Lightning striking, Kate thought while she could. Her heart was as wild as the wind around them, her breath stuck like a cactus in her throat. Jason was looking at her in a way he never had, not in all the years she'd known him. Something in that look made her toes curl in her boots, making her body feel as if his hands had stroked it.
He shifted, the movement slow, easy, turning so that his side was against the Bronco. His right hand, holding the dead cigarette, rested on the open window. The other was suddenly at Kate's neck, brushing stray wisps of long, dark hair, tracing an artery that was pounding crazily.
Jason was so close that she could smell the tobacco and leather scents that mingled with his spicy cologne. She could feel the warmth of his muscular body, the quiet threat of his masculinity. His dark eyes searched hers quietly with a new kind of curiosity. And then, all at once, they dropped to her soft bow of a mouth and lingered there with veiled intent.
The static from the CB radio was overloud drifting out the open window of the deserted cab, and Kate tried to concentrate on it, not on the very disturbing way Jason was looking at her. Any minute, everything she felt was going to start showing, and she couldn't bear to have him know how vulnerable she was.
But he already did. His dark eyes had caught every single giveaway movement of her body—her swollen breasts, her quick breathing, the yielding softness of her eyes. He wasn't all that experienced, and for the past few years he'd lived almost like a monk because of Melody's painful defection. But Kate was even less experienced than he was, and everything she felt was visible.
It gave him an odd sensation to know that she was aroused by him. He wasn't a handsome man. He was rich, and his wealth had given him opportunities with women even if he was still too bitter to accept them. But he couldn't remember a time when a woman had wanted just him, craggy face, mean temper and all. Even the one woman he'd loved had only wanted what he could give her. But Kate was looking at him in a way that made his blood run hot, and he realized suddenly that if he tried to kiss her, she'd more than likely let him.
When he realized that, reason deserted him. It was a new experience, having Kate want him. Breathing just a little unsteadily, he reached behind her tilted head, loosening the ribbon that held her long braid in place. With deft, easy movements, he loosened her hair and his fingers smoothed it down her back, slowly bringing her even closer to him.
"There's a storm...coming," she remarked in a quick, breathless voice. "A hell of a storm, Kate," he breathed as his free hand slid to her waist and then around her, roughly pulling her closer so that the tips of her breasts came into sudden contact with his chest.
Kate felt electricity rustle through her body at the feel of him so close against her. Her hands went to his shirt instinctively and pressed there, feeling the cushy softness of his chest hair against hard, pulsating muscle. It was wildly arousing, and she couldn't hide her sudden trembling.
The wind whipped through her hair and the dark skies over Jason's head outlined the set of his jaw, the shadowy darkness of his eyes. "Jason?" she whispered in what was half question, half protest.
His gaze fell to her mouth while his lean fingers dug in and pulled her even closer. He was burning now, the cool wind making the fever bearable as he breathed in the scent of roses that clung to Kate's soft body. All the reasons he shouldn't let this happen fell away at the hunger that drew bis head down. He wanted her. She wanted him. There was nothing in the world but Kate and her mouth, parted, softly tremulous, welcoming....
He tilted his head as it bent to hers, and he watched, fascinated, the way her mouth lifted for him, the way she caught her breath, the way her nails drew like tiny claws against his chest.
"The storm," she breathed dizzily.
"Damn the storm!" he whispered roughly. "Oh, God, honey, open your mouth..."
She felt the first tentative touch of his hard, warm lips on her mouth. Just then the loud roar of an approaching vehicle shattered the spell as surely as the pitchfork of lightning that shot down on the horizon and shook the earth seconds later. Kate actually jumped, her gasp mingling with the odd sound that burst from Jason's lips simultaneously. He stood erect, his breathing only a little rough as he glanced past her with eyes she couldn't read. "It's Gabe." "Oh." She hoped that her confused frustration didn't show, but it was too late for camouflage because Gabe was already out of the track and even with them. "Howdy, boss man," he told Jason, grinning. He looked past him at Kate, and the grin grew wider. "Miss Kate. I hope you got sewed up proper, boss, because we have got trouble."
