her back.

  Dallas was that warmth.

  And the memories of what had caused it came flooding back. She was at the ranch. In his bed. And she’d brazenly thrown herself at him.

  Thank goodness he hadn’t refused her.

  Well, she hoped it was thank goodness. There would probably be consequences, but Joelle pushed those aside, turned and looked up at the man who had her wrapped in his arms.

  “It’s around five,” he grumbled, though she had no idea how he knew that since he didn’t even open his eyes to check the time.

  She glanced at the clock. Yep, he was right. Barely five in the morning. The sun wasn’t even up yet. And although they had a ton of stuff to do and discuss, she settled back against him and let herself enjoy the moment.

  “I’ve never woken up next to you before,” she whispered. Joelle glanced down at their positions on the bed. “You hog the covers.”

  He chuckled, the sound a low rumble in his chest, and he pulled her even closer against him. More warmth. More memories, too. The memories got a little fresher when he nuzzled the back of her neck.

  She made a shameless sound of pleasure. “You’ve gotten better at this over the years. All that practice you did on me must have helped.”

  “You weren’t practice, Joelle.” His voice was still a sleepy mumble so it took her a moment to realize what he’d said.

  And what he didn’t say.

  “Then what was I?” she asked.

  “Trouble.” Dallas rolled her over and kissed her. “You still are.”

  It seemed like a light answer for something she knew they’d soon have to discuss. Or rather clarify. After all, never once had he told her how he felt about her. But she looked at his face and sort of lost that train of thought.

  Oh, mercy.

  How could anyone look that good at this time of day? Maybe it was the semidarkness, but Joelle didn’t think so.

  Dallas hadn’t been practice for her, that’s for sure.

  He’d been her benchmark, and no man since had quite measured up. Maybe no one ever would. Not exactly a comforting thought for a woman who wanted marriage and kids.

  She ran her hand between them. “You didn’t have all this chest hair when you were seventeen.” She liked it. A lot. Joelle tugged at some of the strands until he winced and opened one eye to peek out.

  “Put your hand lower and do that, and I might wake up.”

  Now she chuckled, and her hand was already heading in that direction when a buzzing sound cut through the room. Both of them cursed, and Dallas leaned over her to pick up his cell, which was on the nightstand.

  “It’s Lindsey,” he relayed, adding the exact profanity that Joelle was thinking. Dallas hesitated, as if he might not answer it at all, but then his attention went back to the clock.

  Judging from the hour, this probably wasn’t a casual call. Still leaning over her, Dallas hit the answer button, and without actually picking up the phone, he put the call on speaker. “What the hell is wrong now?” he greeted.

  Joelle hoped that a miracle would happen and that Lindsey would say she had good news. That their names had been miraculously cleared. But Lindsey didn’t answer at all. Not with words, anyway. The woman was sobbing.

  Dallas rolled his eyes. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why the tears?”

  Lindsey said something, but Joelle couldn’t make out what. The woman’s sobs got worse.

  “Lindsey?” Joelle tried. “You have to tell us what’s wrong.”

  “It’s Owen.” Joelle heard that part loud and clear, but it took several more moments of loud crying for Lindsey to continue. “I went to his place, and he was packing. He was planning to run out on all of us. On me.”

  Dallas grumbled more profanity, got off the bed and started to dress. Joelle did the same, though the only thing she had in the room was her nightshirt. Still, she’d have to dress because it was apparent that Owen was about to skip bail.

  “Did you call the sheriff or the marshals’ office?” Dallas asked.

  “No,” Lindsey answered. “I shot him.”

  Dallas had been about to step into his jeans, but he froze. So did Joelle. “Who did you shoot?” he demanded.

  “Owen.” The sobs turned to hysterics now. “I shot him, and he might be dying.”

  Joelle looked at Dallas to see if he believed what Lindsey was saying. He apparently did. So did Joelle. It was possible that Lindsey was faking all the crying, but it seemed genuine. Plus she suspected that Lindsey wasn’t exactly emotionally stable right now.

