by Rita Herron
It seemed like hours but only seconds passed when another shot rang out, and Taylor cried out again, terrified Hayes had been hit.
Her chest ached from the pressure of holding her breath, then he finally appeared, shoving her brother in front of him.
Taylor gasped. Miles was handcuffed and spitting out curse words. “Miles?”
“I’m sorry, Taylor,” Hayes said in a gruff voice. “But he was the shooter.”
“This is your fault, you bitch!” Miles lifted his hand, his shaggy brown hair falling over one eye.
“Why?” Taylor gasped. “Why would you try to kill me?”
He jerked his head around, gesturing at the room. “You spend all this money for a party and you won’t help me. It’s not fair.”
Taylor’s chest clenched, but anger assaulted her. “You had your own money, Miles, and you threw it away, wasted it on drugs and gambling when you could have done something with your life. Could have helped others.”
Margaret hurried to her side for support, and Hayes sent her a look of regret, but she didn’t blame him. Her own brother had tried to kill her, and he could have hurt others. She refused to allow Miles to make her feel guilty for his problems.
“Come on, Landis,” Hayes growled. “You have an appointment with a cell tonight.”
He shoved Miles through the crowd of guests who were finally settling down with hushed whispers after the chaos.
“Taylor, maybe everyone should leave,” Margaret said.
Taylor shook her head. “I don’t want this to spoil your night.”
Margaret gripped her hands. “Honey, you are so much more important than a party. And I know you’re upset about Miles.”
Taylor glanced around, saw that the guests were uncomfortable. Plus the room was a mess—broken glass splattered on the floor, flutes overturned and food trays wrecked.
Tears stung her eyes and embarrassment flooded her cheeks, but she blinked back the tears, held her head up high and walked back to the microphone. “Please forgive me for what just happened,” she said, her voice steadier than her legs. “I apologize for my brother’s actions and sincerely hope that everyone is all right. Under the circumstances, though, I suggest we call it a night.”
Hayes pushed Miles from the room, and locked gazes with Taylor.
Once he took Miles into custody, he could close the investigation and life could return to normal.
Relief tickled her, yet a deep ache throbbed in her chest. Then Hayes would leave Cantara Hills and she would never see him again.
HAYES HATED THE PAIN in Taylor’s eyes and wanted to throttle her brother for hurting her. The stupid arrogant little twit. He had money and family and he’d screwed all of it.
Brody and Egan hurried to calm the guests and make sure they departed safely.
“Stop shoving me,” Miles growled.
“You should be grateful I didn’t blow your damn head off, you idiot.”
Miles glared at him with hate-filled eyes, and Hayes tightened his grip on the man’s hands.
Voices echoed from the foyer, guests leaving, Taylor saying goodbye and thanking people for attending, car engines revving up and rolling away.
Brody met him at the exit. Hayes opened the side door and led Miles toward him. Miles actually jerked his arm, seeming to have the stupid idea that he might run.
Hayes dug his fingers deeper into the guy’s arm. “I’ll take him in,” Brody said. “You should stay.”
Hayes removed Miles’s gun from where he’d tucked it in the waistband of his jeans. “I’m sure you’ll find GSR on his hands, too.”
“It’s a .38,” Brody said. “I’ll see if it matches the other bullet casings we found.”
“I’ll go search for the bullet casings and send them over.”
Brody nodded, then took custody of Miles, who gave Hayes another bitter look before Brody shut the car door.
“I’ll keep you posted,” Brody said.
Hayes nodded. He wanted to question the jerk himself, but Taylor was upset, and his gut warned him that she didn’t need to be left alone. Not tonight.
Besides, what if Miles had only reacted this evening, and wasn’t the man they were looking for? They had to tie up loose ends and make certain the threat to Taylor was over.
Then he could leave.
He strode back to the ballroom and spent the next half hour searching for the bullet casings. He dug one out of the stage floor, another from the wall only inches from where Taylor had stood, then another from behind the staging area. If Miles had hit her, Taylor might be dead.
