Marriage at the Cowboy's Command (6 page)

D
espite the pain medication she'd taken, Caitlyn drowsed fitfully for no more than an hour or two before bolting up from another all-too-familiar nightmare about her parents' car wreck. She always woke up just as the car veered off the bridge into the arroyo. Unlike Robert's death, which had occurred a mere month after theirs, their deaths had been unexpected.

After she caught her breath and quit sobbing, she heard what sounded like her door closing gently.

“Luke?” she cried softly.

He didn't answer.

Had he come to check on her? She heard a heavy footfall in the hall. Then his door opened and closed.

Why hadn't he answered her? Not that she wanted a repeat of earlier when he'd caught her dressing. Still, she felt vaguely disappointed that he'd ignored her when she'd called out to him.

Usually, when she woke up after one of her nightmares, she was all alone with Daniel. Sometimes knowing that her parents and Robert were gone and that the entire weight of Wild Horse Ranch's fate rested on her inadequate shoulders made her feel so desolate she wouldn't sleep for the rest of the night. In the mornings, she would face whatever challenge confronted her. But at night, she always felt vulnerable.

Growing up on the ranch, the place hadn't felt lonely. Her father and mother had been alive, and there'd been more hired hands. Of late, she hadn't been able to afford the skilled help she needed. When Daniel was at school, it was just her and Manuel.

For the first time since Luke's arrival she didn't mind so much that he was right down the hall, promising to help her sort out her affairs. She hadn't asked him here, and she hadn't wanted him. But his presence felt oddly comforting. He'd certainly made himself useful tonight in the barn, which was surprising considering his lavish lifestyle in London.

He'd taken charge of her recovery and had been unfailingly kind as well, not to mention resourceful. He'd been unexpectedly good with Daniel, too, and the boy had taken to him. As she'd listened to them read together, she'd realized Robert had rarely spent any time with the boy. Not that she'd blamed him. All Robert had ever promised Daniel was his name.

What if Luke really took a long-term interest in her son? That might be just what Daniel needed after losing Robert.?… No, she couldn't let herself think about that. In all probability, Luke would tire of ranch life and the novelty of a son, as he'd tired of her so quickly all those years ago. And when he left again, he'd break her son's heart.

How could she prevent that? She risked havoc if she fought Luke. Hassan had sent him to help her, and now he'd found out about Daniel. There were too many reasons why she had to work with him.

The pain in her ankle sharpened. Thinking to get her pain medication, she threw off the sheets and grabbed her crutches, but then she heard the sound of Luke's low voice on the porch. When he continued talking, curiosity got the best of her. Hobbling over to her window, she lifted the drape. She gasped at the sight of Luke leaning against a porch post with his phone pressed against his ear. He'd found the exact spot where the signal was best.

Who had he called after he'd left her? She strained to hear, but his deep voice was so low she couldn't catch a single word.

Pulling her robe over her thin nightgown, she laboriously swung herself down the hall. She opened the front door and soundlessly let herself outside.

“Hi, there,” she called out, shivering in the chill breeze.

He whirled. Quickly he bit out a goodbye, saying words something to the effect of, “Gotta go, call you later.” Then he slid his phone into his pocket.

“Talking to your girlfriend?” she asked, feeling a little put out at the thought of his beautiful countess. Not that his love life was any of her business, she reminded herself.

He neither confirmed nor denied who he had called as he walked toward her, which made her crankier. “It's 9:00 a.m. in London. I couldn't get a signal in the house, so I came outside.”

“I'll take that as a yes.”

“Think what you like.”

He'd showered since she'd last seen him. Vaguely she remembered falling asleep to the sound of the water running while he'd sung a bawdy Western ballad off-key.

He smelled sexily of minty cologne and soap.

“Did you even go to bed?” she asked.

“Couldn't sleep. Jet lag. Problems with one of my newly acquired companies. I worked on my laptop awhile. What's your excuse?”

