Controlled Burn (4 page)

“Yes, sir.”

He glanced sideways. She wasn’t being a smart-ass. Much. “Guess I should have said please.”

“If you wanted me to believe you’re polite…” she said, nodding, a twinkle of humor in her eyes.

Feeling strangely light-hearted, he pressed the accelerator and headed away from the house. The sun was high overhead, and the dry air was heating up. In another month, the temperatures would be unrelenting. But for now, and for the prescribed burn, the sunny sky was no threat.

They traveled a gravel ranch road until they came to a gate. Before he could jump out, he saw Carly slide from her seat and unlatch the gate, letting it swing wide and waving him inside. He drove through and waited for her to climb back inside. “I could have managed that.”

“Why should you? Today, I’m one of the hands.”

The words were on the tip of his tongue to tell her she was his guest. That he’d wanted her company, but he still wasn’t sure about her. Didn’t quite trust his own judgment concerning her character—his attraction could be clouding his mind. Instead, he gave her a nod and off they went. He followed the curving bluff at the edge of the canyon to a point just above the herd and idled the engine.

“How many head of cattle do you have down there,” she asked, staring out at the plain below them.

“We have them split right now. That group’s only about four hundred.”

“Only?” She sniffed.

“Yeah, their scent carries.”

She coughed. “It’s not bad. Kind of like horse manure isn’t that bad when you get used it. It’s just the dust,” she said, her eyes blinking.

“In the summer when the ground’s bone dry, you can see the dust before you see the cattle.”

“Has to be hard trying to feed them all.”

“The grass is green now, but we have to rotate them, drive them from one side of the ranch to the other. If there’s any rain, we don’t have to buy too much hay.”

“You lost three hundred acres of hay when that fire jumped the rim,” she said softly, her gaze sliding away toward the herd.”

“I won’t lie. That year was tough. I had to borrow heavy to keep the herd fed. Had to sell more than I was comfortable selling and at a rock-bottom price. The fire nearly ruined me, Carly. But it also gave me a purpose.”

At her surprised glance, he gave her a tight smile. “My father had just died, and I’d inherited the ranch. The fire offered me a challenge. Something to overcome. Kept my mind off how much I missed him, because I was scrambling to survive.”

Her head dropped. “I’m really sorry, Jeremiah. For your daddy, for what I caused.” She turned to meet his gaze. “What happened was…stupid. The dumbest thing I’ve ever done. I knew I’d hurt you, but I had no idea how bad things were.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t tell you that to make you feel bad, Carly. I know you learned a hard lesson, but I wanted you to know that I’m fine. That you didn’t cause me any lasting damage. I don’t want my pound of flesh.” He lowered his voice. “Not anymore.”

“Why? You were still pretty mad yesterday.”

“Seeing you again made the memories fresh. When I saw you lift your chin, like you were ready for a fight, I reacted harshly. I wanted to bring you out here today so I could apologize.”

If she looked surprised, he was no less. He hadn’t been thinking when he’d invited her to come, but now that he’d said the words, they felt right. He lifted his hand and held it out. “Can we start over, Carly Lohan?”

She eyed his hand, and for once, her expression didn’t hold an ounce of wary defiance. Her gaze was steady, a deep wet gray. “I’d like that,” she said, her voice sounding a little hoarse.

When their palms met, he felt an arc of heat bolt through him. An electric rush of deep desire. With a quick intake of air, he realized he wanted her—in his bed, beneath him. The depth of his need to make love to Carly Lohan nearly sucked the breath from his lungs. And by the way her cheeks flooded with color and her pupils dilated, maybe she wanted him, too.

He released her hand and faced forward, the shock leaving him a little unsettled. “Let’s check the rim. I instructed a couple of the hands to plow up dirt for fire breaks—just as a precaution. I’d like to see if they’re done.”