A frisson of fear ripped through him and sweat beaded on his forehead. He didn’t want to see her hurt. Not physically, by a bullet.
And not by her brother because families should stick together.
Not that he knew anything about families….
The waitstaff for the party had begun cleaning up and taking down the bar. He bagged the bullets to send to forensics, then headed back toward the entrance when Margaret appeared.
“Hayes?”
He froze, heart pounding. “Yes?”
“Thank you for saving Taylor tonight.” Emotions glittered in her eyes. “I was terrified for her.”
He gave a clipped nod. “I’m glad she’s all right, ma’am.”
Ma’am? This was his mother. Yet he barely knew her. Would never be able to call her that.
“I’m not sure she is,” Margaret said gently. “Taylor appears tough and strong, but having her own brother shoot at her…that cut deep.”
He supposed it would. “He’s in custody now. He can’t hurt her again.”
“Well…” She hesitated as if she wanted to say more, then Goldenrod appeared behind her, and placed a protective hand at her waist.
Hayes gritted his teeth. Goldenrod had made it clear he didn’t want Hayes near Margaret.
“Please take care of her tonight,” Margaret said. “She seems all right now but it’ll hit her later.”
“Don’t worry,” Hayes said. “I’ll stay with her.”
Margaret’s eyes softened with relief, and she turned to leave with Goldenrod. He watched her go, feeling an odd sensation in his chest.
And that strange sense of panic that maybe Taylor was still in danger.
TAYLOR HUGGED MARGARET good-night, then forced herself to face the staff she’d hired for the party and oversee the cleanup. Emotions ping-ponged inside her as she remembered the frenetic scene that had erupted when that shot had rung out.
She still couldn’t believe that Miles had tried to shoot her. He would face charges now, perhaps spend time in jail….
Her father would be crushed. Angry. And even more remote than he had been the past few years.
She only hoped that he would make sure Miles received the therapy he needed to get his act together.
And poor Margaret…she already felt the strain of finding out that Hayes was her son, and Taylor had sensed tension between her and Devon and Hayes all evening.
Tonight’s episode certainly hadn’t helped.
“I think we have things covered,” the caterer said. “We’ll bill you as usual.”
Taylor thanked the woman, then sighed and left the ballroom. Hayes was talking to Ranger Caldwell, and handed him the bullet casings to take to the lab.
“I’ll check in with you tomorrow,” Hayes said.
Ranger Caldwell nodded and left, and Taylor bypassed him and headed up the staircase. She wanted a shower, to wash the scent of fear off her body, to warm herself so she could finally stop trembling.
She ripped the hairpins from the bun at the base of her neck, tossed them on her dresser, then removed her diamonds and placed them in her jewelry box.
Then she stripped her gown and walked into the bathroom, flipped on the shower and climbed inside. The tears fell as she drowned herself in the warm spray, her body shaking from the aftermath of the night.
She allowed herself to spend her emotions and scrubbed with her favorite bodywash, will
ing away the image of her brother in handcuffs, but memories of the night she’d almost been strangled haunted her. Had Miles done that, too?
She donned a robe and walked into her bedroom, wondering how she would sleep in her house tonight.
When she entered the bedroom, Hayes was standing by her bed, looking concerned. “I knocked, but you didn’t answer so I got worried.” His voice was low, husky. “Are you all right, Taylor?”
She clutched the thin robe to her, her body tingling as his gaze raked over her. She was still cold, still trembling, still felt so damn vulnerable. “Yes.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’re lying.”
“I will be fine,” she whispered. “I just need some time.”
Hayes lifted his hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The movement was so gentle that she shivered, but not from being cold, from arousal.
“I understand that Miles is family.” He rubbed his thumb down her cheek. “I’m sorry I had to arrest him.”
“It’s not your fault,” Taylor said. “He was out of control. He could have hurt someone…me, Margaret…you…”
“Shh, he didn’t, though,” Hayes said. “Margaret is safe and so are you.”