His white shirt was open at the throat, revealing tanned skin. His jeans molded to his muscular thighs. But it was the intensity of his dark, hooded gaze that challenged her and sent a trill of sensation up her spine. Suddenly it was very difficult to breathe.

You are the reason I can't sleep,
she thought, praying he was unaware of her powerful reaction to him. How was she supposed to doze with such a virile hunk showering right down the hall, especially if he was the very man who triggered all the erotic memories and hot longings she'd fought for years?

How could he have left her back then, without even saying goodbye?

For a second longer his eyes remained as turbulent as her own wayward emotions and then he seemed to master some beast inside himself. Turning away, he picked up a glass from the railing, swirled it and drained it.

Did he have regrets, too?

With a sigh, she moistened her lip with her tongue.

He groaned and looked up at the sky. “Pretty night,” he said. “I've missed stars.” Then he turned and studied her. “Apparently, I've missed a lot of things I didn't know I missed.” His heated gaze left her mouth and
ran up and down her length, lingering in such a way as to stir her.

“My ankle hurt.” She hoped her tone was matter-of-fact even though she felt a little breathless.

“Take more pain medication.”

“I heard you out here. I was curious.”

He leaned closer. “You know what they say? Curiosity leads little girls into big trouble. Especially if it involves a man.”

She tossed her head back. “I can take care of myself.”

“That being the case, I'd offer you a drink,” he said smoothly, “but whiskey doesn't mix with those pain pills you're on.”

He lifted a bottle of Robert's best whiskey off the floor and poured himself a second drink. “Hope you don't mind me raiding your liquor closet. I'll replace it.”

“Drink all you want. It was Robert's. Just remember alcohol's not good for jet leg,” she said rather primly. “You should be drinking water instead.”

“Oh, really?” He chuckled, his green eyes flashing teasingly in the moonlight. “I remember a time when you weren't such a Goody Two-shoes. A time when you liked to live dangerously.”

“I'm no Goody Two-shoes now,” she snapped.

“And that is the gist of our problem.” He stepped closer to her, so close she could smell the whiskey with the cologne, so close she could feel the heat of his body, fierce despite the cool night air.

Her nipples tightened against her thin cotton nightgown in reaction to him. Instead of backing away, fool that she was, she stood her ground, shivering a little, and not from the chill air.

“I know just how wild you are, sweetheart, and just
how good you still taste. That's what's torturing the hell out of me. Being in the house with you, knowing you were right down the hall…was getting to me. So, I came out here. But being out here with the smell of grass and hay and dust in the air brings it all back—especially memories of you. Being here makes me feel almost like I never left. Why is that? What are you doing to me?”

“But you
did
leave. And you wouldn't have come back now of your own accord.”

“You know why I left!”

She glared at him, remembering that her mother had said cash was missing from the truck when she'd explained why she'd had to let Luke go.

Still, he should have said goodbye.

“But I don't want to talk about all the bitter stuff. Not when this whiskey is so good. Not when you're standing out here looking so damn beautiful you make a grown man want to cry.”

“As if you ever cry.”

He laughed. “So why did
you
come out here on the porch? What do
you
want?” he demanded. “Are you chasing me, girl, like you used to? Because this time I don't aim to run.”

“Of course not!” When he laughed again, she caught her lower lip in her teeth and stared at him uncertainly. Was he right? Had she been chasing him? Just a little?

No! But he did look uncompromisingly masculine and devastatingly attractive.

“I'd better go back inside,” she whispered raggedly.

“Too late, sweetheart. You should have thought about that before you came out here to tempt me.”

“I did not come out here for that reason!”

“I think you did. And I think I know exactly what
you want. I'll give it to you, sweetheart, anytime. Just say the word.”

“Not in this lifetime.”

“Really?” He laughed again. “This is only our first night. We're both exhausted, and you're injured. Even so, neither of us can sleep because we know what we want. Because we know how good it would be.”

