His Defender

by Stella Bagwell

  “If Alona went to Chama to work for the man, that meant she left the reservation,” Ross reasoned out loud.

  Nodding, Isabella said quietly, “Mother says that was the biggest mistake of her life—leaving her home and the people who’d always protected her.”

  “Did she ever remarry?”

  Isabella shook her head. “No. She says it’s not because of Winston. But I know better. He ruined her life. After she became pregnant and learned that Winston already had a wife, her own parents deserted her. They were so ashamed of their daughter’s behavior that they left the reservation and shunned her until they died.”

  Incredulous, he stared at her. “Bella, that’s incredible! You mean her own parents didn’t help her?”

  “They not only didn’t help her, they broke all ties with her. I never knew that set of grandparents, and it’s obvious…they didn’t want to know me.” She tossed away the piece of grass and turned her head to look at him. “Mother has photos of them, but she keeps them hidden.”

  Her eyes were full of dark shadows and Ross found himself wanting to pull her into his arms, to assure her that her family had been wrong, that none of it had been her fault. He wanted to see her gray eyes smiling, not filled with bitter pain.

  “Have you looked at the photos?”

  Her lashes fluttered downward, her jaw tightened. “Yes.”

  “What was it like, looking at your grandparents?”

  She sighed. “Like looking at two strangers,” she said starkly, then with a shrug of one shoulder, she cast him a brief smile. “I don’t grieve over them, Ross, if that’s what you’re wondering. My mother’s father-in-law and mother-in-law, the Corrales, were wonderful grandparents to me. And even though their son was no longer living, they remained close and helpful to his widow.”

  At least there were some people in her family who’d been loving and accepting, Ross thought. “Does Alona live on the reservation now?”

  “Yes, in the same house she lived in with Lee before he was killed.”

  As Ross studied her face, he wondered why her life, her family and future interested him. Normally when he was with a woman, he never had the inclination to learn those sorts of things. He didn’t have to know about a woman’s family or what was in her heart to enjoy an evening of her company. But when he was around Isabella, everything seemed to be different and important to him. The notion was damn scary.

  “Do you plan to live with your mother when you return to the reservation?”

  Isabella laughed softly. “No. I love my mother, but we couldn’t live together. I’ve rented a house in town—in Dulce.”

  Ross couldn’t remember the last time he’d been through that small community of Apaches. Probably when he’d driven up to Pagosa Springs to do some elk hunting more than a year ago. Except for the gambling casino that had been built nearby, he doubted the place had grown all that much from the few stores and houses that he could recall. For the life of him, he couldn’t figure why Isabella would want to settle in such a desolate place. Not when she wanted to practice law.

  “Uh…when do you think you’ll be moving there?”

  A sly grin parted her lips and exposed her beautiful white teeth. “Already getting tired of having me underfoot?”

  “No,” he said, and was surprised at how much he meant it. If Neal could only hear him now, he’d be shaking his head, Ross thought. The lawyer would probably want to know how Ross had gone from wanting to fire Isabella to inviting her to be his houseguest on the T Bar K. Actually, Ross wasn’t sure himself how that had happened. He just knew he wasn’t at all ready for Isabella to leave.

  “You’re welcome to stay,” he added, “as long as…need be.”

  His quietly spoken words were as warm and seductive as the curl of a finger inviting her closer. She tried to tell herself that he was a practiced charmer, that he knew just what to say to a woman and the perfect moment to say it. Yet she couldn’t deny that the interest he’d shown her was a sweet treat for a woman who’d purposely starved herself of male companionship.

  “I’m…not sure when I’ll be moving to Dulce. Right now I’m still waiting for the carpenters to finish the work on the building I’m going to use as an office.”

  He smiled. “That’s good. That means you’ll have more time to focus your attention on me—uh, on my case,” he quickly corrected as he saw her brows pull together in a faint frown.