They stared at one another, emotions pummeling her as she felt his arms encircle her.
She slid her arms beneath his, clutched his back and breathed in his scent. He smelled like a man, masculine, rugged, strong. And he held her with such tenderness that her heart swelled. Beneath that tough facade and badge, his heart beat strong and solid. He was a good man. The kind heroes were made of.
Heaven help her, she was falling in love with this cowboy.
But he would leave soon. Ride out of town and never come back. She couldn’t let him go without tasting him again. Without a night in his arms where she could show him that they could fit together.
She licked her lips, cradled his face between her hands and dragged his head toward her. He stiffened, but she fused her mouth with his and traced her tongue over his lips. He moaned deep in his throat, then his hands slid lower to yank her against him. She felt his hard length press into her, and knew he wanted her.
ADRENALINE WAS STILL CHURNING through Hayes, that and the fear that had robbed his breath when the shot had broken out. He hadn’t been able to reach Taylor fast enough.
And now…now all he’d meant to do was comfort her. But those damn lips teased him, and so had the sight of her in that skimpy robe. Her nipples were tight, turgid peaks, the sheer fabric giving him a glimpse of her pale-pink areolas beneath. He wanted his mouth on them.
And his hands on the rest of her naked flesh.
She licked at his jaw and rubbed her foot up his calf, and his arousal stabbed the fly of his damn suit pants.
He had to stop this insanity.
He forced himself to pull away but she gripped his arms and kept him from leaving.
Still, his chest was pounding. “Taylor, you’re scared. Tonight was traumatic.” His voice cracked. He was a ranger first, had to take charge, stay in control. “I can’t take advantage of you.”
“You’re not,” she murmured raggedly. “I want you, Hayes. Please make love to me.”
“Taylor…”
Her breath brushed his cheek as she kissed him again, robbing him of words, of anything but the raw primal lust burning inside him.
Then she teased his lips with her tongue again. He opened, so starved for her that he murmured her name and trailed his hands over her breasts, deepening the kiss as he stroked her nipples through the satiny robe. The buds hardened to peaks, her chest rising and falling erratically, arousing sensations that rippled through every muscle in his body.
“I want your hands and mouth on me,” she said into his throat. “And you inside me.”
No woman had ever talked to him like that. Had ever sounded so starved for him. So passionate….
He parted the fabric, rubbed his thumbs over the turgid peaks, then lowered his head and licked the tip. She gasped and thrust herself at him, clinging to him as if she’d fall apart if he released her.
He sucked one nipple into his mouth, stroked his hand over her hips, then to her inner thigh where he feathered his fingers along the delicate skin of her legs, parting them slightly to allow him better access to her precious secrets. Heat shot through him, firing his sex to a raging need that destroyed any common sense.
“Yes,” she rasped. “Take me, Hayes. I need you.”
His breath caught and he dragged his mouth from her breast to watch as she dropped the flimsy robe to the floor and stood beautifully naked before him.
Chapter Eighteen
Hayes paused to drink in Taylor’s beauty, his chest heaving with the need to make love to her. She reached for his tie and yanked it off, then tossed it to the floor. Her hands tore at his dress shirt, buttons flying as she hastily pushed it off his shoulders and slung it behind her. As soon as her fingers began to fumble with his belt and zipper, he thought he would explode.
But he reined in the need raging through him, kicked off his shoes, then shoved off his pants and socks.
“Hayes…”
Taylor’s whispered sigh spiked his hunger, and when she kissed him again, he backed her against the wall, taking all that she offered as her tongue danced with his.
She tasted so delicious that he groaned, and raked his hands over her shoulders, her back, her breasts again, his sex throbbing with the need to stroke her, to fill her, to make her his.
He tore his mouth away, and her breath bathed his neck as he lowered his head and teased her nipples again with his tongue, sipping greedily as her hair brushed his neck. Her scent made his heart race, and he trailed kisses down her abdomen to her thighs and teased the sensitive skin guarding her secrets.