With the engine humming loudly, he didn’t have to talk. And he kept his gaze straight ahead, aware from the corner of his eye that she was staring. He began to warm. His groin throbbed. Damn, he hadn’t shown this little control over his libido since he was a teenager. He’d certainly never felt this level of anticipation—not even before he’d bedded his ex-wife Melanie for the first time.

Carly was more exciting. Her fierce temper matched his. As did her stubborn pride. They both tended to say things that sliced through flesh. Perhaps they flayed each other, not out of hatred or old hurts, but because they were both fighting their attraction.

Made sense. Question was, did she know why she was so sensitive around him, so ready to take offense?

They reached the outer fence that ran just inside the canyon rim. Beyond it stretched Caldera Canyon. He cut the engine, reached for water bottles, and stepped out of the mule, leaning his butt against the vehicle as he stared over the deep gash cut into the plain by the river at its rocky bottom.

Carly leaned beside him. He handed her a bottle, and she twisted off the lid and took a deep draw.

When she lowered the bottle, she glared. “What? You’re staring. Did it dribble down my chin?” A hand swiped up her neck.

“You know it didn’t.” Because he was still feeling off-kilter about his attraction, he turned away.

She cleared her throat. “It’s beautiful, this view.”

“You should see it when the wildflowers bloom. Looks like a blue-and-red carpet down there.

“Bluebonnets, paintbrush.” A faint smile curved her mouth. “I’ve seen it from down there, but I can only imagine what it’s like from up high.” She turned her face toward him. “The burn won’t hurt the wildflowers?”

“No, they’ll be back. Probably prettier.”

She glanced over her shoulder at the tall grass. “This where the fire leapt out of the canyon?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s strange. When I think of this place, I imagine it should be somehow…scarred.”

“It’s not. If anything, the hay’s been richer ever since.”

“I’m glad I didn’t do permanent damage.”

Jeremiah stared down at his water bottle. “I was serious before.”

She stayed still, staring at the plain. “About?”

“The fact I’m over being mad, Carly.”

Her shoulder slid against his as she turned. “Guess I’m over being a bitch.” Her mouth quirked at one side.

He grunted.

“Wish you wouldn’t do that,” she whispered.

“What?”’

“Make that noise.”

“Why?”

She shrugged, but her wide gaze remained locked with his.

He studied her face. Saw the same awakening yearning he was feeling. “Come here,” he said, trying not to sound too gruff, but his voice was tightening right along with the rest of his body.

She moved closer, her arms at her sides, her gaze dropping to his mouth, and he knew she wanted this moment too. He gripped her upper arms, trying to be gentle, and slid his thumbs up and down her shirtsleeves, wishing he touched bare skin.

Her hands came up, her fingers gripped his belt at his sides, and then she slid her chest against his as she rose slowly on tiptoe.

Jeremiah’s breath hitched, and he bent his head. With only an inch between their mouths, he stared at her lovely face. The moment felt bigger than it probably was. But he’d never been this hungry for a kiss. With a soft curse, he lowered again and kissed her.

‡

C
arly didn’t let
herself think what that soft
dammit
had meant. Jeremiah’s hands were locking around her arms and drawing her closer. His mouth was busy roaming hers, moving in circles that drew her deeper and deeper into lust for the man.

Her thumbs slipped behind his belt and stroked his hips through his shirt. Her nipples tingled as they hardened against his chest. And there, between her legs, her pussy grew moist.

His hands slid from her arms to behind her back, and he held her closer, one hand pressing on her ass to force her against his erection, the other rising to cradle the back of her head. When he lifted his mouth, he stared down at her, ripening the tension between them.

Because she didn’t know what to say, was half-afraid any words would jolt him back to reality and remind him just who he held, she let her eyelids drift lazily downward, signaling her surrender.

“Tell me to stop,” he said, then pressed a kiss against her cheek.

“Too much effort,” she said, her mouth curving into a ghost of a smile.

“Anyone with binoculars might see us.” He nibbled at her earlobe, his harshening breaths gusting.

She flattened her hands and slid them up his back. “Then take me somewhere a little more private, but not too far.”
How long can I wait for this?

