The Cattleman's Unsuitable Wife Page 15
When he was stark naked.
She quickly averted her gaze before he turned and caught her staring. She set aside her cup and busied herself adjusting her blanket, keeping herself cocooned within its folds while she changed from a sitting position to a reclining one, no easy task for sure.
But she managed, thank goodness, and before he returned. He’d made a small bed by spreading a long, rubber-backed tarp over pine needles and grass, and she shifted to her side near the very edge, facing the fire, and closed her eyes.
Yet every sense tuned into him. The rustle of denim being shook out and hung over the rope line. The faint crunch of grass from quick strides across the camp to join her here, next to the fire. She didn’t need to see him to know when he halted, then knelt behind her.
“Going to have to split that blanket with me, Zurina,” he said. “It’s the only one we have. There’s room enough for both of us, and it’ll be warmer, besides.”
Her eyes flew open. “You don’t have another one for yourself?”
“On a pack horse I do, back with the posse. I wasn’t planning on sharing my bedroll with anyone when we parted ways this afternoon. Now hurry, sweet. It’s cold.”
She bit her lip. Any red-blooded woman would see herself at a distinct disadvantage under the circumstances.
Sleeping naked with Trey Wells.
“C’mon, Zurina.” He tugged on one edge of her very warm, very safe cocoon.
She didn’t budge. Oh God, she couldn’t. She couldn’t very well keep the blanket all to herself, either, but really, she couldn’t…
One side of the cocoon jerked open, hard enough to jostle her and let in a draft of cold air against her backside. But like a window, once he settled in, the chill disappeared.
Delicious warmth returned.
Zurina kept on her side and lay very still. She expected him to touch her.
Feared it.
Wanted it.
She held her breath and waited….
The blanket rustled again. A moment passed. Zurina envisioned him propped up on his elbow, watching her.
But not touching her.
“Are you afraid of being with me like this?” he asked in his low voice.
Lifting her head, she darted him a cautious glance over her shoulder. “I’m a little nervous, yes.”
“Don’t be.”
“It is—” she searched for the right word “—risky.”
“Risky.”
To her surprise, he broke into a chuckle, a deep-throated sound she’d not heard from him before, but one she found very pleasant. Considering.
“For you? Or for me?” he asked.
Her brow shot up. “For me, of course.”
“Because I’m one of those cattlemen you despise so much?”
“Because I’m only a woman—”
She halted.
A woman who won’t be able to resist you if you try to seduce me.
As if he read the words spilling through her mind, his amusement faded.
“I’ve yet to force my attentions on a woman who didn’t want them, Zurina. Including you. You should know that about me by now.”
He sounded offended she might’ve thought otherwise, and bemused, she eased onto her back.
How different he was from his father, Sutton Wells. Mama had suffered greatly from the force of his “attentions.”
Yet Trey need only recall how Zurina had melted in his arms from the power of his kisses. He made her forget who he was, what his father had done, and turned her mindless of any contempt she’d ever felt for him.
Instead she’d grown to think of him—and want him—in a far different way.
As if she’d fallen in love with him.
Was it possible?
“What makes you think Mikolas will be at Rogers Pass?” Trey asked suddenly.
The inevitable confrontation with her brother laid heavily on his mind, for he asked the question in all seriousness. Perhaps he chose to distract her from her misgivings, or merely wanted to make her feel at ease with her nakedness—and his.
She allowed herself the distraction. It was far easier to talk about her brother than wrestle with her own tortuous thoughts.
“I’m not sure if he’ll be there,” she said quietly. “But I’m hoping, very much.”
“Hell of a lot of country out here,” he said. “Why the pass?”
Zurina tumbled through memories she’d long repressed. She understood Trey’s need to arm himself with as much information as possible. She knew all he had at stake.
But, oh, it hurt to think of the nightmare again.
“There is something to tell you. Something no one besides my family knows,” she said so softly, her voice was almost a whisper.
