Playing For Keeps (Montana Men) (35 page)

Her eyes turned wintry. “Either you go by there and ask
them over, or I will.”

“All right!
Shit!
I’ll stop by there on my way to work. I’m warning you Karen, you better not
start any crap with her while she’s here!” Danger shuffled into his sheepskin
lined denim coat, grabbed his keys, and slammed the back door behind him. He
needed fresh air in the worst way.

* * * *

Karen
stood in the middle of what had once been Lacey’s kitchen and rubbed the rim of
her coffee cup with a fingertip. A fleeting smile touched her lips, there and
gone. Inside, her heart beat faster. Her stomach bubbled with excitement.
“Start anything with Lacey?”

She
laughed. Oh, she wasn’t about to start anything with Lacey Blackstone. No. She
was going to
finish
everything with
her. This time, the bitch would die!

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Love is, above all, the gift of oneself.

~Jean Anouilh

West of Denver

Duel’s Cabin

February 19, Thursday

Fifty-six hours after the assassination…

Flayme
woke to the mouthwatering aroma of bacon and fresh coffee. Her stomach rumbled
eagerly. She patted her tummy. She could hardly blame it for complaining. She
couldn’t remember when she’d last had a decent meal.

Moaning,
she stretched and wished she was as eager to rise as her insides were for a meal.
She had to get up though, her bladder demanded relief. Ignoring her mind’s
warning that the room would be cold, she tossed back the heavy layers of cover.

Flayme
slowly sat up on the side of the bed, hesitant to plant her bare feet on the
wood floor, but to her surprise and pleasure, not only was the room toasty, the
floor was warm as well. Heating coils. Oh, boy. Duel hadn’t cut corners when he
built this place.

She
looked around, taking in the man-sized bureau, dresser, and king-sized bed made
of knotty pine. Beautiful. The furniture glowed with a rich finish.

She
eyed the big pillow on the opposite side of the bed. Definitely used.
Definitely the manly scent filling the room belonged to Duel. He’d slept with
her? Duh! Well, of course, he had. No one else was here but him and her.

He’d
slept beside her? Cuddled her? Oh, yes, she certainly remembered lots of
cuddling. Heat crawled over her face. She still felt his hardness jabbing
against her ass like a branding iron. She remembered his big hands cupping her
breasts as if they were his exclusive property.

He
hadn’t touched her in any other way, well, except she thought she remembered a
trail of kisses fluttering along her jaw, her nape, warm breath and his palm
rubbing her nipples until they ached. She frowned. Why had he stopped? He was
always stopping just when things got heated between them.

Flayme
padded across the room, entered the luxurious bathroom, and turned on the
shower. Pinning up her hair, she stepped inside and let the hot water spill
over her aching muscles. Her thoughts returned to Duel. He’d stopped because
she’d been like a zombie, so out of it, dead tired and sleepy, and though she’d
moaned with pleasure at his touch, she hadn’t been able to wake enough to be a
partner. Half the time she’d believed she was dreaming.

As
she lathered her breasts, her nipples tightened, and she knew darn well she
hadn’t dreamt his touches. Her body was alive and sensitive. And it remembered.
Ooo,
the lecher! He knew what he’d
done to her. He’d fanned the sparks, then walked away and left the fire waiting
to be extinguished.

Flayme
dressed in faded jeans, a chocolate colored T-shirt, and thick socks, then made
her way downstairs. Last night, she’d been too out of it to appreciate the
cabin’s interior. Now, she paused and took in the décor on the log walls.
Trophy heads of elk, deer, moose, and long horn mountain sheep, male and female
were positioned to catch the eye.

In
one corner, a mountain lion rested on a tree limb mounted to the wall. In the
other corner, a six-foot grizzly stood looking sharp-eyed and hungry. Along one
wall, two cross bows with quivers and quarrels were mounted next to a dark,
pinewood gun cabinet with glass doors. Amazing. Wasn’t the man concerned about
thieves?

“I
know what you’re thinking,” Duel said, coming up behind her. He stepped around
her and held a cup of fresh coffee out to her.

She
moaned.
“Ooh,
it smells wonderful.”

He grinned and took a sip from his cup.

“What
do you think I was thinking?” she asked, following his lead to the breakfast
nook.

“How
do I keep everything from being stolen?” His brows rose with the question.

She nodded. “Clearly I’m as easy to read as a book,” she
said. “So how do you keep your guns, bows, and anything of value here from
being ripped off?”

“I
don’t do anything. Sit down and eat.”

