Burning Wild (15 page)

In all her life she’d never felt so achy, so in need, and she could see why women threw themselves at Jake. It was a little humiliating to be among them, a woman wanting to beg for his attention. She lowered her gaze, not wanting him to see what was happening to her. Even her skin felt him, an electric tingle that sizzled across her nerve endings.

“Damn it, Emma, fucking answer me.”

Okay. Now she was really sick. His harsh demand only sent a surge of fire through the liquid heat. Her tight inner muscles convulsed. She took a deep breath and let it out, determined not to allow her acute sexual awareness of him to affect her. “Are you angry with me for something, Jake?” Her skin itched, and for a moment she swore something moved inside of her, unfurling and wild. Her clothes actually hurt, pressing against her sensitive skin. She ached to turn her face up to Jake’s and devour his mouth, to shred his clothes and feast on his body.

Emma’s throat closed and she shrank back against the counter, horrified at her thoughts. What was wrong with her? She’d never behaved like that. Never felt wanton and needy and desperate for sex. And with Jake? She’d never be able to live with herself afterward. After she became one of his discarded women. She’d have to leave Kyle. Take Andraya away from everything she knew. She had to get away from him.

In desperation, Emma lifted both hands and shoved hard at the wall of Jake’s chest.

6

JAKE trapped Emma’s hands against the wall of his chest and held her there. The hard push hadn’t even rocked him. “I’m not angry with you, honey. I’m sorry I’m acting like such a bastard. There’s no excuse.” And there wasn’t. Hell, she’d wanted to surprise him. She had surprised him. Not one other person in the world had thought to acknowledge his birthday. Only Emma. And he was snarling at her.

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. He did his best to look reassuring when he just wanted to kiss her again, this time making certain she felt the possession, so that she would know just whom she belonged to. Jake rubbed at his shadowed jaw, irritated by his thoughts. He’d put a lot of effort into his plan and Joshua wasn’t going to sneak in and take Emma out from under him when he wasn’t looking.

“Was it really bad out there?” Emma asked, trying to guess at the reason for his bad mood.

“We had to shift the entire herd until the men can get the fences back up and clear out the debris. I lost more than I’d first thought in that freak storm. Water backed up the canyon, causing a land shift.”

“I’m sorry.” She spoke quietly, sympathetically, picturing the dead and bloated cattle lying half buried in the mud.

He was watching her expressive face. “You’re too soft,” he drawled lazily, allowing her hands to slip away from his chest. His thumb slid over her skin, savoring the feel of her. “It’s a cattle ranch, honey. We’re going to have a few disasters.”

“So you keep telling me.” The tension in the room was slowly dissipating and Emma felt herself beginning to relax. Jake stepped away from her and she instantly felt the loss of his body heat, but it allowed her blood to cool and the terrible aching need to fade a bit. She took another deep breath, thankful she was regaining control.

Having a physical relationship with Jake would be total personal suicide. He didn’t keep women for long. He used them, let them use him, and then he discarded them. He wasn’t even nice about it, although she’d noticed most of the women kept coming back for more. She’d always felt sorry for his women as they called and left messages he never returned. She thought them a little sick to want such a twisted relationship, but here she was, her body melting into a pool of need at his feet. It was humiliating.

Just one time having sex with him and she would jeopardize the home she’d come to love. She would have to leave Kyle and take Andraya from Jake.

Jake legally adopted Andraya.
The thought leapt unbidden into her head.

The one thing she knew about Jake was that he made a bitter, relentless enemy. He used every means possible to destroy his enemies. If she left, would he try to take Andraya from her? Not only was it a possibility, it was a probability.

Jake sprawled in a chair, feet out in front of him, his gaze once again on her face. “Never play poker, Emma,” he advised. He kicked at a chair, spinning it around in invitation. “I’m not in the mood for cat-and-mouse games, so sit down for a minute and tell me what’s gotten you so upset.”

“Let’s leave it, Jake,” Emma suggested softly, not meeting his focused stare. He could unnerve anyone with that look. Why did he have to be so darned perceptive, noticing the slightest differences about her? He noticed everything about everyone, the tiniest details, and she needed time to think about things and come up with a plan just in case.

