One Wild Texas Night, page 7
“I’m definitely not afraid of your brothers, and they won’t hurt me, I promise you. They’re not in town anyway and don’t know what the hell is going on here.”
“We can’t kiss. I’m not even dressed.”
“You think I don’t know that? And I’ve never heard that for a reason to avoid kissing,” he said with amusement in his voice as he leaned in to place light kisses on her throat. “You’re gorgeous, Claire,” he whispered, and all the amusement was gone from his voice. His earnest compliment drew her closer, and his wet kisses on her neck made her tremble. She ran her fingers into his hair, and when he looked up at her, she found his eyes hooded with an undeniable desire. A desire she knew was reflected in her own gaze.
“This is so foolish. I’m vulnerable and you’ll break my heart,” she whispered as his head dipped down and his lips continued their foray on her throat. She didn’t know to whom she was saying those words—him or herself. “You’re the real danger. Not my brothers. My heart is at risk.”
He ran one hand so lightly on her nape, caressing her and arousing her, making her long for more. She moaned as an inner battle raged between what she wanted to do and what she knew she should do.
She should walk away from him. She was going to get hurt emotionally because if they kept touching and kissing, she would be in his arms, in his bed, and, worse, she would fall in love with him.
She couldn’t afford that. He would never love her in return, and even if he did, they could never, ever have a future.
She didn’t want an affair with Jake, and it would never be more than an affair, because he was not a marrying man. He’d never even kept his series of women in his life for long. They were seen with him for months, and then they were gone.
Even as she argued with herself, she thought about his kisses, to-die-for kisses that set her heart pounding, that made her want hours of sex and his hands and his mouth all over her.
Could she stand being one of the many women whose hearts he had broken in this little corner of Texas?
She knew the answer and knew she should walk away right now, but then he slipped his hand so lightly beneath the too-big T-shirt, his hand caressing her bare back and leaving a trail of fire that nearly consumed her.
His hand slipped around her waist, drifting up beneath the big T-shirt, pushing away her bra and then cupping her breast. She sighed with pleasure as his thumb stroked her nipple, and for a moment she gave herself over to his loving. She was vulnerable, lonely, hurt by the loss of her house, and Jake was stirring all the longings she tried to suppress, the craving for a strong man to hold her, to make love to her. And she could never find one better than Jake.
“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered. He cupped both breasts in his hands, toying with her, making her want more of him.
That nagging inner voice wouldn’t be denied, however. Its warning echoed in her head until she wriggled away and stepped back, looking up at him and shaking her head. “We can’t do this. I’ll get hurt.”
“I don’t ever want to hurt you, Claire. And believe me, you’re not going to fall in love with me because we kissed a few times,” he whispered, his tongue tracing the curve of her ear.
“Ah, Jake, you know I want you,” she whispered. They looked into each other’s eyes, and she could no longer refuse him. She wanted his kiss. And he was right—surely she could kiss him once, twice more without falling in love and breaking her heart. She stood on tiptoe, pulled his head down and placed her mouth on his. Her tongue touched his, and then she was lost in his kiss as he wrapped his arm tightly around her, holding her pressed against him with one arm.
His other hand slipped down her back and then inside her lacy panties, over her bare bottom. She heard him inhale deeply, and then he slipped the panties off her hips, letting them fall to the floor around her ankles. While he kissed her, his tongue stroking her, building desire, he caught the hem of the T-shirt and drew it over her head to toss it aside. He stepped back to cup her breasts again and to look at her.
“You’re absolutely beautiful,” he said in a gravelly, raspy voice. His thumbs played so lightly over her nipples.
Lost in waves that rocked her, she clung to him with her eyes closed as need built from his hands so lightly on her breasts. She realized soon there would be no going back.
You’ll get hurt.
That inner warning wouldn’t be silenced, no matter how much she wanted to ignore it. Finally, she pushed against him and opened her eyes. The hungry look in his eyes made her tremble, but she kept her resolve. “Jake, I’m sorry, but I’m not ready for this.”
Yanking up her clothes, she stepped out of his embrace, trying to avoid looking into his dark eyes that enticed her and melted her resistance.
She realized he wasn’t arguing with her or trying to stop her, and she was glad because she knew she couldn’t stand one more minute of his seduction. Gathering her things as fast as she could, she wrapped the big T-shirt around her and walked away from him without looking back.
* * *
Dressed and ready for the day, she still couldn’t get him out of her mind. Jake—a Reed.
There was no denying she wanted his loving, his kisses, his hands all over her, his male body against hers. With him, she knew she’d have the best sex of her life. But how could she make love to him, fall for him and forget him, when she’d never be able to really get away from him?
He had a big ranch next door to hers—they were both permanently tied to the sprawling Texas land they owned. One day she would have to live next door to him and watch him marry someone else.
She went over it all again in her mind and knew what she had to do. She had to fight the temptation. She had to get out of his cabin and off his property.