Flayme
slid onto a padded chair and picked up a fork. He’d made a bacon, egg, and
cheese omelet then garnished it with mushrooms and grated cheese. Calories
galore! Who cared? She was starving. Flayme dug in and groaned. “This is
delicious.” She chewed and swallowed, then pointed her fork at him. “If you
don’t do anything then…
ahh,
I get it,
your rep keeps the thieves at bay.”

“Plus
the sign in the front yard.”

She
looked up. “Sign? Let me guess.
Warning
—if
you steal anything from this cabin, the CIA will hunt you down and torture
you.”

His
lips twitched. “Word for word. How did you
—
”
He
laughed. “You saw it from the bedroom window.”

“Guilty.”
Flayme finished off the omelet and pleaded for another cup of coffee. “You’ve
already eaten?” she asked as he rounded off her cup.

“I’ve
been up for a couple of hours.” He eyed her clothes “There’s a heavy parka in
the hall closet, gloves and a scarf. When you finish your coffee, join me
outside.” He pulled on a brown leather coat trimmed with fringe on the sleeves,
a black Stetson and at the last moment, tucked a gun in the waistband of his
jeans at the base of his spine.

“Are
we expecting trouble today?” she asked and wondered if she was really in need
of all this security.

“Every
single minute.” He eyed her. “I’m not willing to take chances with your life. Have
you ever shot a crossbow?”

“Uh-uh. And I have no desire to learn.”

His eyes sparkled with amusement. “You have no choice,
doll baby. If something happens to me, you’ll need to be able to defend
yourself.”

“With a bow and arrows? I’m not Geronimo.”

“Damn good thing, because I wanna kiss you.” Duel dragged
her to her feet and tilted her face to meet his.
“Him?
Not so much.”

Flayme locked her arms around his neck, and glided her
fingers through his dark hair. He crushed her mouth beneath his, nudging her
lips apart so he could slip his wicked tongue inside. His lips owned hers. His
tongue swept inside, seeking hers, plundering and robbing her of her breath.
The sparks he’d ignited in the night burst into a raging fire. The hunger
between them spread hot and fierce.

She fumbled with his shirt, yanking it out of his jeans,
then cursed when she realized she couldn’t pull it over his head because he had
that damn leather jacket on. He laughed and shrugged out of the coat. His
fingers trembled against her ribs as he tore her shirt over her head and tossed
it aside. He toyed with the front clasp of her nude-colored bra.

For a moment, he buried his face between her cleavages and
inhaled deeply. “You smell like honeysuckle.”

“Shower gel,” she whispered.

“It’s my favorite scent.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.” His warm breaths against her breasts were as unsteady
as his fingers had been. Slowly, he lifted his face to hers. His chest rose and
fell in ragged bursts. “If we do this,” he said, “there’s no going back. We
can’t undo
—
”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she ordered. “We’ll worry about the
consequences later.”

Flayme wasn’t sure how or when they ended back up in the
great room, but there they were, in front of the fireplace, the soft glow of
the gas logs creating a sense of privacy and romance. She hid an inner smile.
He didn’t know it yet, but the man had been wooing her since the first moment
he opened his eyes back in D.C. and kissed her in that little alcove.

Maybe she wasn’t his Nicole, but he didn’t seem to notice
that, and she was fighting for the man she wanted, loved—whatever it took, she
thought, whatever it took, she was willing to sacrifice.

Duel lowered her to the thick bear rug spread before the
low burning fire. He stood looking down at her and she thought she’d never seen
a more sexual animal than Duel Remington. As he removed his belt, boots, and
socks, he watched her, his lids heavy, his breathing ragged.

When he slid off his jeans and briefs, her breath caught
at the sight of his jutting penis. “You’re perfect,” she breathed.

He smiled. “Don’t know ‘bout that, doll baby, but let’s
see how perfect we fit together. Shall we?”

“Oh, yes,” she said, gasping, and lifted her hips so he
could slide her jeans and the nude silk thong down her legs. With every new
inch of skin he revealed, he pressed a kiss along the way until he reached the
tips of her toes. Slowly and with exquisite torture, he trailed kisses back up
the length of her body until he reached the nest of tight, red curls.

Flayme gasped and clenched her fists. This was heaven. He
teased her clit with his fingertip light strokes that maddened her. He licked a
path along her inner thigh, before settling between her thighs and dragging his
tongue along her clit. There, he toyed and teased, licked and sucked until she
screamed with multiple explosive climaxes.

He stabbed the inner tissue, tasting and licking until she
thought she’d die of pleasure. Slowly, he lifted his head, his eyes blazing
with passion and need.