“Go on,” he urged, his expression darkly serious. “I’ll honor your confidence.”
She pressed her fingers to her lips, but pulled them away again to let the words out, the explanation he wanted to hear.
“When I was twelve, Papa herded a band of sheep not far from here. Gorri wasn’t much more than a pup, but he was already a fine sheepdog. He ran after several lambs that had gotten separated from their mothers. Wanting to help, I followed him, but he was too fast for me, and I got lost.”
Trey grunted in commiseration and waited for her to continue.
“A fur trapper found me. Or maybe he was an outlaw on the run. I never knew for sure. He took me to his cabin, and—and tied me to his filthy bed.”
In her darkest memories, Zurina could smell his fetid breath, see his whiskey-reddened eyes, his wild, tangled hair. But mostly, she would never forget the heaviness of his groping hands on her young, maturing body….
“God, Zurina.” Trey smoothed the wisps against her temple, and she angled her face toward him, craving his strength even now, after all these years.
“It seemed like forever, but Mikolas finally found me in that tiny cabin hidden in the woods. Gorri helped, and when the man caught us trying to escape, Mikolas shot him with Papa’s rifle.”
The same old rifle still in its scabbard and lying within easy reach of their bedroll.
Trey studied her with his brows furrowed. Her story held him fast in the telling.
Her mouth quirked in rueful dismay. “If that weren’t enough, while we were running from the cabin, trying to get back to Papa and the others, we startled a big grizzly bear. He charged, and Mikolas shot him again and again, until the bear dropped.”
“Hell.”
Trey looked so appalled, she couldn’t help reaching out and touching his cheek. A gesture intended to reassure him. And a plea that he would understand.
“He saved my life twice that day, Trey,” she said. “He’s not as heartless as you think.”
Trey turned his face and pressed a lingering kiss into her wrist.
“I want to believe he’s a good man, for your sake,” he said. “But the cold, hard truth is in that ransom note he sent us.”
The feel of his lips so tender against her skin softened the harshness of his claim. Every word, he meant.
“Yes, I know,” she said on a troubled sigh. Her fingertips trailed along his cheek toward the corner of his chin. And stayed there, imploring him to believe her. “He has good reasons for being with Woodrow and for keeping Allethaire. I don’t know what they are, but we must trust him in that.”
Trey made a sound of disgust and would’ve pulled away, except Zurina cupped his face with both her hands, keeping him close to her, a boldness she hardly realized in her need to keep him listening.
Trey Wells was a powerful man, bent on revenge. A man capable of protecting those he held dear, at the cost of those he didn’t. The time had not yet come to tell him the truth about Mikolas. Trey wasn’t ready. Not when he wore his animosity like a thorny badge.
It was more important to teach him about the good in Mikolas first. The Mikolas Zurina had always known.
“Please, Trey,” she said quietly. “Do not judge him until you see for yourself the
kind of man he is. Until he gives us the answers we need.”
The flames cast Trey’s features in a muted golden light, but the copper glints in his eyes darkened to tarnished bronze, revealing the inward battle he waged. He was silent so long, she feared she’d lost the fight.
Her thumb stroked the strong line of his chin. “Will you do this for me, Trey?”
Slowly, finally, he nodded. “Yes.” His hand moved to curl behind her neck. “But only for you, Zurina.”
His head lowered, and her breath hitched with instant anticipation of what he intended to do. The kisses he intended to give. He wouldn’t stop at one, her womanly heart told her. Or even two, and with crystal, blood-stirring clarity, she realized she didn’t want him to stop.
Maybe never, and not anymore. Because now Mikolas didn’t matter. Or Woodrow. Or Allethaire. Nothing mattered but this desire, this crazy, incessant need which had been building between them.
Demanding satisfaction.
Trey’s mouth captured hers with a sudden fierceness that fueled the fire in her blood. His long fingers splayed into her hair and lifted her head to keep her mouth hard against his. He kissed her long, deep, so deep she could barely breathe. Could barely think of anything but this man who’d wound his way into her heart and consumed her soul.
