The Marshalls Boxed Set (Texas Heroes: The Marshalls Books 1-3)

by Jean Brashear

  Sammie’s chin rose a notch in defiance.

  Dolly only grinned while addressing Case. “Well, sugar, I guess I’d better be getting back. Due back onstage pretty soon.” She grazed Case’s lips with one long red fingernail. “It’s been too long, lover. Don’t be a stranger.” With that, she turned and strolled away, the cool curves of her almost bare back amplifying the effect of swaying hips that drew the eyes of every man in the room.

  Every man except one. Case had the good graces to look embarrassed, but it was better that she’d been reminded of the power he exerted over women, all too evident in the admiring glances he drew everywhere they went.

  “Sammie…”

  She needed air. Had to clear her head. Turning on her heel, she sought the door outside. Had to get away from all the confusion, the emotions roiling through her.

  As she pushed through the crowd, an arm reached out to stop her. She shrugged it off, still intent upon the door.

  The man spoke to her, but all Sammie wanted was to escape from the hot, noisy press of bodies. As she emerged into the night, blindly headed into the parking lot, the incident with Dolly brought home forcefully how little she really knew about Case. She had been so afraid of Gascoigne and what he would do that the comfort the ranch and its inhabitants provided had lulled her into complacency.

  Complacency spelled danger.

  A hand on her arm whipped her around.

  There stood a stocky brute much like the man who’d shoved her into his car at the truck stop.

  A scream bubbled up in her throat.

  His voice slurred, “Hey, pretty girl, come on back inside with me. It’s been a long time since I held a woman like you.” He dragged her toward the door.

  “No!” She smacked at him, struggled to get free, panicked by her memories. Frenchy’s fist…his brutal hands all over her…

  “Hey, now—none of that, babe.” He clamped her more tightly, a strong beery aroma wafting over her.

  Had they found her? She tumbled back into the terror, fighting to breathe, suffocating under the weight of her fear.

  “What the hell—?”

  “Let her go.”

  The arms dropped away.

  Panicked, she whirled and ran, the shouts behind her barely registering.

  Strong arms seized her, pulled her close.

  She screamed.

  “Sammie, hey, now. Sammie, stop. It’s me, it’s Case.”

  His voice finally penetrated her panic. “Case?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. Are you all right? Did that drunken idiot hurt you?”

  Every word brought her one step closer to sanity. “A…drunk? Not—”

  Case cursed. “You thought it was those men.”

  Shaken that she’d let her fear propel her into the wrong conclusion, she looked around. All she could see was a small crowd curiously observing her. One man stood in front, rubbing his jaw and shaking his head. She thought she heard the words damn crazy woman before he wheeled and headed inside.

  Sammie turned away from Case, embarrassed but still trembling from the forceful reminder of her precarious situation. This incident might have been a false alarm, but it served as a vivid inducement to recall Gascoigne’s warnings. Case would despise her anyway, as soon as he knew her connection to Uncle Roland. Just one more reason to remember that her sense of the ranch as a haven was a fantasy, nothing more.

  As Case approached her again, she was already composing her necessary lies.

  He spun her around to face him, eyes glittering. “Tell me,” he growled. “No more delays, Sammie. I want to know about this man you’re running from.”

  She closed her eyes to blot out the sight of his face, but the memories she held couldn’t be erased so easily. Only knowing that she had to protect him from more suffering gave her the strength to be convincing.

  “I’ve been involved with a man who is very possessive of me.” She drew in a shuddering breath as she spoke. “He is obsessive about it and had me followed everywhere.”

  Her voice gained strength as she caught up the threads of her tale. As long as she didn’t look at Case, she thought she could pull this off. “He’s a powerful man, and a very determined one. He had me completely isolated. The only time I wasn’t followed was when he was with me.”

  She blessed her voracious habit of reading suspense novels. She was borrowing heavily from plots she’d read. She only had to convince him until she could get away—which would be very soon.