He reached out a long, powerful arm and gently tapped her cheek. “Not when it bothers you. You know I’m not going to let you get out of here until you tell me, so spill it.”

She rubbed the palm of her hand nervously along her jean-clad thigh. “I’ve been thinking about our situation.”

“Well, don’t,” he snapped abruptly, his rugged features hardening. His eyes glittered dangerously at her, daring her to continue the conversation.

Emma scowled at him, ignoring the chair and leaning back against the counter to regard him with troubled eyes. “I thought you wanted me to tell you what I was worried about. Just because you don’t like something doesn’t mean it just goes away.”

A brief flash of amusement slipped through his bad temper. “Sure it does. If I tell you to quit worrying about something, it’s because I have it handled.”

She rolled her eyes. “Really, Jake? Sometimes you make me want to be a twelve-year-old and stick my finger down my throat to gag myself. Do you honestly think you can order me not to worry and I’ll just stop?”

“Sure. Have you ever known me not to handle a problem, especially one you were worried about?” He shrugged his shoulders.

Emma planted her hands on the counter behind her and lifted herself up to sit. He did take care of any problem. Even if she mentioned it casually, he immediately fixed the least little thing. He did it so smoothly she often didn’t even notice. “This isn’t that kind of thing.”

“All right. Spit it out.”

Now that she had his attention, she wished she’d let him divert the conversation. She tried to choose each word carefully. “I’ve just been thinking about the future. I’ve been drifting along without any real plan. It’s so comfortable here and I’m not really looking forward to leaving.”

Something dangerous crossed his face and she paused. He had gone very still, his lids dropping so that he’d narrowed his gaze. His eyes had gone completely golden, slipping into the absolute, single-minded concentration that she found unnerving.

“Andraya and Kyle are as close as blood siblings. They love each other and they love both of us. If you found someone you wanted—”

“Emma, this is such bullshit. You aren’t going anywhere. And I’m not finding anyone else.” He waved his hand dismissively.

“We have to think about it. We do, Jake, whether you want to face it or not. The longer the children are together, the harder it’s going to be to break them up. The thought of losing Kyle is already more than I can bear.”

“You’re not losing him because you aren’t leaving. What the hell has Susan Hindman been saying to you that’s gotten you all upset?”

“It isn’t Susan, Jake. You’re legally Andraya’s father. I’m not Kyle’s mother. If something happened, I’d be the one to lose out, possibly on both of them.”

He was on his feet, tall, enormously strong, towering over her, looking suddenly ruthless and a little cruel. Temper was riding him hard. “Okay, now you’re just pissing me off on purpose. What the fuck does that mean, Emma? Tell me what you mean by that.”

She held out a hand to ward him off, but he kept coming, wedging his hips between her legs and catching both of her upper arms to give her a little shake. His fingers dug deep. His eyes looked like glittering jewels, hot and angry, his body giving off a blazing heat.

“You’re the one who’s always telling me to think about the future instead of the past. It’s not like we can stay here like this forever. And then what happens to me? Don’t pretend you wouldn’t demand your rights to visit with Andraya.”

Without visibly moving, his hand snaked out, hard fingers spanning her throat, allowing her to feel his immense strength. His thumb tipped her chin up so she was forced to look up at him. He was enormously strong, and it showed in his well-defined, rippling muscles and the powerful grip of his hands.

“You aren’t leaving me,” he growled very softly. His gaze dropped to her trembling mouth and he made an effort to soften his voice. “If you’re so damned worried about your rights, let’s get John here tonight, now, and have him draw up adoption papers. You never brought it up, so I just assumed you knew you were his mother and that was the end of it. But if you need the legality of a formal adoption, then just do it.”

“You still have the advantage, Jake. You know every judge.”

A muscle ticked along his jaw. For a moment her heart nearly stopped. He looked more like a leopard than a man, a predator about to leap on and devour prey.

“If you fucking want to get married, just say so and we’ll get it done along with the adoption. Whatever it takes to stop this bullshit about leaving. As my wife you’ll have the same playing field and I can pretty much guarantee that judges will like you better than they will me. And don’t give me crap about me finding someone else. If I was going to find someone, I would have already done it. For Christ’s sake, Emma.”

