Only Hers (23 page)

Hypnotic black eyes smoldered. “Not quite.” His head slowly lowered, giving her enough time to stop him if she wanted.

His lips brushed against hers. Once. Twice.

With a sound between a moan and a groan, she turned fully toward him. Parting her lips, she welcomed him inside. Her arms circled his neck, her hands clasped his head bringing him closer.

His large hands found their way beneath her top, stroking her warm skin. His thumb grazed across her pebble-hard nipple and she shivered with pleasure.

He smelled of wind and rain and his unique male scent. She was surrounded by him, by sensations she had only imagined until last night. His hand cupped her hips, pressing her closer to his hardness, then lifted . . . and hurt his injured hand.

“Ouch!”

Shannon’s eyelids blinked upward. Her body stiffened an instant before she pushed away. She hadn’t meant for this to happen.

Matt reached for her.

“N-no. Please.” She staggered backward, her palm thrust out in supplication.

“You want this as much as I do.”

“I don—” She couldn’t finish the lie. She wanted him more than she ever thought it possible to want a man. With the realization came fear. If there was one thing she had learned about Matt, it was his distrust of her and his cavalier ways. She wasn’t going to be any man’s castoff.

“I’m sorry.” She turned and ran from the kitchen.

Matt started after her, then stopped at the swinging doors. His growing need was a danger to his self-control. Needs made a man weak. Another lesson his ex-wife had taught him.

But with Shannon he had difficulty remembering. Shannon tempted him as much as her mixed signals puzzled him. One second she was getting away from him as fast as she could, the next she was insisting on taking care of his hand.

He hadn’t meant to brush against her; somehow he just had. He had tried not to be affected by the exotic scent of the woman so tenderly taking care of him, to disregard her soft curves brushing against him, to dismiss the warm brown eyes filled with concern.

He hadn’t lasted two minutes.

“I thought I heard you,” the housekeeper greeted as she entered the kitchen.

“Hello, Octavia,” Matt said, glad she hadn’t entered a minute earlier. He walked over to the first-aid kit.

“Hurt yourself?”

“Barbed wire.”

Picking up his hand, she inspected the bandage. “You never could get one on straight. You want me to put another one on?”

His hand fisted. “No.”

“Sit down and I’ll get your plate.”

After putting away the first-aid kit and the towel Shannon had used to wipe up the water, Matt took a seat. A steaming bowl of beef vegetable stew was waiting.

Instead of leaving, Octavia took the chair across from him. “Why don’t you take Shannon to the dance at the community center tomorrow night so she can meet her neighbors?”

“They aren’t her neighbors. Besides, she’d probably be bored stiff.” He reached for a piece of cornbread.

“As long as she owns the meadow, they’re her neighbors,” the housekeeper pointed out. “And I don’t think she’d be any more bored than she was today stuck here with me and Cleve.”

“Octavia, not tonight.”

“Shannon is a beautiful, caring woman. What’s the harm in taking her out?”

The harm was, if he came within two feet of her, his brain went South. The harm was, he had been thinking about her instead of paying attention when he had injured his hand.

“You know I don’t date women this close to home.”

“Make an exception. Any other man would jump at the chance.”

“Octavia.”

She studied his set features for a long time, then heaved her bulk from the chair. “I’m going. I can see you’re tired. Just think about it. Good night.”

Matt returned to his meal. If he didn’t know better, he’d think Octavia was matchmaking. She should realize by now, he never planned to remarry. There could never be anything between him and his unwanted partner except mind-blowing lust.

A lust that he had to deny or risk losing more than the meadow.

The last thing Matt expected to see as he came over the ridge was Shannon’s car parked in front of the rustic cabin in the meadow. He frowned as he pulled his horse to a halt.

He hadn’t seen Shannon at breakfast, but since it was Saturday he thought she was either sleeping late or avoiding him. He had secretly hoped it was the latter.

The morning after their first kiss she was in the kitchen acting as if nothing had happened. When she hadn’t shown up this morning, he had been strangely pleased. He thought he had finally gotten to her. Now he wasn’t sure.

