Heartland (19 page)

When she sucked in his lip, desire heated his insides as if he’d stepped too close to a fire. Pulling away, he held her face between his hands and fought to catch his breath. The blaze shining in her green eyes burned with the intensity of a prairie fire ready to consume him whole. “God, I want you.”

Mischievousness danced in her gaze as she smiled. “I seem to remember you owe me some payback.”

The low sexy voice did as much to him as a touch, and he shivered.

“I don’t recall owing you anything.” He knew exactly what she was talking about, and the prospect had him aching before she even got started.

She gave him a sassy grin and slid out of his arms. With agonizing slowness, she slipped the shirt off her shoulders and let it drop to the carpet. He took his cue and unbuttoned his own shirt. When she reached for the bottom of her tank top, he stood and kissed her. She put her hands on his chest and pushed. Not expecting the assault, he fell back onto the couch.

“Oh, no.” She quirked a russet brow. “You are totally at my mercy, Sheriff Cowley. Do I need to find your handcuffs?” When he chuckled, she pulled the tank top off and straddled his lap. As he kissed her, he reached for her bare back, but she intercepted his hands and shoved them over his head. She distracted him by moving against him and sucking on his tongue, then used the stretchy cotton shirt to bind his hands above his head.

While he looked up at her handiwork, she slid off his lap. “That should keep your hands from roaming at least.”

“Never thought you were into bondage.” He brought his arms down to lay in front of him.

“You know what they say about the quiet types.”

He let out a snort and tested the bond. The knot was surprisingly tight. “Well, since you aren’t the quiet type, I suppose I shouldn’t be at all surprised.”

“Uh-uh.” She pushed his hands behind his head. “You keep them behind you or”--she ran a finger down his bare chest, which caused him to suck in a breath, while her husky tone made his body burn for her as she spoke near his ear--“begging won’t be enough.”

She was absolutely beyond hot.

With a toss of her head, she turned and sashayed toward the stereo system.

“Turn it on.” His voice was hoarse even to his ears.

When her soulful voice filled the room, she looked over her shoulder at him with widened eyes.

“Every time I listen to it, I want to bury myself into you.”

When she turned with her mouth ajar, he chuckled. For a woman who had experienced more than most did in a hundred years and had more than a little sense of sexual adventure as his bound hands proved, she blushed as scarlet as her hair. “You like
My Summertime Lover
?”

He grinned at the incredibility in her voice. “It’s my favorite song, I think. I can’t believe the song was never recorded.”

She turned toward the shelving. “I wanted to record it, but my record company thought the song too mature for my age. I added it to the CD because I wanted ten songs.”

“When did you write it?” He’d assumed she’d written it while she was married, although the thought the sexy love song was for her ex sent a stab of steely jealousy through him. If she was a teenager when she penned the provocative tone…. He wasn’t sure what that said about him because the song sure as hell turned him on.

With a curious half smile, she faced him. “Six years ago.”

Holy shit, she was only sixteen then. Not about her ex. He doubted it was about the two Hollywood teenage boys she’d dated either. Who else could it be about? “Is it about Trevor?” He hadn’t wanted to ask the question aloud, but once the words slipped out it was too late. With a shake of his head, he sniffed, not wanting to think about Emily and his prissy brother-in-law. Had he been completely wrong about Trevor’s sexual orientation? “Never mind. I don’t want to know.”

She snorted. “No. The song’s not about Trevor Marshall.” With a sly smile, she walked toward him, placing each step before the other which gave her hips a seductive swing. She removed her lacy bra and pushed her shorts down her legs, stepping out of them before she reached him. All the while her disembodied voice and the angel dressed in lacy panties sang the chorus in perfect harmony:

Lay me down in the sweet green grass,

Kiss me, baby, love me all over,

Till I shatter like a pane of glass.

Forever be my summertime lover.

Breathless and painfully hard, he gasped, “Who?”

