Jed (The Rock Creek Six Book 4)

by Linda Winstead Jones

  Only his presence kept her from succumbing to complete panic. His warmth and his voice were so near, and they comforted her. In truth, they were a tether to her sanity.

  She shook her head slowly. “There are too many,” she whispered.

  “Pick a few.”

  Did she want to spend her last night reminiscing about her regrets? She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said there were too many to list. But she didn’t want to sit here in silence, either. In complete darkness she could see nothing. She could just feel, and smell, and hear. She didn’t want silence to go with the darkness.

  “I wish I’d spent more time with Rose, instead of waiting until this calamity brought me here,” she said. “I should have stood up to my father when he insisted that she was no longer my sister, and after he died... After he died I should have asked Rose to come home and bring her family with her.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  How like Jed Rourke. Right to the point. “I don’t know.” The stone was cold beneath her backside, even with Jed’s coat spread across the floor. Now that they were no longer moving at a steady pace, the air seemed colder, almost icy. “Father was not an easy man to defy, and after he passed away... I don’t know. Maybe I was afraid she’d say no. Maybe I was afraid she’d say yes, and come home, and then turn out to be like everyone else.” Like the friends who came to her when they needed money, like the men who courted her with one eye on her and the other on her bank account.

  “What else,” Jed asked, not pressing for explanations. “What else do you regret?”

  It didn’t matter that she might die here. She was not about to reveal her deepest regrets to Jed Rourke. “I regret that I never went to Paris.”

  “Paris, Texas?” he asked, puzzled. “Ain’t nothing special. I can tell you that.”

  “Paris, France,” she said with a smile in the dark. “And Egypt and Italy and the Orient. I’ve read so many books about those places, in the comfort and safety of my library, but until I came here I’d never stepped foot out of Alabama.”

  “Rock Creek is a harsh place to start your world travels,” Jed said with a touch of humor.

  “Yes, I realize that.”

  She didn’t want to sit here and agonize over all her mistakes! The prospect was much too depressing.

  “What about you, Jed? Do you truly have no regrets? Not a single one?”

  He breathed long and slow. The sound was comforting in the dark. Real and honest. “Well, maybe one.”

  “I knew it. I told you my deepest regrets, the least you can do is share your one.”

  He shifted his big body beside her, sighed once. “Ever since I met you, I’ve wanted to do something.”

  Her smile faded. Whatever he wanted, it would likely not be pleasant. She remembered when they’d first met, on the stage to Rock Creek. They’d argued constantly, and he’d had to forcibly carry her away from the road. She’d called him something terrible, hadn’t she? On more than one occasion.

  His hand on her shoulder startled her, and as that hand moved slowly and cautiously to her cheek she knew what Jed wanted, what he regretted not doing. He was going to hit her. Well, it was only fair. She’d slapped him soundly, once, and had whacked him with her cane on more than one occasion.

  And now it was her fault he was trapped in a cold, dark cave. He’d come here to rescue her, after she’d stupidly followed the instructions she’d received in the anonymous note.

  She closed her eyes and steeled herself for the blow that was sure to come. Jed was a gentleman, in his own way, so she expected the blow would be tempered, somewhat.

  When he laid her lips over hers she was so shocked she jerked slightly away. But when she realized what it was that Jed regretted, that he had no intention of hitting her, she leaned forward and into the kiss.

  His lips were firm and tender, and when he placed his hand at the back of her head she felt completely and totally encompassed in warmth and affection. Oh, you wouldn’t think it to look at the man, but he had a gentle way about him, when it was appropriate.

  Jed moved his mouth over and against hers, tasting and raking, nibbling and sucking. Hannah tasted back. They shifted their bodies gradually and drifted close to each other, an arm lifting here, a shoulder dropping here. When Jed tilted his head and pressed his face to hers, his mustache hairs tickled her nose and the roughness of his beard rubbed roughly against her chin. She liked it. She liked it all.

  And all the while they kissed, her insides leaped and her heart constricted. She couldn’t breathe properly. Her knees began to wobble.