  “One night I managed to slip a sleeping pill into his drink, and he slept more soundly than usual. I made it out of his house and left New Orleans heading west, until my car broke down. You know the rest.”

  He watched her closely, searching her gaze. “And those goons who tried to take you were his.”

  She nodded, unwilling to speak.

  “Why wouldn’t you tell me this before?”

  “It’s not your problem, it’s mine. I’m sorry I held back—I was afraid. I didn’t have anyone to turn to who could help.”

  “Couldn’t someone have helped you? Family? Friends?”

  She mentally crossed her fingers, praying he’d believe her. “I don’t have any family but my sisters, Case, and they—that is, we don’t—” Tears flooded her eyes. For all intents, that much was true. She might as well not have any family, since she didn’t dare contact them.

  Case was silent for a long moment. She tilted her head up to see sympathy in his gaze. Feeling worse than ever about deceiving him, she looked at the ground. Wrapped her arms around her waist to hold herself together.

  He drew her to his chest and laid his cheek against her hair, exhaling a long breath. “We’ll figure something out. Come on, Sammie. It’s been a long day. We can think about this tomorrow when we’re rested. Let’s go home.”

  Home. She had no home. She would have none until this was over.

  But gratefully she accepted the reprieve.

  Chapter Ten

  Case awoke with a start. Rolled over, wondering what noise had speared through his exhaustion to wake him.

  After the long emotion-filled day and the night of dancing, he’d fallen into a deep sleep, trying to forget Sammie’s haunted face, trying to figure out the next step. He squinted at the clock. Just after two. He fell back onto the mattress, closing his eyes.

  He heard it again. A whimper?

  Sammie.

  He sat up just as the whimper turned into a scream of pure terror. He bounded out of bed in a flash, not caring that he was stark naked. He raced across the hall to her room, cursing that he had no weapons at hand.

  He charged through her door, half-expecting to see the thugs holding her hostage.

  She was alone. Caught in another nightmare. Thrashing from side to side, kicking out and whimpering for help.

  He sat and gathered her into his arms, using both his voice and his hands to calm her. “Sammie…Sammie…it’s me, Case…you’re okay. You’re safe…wake up, honey.” Slowly he stroked her back with his hands.

  At last her breathing began to slow. Her eyes opened. “Case?” She lifted her hand to his cheek.

  Her skin was warm silk. “Yeah, it’s me. You’re okay now. It was only a bad dream.” A sliver of moonlight slanted in where the shades had been left partly drawn to catch the breeze. In the dim light, he couldn’t make out the color of those eyes he knew were blue, but their call was powerful.

  For a long, hushed moment, the two of them stilled, eyes locked in taut, breathless wonder. Suspended between what was wise…and what was inevitable, longing demanding to be denied no more. With a sense of relief, of bowing to the inescapable, Case yielded to the temptation that had gnawed at him every minute since he’d last kissed her. Reverently he bent to her full, soft mouth.

  Sammie’s lips parted without hesitation, her tongue swirling smoothly along his. At once he deepened the kiss and brought her closer, draping her body across his lap, the cotton shift riding up and baring her sweet rounded bottom to his touch
. His body stirred beneath her smooth flesh. She squirmed as though craving more contact.

  Case was all too aware that he was naked.

  And that she was not nearly naked enough. The thin cotton frustrated him, and only a hair-thin veneer of control prevented him from ripping it away. With her every wiggle, his desire for her surged. He might not need the complications she presented, but the time for waiting was past. He wanted her. He’d lose his mind if he couldn’t have her right now, this instant.

  He cast away his doubts as he surrendered his will, falling back on the bed, bringing her down with him. Writhing together in a torturous dance as old as time, her body skimmed over his, their legs entwined.

  Sammie rose above him, splendid and sleek. Gliding up his body, she straddled his hips, her breasts full and tempting, just beyond the reach of his mouth. His tongue traced a line along the tender inside of her elbow, lapping up precious tastes of her skin. She gasped, and he smiled. His hands smoothed over her back, drawing her forward and caressing the firm globes of that sassy behind he so admired.

