Texas Heat (9 page)

He wanted to possess this woman. In every way. He wanted her body and her heart and even her soul. He wanted his name on her lips, her body writhing under his. The image of her in any other man's arms, even his own brother's, sent a wave of fury through him. He tightened his hold on her, shifting his weight on the couch, pressing her back against the cushions with his body. Her eyes flew open at the sudden movement.

“I'll tell you where I was, Savannah. I was at the bar, determined to forget about you. Determined that I wouldn't touch you again or dream about you night after night. I thought I could drown the ache that rips me in two every time I look at you, but it didn't take long to realize that nothing was going to ease that pain.”

He stared down at her wide eyes, felt her tremble against him. “Nothing except this.”

He caught her mouth with his, felt the protest as she surged upward. But when her lips opened to his and her arms came around his neck, he realized there was no protest, only acceptance.

Her surrender aroused him fully, invoking a sense of power in him he'd never before experienced. The velvet stroke of her tongue against his own was as heady as any wine, as electrifying as a bolt of lightning. The small whimper that shuddered from her throat into his nearly sent him over the edge.

He pulled his mouth from hers and dragged a hot trail of kisses down her throat. “Savannah,” he said roughly, “you've got to tell me now if you want me to stop. God help me, I won't be able to in three seconds.”

Savannah stilled, and the sound of her heart thundered in her head. Three seconds to make a decision that she knew would change the rest of her life. There could be no recriminations later, no excuses that she hadn't been aware of what she was doing. Immediately her mind began to argue with her body.
He'll hurt you, Savannah. He's made it clear he doesn't want commitment. This is purely physical....

But the feel of his mouth on her neck drove every rational thought from her mind. The time had come to trust her heart, not her head. She wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her. There would be a price to pay, and that was something she would have to accept.

Her hands moved sensuously down his chest toward his belt buckle. “Don't stop,” she whispered.

Relief swept over Jake, followed by a wave of desire so strong it frightened him. He hesitated at the thought. Sex had never frightened him before. Not even his first time when he was sixteen. So why now? Why was this different?

Savannah felt Jake's hesitation and she slowly opened her eyes. She saw the uncertainty in his gaze and knew he was wrestling with some inner demon. She also knew that he wanted her; the arousal pressing against her thigh proved that. And she wanted him. More than she ever would have dreamed possible. They would both have to deal with their own demons later, but for now, there was only this moment. No yesterday. No tomorrow. No land. No Emma.

She drew him to her as if he were her next breath, her next heartbeat. “Make love to me, Jake,” she whispered against his mouth. “Please.”

Savannah's soft plea was Jake's undoing. His control snapped and he went over the edge he'd been desperately clinging to. His lips covered hers again and again, making love to her mouth while his hands slipped down to cup her breasts. Her sharp intake of breath spurred him on and he quickly tugged her blouse from the waist of her skirt. His fingers slid over the warm skin of her stomach then deftly unsnapped the front clasp of her bra. He filled his hands with her soft firm flesh, massaging the hard peaks of her nipples with his thumbs. She moaned into his mouth.

“Savannah,” he murmured, his voice raspy, “you're making me crazy.”

She wanted to tell him she was just as crazy, but it was impossible to think. And when she felt his lips move down her neck, then lower still, she gave up trying. Deftly he unbuttoned her blouse and pushed the fabric out of the way. Sensation after incredible sensation rippled through her as his mouth closed over the tip of one aching breast. His tongue was hot and moist and she cried out, arching toward him, raking her nails over his shoulders.

He lavished the same attention on her other breast, until she thought her bones might melt from the sheer heat.

Breathing heavily, he dragged himself away from her and stood, reaching down to take her hand. “In the bedroom,” he said raggedly. “I...have protection in there.”

Protection? Her eyes widened as his meaning sank through the fog of pleasure surrounding her.
Dear Lord,
she thought, taking his hand, how could she have forgotten? Embarrassment heated her cheeks and neck. A moment of awkwardness came over her, but he pulled her to him and when his mouth covered hers, she knew this was right, that she was where she belonged.

They moved toward the bedroom slowly, wrapped in each other's arms. He kissed her deeply, again and again, shedding her blouse and bra along the way while she worked at the buttons of his shirt. Savannah slid her hands over Jake's chest and he moaned, stopping in the hallway to press her back against the wall while he slipped her skirt down. Except for her panties, she was naked. His hands cupped her bottom and he lifted her against him, pressing his arousal against the juncture of her thighs.