  Jed broke the kiss, suddenly and with a muttered curse. For a moment she wondered if she’d done something wrong. Good heavens, she didn’t want him to stop.

  “Hannah Winters,” he finally whispered, “you take my breath away.”

  Hannah decided that was, perhaps, the nicest compliment she’d ever received. Still, thank you seemed inappropriate at the moment. “That was... nice.” Oh, she was never at a loss for words! Jed would think she was a stammering idiot. “And I’m not quite so cold anymore, except for my backside,” she added quickly, trying to salvage her pride. “I swear, I feel like I’m sitting on a block of ice.”

  Before she knew what he intended, Jed scooped her up and dragged her onto his lap, facing him. Strong arms locked around her waist, and he held her there.

  “Better?” he asked gruffly.

  Hannah wound her arms around his neck, to steady herself and for additional warmth. “Yes, thank you. Much better.” She’d never sat in a man’s lap before, so she held herself stiffly away from him, trying for a proper position. Not that it mattered. No one could see her here, not even Jed.

  “Relax,” he said, tugging slightly against her waist so that she fell against his chest.

  She did, allowing herself to melt into his broad chest and lay her head on his shoulder. He held her close and tight, his arms securely around her. It just made sense, she reasoned, for them to share body heat in these dire circumstances.

  “Nice,” he mumbled, his mouth close to her ear.

  “Well, it was,” she whispered. “Forgive me if my response wasn’t eloquent enough for you.”

  He muttered something that was surely obscene.

  “Scoundrel,” she whispered.

  “Hussy,” he countered.

  “Shaggy beast,” she said softly, and not without affection, her fingers finding and ever so softly caressing the ends of his long hair.

  “Virgin,” Jed sighed. “I swear to God, Hannah, if you weren’t a... a damned lady, I’d have you here and now. You make me crazy, and I want, more than anything”—he took a deep, stilling breath—“never mind.”

  For the first time, she was glad of the darkness. She didn’t want Jed to see her face at the moment.

  “I’m not, you know,” she whispered.

  “A hussy?” Jed asked, shifting his weight and readjusting her on his lap. “Hell, I know...”

  “A virgin,” she interrupted.

  No regrets. She didn’t know what it was like to live that way, to take what you wanted and everyone else be damned. Oh, she could be difficult, she knew that, and she was accustomed to having her way. But that didn’t mean she always got what she wanted.

  She lifted her head and laid her hand over Jed’s beard-roughened cheek. Her thumb brushed his mouth, and as she leaned forward to kiss him she had no regrets. Not a single one.

  * * *

  The information sank into Jed’s muddled brain as Hannah, amazingly enough, kissed him. She came to him hesitantly, the muscles in the shapely back he caressed taunt and her kiss uncertain. He was pretty sure she held her breath.

  She took her mouth from his, dragging her lips slowly away and hesitating so that at the last second their mouths barely touched. “Do you mind?” she whispered, and he heard the uncertainty in her lowered voice.

  He threaded his fingers through the hair at the back of her head and held her close. “That you’re no
t a virgin?”

  She nodded. He couldn’t see her, but he felt the uncertain dip of her head.

  He kissed her quickly and softly, his mouth barely touching hers. “Not if you don’t mind that I’m not a virgin, either,” he teased. He couldn’t deny that he was curious, but the questions he had could wait. The way he felt right now, those questions could wait all night. Maybe even forever.

  Since the moment he’d met Hannah he’d alternately wanted and cursed her. Now that he had her in his lap, cuddly and willing and with no avenue of escape, he didn’t know where to start. Damnation, he’d never not known where to start before!

  He wanted their coming together to be perfect, for her and for him. He didn’t want her to regret this, whether they found their way out tomorrow morning or not.

  While he kissed her, he brushed his hand up her side and over the swell of her breast. She filled his hand, soft, warm, and full, and inhaled sharply when he brushed his palm over her nipple. But she didn’t draw away or stop kissing him.