His tongue penetrated her lips with sure, masterful strokes. A deft seduction of her senses which turned his breathing ragged and left Zurina aching for more.
So much more.
Trey’s seduction of her mouth ended with rasping kisses dragged over her cheek, her jaw, the sensitive skin along her throat and around her ear. He licked. And nibbled. He whispered her name again and again.
She was drowning. Flying. Somersaulting toward exhilaration. He tore away her inhibitions, turned her slave to his pleasure. To her own. No longer were they divided by the boundaries of cattleman and sheepwoman, but instead, simply man and woman, with a blinding, intoxicating passion for one another.
His hand found her breast, and he cupped the mound in his broad palm. Flexed and fondled, both gentle and rough, giving and taking.
The desire climbed, swelled into her veins, yet he pulled her still higher with the exquisite rub of his thumb over her nipple.
No man had ever touched her like this, with such mastery, with such intent to give pleasure and take it, too. He pulled down the blanket with a low-throated groan and bent his head to her breast, took a nipple into his mouth with a strong, glorious suckle, and her back arched with a gasp. The sensation was almost too much to bear when he repeated his seduction on the other, yet her fingers speared into his hair, holding him to her. If only he could make her feel like this forever, but no, she would surely die. Surely die…
Moisture pooled between her legs, in her most intimate femininity, and her hips turned into him with a primitive plea to end the delicious agony.
“Zurina, my sweet,” he murmured and reached between them, lifted her thigh and brought it up over his hip. She never thought to deny him what he sought, not when she wanted utter completeness with him, only him…
The hot velvet of his shaft pressed against the moist folds of her cleft, seeking his place inside her. He was prepared to take what he wanted, what they both needed, but a desire to touch him first, to discover the beauty of his masculinity, suddenly coursed through her.
Never had she known such boldness, but she knew it now. She reveled in the freedom to hold him without shame or embarrassment.
Her fingers closed around his pulsing erection, fondled and caressed and savored, and he hissed in a hard breath. God, but he was well-hung, and oh, the feel of his ballocks, turgid with a sprinkling of crisp, dark hairs—
Trey cursed and pushed her onto her back. He rose above her with his expression shadowed, but his eyes glittering from arousal.
“I’m going to take you, Zurina. I can’t much stop myself. I want to crawl inside you and into your skin and become a part of you right now.”
His wide shoulders carried a sheen of sweat. The blanket had slipped from them both, but she felt no chill from the night and its mountain air. No shame from their nakedness. It was right to be with him like this, on the brink of a sublime and perfect joining.
So very right.
Yet for a moment he didn’t move. Just held himself above her, his breathing rough and his control precarious.
Time, she realized. He gave her time to stop him and end the loving. To save herself from what he was about to do.
How could he not know how much she wanted him? That her need ran like wildfire through her blood, just like his?
“Come into me, Trey.”
Her knees fell open. Her legs lifted to curl around his waist. She slid her hands up his lean belly, over his ribs, glided onto his coin-shaped nipples, dark as coffee in the flames’ light, and up to his hard-muscled shoulders. Bulging, quivering, with restraint.
“Come into me,” she begged.
“Zurina,” he breathed. “Zurina, Zurina.”
She sensed the exact moment his honor gave way to lusty greed. He clasped her hips and lifted her into position in front of him, finding her female folds with the tip of his shaft. He thrust into her slickness, and she gasped at the sensation, at how her soft, tight flesh opened to accommodate him.
Oh God, he filled her. Filled her so full, so deep, she feared he’d wrench her apart.
But a sweeter agony she’d never known. A sweeter ecstasy she’d never craved.
Her breathing turned into ragged little gasps; he thrust again and then again, finding his place inside her, claiming her with a fierce possessiveness she would forever hold, deep in her heart.