Their gazes locked in the dim light, and as she slipped her fingers between them and unhooked the button of his jeans, a blaze of passion burst forth in Jake's eyes. The soft rasp of his zipper and the heavy sound of their breathing filled the warm night air. Her fingers slid under the waistband of his jeans.

Jake took hold of Savannah's hand and stopped the path her fingers had taken. “We'll never make it to the bedroom if you do that,” he said hoarsely, then lifted her. He stared into her eyes, his gaze narrowed and intense. “Wrap your legs around me.”

She did and he moaned, pressing her back against the wall again as he moved his lips over hers. He pulled her tightly to him and carried her to the bedroom, letting her slide down his body as he released her.

“Now, Savannah,” he said huskily.

Her heart pounded with an urgency she'd never felt before. Spreading her fingers, she slid her hands down Jake's hard chest, then slid his jeans and briefs downward. His hips were smooth and lean, muscled like a powerful sleek animal. His arousal was powerful, exciting, but she suddenly felt unsure of herself.

Sensing her uncertainty, his hands closed over her wrists, guiding her to him. He whispered her name, encouraging her, and soon she felt the power of her own sexuality. She heard him moan and the response she elicited excited her beyond anything she'd ever experienced. Velvet steel, she thought.

He turned away from her, reaching to the nightstand, and a moment later he wrapped his arms around her and they fell to the bed. His hand slid along the side of her body, over her hip, pulling her panties away.

He entered her in one furious thrust.

Savannah gasped, and a wave of intense pleasure burst inside of her. Closing her eyes, she instinctively lifted her hips. A sound, more animal than human, rumbled from deep in Jake's throat.

“Open your eyes,” he said roughly. “Look at me, Savannah.”

She did as he asked. She would have done anything he'd asked at that moment. Heat coiled inside her and it felt as if she were tearing apart. He filled her, bringing her to the brink, then pulling away. He moved slowly, holding her gaze with his, holding her hips still when she attempted to hurry him.

“Jake,” she breathed, “please...I can't...”

“Yes, you can,” he whispered hoarsely. “I want to watch you go crazy, baby. Just for me.” He began to move faster. “Only for me.”

Savannah caught her lower lip, but she couldn't stop the moan. Her blood pounded in her temples. Her heart hammered in her chest. And still she held his gaze.

She called him names. A mixture of endearments and cursing. He only smiled, filling her again and again with exquisite deliberateness.

Until she did go crazy.

And to her ultimate satisfaction, she brought him with her.

* * *

There was no perception of time for Savannah. Only a dim hazy awareness of the moonlit room and the slow return of the senses. The tick of the bedside clock, the lone call of a night bird. Damp skin against damp skin. The pressure of the soft mattress against her back and a hard muscled body on top of her.

She couldn't move. Jake shifted his weight, pulling her onto her side without breaking the intimate connection of their bodies. She smiled contentedly, amazed he was able to do that. His lips grazed the length of her collarbone and moved slowly up her neck.

She waited for the avalanche of expected emotions to roll over her and carry her away. Embarrassment. Guilt. Regret. Most certainly regret.

Nothing. She felt none of those things. Only an incredible sense of the world being right. That she was where she belonged. Perhaps tomorrow she'd feel differently, but for now, she had an extraordinary desire to purr.

“Remind me to thank Jessica for keeping Emma tonight,” Jake said between ragged breaths.

Savannah smiled and ran her fingers down the sinews of Jake's arm. “And Amy.”

His teeth nibbled on her earlobe. “Hmm. And Amy's mother.”

Her fingers skated across his thigh. “And Amy's fath—”

He caught her mouth with his, cutting off her words. His kiss was possessive, as ardent as it was passionate.

Jake wanted desperately to tell her what he was feeling, but he didn't understand it himself. He'd thought he could distance himself once they made love. That he'd be able to think clearly and logically. But he couldn't. Not yet.

He pulled her against him and marveled at the silky feel of her hair against his shoulder and the soft brush of her breasts against his chest.

Her fingers trailed lazily over his arm. “I thought you'd gone off with a redhead tonight,” she admitted.

“Redhead?” Jake's brow knotted. “Oh, you mean Marie.”