But what was so important to Shannon that would bring her out so early? The only reason he was out was to see how the livestock and the crops had fared following the storm. It hadn’t rained hard at the house, but years of experience as a rancher told him that didn’t mean it hadn’t caused some damage elsewhere on his ranch.

Suddenly the answer to Shannon’s presence hit him. Despite everything, she still planned to take the meadow. White-hot anger swept through him. He urged the horse down the incline.

The cabin door stood open. He didn’t knock, just walked inside. Immediately he smelled the strong scent
of cleaning agents and saw that the cabin had reaped the benefits of them. Shannon stood by the open window.

Wide-eyed, she stared at him, paper towels in one hand, a bottle of spray window cleaner in the other. “W-what are you doing here?”

“I might ask you the same thing.”

She faced the only window in the cabin and began rubbing the dingy pane. “I think I should stay here.”

“So your claim on the meadow will be stronger?” he clipped out.

Her hand paused, then resumed rubbing the glass. “So last night won’t happen again.”

Her answer drowned his anger and left him speechless. It had been his experience that women didn’t like to admit their vulnerability to a man, yet Shannon had just admitted hers. She was up to something again. “It was just a kiss.”

“I—I know, but it has happened twice. There mustn’t be a third time.”

A scowl swept across his face. She knew damn well it was more than just a kiss. It had left them hot, breathless, hungry. He knew he couldn’t trust her. “Don’t worry, it won’t.”

She sprayed the pane again and rubbed. Sweat trickled down his back. Dressed in a sleeveless knit shirt and shorts, Shannon probably was only a little cooler.

“There’s no electricity for even a fan.” he pointed out.

“I’m sure it will be cooler at night.”

“I thought you didn’t like the darkness.”

“I’ll manage.”

She was being calm and polite again and Matt wanted to shake her. Then, he noticed something else: she had not stopped spraying and scrubbing that same plate of glass.

He rocked back on his heels and crossed his arms. “Are you running from me or yourself?”

Her shoulders tensed, then she faced him with the spray bottle clutched to her chest. “All right, Matt. We’ll have it your way.”

She had the lost look again. He pressed his arms tighter to his chest. He was not falling for that again. “I’m waiting.”

“You asked questions about my past that I wasn’t up to talking about before. Now I’m going to tell you because I hope you’ll understand and know why I can’t have any more complications in my life.”

Her eyes closed briefly, then opened. When she spoke her words thickened. “The—the reason Wade left me the meadow was as I told you. He believed it would heal me.”

Brown eyes glittered with unshed tears. “I desperately needed to be healed.”

Matt’s arms came to his side. His chest hurt. He barely pushed the words past his lips. “You’re sick.”

“In a way. My grandfather, the man who believed in me when I didn’t believe in myself, the man who was never too busy to listen to my dreams, the man who was always there for me, was dying.” A tear slipped down her cheek. “There was nothing I could do to help him. After all the times he had helped me, I couldn’t help him.”

Matt crossed the room and closed his arms around her. He was sure he was hearing the entire truth this time. Somehow he wished he wasn’t. “Don’t.”

“All I could do was hold his hand and tell him it was all right to let go.” Tears soaked into his shirt. “He was worried about me more than he was about dying. I couldn’t leave him to come to Wade’s funeral. I was afraid he wouldn’t last until I got back. I wanted every precious second.”

His hand swept up and down Shannon’s rigid back. “Don’t, Shannon. Everything is going to be fine.”

She pushed frantically out of his arms. “No, it isn’t. That’s the problem. I was a damn good ICCU nurse, but the thought of going back to the unit or anywhere with direct patient care is too much of a reminder of losing my grandfather. I know in my head that I did all I could, but in my heart . . . my heart just aches.” She drew a deep, steadying breath. “Yet, if I don’t return to nursing,
I’ll let my grandfather down, let myself down, let Wade down.”

“Only if you give up.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“If you don’t like how your life is going, change it,” Matt told her. “No one is going to do it for you. Feeling sorry for yourself is a waste of time. Believe me, I know.”

“Who was she, Matt?”

