One Wild Texas Night, page 9
What was important was that she was in his arms and he was showering her with light kisses, and in a minute, they would really kiss, another one of his heart-shattering kisses that she wondered if she would ever get over. At this moment that’s all she wanted, more than anything else.
“We’ve always been enemies, but there’s one place where we’re in sync, compatible, consumed with mutual desire and intent. Right here. In each other’s arms,” he whispered, showering kisses on her face and throat. “You want me. I know you do. I can feel it, Claire.” As he talked and kissed her lightly, he caught the red T-shirt in his hands and pulled it off to toss it away.
“Oh, Jake,” she whispered, and he covered her mouth, stopping her protest that was only a whisper. Her arm was tight around his waist, and her other hand was tangled in his hair.
She moaned softly, longing raging for all of him. Common sense was a dim whisper, warning her that she was going to regret every minute of kissing and caressing him and letting him kiss and fondle her. She knew she should stop him now before she was hopelessly lost and in love with him and needing his hands and mouth and body as part of her life.
“Jake, I’m not going to do this.”
“You want to kiss as much as I do,” he whispered, still showering kisses over her breasts as he unfastened her bra and tossed it away. He straightened to cup her breasts in his large, warm hands, and he was incredibly gentle, stroking her nipples so lightly with his thumbs, slow, light circles around the pink tips, stirring sizzles that she felt to her very core while he gazed at her with obvious desire.
“You’re gorgeous, Claire. Absolutely beautiful, so perfect and soft,” he said in a gravelly voice, his words just a whisper, but she heard him.
“You can’t imagine what you do to me. I want you in my arms, in my bed,” he said, still caressing her breasts while he leaned down to trail kisses down her throat.
Her heart pounded. Desire swamped her, heating her until she felt as if she stood in a blaze of fire. His hands, his mouth, his words, his kisses—all of them were seduction.
She longed to touch him, to kiss him, to have his hands and mouth on her. She wished he would keep kissing her and never stop.
She closed her eyes for an instant, ignoring the warnings that were clamoring in her thoughts, just yielding to his loving, letting her hands roam over his hard body. Only for a moment, she promised herself, and then she would stop him. She had to if she was going to survive. He would break her heart into a million pieces if she fell in love with him. If she let him make love to her, she knew she would be in love with him.
He was too sexy, had too much finesse. She would be swept away, lose her heart to him, a big, handsome, sexy cowboy neighbor, a man who understood her life, who respected her, a man who dazzled her, a man she might fall in love with forever. And that would be pain, heartbreak and hurt that could last a lifetime.
They were enemies, she reminded herself as she clung to his strong body and kissed him, surrendering herself to the most erotic kiss she had ever experienced. And ever would.
His mouth on hers swept her away, dazzled her, set her ablaze with longing for so much more. She didn’t know how long they stood there in each other’s arms, kissing and caressing each other, tension and need building.
“Jake,” she whispered, catching his wrists in her hands and stepping back. “I have to stop. I’ll be so in love with you, I will never get over it,” she cried. “We not only have no future—your family will be furious.”
He was looking at her as if he could devour her, and that made her heart pound more. His desire was obvious and intense. She wanted to step back into his embrace, kiss and caress him and forget every sensible warning.
She fought the urge to toss aside caution and put her arms around him. Jake was fabulous, sexy, kind, intelligent, and his were the best kisses ever. But he was too appealing, a risk to her heart.
She thought about the hurt she would feel if she let herself fall in love with him. She wouldn’t be able to walk away without leaving her heart behind. She had never been kissed the way Jake had kissed her. Fantastic, bone-melting, seductive kisses that just made her want more and more.
“Claire, let me do the worrying about my family,” he whispered. “I know what I’m doing and what I want. You’ve been independent long enough to know what you want. And you’re making what you want damn evident.”
His words were seductive, too. They inflamed her, challenged her, and she felt caught and held by her own desires.
Desires that she knew could be her undoing.
It was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do, but she pulled back from his arms, immediately mourning the lack of his touch, and shook her head. “I can’t do this.”
He lowered his arms, and his eyes speared hers. The desire she saw in his expression made her feel that she was the most important woman on earth to him. He looked as if he wanted her with all his being and as if he was in love, but she knew better than that. He wasn’t in love with her and never would be. She turned quickly, grabbing up her clothes. “This is what has to be,” she said, holding her clothes against her. “You have to go, Jake.”
He stood there without moving for seconds, his gaze piercing hers, and then, without saying one word, he turned and left her suite.
The urge to call him back was a powerful force, and she mustered all her self-control to fight it.
As she closed the door behind him, she leaned against the cool wood, but she wasn’t aware of it. Drifting through memories of Jake, all she remembered were his hands, his mouth, his body, their kisses. Fantastic, sexiest-ever kisses that she would never forget. And her body felt as if it were on fire.
Her emotions held her captive as her thoughts battled each other. Did she really want him to stop? Or should she make love with Jake? He was the sexiest man she had ever known.