She looked up at him, but he said nothing else. Savannah frowned and pinched his arm. He laughed and pulled her tighter to him. “Marie is crazy about Jared. Every time she sees me, she asks how he's doing, but what she really wants to know is does she have a chance with him.”

So the woman hadn't been after Jake. Savannah smiled against Jake's chest. “Does she?”

Jake let out a long heavy breath and shook his head. “Jared's too busy blaming himself for Jonathan's death to get involved with anyone.”

Savannah lifted her head and looked up at Jake. “Jonathan?”

He moved away from her then and sat, leaning back against the headboard. “Jonathan was our brother, Jared's twin. He died three years ago in an oil-rig accident. Jared blames himself.”

Jared's twin. Savannah remembered the picture in the hallway with Jared and another boy. It had been Jonathan, she realized now. “I'm sorry,” she whispered, then moved into his arms.

“Yeah,” he said softly, running his fingers over Savannah's hair. “We all miss him.”

Savannah listened as Jake's heart slowly returned to normal. She'd lost a sister, he a brother. They both understood the pain of that loss. When she pressed her lips to Jake's chest, his hands moved down and tightened on her shoulders.

“There's something you still have to do tonight, Savannah,” he murmured against her temple.

She pulled away and looked into his eyes. “And what's that?”

“Dance with me.”

She raised one brow. “Exactly what kind of dancing did you have in mind?”

One corner of his mouth turned up and his eyes smiled. “Something slow.”

She lifted her mouth to his. “I thought you'd never ask.”

J
ake was already gone when Savannah awoke the next morning. Dawn was barely more than a pale streak across the horizon. She felt guilty that she'd slept while he worked.

Yet she also felt wonderful.

Savannah arched her back, then sat up, watching the early-morning light gently nudge the day. The sheets were a rumpled mess, much as she imagined herself, and the blanket was lying on the floor beside the bed.

Jake's bed.

Closing her eyes, Savannah leaned back against the antique mahogany headboard and sighed. She'd known that they would make love. She may have denied it on a conscious level, but inside, deep down where that little voice whispered, she'd known all along. Maybe even from the first time they'd met, when he'd taken her hand in his. Even then, it had been powerful.

Powerful.
That was the word. How else could she describe what had happened between them? Beautiful, yes. Incredible, definitely. But “powerful” gave the feeling a life of its own. Lord knew, it certainly had a mind of its own. Her cheeks grew hot as she remembered her unusual—or should she say animated—lack of inhibition. They'd slept, but never for long. It took only a brush of lips, or the slightest touch of a hand, and they were in each other's arms again with an urgency that had shocked them both.

But what really shocked her was that now, as she lay in Jake's bed, she felt no regret. She refused to spoil the most incredible night of her life by wishing it hadn't happened. It
had
happened.

And she was in love.

From the first moment he'd placed his hand in hers she'd been acutely aware of something between them. She'd told herself it was just physical, that it would pass, but in her heart, she'd known all along that it went much deeper than that. It had come to life when he'd kissed her that first time after they'd fallen in the mud hole, and grown with intensity as each day passed. She could no more have prevented it than she could stop the sun from rising.

With a sigh, she stared out the window again. The sun had risen. They'd spent the night together, made love, and now it was just another day. Jake had made it clear he wanted no ties, no commitments. She had no reason to believe he felt any different about that now than he did last night. For him, it had been physical.
She
was the one with the problem.

She frowned. Falling in love with Jake was going to make her life extremely complicated. But then, when it came to Jake, what else could she expect?

* * *

Jake pitched the last of the hay into the end stall, then shut off the water spigot filling the trough. Rosemary moved closer and nudged Jake's pocket. Savannah had been riding the chestnut mare almost every day, and the animal had come to expect a treat.

“Savannah's been spoiling you, hasn't she?” he said, and pulled out a hunk of carrot. Rosemary snatched it up and crunched loudly. “Better not get used to it,” Jake warned the mare as he rubbed her ears.

Listen to your own advice,
he told himself as he closed the stall gate. After last night, it would be so easy to let himself get used to a lot of things.
Like the feel of warm, soft skin against his every night. The touch of silky hair against his chest. Someone to whisper thoughts to in the early morning....

Not just any someone. Savannah.

She'd gotten to him. More than he wanted to admit. More than he'd ever dreamed possible. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

Was there?