His face became shuttered. In trying to help Shannon he had revealed too much. “I’m sorry about your grandfather. You obviously loved him very much, so maybe you’ll understand where I’m coming from.” His gaze piercing, he kicked his Stetson back with his thumb. “I love the land, the ranch, the same way. It’s a part of me. It’s in my blood. Just like you fought to save your grandfather, I’ll fight to save what’s mine.”

“There’s no need for us to be enemies. I told you I plan to sign over the meadow when I leave. You’ll just have to trust me.”

“Women can’t be trusted.”

“Wade didn’t believe that.”

“Yeah, and look where that got me.” Spinning on his heels, he left the cabin and mounted his horse.

Shannon walked to the door and watched him ride off. In a way, Matt was right about one thing. Feeling sorry for herself wasn’t going to change her life. She had to do that for herself. That meant taking charge. Deciding to end her relationship with James had been a start. She just didn’t know what to do next.

One thing she knew, she wasn’t ready to admit defeat and leave. She had accepted Matt’s challenge and she was staying to see it through no matter how much of a dangerous temptation he was.

Sighing, she returned to the window. Matt wasn’t for her. He excited her, left her breathless with wanting, but she would only be another notch on his bedpost. He might want her body, but he wanted the meadow more. She was
certain if she signed it over to him, he’d put her off the ranch before the day was out.

Spraying the window cleaner on another pane, she scrubbed the glass. Her life was in St. Louis. She just wished her heart agreed with her.

Several hours later, Matt sat at the Horseshoe Bar nourishing his anger with a beer. How could Wade have saddled him with a stubborn, irritating woman like Shannon Johnson?

“Hello, handsome. You finally ready to see what you’ve been missing out on?” a sultry voice cooed.

Matt slowly turned to see Irene Nobles, a Saturday-night regular, in gold spandex and lace. Bosomy and nicely curved, Irene had been known to jump-start more than one man’s heart, but not his, and not for want of trying on Irene’s part.

“Sorry.”

Irene pouted passion-red lips, then ran two-inch gold-lacquered and glittering nails up his muscled thigh. “Give me three minutes.”

His hand caught hers before it reached its objective. “I’m not in the mood.”

She leaned over, her breast rubbing against his arm, her heavy perfume cloying. “Two minutes.”

“I don’t think so.” He moved her hand away.

“Your loss,” she said, and glided across the room to another male customer. This time the man was all smiles. Irene settled in the man’s lap instead of the chair.

Matt knew she had probably forgotten about him before she took two steps across the room. She didn’t care who paid for the things she wanted, just as long as she got them. Just like his ex-wife.

Although he wanted to think the same of Shannon, it wouldn’t fit any longer. Which made matters worse for him. It wasn’t money she was looking for, but peace of mind. While she sought hers, she tampered with his.

Finishing off his beer, he left the honky-tonk and
headed outside. It was completely dark and the parking lot was beginning to fill up. Getting into his truck, he pulled out of the graveled parking lot onto the main highway and headed back to the ranch.

Shannon and Octavia should be gone by now. He could go home to some quiet.

His housekeeper had been like a broken record once he came back to the house. “Take Shannon to the dance.” “Take Shannon to the dance.” To escape he had to leave his own house. He’d put in a perfunctory appearance at Vivian Gordon’s party, then headed for the door. She might have given up on him, but the other single women had not.

He glanced at the clock in the dashboard. Nine fourteen. The monthly community social should be in as much of a high gear as it was going to get.

Matt knew that the pot-luck gathering with a fifteen-year-old record player wasn’t what Shannon was used to. Perhaps her going to the social would be to his advantage. She’d see another reason why living in a ranching community wasn’t for her.

Parking the truck in the garage, he entered the house. As usual, Octavia had left the lights on downstairs. She said seeing the lights gave her the sense of being welcomed home. He hoped that wasn’t for at least another hour and a half. The ranch accounts needed to be updated, and he had a feeling Octavia wasn’t through with him. Once she learned Shannon planned to live in the cabin at night, he was going to be in for the chastising of his life.

Opening the door to his study, he was halfway across the room when he realized he wasn’t alone. He spun around.

A shy smile on her face, Shannon uncurled her sock-covered feet from beneath her. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“What are you doing here?”