  Rising to her feet, Isabella brushed the dirt and twigs from the seat of her jeans. “As I told you before, Ross, I’m not here on the T Bar K for your entertainment.”

  Ross climbed to his feet and Isabella glanced up at him as his hand closed around her upper arm.

  “I’m not flirting with you, Isabella,” he said starkly.

  The corners of her mouth turned downward as she gazed at him with obvious skepticism. “Really? It sounds like it to me.”

  “Maybe it does. But I—” Frustrated, he shook his head. “Oh, hell, I never was good at being subtle. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I like you. I like having you around. Is there anything wrong with that?”

  Everything was wrong with it, she thought. He wasn’t the type of man she could have a casual relationship with. He wasn’t a man who would be satisfied simply holding a woman’s hand. He’d want more and Isabella wasn’t prepared to give it. Not to a man who would clearly break her heart if she gave him half a chance.

  Nervously, she moistened her lips. “I’m glad you like me, Ross. But—”

  He tugged on her arm, urging her closer. “But what?” he prompted. “You’re afraid I’ll get to liking you too much? Well, honey, I’ll let you in on a little secret. I’m afraid of that, too.”

  Isabella’s palms flattened against his chest as she attempted to prevent her body from making contact with his.

  “Then maybe we’d better keep our distance from each other,” she countered, her voice taut.

  One corner of his lips twisted upward as his gaze traveled over her soft features. “We probably should do just that, Isabella. But I can’t stay away from you. Not now. In fact, I can’t forget about kissing you last night. I’ve wanted to do it again. And again,” he added in a low whisper.

  Isabella could see his head lowering toward hers, and she realized what was about to happen, but she couldn’t seem to make herself do a thing about it, except wait for the touch of his lips on hers.

  When it happened, she moaned helplessly and pushed ever so slightly against his chest. But her feeble protest went unheeded as his hands splayed against her back and slowly drew her up against him.

  The scent of horses, soap and leather clung to his clothes and mixed with the musky male scent of his body. Isabella breathed it in as her lips parted for him like a sweet flower opening for raindrops.

  Her welcome response stunned him with longing and he thrust his tongue between her teeth and tasted the intimate contours of her mouth. It was like dark, rich honey, he thought. Incredibly rich, and he was unable to resist.

  The boldness of his kiss should have shocked Isabella, should have sent alarm bells clanging in her head. But it felt too perfect, too right to do anything except give him her lips any way he wanted them.

  As he feasted on their softness, she moaned softly in her throat and instinctively arched her body against him. Ross complied with her needy reaction by bringing his hands to the front of her shirt and cupping his fingers over her small, firm breasts.

  Shaken by how much she wanted his hands on her bare flesh, she groaned and strained to get closer. Ross quickly parted the top two buttons on her shirt and slipped a hand inside her bra until his fingers came in contact with her nipple. It was rigid and her whole breast seemed to swell against the palm of his hand.

  Desperate to taste her, he tore his mouth from hers and bent his head. Isabella cried out with sheer pleasure as he took her lace-covered nipple between his teeth and lips and rolled it around his tongue.

  Oh dear heaven, he was making her crazy. If he
didn’t stop—if she didn’t make him stop, she was going to wind up making love to him right here on the grass!

  With all the strength she could muster, she pushed herself away and quickly turned her back to him. As she refastened her clothing, she realized her heart was beating out of control and the pine boughs above their heads seemed to be whirling as if a tornado had just swept past them. Her body was as hot as a furnace and she could feel a trickle of sweat slowly coursing a track between her breasts.

  “Bella,” he murmured thickly as his hands closed over her shoulders. “I—wasn’t expecting that to happen. I didn’t bring you out here to—seduce you.”

  She breathed deeply and prayed that her head would clear. But how could she hope for that, she wondered desperately, as long as he was touching her, as long as his body was pressed against the back of hers?

  “No,” she said hoarsely. “But that doesn’t make what we were doing…very wise.” She twisted back around to face him and was instantly shocked at how much she wanted to taste his lips again, to feel their hard warmth and the magic they created with her senses.