Stopping between his spread knees, she reached for his belt buckle. “Oh, that’s my little secret.” She opened the button of his jeans, never taking her gaze from his. Something in the intense celadon depths of her eyes had his heart skip a beat. “I will tell you the subject of the song was a fantasy of mine.”

Before he could say anything else, she leaned over and gripped his zipper between her teeth. He couldn’t breathe as she opened his jeans with delirious slowness. The sight of her had him on edge. Hell, if she kept this up, he wouldn’t need to beg; he’d be coming with a mere touch from her.

When she took him into her hands, he laid his head back between his bound hands and closed his eyes. She kissed the head of his cock, causing a tingling anticipation in every nerve of his body, and he let out a loud moan. “God, Emily…”

She ran her lips, barely touching down the sensitive ridge. “I’ve only just begun, cowboy. You’ll be begging before long.”

After she teased and sucked him until he thought he’d burst, he did beg, but she still didn’t relent. He pulled his hands out of his insubstantial bounds and grabbed her head on either side.

She lifted her lips from his cock and grinned. “You were to stay put.”

“Yeah, well.” His voice rasped. “I’m done begging and have decided it’s time to take what I want.”

Her laugh was low and husky as she stood and removed her panties. She straddled his thighs, leaned over him and combed her fingers into his hair. “I’m glad, because I don’t know how much longer I could’ve held out.”

As she lowered herself onto his cock, he groaned at the hot, slick heaven. Taking him deep into her, she kissed him. He gripped her ass and set a pounding pace. Less than a half dozen thrusts later, she tightened around him, and they both cried out.

Chapter 16

Three days later Emily sat behind the conference table in the sheriff’s Department answering carefully scripted questions from
Famous in America
host, Becca Larkin. Trish arranged the interview with the ABC Network primetime show from her Louisiana hideout. The opportunity of interviewing Emily excited the network enough they agreed to air it the next night. Seemingly, nothing was sacred. She answered inquiries about her divorce, rehab, and coming home to Texas. Although the producer wanted to record the show at the Double K, she insisted the taping take place in the sheriff’s offices and the content be supplied ahead of time. Also, Emily supplied a few suggestions herself, assuring the meeting go as she wanted it to.

“You’ve taken a break from entertainment. What’s next for you?” Becca Larkin’s smile was wide with bleached teeth showing and red-lipped.

Motherhood. If I live through Mike Ritter’s revenge.
Emily matched Becca’s practiced grin, but inside she was a bundle of nerves. “I’m getting my life back.” She glanced at EJ standing behind the camera man and the producer. He nodded with a smile, giving her courage to keep up the charade. “Yes, I’m taking a break. This is a tough business, and I’ve been in it for a long time.”

“You have fans all over the world. Do you have anything in store for them to tide them over until you’re back?”

She was too hot, being dressed in layers to prevent the prospect of the reporter or her entourage detecting Emily’s ever expanding belly. EJ had convinced her to trust his sister-in-law Judy. He’d suggested Judy might be able to help her figure out ways to hide the pregnancy. Judy had hidden her first pregnancy up until the end from her parents and everyone else, too. Apparently, the Mackenzie’s hadn’t liked EJ’s eldest brother much. In their minds, Tucker had limited prospects as husband material since he was only a ranch hand on the Double K, besides being seven years older than Judy with no ambition to settle down.

Despite the sweat gathering under her breasts and running down her back, Emily was glad she’d enlisted Judy for help. Together they ordered clothes online and had them overnight shipped. The older woman suggested Emily use a Spanx bodysuit to help hold her belly in as much as possible. Judy assured her wearing shapewear once in a while wouldn’t harm the baby, which had been Emily’s first concern; however, she couldn’t wear the restricting thing for long. It was too damned uncomfortable. Next, Judy found a long gray pencil skirt, then a black flowing top, and multi-colored scarf accessorized the ensemble. The outfit was nothing she’d ever choose to wear. It made her look somewhat frumpy. Although she had to admit, because of the long line of the skirt, the pleating of the shirt, and the large scarf artfully looped around her neck with the ends trailing down, the curve of her belly was total lost in it all.