Jason dropped the forgotten cigarette in his hand and quietly lit another one, giving himself time to recover before he answered Gabe. Damn his own vulnerability! "When haven't we got trouble? And you have got more than most," Jason said with a cold, level smile. "I know how Kate accidentally happened to ride over to the Bottoms...."
"No time for that now," Gabe said quickly. "You know that black Angus bull of Mr. Henry Tanner's that he put in the pasture next to our heifers in spite of all the threats you made?"
Jason's chin lifted. He knew what was coming. "He jumped the fence?"
"He tore it down," Gabe muttered. "He's having the time of his life with our purebred Santa Gertrudis heifers."
Jason murmured something that sounded obscene and murderous all at once. Without waiting for another word, he helped a still shaky Kate into the Bronco, climbed in on the other side, started it and shot off down the road.
Kate was fumbling with her seat belt, and Jason thanked God for the intervention of the bull. Another few seconds and all his good intentions wouldn't have spared her. He could see her mouth like a vivid color photograph, parted, waiting, hungry... He almost groaned out loud. He was going to have to keep his emotions under control from now on. His life suited him as it was.
God knew what would happen if he gave in to his unexpected hunger for her. The least of it would be the loss of the only friend he had, because Kate was most certainly that. And the worst would be an addiction that he couldn't cure, except with commitment. Jason didn't want to risk that twice. His one brush with commitment had left a bitter taste in his mouth. Kate was young and inconsistent and hell-bent on a career. She was a risk he couldn't handle right now. He could fall in headfirst, but she wasn't likely to. Not at her age.
He looked at Kate with a quiet, calculating intensity. "I didn't mean for that to happen," he said, his voice still too deep, too soft.
"Neither did I," she managed unsteadily. She couldn't think of another single thing to say. She felt tongue-tied and nervous and frustrated, still hungry for a kiss she'd wanted with desperate abandon.
Jason blew out a thin cloud of smoke, keeping his eyes on the road as they turned onto the long dirt track leading up to the Donavan house. ' 'If you want the truth, I've been celibate for a long time," he said bluntly, wanting to ward off trouble before it started. He looked at her deliberately and added, "I guess I need a weekend in the city."
Murderous jealousy stabbed into Kate like a knife. She couldn't even speak for it. Somehow she'd never thought of Jason in bed with another woman. Everybody knew there wasn't a less likely playboy in the state, even if Jason was rich. But now she thought about it, and the mental pictures she saw were shocking and embarrassing and they hurt.
He glanced at her set expression as he pulled up in front of the barn, where she'd left her horse.
"What is it?" he asked.
She swallowed. "Nothing. I'd better get home and start supper,"
He caught her arm as she started to open the door. "You and I have never lied to each other," he said quietly when she looked at him with visible reluctance. "It's one reason we get along so well. Don't hide your feelings from me."
"This is different..." she blurted out.
"Tell me," he persisted, his voice deep and slow and insistent.
Her lips parted as she met his level gaze. "I.. .don't want to know."
"About what?"
"About you. With other women."
His breath came hard. He searched her eyes for a long, static moment. Everything around
them vanished in the green mist of her eyes, the sound of her soft breathing. He'd meant to shock her, but now he didn't like the flash of pain in those soft green eyes. "I'm sorry," she said abruptly, turning her face aside. "I had no right to say such a thing." Her eyes stung. "Let me go, Jason!"
"For God's sake," he burst out, exasperated. He didn't understand bis own confused feelings. Her reaction to his blunt statement had thrown him off balance. She'd believed him. She'd actually believed that bald-faced lie, and it had hurt her more than he'd ever expected.
She shook off his hand and jumped out of the Bronco. "Hi, Red, did you put Kip in the barn?" she called to the young cowhand who'd seen them off, because Kip hadn't been at the holding pen when they'd driven past it. Even upset, she'd noticed that.