  “If a man only did what was wise,” he said lowly, “he’d be living a boring life.”

  Her fingers curled into his chest as desire raced through her veins like a potent narcotic.

  “Maybe,” she whispered. “But at least it would be a safe life.”

  He chuckled as he lowered his lips back to hers, and Isabella could no more resist him this time than she could have seconds ago.

  Her eyes fell shut as his mouth angled possessively over hers and his hands explored the curves and contours of her back. Hot blood sang in her ears, deafening the whisper of the wind in the pines and the grass around their feet. And with each passing moment, Isabella felt herself slipping to a place where nothing existed except Ross and the heated pressure of his lips, the tight band of his arms and the rock-solid wall of his chest crushed against her breasts.

  Frightened by the headlong rush of pleasure and the notion that this time she wouldn’t be able to stop him or herself, Isabella managed to tear her mouth from his and pull out of the embrace.

  This time she walked several steps away from him and with her back to him, she gulped in ragged breaths and pressed her palms to her heated cheeks. She’d never felt so shameless, so out of control in her life. But, oh my, it had felt so good in his arms. Too good, she thought desperately.

  “Isabella, are you—” Once again, his hand came down on her shoulder and the gentle touch went straight to her heart. “Are you all right?”

  Her throat tightened, forcing her to swallow. “Yes. I’m just…a little angry at myself.”

  His fingers smoothed back and forth across the slope of her shoulder. “Why? Because you were enjoying what we were doing?”

  Did he have to put it so bluntly? she wondered crossly. I never was good at being subtle. Quickly, his words came back to remind her that, if anything, he was honest. That meant she had to be equally honest with him.

  “I was enjoying it, Ross,” she murmured thickly. “Too much. But that’s not why I’m angry at myself. I—”

  Desperate to make him understand, she turned and looked up at him with somber gray eyes. “I swore I would never make the same mistake my mother made. And if I let myself get involved with you, that’s just what I’d be doing.”

  As soon as her words were out, a myriad of emotions paraded across his face. Surprise, anger and frustration.

  “You think I’m in the same caliber as Winston Jones. Is that what you’re telling me?”

  Did she? Not really. But he was still a man who dallied with women’s affections and, like Winston with Alona, he didn’t have a serious intention toward her.

  “Not exactly. But—”

  “You think I’d desert my own child?” he asked, his voice incredulous.

  “No. I think you’d probably be a wonderful father. Given the chance. But—you don’t want to be a father. Or a husband. You said so yourself.”

  An irritated frown creased his forehead. “What’s that got to do with me kissing you or you kissing me?” he wanted to know. “Do you think you should only kiss men who have intentions of marrying you? Is that it?”

  Hot color swept up her neck and face. “No—oh, you don’t understand, Ross,” she said impatiently. “And it doesn’t matter anyway.”

  Quickly, she turned away from him and headed to where the horses were tethered. She was untying Trixie’s reins when Ross came up behind her and put a staying hand on her arm.

  “I want to understand, Bella. Tell me.”

  Her head dropped as a sinking weight seemed to fill her heart. “I don’t want to fall in love with you, Ross. We’re two completely different people. And you’re the very last man on earth who could give me what I want.”

  His fingers tightened ever so slightly on her arm as he studied her bent head. “That makes me feel real good, Bella.”

  The sarcasm in his voice made Isabella’s heart wince. Forgetting the bridle reins, she twisted her upper body around to face him. “I’m not trying to insult you, Ross. I’m just speaking the truth. You have no desire to become a family man. And I—”

  Suddenly all the hopes and dreams she’d ever had for herself swept through her and filled her with so much emotion she couldn’t go on.

  “You what?” he prompted.

  Isabella turned her gaze toward the green meadow that stretched to the right of them. “I want a man who will give me a home and children, who will support my job. I don’t want to be like my mother who had to raise an illegitimate daughter alone, who had her heart so broken she can’t even think of marrying a man.”