“We’re all waiting for new music…”

The reporter’s prompting brought Emily back to the present and she swallowed. “I’ll be releasing an EP of my last six pop songs in September.”

The reporter’s dark eyes widened slightly. “Are you crossing back into the country genre?”

A healthy kick in the ribs nearly brought a wince to Emily’s carefully poised expression.
We’re almost done, baby girl. I know you’re probably being squished.
Emily clenched her hand into a fist where it lay on her lap to keep from rubbing her belly to sooth the active baby. She caught the concerned frown and ready stance of EJ. He hadn’t missed her moment of discomfort and would rescue her if she needed him to. Like a knight in shining armor. No, more like a cowboy. Her cowboy. A real smile replaced the painfully fake one. God, she loved him.

“I haven’t decided yet.” Which wasn’t a total lie. She missed singing and couldn’t imagine her life without it. But how could she raise her daughter and entertain as well? She didn’t want to take the baby on the road, hoping to protect her daughter from the evils of fame for as long as possible. Instead, she thought of the record company. The deal was a few weeks from being finalized. Midland Records agreed to release Emily from her contract. They would sever ties with Gabe after his album release and her dad after his tour. They could possibly be fully in business by next summer. “I do have something in the works, but I’m not at liberty to say anything about it today.”

Becca nodded appreciatively and changed tact. “On July third your stepfather escaped from a work detail outside Clements Prison in Amarillo. We were shocked when he murdered your personal assistant Kelly Piper,” she said, with her face and tone schooled in professional sympathy, then she paused as if to give a moment of silent honor or possibly for dramatic effect, Emily didn’t know which. “What precautions are you taking?”

Emily crossed her legs under the table, burying her shaking hands between her thighs. “Sheriff Cowley has been providing protection. He’s been most gracious in letting me live at his home while my parents are on tour.” She glanced at EJ, who frowned. He wasn’t happy with this plan of letting the world know where she was, but he did understand the necessity of it.

Mike was moving across the country like a ghost. Two days ago, he’d been spotted in Memphis at a gas station, but by the time the police arrived, he’d vanished again. Interstate 40 had check points at every entrance and at the state lines, but the FBI quickly ascertained he wasn’t traveling the most direct route between Nashville and McAllister. The Arkansas and Missouri state police and FBI were setting up check points on the back roads, but the going was slow and required more manpower than available. He hadn’t been seen since Memphis. Emily was resigned that Mike wouldn’t be caught until he was in town and had her directly in his sights.

Ten minutes later, the taping was over. The broadcast was scheduled for tomorrow evening, but the text of the interview would be released on line by morning. EJ came to Emily as she said a hasty goodbye to Becca Larkin and her producer, then she hurried out of the station, and he helped her into his Silverado.

She stared out the windshield and shivered, hoping she’d done the right thing. EJ climbed into the big truck and squeezed her hand were it lay limp as a dishrag on her lap. “Christ, you’re hands are like ice.”

Turning to look at him, she swallowed the lump in her throat and shivered again. “Now that I’ve told the world where to find me, I’m scared shitless.”

He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I’m not too happy about it either, but I’m here to protect you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She nodded and forced a smile. “That’s the only thing keeping me sane.”

* * * *

EJ drove her to Amarillo to the OB doctor she’d been referred to by her Nashville physician two days later. Although her mother had also seen Dr. Jane Holt, Emily was nervous about appointment. Most likely every staff member in the office would have seen the broadcast last night and would have noticed her exclusion of talking about her pregnancy. Not that the staff wouldn’t keep her secret--after all they were bound by the HIPAA privacy law and a non-disclosure agreement Trish had sent the office personnel to sign--but for the first time, she was uncomfortable with her secrecy.