  “Sammie…” he groaned. He squeezed the sweet flesh and she squirmed again. Her legs parted still more, bringing the small patch of red silk between her thighs into intimate contact with his length.

  Case thought he might die. He wasn’t sure he’d mind.

  It would surely be the sweetest death imaginable.

  Crazed for her now, he took one thinly-veiled nipple in his mouth while he sought entrance to the heaven she promised. She moaned and rocked her pelvis, torturing him with the feel of wet, heated silk. His teeth plucked at the thin shift, then his hands stripped it from her. He licked a scorching spiral around the sensitive aureole of one full, creamy breast. Hot, edgy need ground at him, and he grazed the erect nipple with his teeth, then slid into suckling her, drawing deep on the endless pool of sensuality shimmering beneath her surface.

  Sammie trembled at the desperate wanting Case aroused. It wasn’t just his killer good looks—he was so much more. She hadn’t figured him out by a long shot, but she’d never met a more intriguing man in her life. For this one night, she would not think about how impossible it all was. She needed this closeness; she craved his magic.

  So she yielded to him, to the driving, endless yearning. He called forth a wildness she’d never known was inside her, his every caress so deeply erotic, so intensely seductive.

  Powerful magic he wielded, drenching her every cell, suffusing her every thought. She wanted only to feel, to burn…to surrender.

  Case’s impatient flesh prodded at her slick warmth, eager to slip into the paradise he knew he’d find. His fingers itched to rip the offending panties away, to plunge into her with no delay—but ruthlessly he battled back the primal, razor-sharp need.

  And realized he had no protection with him.

  He fell back with a groan.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered, tensing. “Don’t you want—?”

  He met her eyes. “Babe, I want you so badly I hurt, I just—I’ll be right back. I don’t have anything with me.” He let how he burned for her show. “Don’t move one inch.”

  Her face relaxed into a dangerous smile. “I’m going nowhere, cowboy.”

  “I don’t know. You have a habit of disappearing on me.” He scooped her up and strode to his room. “I’m taking no chances.” And the last place he wanted to be making love was in that room he still thought of as his father’s.

  He laid her on his mattress as if she were delicate crystal. He rummaged in his chest of drawers and came up with a string of packets. Opened one and tossed the others on the nightstand.

  Sammie’s laugh was low and throaty. “I like your ambition.”

  He grinned and joined her, ranging over her to explore more of her succulent, glistening skin, every second with her drawing him deeper under her spell. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?” he muttered, barely coherent, riding the rim of madness. He buried his fingers in the tangle of whiskey curls, scraping his teeth along the column of her neck. “I tried to stay away…tried, damn it.” His patience strained to the snapping point, he lapped his tongue over her skin, nipped and teased her with his teeth, his lips, his hands, loving how she writhed beneath his touch. How she keened for release.

  He paused to let his gaze scorch a trail over the beautiful contours of the woman who embodied every dream he’d ever had.

  Lying across the bed, dark curls a rippling wave across the sheets, a sheen of sweat glimmering on her skin, she tore at every last shred of control he possessed. She was every bit the wet dream he’d imagined when he’d watched her tantalize him with a bite of coconut cream pie.

  She dazzled him. His hands and his mouth roved restlessly over her body, teasing her sensitive skin and drawing her ever higher as he made his way to take the taste he’d promised himself when he’d watched her eat that piece of pie. He slid the silken panties slowly down her long, gorgeous legs and parted her dark curls with a slow, soft, whispering hot breath at their crown.

  When he put his mouth to her, she moaned aloud.

  Case redoubled his sensuous torture, not escaping the delicious, needle-sharp pain himself. Letting his fingers glide over her skin as his tongue licked and delved, he wondered who would beg first. When she rocked toward him, thighs trembling, silently begging for release, he took mercy upon them both and sent her on a scorching journey along the stairway to paradise.

  Surely she had died. Was it possible to experience such rapture and live? she wondered. The pieces of her had tumbled onto a whisper-soft cloud and she no longer cared whether she was alive. If there was anything left of her mind.