“Well, what if I find someone else?”

“How are you going to do that, locked in this house with two kids and still pining away for someone who’s never coming back? You don’t even look at men, Emma, so no, you’re sure as hell not going to find someone else.”

Fury swept through Emma, her temper rising up out of nowhere, something rare but lethal once she got going. She was tempted to slap his face, but it wasn’t her style. She reached behind her to keep her itching palms away from him and came in contact with the sprayer on the sink. Without thought she turned on the faucet and blasted him with cold water right in his arrogant, handsome face.

“Maybe you ought to stop being such a hothead, Jake.”

Emma released the trigger and dropped the sprayer in the sink, torn between horror at what she’d done, anger at his callous proposal and the implication that
she
might never find someone else, and laughter as water ran down his face over his shocked expression and dripped onto his very expensive soaked shirt.

There was complete silence. A heartbeat. Two. Hard hands seized her, swinging her smaller body over his shoulder as if she were a sack of potatoes. One hand came down hard on her wriggling butt, a stinging blow that made her yelp as he strode to the door and carried her outside down the long drive.

Heat flashed across her bottom and spread deep inside, the swat triggering a different memory, or maybe it had been an erotic dream, lying across his lap, his hand coming down hard and then rubbing sensually as he was doing now.

Her heart jumped. Where had that come from? Lately she’d been having dreams of Jake, dreams of things she’d never consciously thought about. Emma drummed at his broad back with her fists, fuming, embarrassed, not at being upside down but at the heat rising in her body and the blood surging so hotly.

Jake delivered a second smack, this time a little harder than the first, and once again rubbed at her bottom to take the sting away, sending fire shooting through her veins. “Stop it, Emma. You so deserve this and you know it.”

The deep growl of his voice sent an illicit thrill coursing through her bloodstream. She wished her jeans weren’t so tight or her panties so skimpy. She could feel his hand burning right through the thin material as he rubbed to ease the sting.

She caught a glimpse of Joshua’s startled face as Jake stalked past him. She looked around quickly, seeing the direction in which they were heading, and knew instantly what he intended. “Don’t you dare, Jake.” Emma caught at the back of his shirt with both fists, realizing what he planned. “I mean it. Don’t you dare.”

He kept walking at the same pace, with long, purposeful, ground-eating strides. Emma clutched him harder, trying desperately not to laugh at the ridiculous situation. She should have known Jake would retaliate. What ever had possessed her to spray him with the kitchen sprayer? She’d been too angry to think clearly, but it hadn’t occurred to her that Jake might ever do this. “Stop. Don’t do it.” She couldn’t help it that her voice turned to pleading. Or that laughter played around the edges. She’d always had the worst sense of humor.

Jake swung her from his shoulder, cradling her for a moment, then held her out from his body and dropped her unceremoniously into the large horse trough. She came up sputtering, splashing water ferociously at his face, laughing so hard she could barely stand.

Jake stood over the horse trough, water cascading over him as she used the flat of her hand to send a huge wave into the air. Time slowed down so that the droplets of water glistened like diamonds and the sun seemed to surround her head, turning her red hair into a bright halo of light and gleaming off her pearly teeth. Her laughter was infectious, melodic, irresistible, and he found himself laughing with her.
Laughing.
Deep inside, happiness blossomed and spread. He’d never thought much about being happy. Not like this—something simple. Something not revenge, or dark and ugly. Something not about making money. Just laughing at the absurdity of their argument.

He reached into the trough and hauled her out, swinging her easily to the ground, one arm locked around her waist, holding her wet body against his. The air was crisp and cold and she shivered, but her laughing face was turned up toward his and—God help him—he was tempted almost beyond all control. He was beginning to understand the story of Adam and Eve.

“You’re crazy, Emma. You know that?” His voice was gruff. Husky. He could hear the need almost as much as he felt the ache, not in his groin—although he was as hard as a rock—but in his chest. He actually pressed a hand over his heart. “Let’s get you back inside. I didn’t realize it was so cold out here.”