  Gently, he took her by the shoulders and turned her toward him. “Bella, you’re getting a little carried away. We only kissed and you start worrying about having an illegitimate child.”

  More hot color seeped into her cheeks. She knew she sounded like some sort of rigid spinster, but the desire she felt for this man was so great she knew it was going to be a constant struggle to keep from touching him, inviting him to kiss her again. And again.

  “One thing leads to another,” she murmured.

  Shaking his head, he let out a disappointed sigh. “I would never put you in such a predicament.”

  “I never believed you would. It’s just that I…can’t be this close to you anymore.” It was too dangerous to her heart, her mind, her sense of well-being, she thought. “Please don’t…ask me to be,” she added hoarsely, then before he could reply, she jammed on her hat and turned to collect Trixie’s reins.

  Once she’d tossed them around the mare’s neck, Ross could see she was intent on leaving, and, though he wasn’t ready, he helped her into the saddle, then mounted his own horse.

  Silently they rode across the western edge of the secret meadow, then back onto the shaded cattle trail that would return them to the T Bar K. Deeper into the woods, the path narrowed down to single file and Ross automatically took the lead. Behind him, Isabella’s shoulders slumped wearily.

  She should have never made an issue about the kissing, she scolded herself. She should have pretended to be casual and experienced, to be the sort of woman he liked and was accustomed to holding in his arms. Now, with all that talk, she’d done about marriage and a family, she’d probably given him the idea that she was getting serious about him.

  It wasn’t the talking that gave him ideas, Isabella told herself. It was the kissing him as if there would be no tomorrow. She’d let him touch her intimately! Even now she could still feel his mouth upon her breast.

  “Ross?”

  “Yes?”

  “I hope you’re not angry with me.”

  Ross silently groaned. He wanted to be angry. She’d stirred him into a hot frenzy. His body was hard and aching for her, even though he knew there was no chance in hell of having her. Yet he couldn’t be angry with her, when just the sound of her voice filled him with pleasure. When just the thought of her giving lips touched a spot deep within
him.

  “No. I’m not angry.”

  Her eyes focused on his back and the faint movement of his broad shoulders. “I want us to be friends. Are we?”

  “As far as I’m concerned we are.” Friends and more. But just how much more was the question, Ross thought. She wanted things he would never give her or any woman. And he wanted from her what she would never give to just any man. The two of them were an unlikely pairing and he realized he should forget about any romantic notions he had toward her. But he couldn’t. It was just that simple.

  “Maybe I should…drive on up to Dulce and get settled in my own house. From what I can gather so far, I don’t believe the D.A. is going to file charges against you.”

  He pulled up his horse and twisted his head around toward her. She stopped Trixie beside him and looked at him questioningly.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, then immediately felt her heart turn over as he reached for her hand and brought the back of it to his lips.

  “I don’t want you to be angry at me, either,” he said softly.

  Isabella had never had a problem with vices. She’d always believed her willpower was strong enough to resist anything that might be harmful to her. But Ross was sorely testing it. Every nerve, every particle of her being, wanted to throw her arms around him and beg him to make love to her right here in the quiet shadows of the forest.

  The wanton thought caused her voice to tremble. “I’m…not angry. I just think it might be better if I wasn’t here on the ranch.”

  His thumb gently rubbed the back of her hand as his eyes probed hers. “There wouldn’t be anything better about it. Even if you say I’m not in danger of being arrested, I still need you to find out who tried to kill Jess.”

  He needed her. It was ridiculous how much Isabella let that one little word sway her thinking. She didn’t know why she was even letting herself believe it. Ross was a man who had most everything and what he didn’t have, he could buy. If she wasn’t here, he could easily hire another attorney, probably one more adept than her, from a big firm that had their own private investigators. She’d probably be doing him a favor if she did pack up and leave.