He had become incredibly desirable. She wanted him to make love to her. She wanted to make love to him, to discover his fascinating male body, to have his hands and mouth all over her.
She groaned and held her hands over her face. “No, no, no,” she said aloud. She knew she shouldn’t give in to those desires. Jake partied a lot on weekends. He had women in his life always, and he had never been serious about any of them.
He would not fall in love with her. Claire knew that absolutely. She thought their attraction was a fluke because she was staying with him and they had been caught up in the emotional struggle of the fires. And she thought he had been feeling sorry for her because of her loss and paid more attention to her than he ever would have otherwise.
Men like Jake did not fall in love with women like her. She was solitary, plain, led a life that a lot of men didn’t like, although having her own ranch wouldn’t bother Jake. But she wasn’t his type of woman at all. Claire had seen him out enough in her life to know he liked gorgeous, outgoing women who were fun and sexy and would guarantee him a good time.
Jake was not a marrying man, so at some point, she risked a very broken heart.
Even if they were compatible, could she have a happy relationship with Jake with the family feud hanging over them and influencing everything they did?
Common sense said no, she could not have a good relationship with Jake. Not now, not later, not ever. Definitely, he was not the man for her. She should not get involved with him.
But did she really want to toss aside the chance of making love with him, of having the sexiest night—or nights—of her life with him? Would she look back with big regrets? If only she knew she could make love and then say goodbye to him, not get hurt, just move on, but she suspected if she yielded her body, her heart would be part of the deal.
“I may already be falling for you,” she whispered, her eyes still closed while she thought about him. “You’re going to break my heart if I don’t stop you.”
She opened her eyes and mentally told herself she had to stop talking out loud to herself about him, because he had already overheard her once and she didn’t want him to overhear her again.
She would probably already have lost her heart to him except for that streak of Reed in him where he could turn right around and annoy her. Like he had over that metal box.
“Dang, Jake,” she whispered. She needed to get her mind on business, take care of the calls she had to make about her destroyed house and forget about him.
And she needed to find another place to stay and get out of his house before she surrendered to his seduction.
She got ready to go into town and left to find him.
When she stepped out onto the porch, she heard sounds of metal scraping metal, so she walked down the steps into the yard. Jake was hosing off the big metal box that he had said had belonged to his family. She felt annoyed that he was back on that again. At the same time, her heart beat faster as she looked at his broad-brimmed cowboy hat pushed back on his head, his locks of black hair falling in a tangle on his wide forehead. His jeans were tight on his long legs, his flat stomach and his narrow waist. He had shed his jacket, rolled up his blue denim sleeves and unbuttoned the first three buttons of his shirt.
She saw the tangle of black chest curls, his broad shoulders that made the sleeves of his shirt pull tightly when he leaned over the metal container and tried to clean it off. It was a dull silver, covered with dents and scratches, far cleaner now than an hour before.
She walked close, and he glanced at her and then went back to his task of cleaning the box. She looked down at it and saw the scratches and letters where he had cleaned the dirt and ash.
A few letters stood out clearly: a large straight line with a half circle that looked like the top of a capital R. She couldn’t read the next letter because there were scratches, maybe an X. Then what looked like the lower part of an E, and she drew a deep breath. “I don’t remember seeing these letters carved in this box before.”
“Well, I damn sure haven’t been out here carving my initials into the tin,” he retorted. “But I sanded down some of the scratches that sort of hid what we have here. I drove back to my ranch house this morning. I needed to look things over anyway, but while I was there, I found my key to this box. I’ve been waiting to let you open it with my key.”
“You haven’t tried to open it?” she asked, more aware of the sunshine on his wide-brimmed tan hat that shaded his face, his muscled arms straining the fabric of his shirt and reminding her how it felt to be held in them. Also, she thought about Jake’s kisses and for a few seconds forgot the metal box. She was annoyed, but at the same time her pulse raced, and she couldn’t stop looking at his strong body, his very kissable mouth.
She wanted his arms around her. She wanted his kisses even while she was angry with him for still insisting her brothers had stolen the box from his family. She could try the key and put an end to his argument.
What if he was right? What if it was a box that had belonged to his family? She glanced again at the R that she could clearly read now.
She didn’t want to worry needlessly until she knew it without question. She walked closer to him, holding out her hand while she looked into his thickly lashed dark eyes and thought he had bedroom eyes, dark eyes made for seduction. “I had a key at my house for this box, but that key is probably buried by ashes now.”
“When we had this, there were three antique weapons we kept in it,” he told her. “A Winchester rifle and two antique Colt revolvers.”
Her eyes widened slightly, and she was startled, because those guns should still be in the box. That’s what had been in there all the years her dad had had the box. He always said his dad had given it to him and his dad had owned it for years. She figured it had been her grandfather’s until he gave it to her dad.
But how would Jake know the weapons that had been in their box? Could he be telling the truth? Would her brothers and her dad stoop to stealing something from Jake and then lie about it?
For the first time, she realized they might have done exactly that.
She looked up and met Jake’s dark gaze, unfathomable eyes that hid his feelings.