No. He'd been down that road before. City women couldn't cut it here for the long term. Carolyn had been all right the first six months. Then she'd started traveling with Myrna to “visit civilization.” Then she'd started traveling on her own. He hadn't the money or the patience to support that then. And he sure as hell didn't have it now.

You think I'd raise kids in this hayseed town? Not in a million years, cowboy.

Emma's calf bawled at him from the corner stall, waiting impatiently for her breakfast. Jake realized he'd clenched his hands into fists, and he loosened his fingers, letting the anger pass through him. There were some things a man never forgave.

He picked up one of the bottles of formula he'd brought with him from the house. “You miss Emma, don't you, Betsy?” Jake crooned, heading for the stall. “I guess I do, too.”

He did miss her. She'd been gone one day and he found himself anxious for her return. Not that he'd have missed last night for anything, he thought with a slow smile. In fact, if he hurried, maybe he could get back before Savannah awoke. He was tired, but he wasn't
that
tired.

She'd been sleeping peacefully when he'd slipped out of bed this morning. He'd had the most incredible urge to pull her in his arms and just hold her, nothing else. Just hold her and tell her—

Tell her what?

“Good morning.”

He spun abruptly at the sound of her soft voice. She was dressed already, in jeans and a blue shirt rolled to the elbows. Her hair fell loosely around her shoulders. As her gaze met his, he realized there were faint shadows under her eyes. Her cheeks were cranberry red.

She was embarrassed, he realized.

He set the bottle down and walked toward her. When he pulled her into his arms and kissed her, she came willingly. Eagerly.
Thank God,
he thought.

“It is now,” he whispered against her cheek, then kissed her again. Deeply.

She responded to his kiss by slipping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his.

“I can't get enough of you,” he murmured, moving her toward a pile of fresh hay.

She laughed softly. “You certainly are trying.”

Arms entwined, they fell together on the hay. He kissed her, and her lips were warm and pliant under his. She was so soft, he thought, so incredibly soft. He rolled her onto her back and reached for the snap of her jeans. Her eyes glinted with passion and she reached for him, as well.

Betsy bawled again.

Jake sighed and laid his forehead against Savannah's. “That cow is going to be steaks before this day is through.”

Savannah rose reluctantly and brushed the hay off her jeans. “Don't let Emma hear you say that. She's got Betsy entered in the Roundup next week.”

Picking up the bottle, Savannah moved toward the calf. Betsy clamped down hungrily on the nipple. Jake watched her feed the animal and a strange feeling centered itself in his chest. In the two years his ex-wife had been here, she'd never once come near any of the animals. She'd hated the smell and the dirt.

“Savannah.” He moved beside her.

She smoothed the hair between Betsy's ears. “Hmm?”

His heart began to pound and his palms felt sweaty. “I want you to stay.”

Her hand stilled, but she didn't look at him. “Stay?”

“Here,” he said. “With me. You and Emma.”

She stared at Betsy. “I'm not sure what you mean.”

Dammit, why was she making this so difficult? Did she have any idea how hard this was for him? “I want you and Emma to come live here, at Stone Creek.”

She set the nearly empty bottle down and rose slowly. Her gaze lifted to him and he saw the cautious look in her eyes. “In what capacity?”

In what capacity?
It wasn't as if he was hiring, for God's sake. “You and me, and Emma.”

Her lips thinned. “Why?”

He felt his jaw tense. “We're good together, Savannah. Last night proved that. And as far as Emma is concerned, a family would be good for her.”

Savannah stared at him for a long moment. “That's right, Jake,” she said with deadly calm. “A family would be good for Emma. A
real
family. If you're looking for a live-in, no-strings-attached bedmate, try the Help Wanted section of the newspaper.”

“Savannah, just listen—”

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Have you given any consideration to Emma and the kind of example we'd be setting for her if we lived here under those conditions?”

“People live together all the time. It's a fact of life.”

“It's not a fact of
my
life, Jake. And it's not going to be for Emma, either. My sister may have fallen in love with the wrong man and gotten pregnant, but I have no intention of making that same mistake.”

Jake felt as if a fist had punched him in the stomach. His eyes narrowed. “Are you saying that having a baby with me would be a mistake?”

She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. “You haven't heard one word I've said, have you?” she said quietly.

When she opened her eyes again, he saw the hurt there. He just didn't understand it. “The answer is no, Jake. I won't live with you, not like that.”

Shoulders stiff, head high, she walked past him and out of the barn.

