Breed True (12 page)

It was plain to see that he meant now. He carried the girls with him and sat down expectantly, waiting until she picked up her fork to eat before he sipped the hot drink.

"Where is it you're from? You don't speak like Texas women." His casual question didn't fool her. Jewel's survival instincts slammed into place. Where she came from might be where she returned after a year. Grady Hawks didn't need to know anything more about her than what he'd already learned.

"East of here," she answered vaguely, and he nodded as if she'd told him more.

She moved the food around on her plate, anxious to end the time alone and escape into the little bedroom with the girls. He held them on his lap in the crook of his arm where one girl leaned sleepily against the other and dozed.

"It's time to put them to bed," she said almost desperately. His eyes watched every one of her moves as though deciding his next.

"You finish the food on that plate while I see to it." He outmaneuvered her, leaving her alone at the table while he carried the now-sleeping twins to their cradle before the fire.

Abruptly she pushed the plate aside and stood. "I can't eat any more."

He met her as she crossed the room toward the fireplace and stopped her with a hand laid on each shoulder.

The kiss this time was different from the morning brush of lips. His mouth descended on hers before she could turn her head and rebuff him. Even early in Frank's courtship she'd been repulsed by the act of kissing. Frank's mouth had been wet, reminding her of a sloppy dog, and his breath had smelled of alcohol.

Grady Hawks' lips covered hers as he pulled her body closer. She shuddered and closed her eyes, avoiding the sight of the man who held her.
I need to do this.
She tried to school herself into submission, but the meal she'd just eaten churned in her stomach, making her nauseous.

"Open your eyes," he ordered her. When she blinked up into the dark face that hovered above hers, he explained softly, "I want you to know who's kissing you." This time when his mouth descended, the rough, dry caress was accompanied by the tip of his tongue lightly tracing the seam she held tightly closed.

When her lips remained shut, he shifted his hand to her chin, and she felt the brush of his rough thumb before he used it to tug on her lower lip. She clenched her teeth, but he caressed the soft inner lining of her mouth before his head blotted out the light, and his tongue touched where his thumb had been.

Jewel gasped and tried to back away, only to find that his other hand held the back of her head as he gained entrance. He tasted her, and by necessity, she him. Grady Hawks tasted like coffee.

He discovered her mouth, leisurely exploring her teeth, rubbing her tongue with his, and invading her in a way that brought alarm. He caught her bottom lip between his and sucked on it before he lifted his head and stared down at her.

He was a handsome man, with wide, powerful shoulders muscled from years of hard ranch work. Jewel knew she was no match for his strength and shivered at the threat he presented. Grady studied her face out of those gray eyes that didn't match his bronze skin and high cheekbones. "One more," he muttered and took her mouth again.

This time, she let him enter without resisting. The hand on her neck slid lower, pressing her back and forcing her breasts tightly against his chest. His scent—sage, coffee, and some indefinable spicy smell that was just him—filled her lungs before he released her and stepped back.

"I'll carry the babies to the bedroom for you." She recognized his aroused state and cringed at what would happen next. But once in the room she'd chosen for them, he tucked the girls into the narrow bed and left, saying, "Good night," as he closed the door.

*

It seemed to Grady later that he hadn't been in the presence of Julie more than a minute till he'd stopped thinking about breeding a child for Hawks Nest and become intent only on making love to his wife.

He knew he followed her with his eyes wherever she took up residence in the room.

He couldn't help himself; her exotic beauty wove a spell over him at the same time he admired the calm way she handled her bargain.

Every morning he kissed her and then spent all day thinking about the next stage of his courtship. Grady had started a slow seduction, begun with his first exploratory brush of lips across hers.

She didn't deny or accept his advances, but gradually, when she trembled in his arms, he didn't think it was from fear. Her mind resisted him, but her body responded to his touch—need answering need.