"Yes, ma'am, Miss Kate, I sure did." He grinned. "I even mended your saddle for you. That nail must have been uncomfortable, even in jeans." "It was," she confessed, avoiding Jason's interested gaze. "Thanks, Red, I'll remember you in my will." "In that case, I sure would love a Rolls Royce," the younger man said. "And a house in Florida, on the bay. And a few bonds...." "Oh, shut up," she laughed. "If I had half those things, I'd do my best to live forever and I sure wouldn't be riding around Texas on saddles with nails sticking through them."
"Well, it was just a thought," he said. "I'll saddle your horse."
She murmured a thank you and started to follow him into the well-lit confines of the mammoth barn, where several horses were quartered in tidy stalls off a wide aisle neat with pine shavings. "You didn't mention anything about your saddle being worn," Jason said from behind her. She could feel the warmth from his tall, well-muscled body and it made her legs go weak. She
felt tingly from head to toe and deliberately moved away from the close contact. It was all too devastating a reminder of how close she'd been to him in the field, of the flash of passion that had almost but not quite ripped away the fabric of their casual relationship.
"You've got enough on your mind," she said evasively.
"Kate, don't run from me."
The quiet fervor in that statement brought her head around. She looked up at him with soft,
searching eyes. He seemed really concerned about her, regretful almost.
She smiled at him. "Okay." She sighed. "I'm a little off balance, that's all."
"You might not believe it, but so am I." His dark eyes narrowed and he glanced toward the horizon, where the storm clouds had passed over without depositing a drop of rain. "Anyway, honey, the storm's gone. And there's no damage."
She looked up quietly, searching his black eyes. "That's right, Jason," she said. "No damage."
He touched her loosened hair, reminding her blatantly of his part in its dishevelment. She made him feel fiercely male, bristling with protective instincts that he didn't even know he had. She trembled at the faint touch, and he wanted to hold her, to comfort her, to keep her safe from any threat, even from himself.
"This time," he added, his voice deep with shades of feeling, his eyes darkening. "That can't happen again." She searched his face, feeling lost and alone already. "I didn't do anything," she whispered. "I didn't mean to...." He actually grimaced. "For God's sake, I know that," he ground out. "Leave it, Kate. Nothing happened." He turned away, dismissing it from his mind. "Red!"
Before she could speak, Red Barton came hotfooting in, leading Kip.
"Here you go, Miss Kate," he said, handing her the reins. "Mind that you don't go near the border over toward Tanner's, there's likely to be a turrrrrrible explosion in the near future." He grinned, glancing at the boss.
Jason sighed heavily. "Barton, I don't know why in hell I don't fire you," he said absently.
Red frowned. "Neither do I, boss. I've studied on it for months, and I still haven't come up with a decent reason for you to keep me on. But I'll keep trying, don't you worry."-He grinned again and tipped his hat to Kate. "I'll just move those heifers out of range of that lovesick bull, boss, while you explain to Mr. Tanner how many cuts of meat you expect to get out of him."
Jason pursed his lips. "Now that," he mused, "is a hell of a good idea. We haven't thrown a barbecue after roundup in a long time, and Tanner's bull looks like good beef to me." "Mr. Tanner's purebred black Angus who placed at the national Angus show last November?" Kate asked incredulously. "The same one he paid a hundred thousand dollars for? That bull?"
"Where have you been for the past fifteen minutes?" Jason asked with colossal patience. "Didn't you hear Gabe? Yes, that bull. He got in with my purebred Santa Gertrudis two-year-old heifers that I was about to breed to my purebred longhorn bulls, and God knows how many of them he's managed to breed. We haven't checked that section for several days, so God knows when he got in there or how many of them he's bred already!"
"That's sure going to be rough on them heifers," Red mumbled. "That Angus bull had a birth weight of over a hundred and thirty pounds, as I recall."
"Absolutely." Jason's lips made a thin line as he thought about it and got even madder. ' 'And no bull with a birth weight of over a hundred pounds is considered safe to breed to a virgin cow. First-calf cows have it hard enough without the complication of an oversized sire. The least damaging thing is that my breeding program will be shot to hell, and that bull is going to pay for it. Or Tanner is. Or both. Where the hell is my rifle!"