She moaned and clawed her hands through his hair, and he used his tongue as he would his length to slide between her legs and tease her until she parted her legs. Then he plunged his tongue inside her to taste her sweet essence.
“Hayes…”
He held her still, his movements bolder, his own excitement growing hotter as she whispered her pleasure and offered herself to him. Seconds later, her body quivered beneath his onslaught, and her wet juices filled his mouth, a taste so erotic he would never forget the headiness.
Or how much he wanted her.
DIZZY WITH THE BLINDING sensations spiraling through her, Taylor closed her eyes and relented to the intense climax riding through her, a climax made more satisfying and erotic by her growing feelings for Hayes.
Tears threatened, but she blinked them away, quivering as Hayes’s mouth played havoc with her senses. He held her, loved her, pleasured her as if she was a fine treasure he’d found, one that was meant to be treated with loving care. A fire erupted deep inside her belly, flaming hotter with each sensation exploding through her and burning out of control.
She clawed at his arms, dragged him back up to stand, then lowered her hand and stroked his hard length. He was huge, bulging beneath the boxers, and she was frantic to feel his naked flesh inside her, frantic to pleasure him as he had her.
She breathed, her passion spiraling out of control, and pulled at the boxers, freeing him so she felt the damp fullness of his erection pulsing with need. She moved to go down on him, but he caught her arms, kicked off his boxers and lifted her. She looped her arms around him and rubbed her wet, aching heat against his hard length, begging him to take her.
“Taylor…I want you now.”
“Yes,” she pleaded. “I need you, Hayes.”
He moaned, deep and throaty, hunger lacing the sound, then tore away from her.
“Can’t,” he muttered gruffly. “No condom.”
“The nightstand,” she whispered, and he grinned and reached inside the drawer and ripped one out, her legs still wrapped around him.
They laughed together as she tried to help him roll it on, his huge size making it difficult. The flare of raw passion in his eyes heated her skin and ignited her desires to a f
renzied fever.
She threw her head back in wild abandon, then tightened her legs around his waist, crying out his name as she impaled herself on him.
He growled, pushing deeper, gripping her legs as he thrust farther into her warm chamber. She lifted her hips, angling herself to feel him pulse against her sensitive nub, her breath erratic as he pulled himself out, then thrust again, more forcefully this time, delving deeper into her body until she panted his name again. Perspiration dotted her skin as she rode him up and down.
Any semblance of control evaporated like rain on hot pavement. The sounds of their bodies slapping together, their husky whispers and choppy breathing filled the room. Raw, primal, sensual noises that intensified the trembling in her body and sent another mind-shattering climax to overtake her.
Her insides clenched, and he thrust into her again, their bodies climbing to the heavens together as his own orgasm ripped through him.
The erotic outpouring rippled in wave after wave of mind-numbing pleasure until Taylor dropped her head forward against his neck, heaving for a breath. He leaned into her, his face buried between her breasts, as his body shook from the pleasure.
They stood like that for what seemed like hours, each drawing in breaths, holding each other, their bodies entwined, her heart soaring with love. Finally he carried her to bed and they fell onto it, exhausted. But she curled into his arms and he wrapped them around her and held her.
Emotions overwhelmed her, feelings that ripped away the fear she’d had earlier, yet another fear fought its way through the clouded recesses of her pleasure.
Hayes would leave soon, and she couldn’t stand to lose him.
No man had ever made her feel this heartfelt knot of love and happiness bursting inside her.
She had to find a way to convince him that they belonged together.
SUNLIGHT STREAKED THE SKY as Hayes stirred from a deep sleep. He smiled, sensations rocketing through him. He was dreaming. Dreaming of having sex with Taylor. Featherlight strokes massaged his hard length, a damp tongue laving him. He opened his eyes and groaned as erotic tension pummeled him. He wasn’t dreaming.