Each night, after Dan, Rowdy, and Navajo Leonard left following the evening meal, Grady tended the babies and sat at the table and watched Julie toy with the food on her plate to delay his determined courtship. He pushed her to eat a little more each time, and enjoyed the sight of pink lips closing over the fork and the way her throat worked when she swallowed.

The truth was he'd walked around with a perpetual hard-on since the day they'd been married. He wanted to ease her into the physical part of their bonding, but he could barely keep from taking her, resistant or not, when he touched her.

The memory of the taste of her made his voice gravelly with need for her again.

"Come over here."

This night the twins had already been sleeping by the time he'd finished his meal.

He'd interrupted her plans to flee with them into the cold bedroom by playing on her need to keep them safe.
She's a good mother.

The babies were healthy and happy, testimony to the sacrifices she'd made to keep them that way. Her lack of any meat on her bones was also. "Eat," he told her.

When she'd eaten more than she wanted, stalling as long as she could, he shoved his chair back from the table and held out his hand. She hesitated before she stood and walked to where he sat and waited for her.

She was trembling when he pulled her onto his lap. He couldn't wait another moment, and claimed her mouth, devouring her with his need.

His hand found its way under her skirt, and she jerked in alarm as it traveled up to her knee and then higher.

"Don't," she pulled her mouth from his and whispered a plea to delay him. But it was too late. His fingers were through the slit in her pantalettes and had already begun to stroke the silken hair on her mound.

She pressed her legs closed, trying to prevent his invasion, but he wouldn't let her deny him. He lifted his head from the kiss and nipped her ear. "Open your legs for me,"

he growled roughly.

Grady ignored her soft protest as she relaxed her stiff thighs. He thumbed the moisture that seeped from the seam of her cleft and then opened her folds to touch her inner flesh. Her cunnie wept for him, giving the lie to her indifference.

At the same time he took her mouth again, he slid one finger into her channel. When her muscles clenched around it, his cock throbbed with the need to be inside of her. "Put your arms around my neck," he ordered her.

He heard himself groan as he stroked his finger in and out of her tight, wet channel.

Her breath came in harsh gasps, as she struggled to fight her body's response to him, but when he brushed his thumb across her swollen clit, her hips thrust up to meet the stroke, and she shattered, her internal muscles gripping his finger and pulsing in release.

He could have taken her as she lay limp, recovering in his arms. Instead, he carried her into the bedroom where he stripped her of her dress and laid her in the bed. Then he left the room, returning with the cradle. She held her arms up, and he handed her first one baby and the other, and before she could turn away, he bent and took her mouth one more time.

"Good night." He managed to leave the room without pouncing on her in the bed, his cock so hard between his legs that walking was painful.

"Good night." Her soft answer following him to the door made his restraint almost bearable.

He told himself that he had the right to take what he'd paid land and water to get. But he waited anyway. He didn't want to put a baby in her belly until he knew that she'd stay with him and raise his son.

* * * *

Every day Jewel tried to build back her wall of resistance, and every night Grady Hawks proved her defenses against him weak. Her body turned to him, craving the feel of his touch as much as he seemed to need to explore her with his hands.

Why he remained alone in his bed without fully consummating the marriage was a mystery to her, but each evening he increased their intimacy and her protests helplessly fell before his will.

When he bent to brush his lips against hers each morning, she was swept by the heat that he'd kindled the night before. Every day she spent scrubbing the cabin and working fiercely to deny the feelings he aroused before he left.

The men who accompanied him into the cabin each night for supper received the brunt of her pent-up emotions. They didn't disrespect her, they ignored her. In itself, that was not a bad thing. But it piqued her sense of pride that the men ate the food she knew was well prepared without so much as a
Thank you
, or
That was good.

She focused on righting that wrong, since she had no control over the man who challenged her determination to remain aloof.

Grady had carried a bushel of fall apples into the house the night before. Jewel spent all day peeling fruit for dessert that when baked, filled the cabin with the aroma of apples, cinnamon, and sugar.