  Hannah kissed like she did everything else, no holds barred. There was innocence in the way she came to him, as if she’d never kissed before, but there was no shyness in the way she tasted and sucked, or in the way she answered when he slipped his tongue into her mouth.

  If this really was the end, if tonight was his last night on this earth... Hell, he couldn’t think of anyone he’d rather spend it with.

  He snaked his hand beneath Hannah’s skirt, feeling his way up her leg. Again she tensed, her entire body stiffening in his arms. But she relaxed slowly, unfolding in his arms and accepting the presence of his hand on her calf, her knee, her thigh. His palm skimmed over the garter, and he stopped his upward progress to trail his fingers over it. He felt silk and lace, a satin ribbon.

  “Black,” she whispered, taking her mouth from his just long enough to breathe the single word.

  “What?” he muttered.

  “The garter,” she said, raking her mouth over his. “It’s black, with a small, pink satin rose on the side.”

  He found the rose with his fingers. Damnation, black was almost as sexy as red. Impossibly, he got harder, more impatient to be inside her. What was wrong with him? He wasn’t a kid about to get his first lay!

  And neither was she.

  He left his examination of her garter behind and trailed his hand up her leg, his fingers teasing as they crossed from stockinged leg to silky bare thigh. The skin he caressed was soft and yielding, warm and sensitive. Hannah quivered as he rocked his fingers there. He felt the quiver in her lips as well as in her thigh, just as he felt his own growing urgency in the thud of his heart and the growing ache in his body.

  When he touched her intimately she inhaled sharply and stiffened, but only for a moment. After her initial reaction she melted against him, and as he began to stroke with his fingers she parted her legs a little wider and deepened the kiss that continued uninterrupted.

  He had long ago stopped feeling the cold air that filled the cave. Right now all he felt was Hannah, her willingness and her desire, and his own need to have her. It drowned out everything else.

  With his arms supporting her as if she might break, he laid her down on his buckskin coat and pushed her skirt high. She kissed him while he hovered above her, anxiously working the buttons that held his trousers closed, freeing himself to sink inside her at last.

  She spread her legs wide, wrapped them around him as he guided himself inside her wet, tight body.

  Her body yielded to him, but the acceptance was gradual, almost prudent. She wasn’t afraid, he knew she wasn’t afraid, but she was cautious. Uncertain, still. He pushed deeper with care, taking his time, mindful that he didn’t want to hurt her, not even a little. Taking his time at this moment was the hardest thing he’d ever done, but it was right, and it was worth it. With every moment that passed, every heartbeat, every sigh, she gave more of herself to him.

  And then he was inside her, completely, fully. He hated the darkness, because he wanted to see her face. He wanted to watch her shatter beneath him. He wanted to see her lips as they parted and cried out.

  He stroked gently, withdrawing and thrusting to fill her again. Soon she began to rock with him, to meet each thrust with one of her own.

  They were so in tune he felt every change in Hannah: the way she rose to him, the catch in her breath, the increasingly insistent beat of her heart. She held him tight and swayed against him, and when she climaxed, her inner muscles squeezed and milked him. She inhaled sharply, and exhaled with his name on her tongue.

  One last time he buried himself inside her, thrusting deep and hard as he pumped his seed and gave in to the most intense pleasure he’d ever known.

  Ah, he could die happy here. He could lay his head down on Hannah and expire in the dark a very happy man.

  “Oh, my,” she said breathlessly as she draped her arms around his neck, “that was extraordinary.”

  “Extraordinary. That’s a lot better than nice,” he teased.

  “Yes, but... but it was so... so...”

  He laid his forehead against hers. Maybe she wasn’t a virgin, but what had happened between them had been a new experience for her. He had felt it in her response and he heard it now, in her voice. “You want to tell me about it?” he whispered.

  “No,” she said softly. “Not... not like this.”

  He kissed her, sensing that Hannah needed to be kissed every bit as much as he’d needed to be inside her.