“Jake, there’s no place for you in my life,” she whispered as she walked out of her borrowed room to find him for a ride to Persimmon. She had to go to town and get some clothes.
She found him in the kitchen. The second she walked in, he turned around to her. His gaze swept over her, and she felt her pulse jump.
Jake crossed the room, approaching her, and with every step nearer, her heartbeat quickened. He had the sleeves rolled up on his blue denim shirt that was tucked into tight faded jeans—working jeans. He had on boots, and it took her breath away to look at him.
And then he was only a few feet away, standing close, smiling at her, his hungry gaze on her, and all the determination she’d felt when she’d made the trek from her suite seemed to buckle. In its place came one question: People survived broken hearts, didn’t they?
* * *
Jake’s gaze slid over her, and he drew a deep breath. In tight jeans, a red T-shirt and boots, she looked fantastic. “You look great in those clothes, but I can understand wanting a change. I’ll take you to town,” he said. His voice deepened and became huskier in reaction to looking at her. Since when did he find his neighbor sexy, appealing and absolutely fascinating? He knew exactly when—since that fabulous, to-die-for kiss that he didn’t think he would ever forget. And each one after that first kiss had been just as overwhelming and stunning.
“Jake, on the way into Persimmon to get clothes, I’d like to go look at my house. There might be some things in fireproof boxes that made it through the fire. I’d like to go see. There are a couple of boxes I had money in.”
“I hope not a lot of money.”
“No.”
“Ever hear of a bank?”
She gave him a look, and he noticed the moment when she realized he was teasing her.
“Ever hear of minding your own business?” she replied, and he laughed.
“Let’s get breakfast and then we’ll go,” he said. “I’ve got sliced strawberries and blueberries. I can scramble eggs and we can have toast,” he said, but his thoughts weren’t on breakfast as she walked closer. He couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to make love to Claire. How could her kiss totally change his feelings for her?
It took all his willpower to concentrate on getting breakfast on the table and keep his hands to himself.
She helped him, putting plates on the table, filling cups of coffee and orange juice. When they were ready, he held out her chair, his hands brushing her so slightly, yet he was aware of the contact.
As they ate, she was quiet, but he couldn’t miss the glances she’d flick in his direction when she no doubt thought he wasn’t looking. The look in her eyes was not that of someone who viewed him as an enemy. The look in her eyes made him want to drop everything, take her into his arms and kiss her. He ate his breakfast, noticed that she didn’t eat much of hers, and then he stopped her from trying to clean the kitchen.
“Betsy comes today to clean, so leave the dishes. Let’s head out to your ranch and then go to Persimmon so you can buy some duds.”
“That will be a welcome relief,” she said. “I dread seeing my house, but there were some metal containers that had important things, so I want to see how they fared and maybe pick them up.”
“They could be too hot to move yet. I can get some guys to go get them if I can’t get them into the pickup. We’ll see,” he said, doubtful she had anything that made it through the fire. “It may still be smoldering, and we need to be careful because some areas are probably still burning and can just flare right back up.”
“I’ll make it quick. I don’t think it’ll take long to look.”
He nodded, looking at her thick braid and wondering how she would look with her hair loose. He realized he was lost in thoughts about running his hands through the thick red hair, seeing it splayed against his pillow, and he turned away, shooing her out of the kitchen. He had a feeling if he didn’t, they might not get to town this morning.
* * *
They drove across land that still smoldered, and occasionally they passed a small fire, flames still flaring where there was something left to burn. Some structures were either completely gone or were partially burned and still standing but looking ready to collapse.
“Damn, it looks like a war zone. Are you sure you want to keep going?”
“Yes, please. I had two boxes I used for safes. I want to get those. There’s money and papers I need.”
“Okay. Make this fast. Fires are unpredictable.”
“I’ll hurry,” she answered and lapsed back into silence. He knew she was hurting and this drive to her ranch wasn’t going to do her any good that he could see, but if she could salvage something, he would help. He glanced at his watch, because they weren’t going to stay long. He’d bring her back if necessary, but he didn’t like being here and felt certain they shouldn’t be breathing the fumes.
When they entered her ranch, the damage was extensive. Her barn, outbuildings, employees’ houses—all were in smoldering ruins. And then her house came into view, and he heard her groan and he hurt for her. There was nothing left of her house except mounds of ashes, burned wood that looked as if a breeze would crumble it. He knew how he would feel if it was his home.
He pulled close and got out of his pickup as she went ahead, handing her a bandanna that she put over her mouth. He had given her gloves and had a pair for himself, because he could glimpse little flares of flickering flames under the rubbish. They both wore boots. He hoped she would hurry, because it wasn’t a good place to be.
“Do you want me to put the containers I find into my pickup?”
“If possible, yes. If it takes two to move something, just let me know.”
He walked through the rubble. There were metal containers, some too big for her to handle, one that took both of them. She called him to another one.