Afraid of him, and the feelings and memories he aroused, she turned to go, but he seized her by the arm. His hands gripped her waist, snugging her against his long, lean body. At such close range she could see the curve of his thick black lashes and the tiny lines fanning beneath his glittering eyes. His sensual mouth was full and much too kissable.

He frowned down at her, staring at her in a fierce way that made her blood fire and her willpower dissolve.

“You shouldn't have come back,” she said. “Hassan should have sent someone else.”

“If it weren't for Daniel, I'd agree. But we have a son, and Hassan suspected Daniel was mine right from the first.”

“How do you know that?”

“He told me. On the phone. Right after I saw Daniel. So I came back. And discovered we still have this…”

“This…this what?” A wild, tender sweetness filled her. For a second she was in the past, when she was in love with him. Back then he'd made it easy to believe that his feelings for her had run as deep as hers for him.

She wanted him to kiss her again, to feel his tongue in her mouth. She wanted his large hands on her body, their fingertips blistering her through her thin nightgown.

“Don't pretend you don't feel it, too. This insane, completely self-destructive need,” he growled, lowering
his mouth to the throbbing hollow of her throat where her pulse beat madly. “I thought it was dead. I willed it to be dead. But it's stronger than ever.”

Hissing in a breath, she swallowed tightly as his warm lips devoured her neck, nibbling her soft flesh, flooding her body with hot melting sensations.

“Let me go! You're just a long way from home and feeling horny.”

His smile was grim. “I wish to hell that was all this was. I wish to hell…”

Her heart fluttered at the desperate passion in his tone. Did he feel more?

He plunged his fingers into her hair. “I used to love your hair. I loved the way you smelled—like Texas wildflowers in the spring. Nothing's changed. You smell just as sweet, and you're just as soft—underneath your thorny exterior. You're sexier than ever, and I still want you. I told myself for years I hated you. Maybe I do. But right now I want you so much I don't care how the hell you used me.”

She wanted his mouth on her lips, wanted to lie under him, but the savage anger in his passion-drugged voice brought her up short.

He had some nerve to accuse
her
of using
him.
She was not about to take such abuse from a man who'd stolen money from her parents, a man whose abandonment had nearly destroyed her.

What had she ever done to him except adore him? Nothing. He was to blame for everything that had gone wrong between them. He'd taken everything she'd given and had let her parents down, as well. Then he'd trashed the most beautiful moment in her life by walking out on her without even a goodbye or an explanation.

With a final lust-filled glance at his sensual mouth,
she placed her hand against Luke's hard-muscled chest and pushed with all her strength.

“You're right. I shouldn't have come out here. I'm tired. My ankle hurts. I need my pain meds. And the last thing I need is you, a skilled seducer of women, pressing yourself on me.”

“What?” With eyes that were dazed with desire, he stared at her hard, trying to focus. Finally, the thin set of her lips and slitted gaze must have convinced him she meant what she said. He sucked in a hard breath and loosened his grip.

“Okay. I forgot your low opinion of me when it comes to women.” His voice was curt. “But for future reference, don't go following me around in the middle of the night now that you know what I want. I've made myself plain, so I'll think you're bloody well asking for it.”

“Well, I won't be!” she lied. “This is my house and I'm used to having the run of it! I won't be told what to do or where to go in my own home!” She wanted to snap out more sharp, stinging lines, but she was too upset—and too needy for the same things he'd said he wanted. She didn't want to leave him, but she had to.

Her knees felt weak, and her hands were shaking. No telling what despicable thing she might still be capable of doing with him if she didn't put some distance between them. Besides, he had the look of a man who was barely holding himself in check.

“Whether you like it or not, you're not living out here alone anymore,” he growled. “I'm a man with a man's inclinations.”

“I got it the first time,” she said in a low tone that sounded much calmer. But she wasn't calm. She was furious. “I don't like you giving orders in my house.”