  * * *

  Clothes righted, hearts beating slower, Hannah and Jed snuggled between his buckskin coat and her velvet cloak. She still glowed from the inside out, with a warmth that didn’t fade now that the lovemaking was over.

  She had never known there was such pleasure to be had from being with a man.

  “Do you want to tell me now?” Jed whispered.

  She sighed and nestled up against him, for comfort more than warmth. “I hardly think you would find the story interesting.”

  “Is he one of your regrets?” His low-pitched voice rumbled within his chest, against her ear.

  “The big one,” she whispered.

  “When we get out of here, do you want me to kill him for you?”

  In spite of the apparent seriousness of his offer, she smiled widely. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.”

  She was lost inside a huge rock formation, deep within the earth, and might not find her way out. Wishing Rock might be her gravestone, and yet... at the moment she felt no panic. How could she? Jed held her fast, and her body still thrummed with the memory of what they’d shared.

  “His name,” she said softly, “was Richard.” Handsome, sweet, refined Richard. “I’d known him all my life. I told you what had happened with Rose, how she and Baxter ran off not long after the war began. Well, for the next few years, there was no talk of suitors or marriage or anything other than war and survival.

  “When the war was finally over, my father found himself in better financial shape than his neighbors. He’d buried most of his money, and when the war was over he became close to those he needed to befriend in order to keep what he had. Many times, when we were alone, he said that while he was loyal to the Confederacy he was not stupid.” Goodness, she had never known a more stupid man than her father! Why hadn’t she realized it then?

  The air in the cave was cold, but she was not. Jed’s chest was hard but comfortable to rest against. She felt sheltered here. For the first time in her life, someone protected her. Against the cold, against loneliness.

  “It wasn’t long after the war that Richard came calling,” she said lowly. “He was attentive and gracious, and completely relentless.”

  Jed stiffened. “Did he force himself on you? If he did, I swear, I’ll...”

  “No,” she interrupted.

  Jed’s entire, wonderful body, the length and breadth of it, eased in her arms.

  “After several months of arduous courting, Richard took me aside and told me he loved me. He a
sked me to marry him, and in the heat of the moment, we... we...”

  “I don’t need the details of this part,” Jed said roughly. “I don’t think I’d like it.”

  She would spare him the details of the way Richard had taken her virginity, quickly and painfully, against a stable wall. She would spare him, as well, the mortifying detail that she hadn’t cared that it had been painful, that she had thought herself in love and willing to do anything and everything to keep that love alive.

  “We went to my father to tell him the good news, and for Richard to formally ask for my hand in marriage.” She felt the cold again. No matter how warm Jed was, no matter how tightly he held her, the chill would not abate. “My father refused,” she whispered. “He told Richard that if he took me as his wife I was all he’d get. That if I married him I’d go with nothing but the clothes on my back.” She swallowed hard. “I was ready to go, to run away with the man who loved me, the way Rose had. To escape from that house and my father.”

  Jed ran his hands up and down her back, comforting her as if he knew what was coming.

  “Richard didn’t even look at me as he left,” she whispered. “He just turned and walked away. I could still feel him inside me. I burned and bled, and even worse, I could hear his words, I love you, echoing in my ears, knowing as he closed the door behind him that it had been a lie.”

  “Maybe I will kill him,” Jed whispered.

  Hannah ignored him. She had never spoken about this to anyone. Not ever. She tried so hard not to even think about that night. “After Richard left, my father told me that if I was going to be foolish enough to spread my legs for every man who told me he loved me, that I’d damn well better learn to be careful about it, because if I shamed him with rumors or a bastard child he’d kick me out without a dime. He told me, in no uncertain terms, that I wasn’t the kind of woman who would inspire a great love. Such honors were reserved for beauties like Rose.”

  “Your father sounds like a real son of a bitch.”

  “He was a lonely, bitter man.”

  Jed kissed the top of her head. “He was also wrong. You’re the most remarkable woman I’ve ever met. If that Richard had found himself momentarily with even half a brain, he would’ve carried you out of there that night and told your father to go to hell.”