“You know those guns are or were in that box,” he said, and she could hear a tight note of anger in his voice. “Also, along with the old weapons was a Glock that belonged to me. I have my initials scratched on it.”
Shocked, she realized he had been telling the truth. She raised her chin and nodded. “I still find it very difficult to believe that my family stole this box from your family. They didn’t do things like that.”
He gave her a look. “Are you going to open it? You have my key.”
He was angry and she had been, too, but her anger had fizzled when he listed those old weapons. Had her brothers stooped to stealing this box? All those weapons except the Glock had been in the box. One of her brothers or her dad could have taken that gun.
There was only one way she was going to find out now. She took a deep breath and stepped closer to put the key in the lock and turn it. She was aware of Jake standing so close beside her. She was even more aware of the anger in his dark eyes.
Anger that might be justified.
Eight
The box was stirring up memories of Claire’s ornery brothers and the things they had done. Jake couldn’t keep from experiencing a low-burning anger. She had been so absolutely certain her brothers and her dad wouldn’t stoop to taking that box from his family, but that’s just what they had done.
As she knelt to unlock the box, he watched her jeans pull tautly over her trim butt. Her long legs were folded under her and that thick red braid hung to her waist, once again making him wonder what she would look like if all that red hair was combed out.
Even in his anger, desire still burned hot and strong. He didn’t want to feel desire. This morning, dealing with that box, he didn’t want to be tied in knots wanting her, but he was. She had always been his enemy, her clan the cause of the feud. She was stubborn and with an annoying family of a rotten dad and two rotten brothers. The younger brother, Laird, wasn’t that bad. Even so, Claire still could melt Jake with a look or set him on fire with a touch.
He wanted her in his arms right now. He wanted to peel her out of those tight jeans that covered what might be the sexiest legs in Texas. Then he wanted to caress and shower kisses on them. He wanted them wrapped around him while he made love with her.
“Well, here goes,” she said, giving him one more fleeting glance.
He was so lost in thoughts of making love with her while she had her long, long legs wrapped around him that he had almost forgotten the metal box.
And then she opened the lid and let it fall back away from her with a clang while they looked at a box filled with papers. To his disappointment, he didn’t see any weapons of any sort. He didn’t see any money. Just a mess of papers. He stepped closer and leaned down to look at old bank statements, old tax returns, faded letters and lists of horses that had been bought and sold.
“Well, there,” she said, turning to look at him as she stood and placed her hands on her hips.
Annoyed, he took a step forward, reached down and scooped up an armload of papers. Beneath all the mess of papers, in the area he had uncovered, was a long Winchester rifle.
Claire stared down at the weapon. “Oh my word,” she exclaimed, her cheeks flushing suddenly. “Jake, I apologize. This must have belonged to your dad, and my brothers...they took it. My dad had to have known where they got it.”
It didn’t make sense. He should be angry, but he didn’t care about the box now or the old weapons. He had proved his point. Now he just wanted his arms around her, to pull her close and kiss her endlessly.
* * *
He took out some more papers and revealed the two Colt revolvers. “Well, you can have this metal box, but I want the old guns. The Glock is gone—probably one of your brothers has it. I don’t care about the box, either. You keep it to store your papers. I just wanted you to know that it was my dad’s.”
“Well, you’ve got your antique weapons and I’ve got my old records. Actually, you can have the box. I’ll buy a new one.”
“You keep it. I’ll take the weapons because they’re collector’s items,” he said.
She looked down as she bit her lip. “Jake, I really am sorry for what my brothers did. It wasn’t right to take these guns. I had no idea.”
He draped his arm casually across her shoulders. “I believe you. And I don’t want what our families did to keep following us.”
She took a deep breath. “Yes, but we’re still living with that feud. It’ll never go away.”
“We can do a whole lot to make it go away,” he said softly, tightening his arm around her shoulders slightly to turn her toward him as he placed his other hand on her hip. His big smile was gone as he gazed at her with a solemn expression. Desire filled his dark eyes and made her pulse race faster. “It doesn’t exist between us,” he said in a husky voice. “We’ve already kissed it away.” His hand on her shoulder moved to caress her nape, light strokes that made her want to kiss again.
She was highly aware of him touching her, of how close he stood and of how intently he looked at her. She wanted his kiss, longed for his arms around her. She forgot about the world, her resolutions to be more cautious about him. The old feud? She didn’t think he was correct in saying they had gotten rid of it because of a few kisses. It could come storming back with more fury than ever if their relatives discovered them together, but right now, momentarily, where Jake was concerned, that feud didn’t exist. She wanted to be held in his arms to kiss and be kissed.
When he leaned closer, her heart beat faster. “You can’t imagine how much I want to kiss you right now,” he whispered, brushing her lips with his, making her long for more of him. She wrapped her arms around him as his arm slipped around her waist and he held her against him. His other hand tangled in her hair while his mouth covered hers. Leaning over her to hold her tightly, he kissed her, his tongue going deep, slipping over hers, sending waves of desire through her that made her yearn for more of him, for his hands and mouth all over her.