“I need this one. This is the main one. It’s got money and papers,” she said, and he looked down at a large metal box with handles on both ends and a dent in the lid. Recognizing the box, he stared at it. “I’ll be damned,” he said without realizing he had spoken out loud.
“Turn this over,” he told her, taking hold of one of the handles, because he knew it was heavy and would take both of them to turn and get it into his pickup. Anger washed over him as he bent to roll it over.
Jake looked at dents and scrapes across one part of the bottom. It was covered in ashes and burned black bits of wood. He swept his arm across it and brushed it off, peering at letters that someone had tried to scratch over while his heartbeat quickened, and his anger increased.
Just as he suspected. This big metal box had belonged to his dad.
Six
“What are you doing?” she asked. “This has money in it and some of my important papers. This is the main container. My dad kept papers in it and guns. He left it for me. I want to take it with us.”
Anger made Jake hot, and he looked up at her. “This metal box used to belong to us. My dad’s name is scratched in the bottom side. He kept money in it until it was stolen,” he said, feeling a deep flash of anger, because her dad and brothers must have been the thieves who robbed his dad. Suddenly he was caught up once again in the feud with her family, remembering that his dad always claimed Claire’s father and brothers had been behind the theft.
“This can’t be yours,” she said, a note of impatience in her voice. “This belonged to my dad. He had it before I went to college. He said it was my grandfather’s.”
“I think not,” Jake said, trying to brush off more debris. “Someone has tried to scratch over a name. We’ll take this and clean it up, but I know this box. The corner was dented like that when we had it because a couple of guys who worked for my dad dropped an anvil on it.”
As Jake’s anger intensified, he remembered times he’d fought with her brothers. He remembered the things her dad had done when her family owned the ranch. Fences cut, livestock stolen—her family was smart enough to never keep the livestock, but his father always thought her dad and brothers rustled cattle and sold them, moving them quickly so they wouldn’t get caught.
He thought they did it to be ornery, not for the money at all.
“This is my family’s box. Underneath all those scratches, I’ll bet I find the name Reed,” he said. “Help me lift it.” She glared at him as she grabbed a handle and they hoisted it into his pickup.
“Let’s get the rest of these metal containers,” he said, hurrying through the debris and coughing from the fumes. Anger rocked him, and he could remember other incidents of vandalism that had happened years earlier to their ranch, things his dad had blamed on the Blakes. Jake needed to get himself away from Claire and remember the feud, because he might not be able to trust her any more than he trusted her dad or her brothers. She was a Blake just as much as the rest of her family. She might be far more like them than she admitted. He didn’t want to get tangled up emotionally with some woman who had the same blood in her veins as her dad and those thugs that were her two older brothers.
Angry and grim, he worked in silence, gathering up three more containers. “Let’s go. We’ll come back for more, if need be. No one else is going to come get this stuff. Not out here. Let’s get out of here and go where we can breathe fresh air. I promised to take you to Persimmon, but we’re going back to the ranch first to wash this stuff off.”
“I agree,” she said, coughing and climbing into his pickup.
With both of them coughing, they rode without conversation, and once they were away from her place and all the smoke and debris, he took off the bandanna and tossed it into the back. She did the same. They remained silent all the way to his place. When he parked, he turned to her.
“Let’s get that box out on the ground. I’m going to shower first, and then I’ll clean it up and see if we can read the name that someone has tried to scrape away.”
“All right,” she said, glaring at him. He felt certain the box had belonged to his family, and he hoped he could prove it. He wondered why she was insisting they hadn’t stolen the box, unless she thought her family would never break the law and steal something.
He knew better, but he didn’t want to tell her, because she might not know some of the nasty things they had done. She acted like she didn’t know. If he learned she had ever helped them steal and do things to his family... His anger rose as he thought about that. He wondered just where she fit in and how much like them she was. Even if she didn’t know all they had done, he didn’t want to find her appealing. They had too much history between them. And he had a feeling the vandalism and the thefts had been directed only at his family because of the old feud. He had never heard anyone else complaining of vandalism or theft by any Blakes. The old anger that her dad and her older brothers could stir came back full force, and he remembered why he would get so angry at them. Far too often, they wiggled out of blame for anything they had done.
“We have to get out of these smelly clothes. I want to throw mine in your washing machine,” she said. “I can’t wear these to town or even in your house. I’m getting the hose to wash some of this off out here before I go inside. You may want to do the same.”
“Good idea,” he said. “I’ll get the hose.” He wanted to get washed up and then wash that box. He was absolutely certain it would have the name Reed carved into it, and he couldn’t wait to show her.
He turned on the hose, walking back to hand it to her first. “Go ahead. I’m taking off my shirt.”
“I’m sure you won’t mind if I do the same. I’ll have as much on as I would if I were in my swimsuit, and I can’t stand this smell any longer,” she said, placing the hose in the flower bed. With her back turned, she yanked off her boots and socks and then pulled off her red T-shirt.