“My turn,” she whispered.

“No,” he shook his head. “It’s been a long time for me. I
need to be inside you,” he choked. “I need to feel your heat surrounding me.”

“Then take me, cowboy. I’m yours, today and for always.”

He came down on top of her, nudging her knees apart. One
hand closed around his cock and he guided it to her opening. Flayme rose to
meet the head of his penis as it entered her. In one smooth thrust, Duel pushed
inside her.

Flayme bit her lip to keep from crying out at his possession.
She fisted her hands on his back and ignored the stinging pain. He hesitated,
but she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye. It was too late to
change her mind anyway. He was buried deep inside her and at the moment, she
hurt. She swallowed her tears and smothered the moan rising to her throat.

“Flayme,” he whispered. “God…”

“Just love me.” She cupped the sides of his face. “Make
this last a lifetime.”

He swallowed hard. “Flayme…I…”

“Shhh.
Don’t say
anything.” Tears tracked the corners of her eyes and she knew from the set look
on his face, that yes, he’d make it last a lifetime, but he’d never touch her
again.

*
* * *

Montana

Blackstone Property

February 19, Thursday

Fifty-six hours after the assassination…

Lacey
lifted her hips and savored the deep penetrations as Rafe thrust harder and
harder. When he shuddered helplessly, a low moan escaped from deep within his
throat. At that moment, his semen erupted inside her. No matter how often he
took her, each time was like the first time.

She’d
come home. Rafe was her lighthouse on a stormy night.

Most
of the time he treated her as if she was spun of glass, except when they made
love, then he lost control. Slowly, he pulled out of her and rolled, pulling
her into his arms. Yes, she was home as long as she was in Rafe’s arms. It
would never matter where they were. When he took her, claimed her body, he was
her shelter.

“I love you,” she whispered. She felt his smile as she
traced one of his flat nipples. “You make me happy, Rafe. Complete. I feel safe
in your arms.” She frowned in the shadows. Did feeling safe also feel just a
bit boring? No. She couldn’t think like that. Rafe loved her. And she loved
him. She forced a smile to her lips. “You hold me as if I am…” Her words ended
with the sudden banging at the back door.

Rafe
moaned and sat up on the side of the bed. Grabbing his jeans off the floor, he
cursed, “Shit, who the hell could be knocking so damn early in the morning?”

Lacey
giggled and felt her doubts settle in the pit of her stomach like a rock. “Give
you one guess.”

“Yeah.”
Rafe yanked on his socks, buttoned all the buttons except the top one on his
jeans and headed to the kitchen. “Couldn’t he give us just one damn morning?”

Lacey
grabbed the thigh-high sunshine-yellow silk robe she’d placed at the foot of
the bed the night before and tied the narrow belt around her waist. Sliding her
feet into matching house shoes, she hurried to the bathroom, brushed her hair,
washed her face and hands and fell into step beside him. “I might as well put
on coffee.” She sighed. Their leisurely morning was ruined now anyway.

Rafe jerked open the back door and glared at Danger. “It’s
a little early to be banging on someone’s door, Sheriff. You have any idea how
late it was when we got here last night?”

“Mind
if I come in?” Danger’s hard gaze slid over Rafe’s bare chest, the button left
open and his lips tightened. “I won’t be but a minute. I’m on my way to
Rimrock.”

“Like
I care?” Rafe thrust fingers through his dark hair.

“Rafe,”
Lacey said softly. “It’s cold. Let him in and shut the door.”

Rafe
stepped aside and closed the door behind them.

Danger’s
hot gaze zeroed in on Lacey standing at the sink filling the coffee pot. She
felt his eyes on her, felt them sliding over her bare legs. Heat spread through
her and she wondered why she hadn’t thought to grab a longer robe instead of
the one she did. She turned and he quickly looked away.

“I’m
sorry to be here so early,” Danger said. “I didn’t think about you still being
in bed.”

Rafe
snorted. “I doubt that.”

“Rafe.”
Lacey set the pot on the burner and sidled up beside him. She hooked her arm
through his. “Let’s find out what he wants and let him be on his way.”

He nodded. This was the first time she’d seen Danger since
she visited him in the hospital and told him she’d married Rafe. Her hands
trembled against Rafe’s forearm. She might sound normal, but she wasn’t
comfortable with Danger around. He’d always had a strong sexual pull on her and
suddenly she felt that attraction stir to life deep in her womb. Oh, God! This
couldn’t be happening. She thought no she’d
believed
Danger had killed every ounce of feeling she’d ever had for him.