by Ann Major
More than anything else now, Megan wanted love. It seemed that her whole life she had thirsted for it while denying her need. She had lost her mother, her father and Kirk, in a way, to his stoic, macho silence. There hadn’t been anyone for her to turn to, not for years.
Until last night.
In Jeb’s arms.
The realization tore her into a million tiny pieces.
Only a foolish woman would think that sex would bind a man like Jeb Jackson to her. He would enjoy himself until he tired of the sport. Then he would marry another woman, one who could hold her own at elegant parties and who had the money he needed.
Megan lay stiffly on the bed, feeling too terribly insecure to surrender to her need for Jeb’s tenderness.
He stroked her tumbled hair soothingly, and she cringed beneath the gentle caress of his fingers. She felt warier of him than she’d ever felt before—even when she’d hated him. To fall in love with a man who could never love her back would be a soul-destroying hell. It would be worse even than her father’s leaving her. She mustn’t allow this crazy attraction to go any further.
Jeb couldn’t love her, and the crudest irony of all was that last night it had been her touch that had seduced him.
He was a man. Naturally he had welcomed her passion, but it would be ridiculous to expect him to care, ridiculous to trust in her own new and dangerous feelings or him.
He continued to hold her, saying nothing, his hands never ceasing their gentle caress. If only he were a different kind of man and she could believe in his tenderness. If only she could bury her face in the hollow of his neck and cling to him endlessly.
With a sob she twisted away from him, wrapped herself in the sheet and ran into the bathroom.
*
Megan sat huddled in a chair near the window of Kirk’s hospital room, her bright head drooping as she listened to the whisper of the soft soles of the nurse’s shoes on the tile floor. The private-duty nurse bustled about doing everything Megan should have been doing—plumping Kirk’s pillows, removing his breakfast tray, setting out his comb and other toilet articles.
Megan felt useless as she cast a quick, sidelong glance at her grim-faced brother. Turning back, she stared out the window into the white glare. Kirk was sulking and wouldn’t even look at her.
Outside, brilliant south Texas sunshine streamed through palm fronds and lit the lush semitropical vegetation around the hospital. Pretending an interest she didn’t feel, Megan studied the scarlet bottlebrush and lemon yellow hibiscus blossoms stirring in the faint breeze.
Seven days she had spent in this hospital. It felt like seven years.
Her manicured nail ticked against the windowsill.
Seven days of being ordered about by Jeb. Seven days of having to behave courteously to him as he popped in and out of Kirk’s room whenever he pleased.
It was all Jeb’s fault that she felt bored and useless. It was his fault, too, that Kirk was annoyed with her.
Claiming that he didn’t want her exhausting herself, Jeb had gone against Megan’s wishes and hired nurses to sit with Kirk round-the-clock when he had been moved out of intensive care yesterday. Kirk had been furious that Megan hadn’t been more grateful to Jeb. And Megan had been equally furious—at Jeb.
Why couldn’t Kirk see that it had been her idea to fly down to Mexico? Why couldn’t he see that her pride forbade her from accepting Jeb’s generosity?
If only she hadn’t slept with Jeb, maybe she wouldn’t feel so miserable now. He seemed to delight in seizing every opportunity to remind her of their night together.
His eyes were hot and quick to seek her out whenever he was there. Every time he came into the room, his clean, male scent alone brought her back to the night he’d taken her in that pitch-black, icy motel room. Every time she caught even a glimpse of his broad shoulders and huge, muscled body she remembered how it had felt to be held against his warm, hair-roughened chest, her stomach pressed into his flat, hard abs as he thrust deep inside her.
Wanting him and not wanting to was agony. The tension was back in Megan’s relationship with Jeb, only it was worse than ever before, worse even than when she’d had a high-school crush on him.
Why couldn’t she simply erase him from her mind—and her heart and soul?