As usual, the men filed in, following Grady to the table where the meal waited for them. All the men, including her husband, sniffed the air, looking for the source of the delicious scent. When nothing was apparent, they sat down and quickly made their way through the potatoes, carrots, and beef roast she'd prepared. They remained silent, waiting for her to leave. When she didn't, the men remained mute, even after they'd emptied all the dishes and platters and consumed the last of her homemade bread.

Jewel had strategized her protest and instead of leaving as usual so that the men could speak openly, she asked, "Do you men like apple cobbler?" She set the hot apple confection on the table as she asked. As usual, her words were ignored as if she had not spoken. Grady Hawks watched her with interest this time, just as he had at every meal she battled wills with them.

"Guess you fellows don't like apple cobbler." She whisked it off the table after her initial question remained unanswered. Rowdy, knife in hand, was in the process of reaching for the dessert and howled. "Hell, yes, I like apple cobbler. I like apple pie too.

Ain't much made with apples I don't like."

She cut a big slice of the hot cobbler and put it steaming on his plate. Then she carried the rest to the sideboard and set it down, standing guard over it so that it wasn't disturbed.

Grady Hawks rose from his chair and walked to where she stood barring the way to her cobbler as she dared the men to trespass and risk injury.

"I like apple cobbler too, Julie. Would you cut a piece for me?" Suddenly in front of the ranch hands who watched silently, now more interested in their exchange than in dessert, she blushed.

It was incomprehensible how the gravelly pitched question could bring a flood of color to her face, but nevertheless, it happened. Heat scorched through her body, leaving her vulnerable and breathless with the memory of his touch the night before.

His eyes became half-slits, heavy with desire, as his gaze boldly caressed her, promising more intimate explorations after the men left them alone.

She'd gotten what she wanted—their attention. But the trembling anticipation that filled her as a result wasn't the victory she'd planned.

"Here," she picked up the hot plate without a potholder and thrust it toward him, burning her hand in the process. "You serve dessert. I've got better things to do."

Before she could back away and hurry to her outdoor sanctuary, Grady caught her hand and raised it to his lips. He stepped closer, hiding his act from the other men as he opened his mouth and sucked on her burned fingers.

Red streaked across his high cheekbones, announcing his arousal as loudly as if he'd shouted it. Her breasts ached as her nipples distended and brushed the rough fabric of her dress.

She could feel his tongue, a velvet caress against the burned fingers inside the hot cavern of his mouth.

"Thank you, Julie." His voice was unsteady when he finally let her go. She hurried outside, breathlessly fleeing her tormentor.

Chapter Ten

Aggravating as the man was, Julie reminded herself that the cabin was a safe haven for her girls. The winter outside was cold, and when she remembered the paper-thin shack where she'd been living, she'd tried to find ways to make herself both useful and invisible.

Sometimes, when her work for the day was complete, she'd draw a deck of cards from her pocket and play a hand of solitaire. It relaxed her to stack the four suits in order, arranging them thoughtfully as she contemplated the next move in her life.

East or west, Virginia or California—
she'd lay the cards out in a line of twelve, and turn each face card over to represent the months still to be endured until she could leave with the girls.

She needed the cards now to point her direction.
East or west, Virginia or…
She groaned aloud. Instead of California, a picture of Grady Hawks' flushed cheekbones inserted itself into her thoughts. He was a devil trying to steal her life, and she didn't know how to stop him.

As she paced along the edge of the clearing, trying to gain back her composure, why she had chosen to confront the men and bring even more attention to herself was a mystery. Grady Hawks was intent on bending her to his will. She knew that, even as she recognized his weapon as seduction. Reluctantly, driven by cold and the need to tend her daughters, she returned to the cabin when the rest of the men left.

Grady Hawks sat in his chair, cleaning the knife that had killed Frank and cut her hair. When she closed the door, he laid the sharp blade on the table, beside his rifle and side arms, and said, "Come here. I've been waiting for you."