Like a coil, white-hot from the fire, the tension built inside her with his every thrust. Built and built, until she could go no higher, until the coil snapped, and she fell into a river of glorious, mind-spinning sensation.
Trey threw back his head with a guttural roar. With one final, earth-shattering thrust, he spilled his seed inside her. And afterward, in slow motion, completely spent, he collapsed on top of her.
Chapter Fourteen
“T ell that damn woolly to shut up, Zurina.”
Trey’s mumble dragged her out of the depths of luscious slumber. His breathing stirred her hair, and his big body molded to her backside. Like they were a pair of spoons in a silverware chest.
Persistent bleating intruded into her languor, and then, Zurina understood. Her mouth softened. She supposed Trey was entitled to complain. He was a cattleman, after all.
“She’s telling us she’s happy this morning,” Zurina murmured patiently, not bothering to open her eyes. “She feels safe and isn’t afraid like she was last night.”
The fire crackled and spit and shed a blanket of heat around them, which meant Trey had gotten up not long ago, added more wood and stirred the embers. She didn’t have to open her eyes to know the sun had crept over the horizon, either. Or envision how she laid in Trey’s arms, with his fist relaxed near her chin.
She didn’t want to wake up at all. She wanted to lie like this forever.
“Are you happy, Zurina?” he asked, his tone husky.
He nuzzled her hair, cupped her breast and helped himself to a leisurely fondle, reminding her of how they’d made love again last night, and how well he’d come to know her body.
Like a husband.
Every intimate inch.
Sighing her contentment, she rolled over to face him and slid her arms around his neck. She marveled at how familiar she’d become with him. How easy it was to snuggle up to him like this.
“Very,” she admitted.
He emitted a male-cat growl, clearly satisfied with her response and taking full responsibility for it. He pressed a hand to the small of her back and pulled her even closer, then took her mouth for a long, languid kiss. The thickening of his shaft against her thigh proved fair warning his ardor was gathering steam again, and she would soon feel the heat of it.
But unexpectedly, he ended the kiss and e
ased back.
“I can hardly think with all that noise she’s making,” he muttered.
“So don’t think. Only feel.”
Zurina tugged him down to kiss her again. She drew his lower lip between her teeth and nibbled, took her time in tracing his upper lip with her tongue, and engaged him in some playful and very wet, very arousing, mouth games—until even she had to admit the ewe’s constant baa-ing was an unwelcome distraction.
Zurina drew away with a frustrated pout. “Maybe she doesn’t want to be hobbled anymore.”
“Damned if I know what her problem is.” His scowl showed him just as frustrated. “You’re the sheep expert. Not me.”
Zurina sighed and smoothed the hair from his forehead. She loved the feel of his hair, thick and cool and soft.
“I’m sorry,” she said, feeling almost guilty for rescuing the poor woolly from the creek. “We should let her go.”
“Good idea.”
Yet he didn’t move. They both knew when he did, a change would creep between them, stealthy and sure. Like a gossamer veil, hiding all they shared during the night, but not quite taking it away.
They had so little time left to meet the terms of the ransom note. Only hours to get dressed and ride up to Rogers Pass. If Mikolas wasn’t there with Woodrow and Allethaire, well, it’d be a fast ride down again to rendezvous at Wolf Creek.
Then, all hell would break loose.
The ugliness would begin.
How she wished she could turn back time and relive all the glorious moments with Trey again! Shut out the world with its secrets and betrayals and make love with him again and again. Live love with him. For the rest of their lives.
She couldn’t, of course. And she was a fool to let her foolish longings deter her from the reality of what laid ahead.
Trey flung back his side of the blanket. “It’s late. I’ll brew up some coffee and help you find the clothes you left on the bank.”
He tucked the wool covering closer around her, rose and swiftly strode on the balls of his feet over the dew-damp grass, grabbing his socks and boots on the way to the rope line. Her gaze clung to his tall, muscular body in all its naked, masculine magnificence.