Just remembering that night was enough to make her mouth go dry with desire. She wanted him out of her life. Why didn’t he go back to the ranch and do whatever he normally did to keep himself busy? Even his thoughtful treatment toward both Kirk and herself seemed part of his new threatening proprietary interest in her.
Since Kirk worked for the Jackson Ranch, the ranch’s medical insurance policy was picking up Kirk’s hospital bills. Jeb had flown in a special team of doctors from Houston to evaluate Kirk’s case. In addition, there were the private-duty nurses.
Kirk was grateful to Jeb and upset with his sister because she wasn’t. Only yesterday Kirk had quarreled with her over Jeb, and now Kirk had retreated inside his usual, non-communicative, grim shell.
Her brother had nearly died. She’d risked her life to save him, and he had the gall to cozy up to Jeb instead of her! Megan no longer knew which man made her angrier—her brother or Jeb.
The hospital door banged open, and Jeb charged into the room.
Megan frowned, trying to block out the heady male vision of ink-dark hair, bronzed muscle, and his easy, white smile that flagrantly challenged her right to deny his new importance in her life.
“Morning,” Jeb boomed to both of them in a voice too loud to be politely ignored.
Megan turned her head away from him.
“Hi,” Kirk murmured warmly.
There was a pregnant pause as both men waited for some sound from Megan.
She pressed her lips tightly together, and the tension mounted.
Kirk directed a dark scowl toward his stubborn, red-haired sister, but Megan wouldn’t look at either of them. Instead she concentrated on a pool of sunlight trapped in the green pleats of a palm frond. She caught a choked breath when her brother’s cheerful, deep voice broke the awkward silence.
“When are you going to pull some strings and get me out of here, Jeb?”
Megan’s head whipped around. “Jeb’s not your doctor.”
“No, but he damn sure is the boss,” Kirk replied.
Megan lunged out of her chair. She felt Jeb’s black eyes raking her again with devastating thoroughness. Heat crept into her cheeks. “If Jeb pulls any strings, he’ll have to fight me every step of the way.”
“Don’t tempt me.” Jeb’s voice cracked like a bullwhip. “Fighting you has always been one of my favorite sports.” His mouth curved insolently. His eyes lingered on her breasts. “Among others.”
Her body burned from head to toe. She couldn’t stay here and endure his presence! Then she became aware of Kirk watching her, his tanned face tightly strained.
“I think I’ll go to the coffee shop,” she rasped, struggling for control.
“I’d rather you stayed,” Jeb said quietly.
“I’d rather go, but I guess my feelings about things don’t matter much.”
“Stay, Megan,” Kirk ordered, “and stop picking on Jeb.”
“Me?” She expelled a stifled gasp. “Picking on him?” Outraged as she stared at her brother, she fought the impulse to defend herself. Kirk looked too tired to put up with more conflict.
“Jeb,” Kirk apologized, “I don’t know what’s gotten into her. I would have thought she’d show you a little gratitude—since you saved my life.”
“K-Kirk!” Again Megan bit back the hot, angry words that sprang to her lips.
“Don’t worry, she has been grateful—in her own way,” Jeb said, a wealth of meaning in his silken voice.
Megan’s eyes flew to Jeb’s face. He had turned in her direction so that only she could catch his knowing smile.
Megan swallowed and took an instinctive step backward.
“I’d still be down in that hellhole if you
hadn’t come after me,” Kirk said. “I owe you one, Jeb, and I won’t forget it.”
“It wasn’t his idea to come after you,” Megan snapped. “You’d still be down there if I—”
“Jeb carried me out of that hut.” Kirk’s voice was edged with steel. “Jeb got shot and got his Mooney shot up, too.”
“And I did nothing?”
“I didn’t say that,” Kirk replied more gently.
Megan remembered that wild, dark night, the flickering flares, the desolate whir of the Mooney’s prop when she’d been left alone with the plane in the black jungle, the army that had shot at them. Mutely she shook her head, trying to erase the memories that brought back soul-gnawing fear. She went to her brother’s bed and took his hand in hers.