  “Where are you?” Dallas asked. He continued to dress while he waited for Lindsey to answer.

  “Owen’s house in town. I didn’t know what to do. Who to call.”

  “An ambulance would have been a good start,” Dallas answered. “Hang up right now and call 911. Tell them exactly what you just told me.”

  “I will.” She paused again, and Joelle could hear someone mumbling in the background. “You should come out here. Owen says he has some things to tell Joelle and you.”

  “What things?” Dallas demanded.

  “Something about Jonah Webb’s murder.”

  And with that, Lindsey ended the call. Hopefully so she would phone an ambulance. However, Dallas didn’t trust her to do that because he motioned for Joelle to get dressed, and he made the call himself and then asked the dispatcher to give him an update on Owen’s condition as soon as possible.

  Joelle hurried, and she tried to focus just on getting dressed, but the thoughts racing through her head slowed her down. She had to consider that this was some sort of ruse by Lindsey. But what if it wasn’t?

  What if Owen really was dying?

  After everything he’d done and tried to do to Dallas and to her, Joelle despised the man, but she truly hoped that Lindsey hadn’t murdered him.

  She was still dressing when Dallas appeared in the doorway. “I told Kirby’s nurse what’s going on. Harlan is walking over here now to stay with them while I’m gone. I’d like for you to stay here, too.”

  Harlan was Dallas’s foster brother and a fellow marshal. A man she trusted as she did all his brothers. From what she’d learned in her background checks, he lived in a house on the grounds of the ranch, which meant it shouldn’t take him long to arrive.

  Joelle shook her head. “I want to go with you. I want to find out what’s going on.”

  He gave her a flat look, then lifted his cell. “That’s what phones are for.”

  Since he looked ready to leave without hearing her argument, Joelle caught his arm. “If Owen’s alive, I’d like to hear what he has to say. By the time we get into town, he’ll be at the hospital anyway.”

  “But I’ll want to question Lindsey,” he argued. “And I don’t want you anywhere near her, especially if she tried to murder Owen.”

  “Fine.” Joelle wasn’t exactly thrilled to be near Lind
sey, either. “Talk to her. You can do that after we see Owen and after the sheriff has taken her into custody.”

  She braced herself to continue the argument, but Dallas glanced at the time on his phone. The seconds were ticking away fast.

  And Owen could be dying while they debated this.

  Joelle wasn’t sure the man had any revelations about Webb’s killer, but at this point, he was their best shot at learning the truth. Because she was almost positive that Owen had either murdered Webb himself or else he knew the identity of the killer.

  She heard another buzzing sound. Not Dallas’s phone but rather the security system. Joelle hurriedly put on her shoes, the blasted heels that she intended to burn first chance she got, and raced after Dallas. By the time she made it to the front door, he had disarmed the security system and was letting Harlan inside.

  Harlan shucked off his raincoat and Stetson, and his gaze lingered a moment on his brother before it came to her. Though he didn’t smile, she thought he might be pleased to see her. It was always hard to tell with Harlan. He had a quiet intensity about him that could be a little unnerving.

  “You’re back?” Harlan asked her. Joelle followed his gaze down to her neck and wondered if there was a love bite there. Probably. Dallas knew it was her hot spot and the kisses had gotten pretty intense when they’d had sex. So, the “you’re back” comment took on a whole new meaning, and Harlan likely wanted to know if she and Dallas were back together.

  They weren’t.

  But Joelle didn’t have time to get into that now.

  “If you can, get me any updates on Owen and the evidence the CSIs pulled out of Rocky Creek,” Dallas instructed Harlan. “And rearm the security system when we leave.” He opened the door and did a lawman’s surveillance of the front of the house.

  “You expecting trouble?” Harlan asked him.

  “I think it’s already here.”

  That sent Harlan’s gaze back to her again. Specifically, back to her neck. Joelle didn’t address it but instead followed Dallas to his truck, which was parked at the edge of the porch steps. Good thing, too, because it was still raining. No lightning or thunder, thank God, but it was a slow, steady downpour.

 

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