Fine, then.
He clenched and unclenched his hands, resisting the urge to follow her. Let her walk. Better now than later. If she didn't care enough to stay and give it a try, then he'd completely misunderstood last night. It wasn't the first time he'd been wrong about a woman.

But he sure as hell intended to see that it would be the last.

* * *

Stone Manor was an opulent, twenty-three-room mansion that sat dead center in the one hundred thousand acres that made up Stone Creek. The exterior of the house was something on the order of Georgian Colonial, while the interior ran somewhere along the lines of Greek Revival. In the entry, Emma stared openmouthed at a marble fountain surrounded by alabaster water maidens, then made faces at herself in the glossy white marble floors. Green silk covered the walls, and gold trimmed the extensive thick moldings.

It was the most elaborate, ornately decorated home that Savannah had ever seen. And the fact that it was in the middle of nowhere made it all the more confusing. Savannah was beginning to understand a little more clearly Jake's hostility toward this woman. He worked fourteen-hour days with almost no help just to keep the ranch operating, while Myrna had spent thousands of dollars on wall murals of fat-cheeked cherubs.

Savannah had tried to get out of the lunch date with Jake's stepmother, but after canceling twice using flimsy excuses, there was no avoiding it. Myrna had just completed a grand tour of the mansion, with all twenty-three rooms described in excruciating detail, then left Savannah and Emma in the parlor while she saw about lunch. Emma sat on the edge of the cream damask couch beside Savannah, swinging her feet and toying with the blue buttons on the front of her paisley jumper.

“Aunt Savannah, when can we go home?”

“Soon, sweetie. After we eat lunch.”

“I need to feed Betsy.” Emma's voice was close to a whine. Savannah didn't blame her. A whine seemed quite appropriate after an hour with Myrna.

The woman came through a pair of double doors at that moment, carrying a silver tray. She bent down in front of Emma and held the tray toward her. “Try a bite of the veal pâté, dear. It's really quite tasty.”

The child eyed the molded brownish concoction with serious misgivings, then glanced up at Savannah. “What's veal pâté?”

Savannah shifted uncomfortably. “It's, uh, well...”

Myrna set the tray down. “It's calf's liver, dear. It's very tender if the calf is young.”

“Calf's liver?” Emma stared at Myrna in horror. “You mean, like Betsy?”

Myrna frowned. “Betsy?”

Savannah straightened quickly. “Emma, would you please go get my purse? I left it on the table by the front door.”

Thankful for any excuse to escape, Emma jumped up. “Can I play with the fish in the fountain?”

“Just watch them.” Savannah breathed a sigh of relief as Emma left the room. That had been a little too close.

Myrna stared after the child, her brow furrowed. “I'm afraid I've never been around children very much. I was an only child and my mother left when I was ten. Daddy has always taken care of me, given me everything I've wanted. I can't help wondering what it would have been like if J.T. and I had...well, if we'd had a child.”

“Maybe we shouldn't have come,” Savannah said carefully and started to rise.

“No, no.” Myrna waved her back. “Please don't go. I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable, but I need to talk to you. About Emma's land.”

Savannah had wondered when she'd get around to the subject. “What about it?”

“I'm interested in buying it, and I'd like to know what your intentions are.”

Her only intentions at this moment were to get this lunch over with as soon as possible. “I haven't any.”

“Jake's executor of the estate, you know.” Myrna took a bite of the cracker. “He'll fight you if you decide to sell.”

A familiar pain tightened around Savannah's heart. She and Jake had barely spoken since that morning in the barn after the night they'd made love. That had been three days ago. Three long agonizing days. And nights. The nights had been even longer. In one weak desperate moment she'd even considered accepting his offer to live with him. The thought of living without him was unbearable.

But she couldn't. There was more to love than the physical. There was respect and honor and trust. Jake obviously felt none of those things for her, and she knew she'd certainly never respect herself if she gave in. And while self-respect might not keep her warm on a cold night, at least she'd be able to look at herself in the mirror every morning.

“As Emma's guardian, I believe I have the final say what happens to the land,” Savannah said firmly.

“But what if you weren't her guardian?” Myrna asked. “The Stone children can be very persuasive. A court might grant custody to a brother or sister over an aunt.”

She didn't believe they would do that. She
couldn't
believe it. Still, cold dread formed in the pit of her stomach. “There's been no indication they might do that,” Savannah said hesitantly.