“Kirk, please, I don’t like remembering how close I came to losing you. Please, say you won’t ever do anything like that again, no matter how much money you’re offered.”
“It’s not just the money,” Kirk said grimly.
“I know.” Her fingers squeezed his. “But I can’t bear the thought of something like this happening to you again.”
Kirk’s lips tightened fractionally. “So you’re trying to catch me in a weak moment and extract a promise.” His words were quiet; his expression unreadable.
Megan swallowed and nodded guiltily.
“Well, you damn sure picked the right moment.” His knuckles slid against the inside of her palm. “I never look forward to going, but when someone’s in trouble, and I think I have the right skill set and can help...” Kirk’s stubbled jaw clenched. “Megan, don’t ask me to make a promise I can’t keep.” His brooding eyes met hers.
From behind them came Jeb’s silky-smooth voice. “Speaking of someone in trouble—Dwight Creighton is out in the hall waiting to thank you, Kirk. I think I’ll buy Megan a cup of coffee while the two of you visit.”
Mutely Megan shook her head. “I don’t want coffee.”
Jeb’s black eyes seemed to ice over. “I’m sure we can find some place that sells herbal tea or...”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Beneath his faintly mocking smile, Jeb’s mouth hardened.
“Megan,” Kirk asked gently in a tired voice, “please, for me, try to be nice to Jeb. Just this once.”
“You MacKays never learn. You’re always demanding the impossible of each other.” Jeb laughed. “Don’t worry, Kirk, I can handle Megan.” Jeb’s hot gaze fell on Megan’s slim figure.
Megan felt the bold sweep of his eyes. From across the room she glared back at him. She had taken more of his leers and innuendo than any woman could. Not even for Kirk would she endure more. She got up and strode swiftly toward the door.
Cowboy boots clamored behind her. With ruthless ease Jeb’s hands clamped around her shoulders and waist and yanked her against his body. “I’m glad you decided to accept my invitation,” Jeb murmured dryly, holding her tightly.
“I-I didn’t.”
Pain cut off all speech as hard fingers tightened against soft flesh. She winced as he lifted her on to her toes and ushered her down the hall.
In the deserted waiting room, Jeb exploded. “Why did you check out of the motel and move in with that college girlfriend of yours?”
Defiant green eyes met his. “You were trying to force something on me that I don’t want, Jeb.”
He drew a ragged breath. “Why do you have to be the most stubborn woman I’ve ever known?”
She started to move away, but he pushed her back against the wall, holding her fiercely.
“Someone might come, Jeb.”
“Do you think I give a damn?” he whispered. “You’re trying to push me away, trying to pretend that what happened between us never happened.”
“Because it was a mistake!”
“It happened!”
“Don’t! Please!”
“And you loved it.”
The awful, galling truth shamed her utterly.
His fingers ruffled through her hair. She could feel his breath, hot against her temple.
“I loved it too, Megan, and I can’t forget it. Every time I look at you I remember the taste of your mouth, the woman-scent of your body, the silken fire of your skin, and I want you all over again.”
“N-no. It was only sex. You don’t own me.”
“Damn!” He lifted a hand and trailed his fingertips down the side of her neck and watched her shiver. “Would it be so bad—belonging to me?” he said thickly. His hand slid lower, against her throat, to the swelling curve of her breast.
Her pulse was pounding like a drum. She felt hot and breathless… and horribly helpless. With an effort she jerked away from his touch.
“It would be a living hell,” she whispered.
He pulled her to him. “You’re driving me crazy. You know that, don’t you?”
The passion that shone in his eyes shook Megan to the core. She closed her eyes, attempting to shut him out, but she couldn’t block out the heat of him. She opened her eyes again, only to discover that he had come even nearer.
“You’re driving me crazy, too.”
“So why doesn’t one of us stop?” he demanded softly.