He rested his forehead against her for a second, and then lifted it. He set her away from him. “Get back in the mule.”

She didn’t mind he’d given her yet another terse command. The truth was she liked the sharp edges of his voice. Biting back a grin, she circled the vehicle, climbed into the seat, then held on as he hit the gas.

They left the gravel road and went cross-country, heading to another dip in the landscape, this one a tree-lined stream. He parked then reached into the tool box on the back of the vehicle, pulling out a blanket.

“Awfully convenient,” she drawled.

“I keep it in case I want to eat beside the river.” A shoulder lifted in a shrug. “I like coming here.”

He’d brought her someplace he loved. She smiled. “I wasn’t complaining.”

“Get out,” he said, then gave her a sexy, narrowed glare.

Laughing, she climbed out and sauntered toward the stream.

Behind her, his boots crunched in the dirt, coming fast, but she didn’t hurry, waiting and then gasping when he came beside her and swept her off her feet.

She settled an arm around his shoulder and didn’t bother looking around. She watched his taut features, admired the breadth of his chest, the strength in his arms.

When he reached the stream, he set her on her feet and stood back, shaking out the blanket.

She reached out and helped him lay it on the ground. Then she stood and toed off her boots, unbuttoned her blouse, and slid it off her arms.

He stood watching, not moving, his darkening eyes skimming every inch she exposed. So encouraged, she continued, unbuttoning her jeans and pushing them down her legs. In her underwear now, she held her breath, knowing she wasn’t very curvy. That her lean frame didn’t appeal to some men, but the color that crept across his cheeks and the hard glitter of his eyes as he glanced down to her panties was gratifying.

She reached behind her and unsnapped her bra, then slid it off her arms. Next, she slipped her thumbs beneath the elastic at her hips.

But he shook his head. “Stop.”

She held still while he stripped off his boots and shirt. When she saw him pause and not go any further, she deliberately eyed his Wranglers. “Hardly seems fair.”

“Carly, I don’t want it over before it even begins.”

Her gaze dropped to the hard ridge riding one thigh. “Not too snug in there?”

“Snug enough. You,” he said, pointing toward her. “Here.” He jabbed the finger toward the center of the blanket.

Goose bumps rolled over her skin, and she stepped barefoot into the middle.

Jeremiah walked to her, reached out, again gripping her upper arms as he raked her nearly nude body with a hot glance. “You’re beautiful.”

His gravely rasp had her believing him. Deep inside, she relaxed. “Thank you,” she whispered.

His gaze darted upward, and a frown furrowed his brow. “You don’t think you’re beautiful?”

She shrugged. “Like you said last night. I’m skinny.”

“I was wrong. You’re…” he shook his head, “slender.” He glided a palm over her hips. “Maybe I’m a little scared about how slender you are, but I’m not petting bones here.” He gripped her ass.

“Why would you be scared?”

“Because I’ll have to be gentle.”

Carly shook her head. “No, you don’t. I’m not fragile. If I’m…slender…it’s because I work hard. I’m strong, Jeremiah.” She lifted a hand toward his face. “You’ll see.”

A muscle rippled at the side of his jaw. His eyelids dipped. “Don’t touch me.”

And because she’d been worried about what she’d do if ever she found herself in this position, that out of fear she’d show him just how ignorant she was, she held still. Happy in fact to do that.

Slowly, his hands smoothed up and down her arms, and then he went to one knee and caressed her shoulders, her breasts.

Savoring his touch, she closed her eyes and fought for breath as he kneaded her as though her small barely-there mounds were something precious. His fingertips circled her nipples, and when she was drugged with the soothing pleasure, he pinched the tips.

She blinked open her eyes to find him studying her face, and when he pinched her again, she let him see just how much she liked it—her mouth rounding and her chest lifting on a quiet gasp. But the stimulation was too much. She cupped the backs of his hands and pushed them downward, over her ribs, to her hips.