  But Case wasn’t done yet. Once more he drew her up into a craving so sharp that she cried out. Opening her eyes, she saw him, her dark angel, hovering over her, his every line taut with blatant hunger. Talons of greed clawed into nerves raw with need. She dug her nails into his back and arched her body into his, ready for the climb.

  Case saw her eyes blaze, the hunger in them naked and voracious. She wrapped her legs around him, urging him near. A fine madness sang in his heated blood.

  No more waiting. Even if he could, he was through trying. After a journey that seemed years long since he’d first laid eyes on this magnificent woman, Case entered heaven in a single thrust.

  What he felt at that moment needed better words than he possessed. Bliss—yes. Rapture—of course. Exquisite torture.

  But there was more, a feeling that for the first time in his life, Case Marshall had come home. After years of wandering, of desperate searching, years of lonely, angry longing, he had arrived at this unexpected place of belonging.

  Shaken to his core, Case blessed the fire that quickly burned away any ability to think.

  He clasped her hands in his, fingers interlaced. “Look at me,” he commanded.

  She was helpless to defy him, even if she’d wanted to—but she didn’t. She wanted to drown in this dark desire, this firestorm of burning, raging need. They began to move as one, and Sammie experienced explosive passion for the first time in her life.

  She finally understood why people were willing to die for love, what the poets meant when they spoke of a grand passion. This was surely the most powerful moment of her life.

  Then she thought no more. Case demanded her total involvement, his potent pull undeniable. Hot, clawing need…sheer, crystalline glory…she was one with him, helpless to evade his magnetism. As he towered above her, calling her to himself like a sorcerer, she thought how pale and insipid were the men she’d known before. He could be the devil himself, and she would enter hell willingly and eagerly by his side. She abandoned herself to follow him wherever he wanted to go, knowing already that she could—and did—trust him with her life.

  “Come now, Sammie,” his rough velvet voice urged. “Let go. Fly with me.” Releasing her fingers, he clasped her head in his hands, mesmerizing her. He stroked deeper and harder as she opened herself to him, willing her with a look to take it all. />
  The summit, when they reached it, was a place neither had known before. Blinded by starbursts…shaking with pleasure…drifting in silent wonder, they slowly spiraled down together, knowing they had truly touched the pinnacle of bliss.

  Then, in a delicious, sweet languor, they held one another close, against the dawn to come.

  “Case?” Sammie spoke into the side of Case’s chest, curled up against him.

  “Hmmm?” He drifted, at peace in a way he hadn’t been in longer than he could remember.

  “I’m hungry.”

  A laugh burst from him. He lifted his head and peer at her. “Again?”

  She punched him lightly in the side. “Not for that, silly.” She paused. “Though there are all those packets…”

  Case groaned and fell back on the pillow. “You’re going to kill me, woman.”

  “I don’t think so. You look too strong. Me, now, that’s a different story. I may faint from hunger if I don’t get some food soon.”

  “Can’t have that. Come on, you lightweight. Let’s go rustle up some grub.” Case sat up.

  She grabbed him around the waist from behind, pressing a loud kiss to his backside. Arms tight around his belly, she spoke, “Case?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’ve never…it’s never been like that for me before.”

  He twisted around and leaned on his elbow. Studied her.

  “Me either, sweetheart.” He brushed his thumb across her lips. “Me either.” He had no idea what to do about this unexpected gift. Or its complications.

  But he wasn’t one to dwell. He shook his head and smacked her bottom lightly, then rose. “Out of the bed, lazybones. The food’s not going to march up the stairs, you know.” When she made no move to follow, he turned.

  She looked sad and lost. He returned to her and enfolded her in his arms, rocking her from side to side, his cheek resting on her hair.

  She relaxed against him, and it felt so damn good. He wanted to fall right back into bed and tell the world to go hang.

  But she was hungry, so after a quick hug, he turned her around and marched her into the hall.