Jeb was so close. His clean scent enveloped her, and the memory of the night she had slept with him drove her wild. It would be all too easy to melt against him.
She tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go. “Look, I’m not going to become your latest ranch plaything, a toy you can toss aside when you’re no longer amused.”
The hard line of his mouth tightened. “You make me sound like a spoiled child.”
“In a way, you are. You’re used to pushing everyone around. You’ve pushed me around for years.”
“You needed more discipline than you ever got.”
“You grew up rich.”
“But not spoiled. Wayne Jackson never spoiled any living creature on Jackson Ranch. I worked damn hard. I still do.”
“You’ve had everything you ever wanted.”
His eyes fixed on her hungrily. His voice was a hoarse whisper. “Not everything.”
“I mean... till now.”
“Be fair, Megan. You know I’ve worked as hard as any vaquero.”
“But you’re the boss. Who has ever said no to you?”
“You did.”
“You always got your way in the end.”
“Because I was right and you were just plain stubborn.”
“That’s your opinion. The point is, now you’ve decided you want me. Well, I’ve wanted things, too. Only there were a lot of things I couldn’t have. Maybe you’ve finally hit on something you can’t have. A long time ago you won my ranch and me in a game of five-card stud. You took my ranch. The other night you finally took me.”
“Took you?” he growled, taking her hand and pulling her close, holding on to it fiercely when she fought to wrench it free. “I’m damned if I’ll take the blame for that. You seduced me.”
“It’s obvious you intend to hold that over my head forever. Maybe I was grateful that night because you saved Kirk,” she admitted stubbornly. “I don’t know. But now I don’t owe you anything. You’ll never take anything else from me again. All I ask is that you don’t brag to everybody on the ranch about how easy I was!’’
“Brag!” he snarled. “You little fool, I’ve given you more than I’ve ever taken.”
“You’re the fool, Jeb, to waste your time on me. You’re going to marry Janelle. She’s richer than I am, and she’ll fit in with all your classy friends. It’s no secret you need money to run the ranch. With her fortune at your disposal, you’ll solve all your cash flow problems. All I ever want to do for you is fly your airplanes.”
Against the extreme pallor of his face, his eyes were deep and dark and insolent. “Is that what you think of me—that I’d marry Janelle for money?”
“You’ll have the perfect, obedient wife, a transfusion of money for the ranch and an excellent pilot. Besides, Janelle wants you. I don’t.”
“No!” The memory of every word, every touch, every sighing moan haunted Megan.
“You were made for a man’s kisses, a man’s loving.”
“Not yours!” She broke away. “You had me once, but playtime’s over.”
“Playtime!” A muscle twitched furiously in Jeb’s cheek. “I risked my life for you, helped you get Kirk out of Mexico, got my new Mooney shot up and broke dozens of international laws. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“Yes. Thank you. I’m grateful for what you did, but I don’t want you. Maybe I had a crush on you when I was a kid, but I don’t anymore.”
A fierce, unnamable emotion was in her eyes and in her heart.
He studied her ashen face for a long, silent moment.
“All right. Have it your own way. You can fly my airplanes. That’s all I’ll ever ask of you.”
Megan glared back at him with a heady mixture of disbelief, triumph and regret. She’d never thought victory would come so easily.
As if he read her mind, the corners of his mouth quirked sardonically. “Maybe I’ll even take your advice and marry Janelle.”
His casual remark was like a knife thrust in the softest tissue of her heart.
“The sooner the better,” Megan whispered.
Steady black eyes seared her soul. “Then you wouldn’t mind flying Janelle from California to Texas for my birthday party in a few weeks?”
“No,” Megan said, too quickly. She tossed her head in an abrupt motion. “Why should I?”
“Just asking,” came his cool reply.
He turned and stalked away indifferently.
Her heart wanted to call him back, but her mind reined in the impulse.
He pulled open the waiting-room door and a cold draft swept inside.
Then he was gone, and she was left staring mutely at the closed door.
