Forget Me Not (28 page)

Read Forget Me Not Online

Authors: Stef Ann Holm

BOOK: Forget Me Not
10.6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

J.D. managed to temper his anger, but the emotions inside him were thunderous.

“See anything interesting?” J.D.'s tongue was thick with sarcasm.

Rio jumped back and swung around, his fine wet hair clinging to the side of his face. “N-no, boss.”

“Looks to me like there's something, or someone, you were watching.” J.D. moved forward.

Backing away, Rio dove his hands into his pockets and took on a casual stance. “Nothing worth your time. I was thinking to go back to the wagon for some . . .”

The rustle of thick grass sounded behind J.D. as
Rio's voice faded, and when J.D. turned around the wrangler was gone.

J.D. should have moved on, too, knowing full well who Rio had been looking at. But his gaze fell back on the spindly birches. A slice of frilly white, a hint of creamy skin, and a cloud of cinnamon-colored hair took shape through the leaves, and J.D. couldn't help but stay a minute and see for himself what Rio had been so entranced over.

Josephine hugged her knees while she sat on a boulder in her shift and bloomers, with her long curly hair unbound and half dried by the sun. She might as well have been wearing nothing as much as the damp underclothing concealed her shape. Sheer as the fabric had gotten from being wet, it molded itself against her generous breasts, the side of her nipped waist, and the flare of her hip. His view was of the profile her body made with the early-afternoon sunlight glistening across her droplet-kissed skin.

He'd never looked at her in the broad daylight with so much of her to see. She was well defined in all the right areas. His mind relived the kiss they'd shared. The way she'd felt in his arms, the press of her breasts against his chest.

At the thought, he couldn't disguise his body's reaction to her, and he was glad she couldn't see him.

Rather than allowing his gaze to linger over her, he moved it elsewhere. He needed a minute to get his control back, and visions of her bare arms, the cascade of her hair, and the cling of her chemise across her breasts weren't going to help him.

A corset lay out in the sun to dry, along with both sets of clothes he'd given her. She had her valise open on the shore, an unfamiliar calico skirt spilling over the edge.

The grass behind him crackled again, and J.D. cursed himself for staying so long. His mind whirled with explanations to hand over to whoever had caught him nosing around.

Just as he turned, Toby barked while wagging his tail.

“Toby,” J.D. rushed in a low voice. “Quiet.”

Another bark was J.D.'s reply.

“Who's there?” came Josephine's distressed cry.

J.D. swore and debated walking off and not answering her. But Toby trotted through the birch—leaving enough of a wake to expose J.D.—reached the valise, and began to sniff at the contents.

Clasping her arms tightly around herself, Josephine widened her eyes when she saw him. “What do you think you're doing?” She made an attempt to tuck her feet closer to her body but ended up sliding down the slippery rock.

J.D. never had the chance to answer. The current pulled her under.

C
HAPTER
15

W
ater gushed into Josephine's mouth as she frantically clawed her way to the surface, gasping and sputtering for air to fill her lungs. She was able to steal a gulp before being sucked toward the bottom again. Smooth rocks beat against her bare feet; her legs had gone numb from the icy cold. Heavy rushing sounds filled her ears, and her nose stung.

She felt as if a hand had closed around her throat and squeezed her in its death grip. She couldn't breathe. And though her eyes were open, she couldn't see. A knot had formed within her stomach, begging for release, but she couldn't free herself from its tight confines.

She lost the ability to judge time and motion rationally. The minutes became endless and indiscernible, her journey down the river immeasurable. She didn't know how far she'd gone or where she'd end up. One cataclysmic thought pushed its way to the forefront of her mind: She was drowning, and she was helpless to save herself.

A burst of the current flailed Josephine upward. She opened her mouth to scream but only managed to get out, “H-h-h—” instead of “Help.”

Nobody would hear her over the din of the river's
roar which had shut out all sounds in her head but the cadence of its power. J.D. had to have seen her fall in. But how could he get to her? He'd be swept away, too, and then they'd both end up . . .

Josephine couldn't finish the thought.

Blindly reaching to grab hold of anything she could as she bounced over larger rocks, she wasn't able to grip a life line. The boulders beneath her slapped her thighs, but they were submerged too much for her to use as a safety net. If only a fallen tree came in her path. But how would she know until it was too late? She had no control over where she went. And she was growing tired of fighting.

Fatigue engulfed her, and she slipped under the water once more. It was a hard fight to the surface, and once she made it, she went right back under again with only a broken breath to see her through to her next upward battle.

A blackness began to surround her, and the crashing in her ears began to ebb. She let herself go into the dark place, too cold to struggle.

A solid touch ramming against her side gave her the energy to reach out in a last-ditch effort to stop herself from buckling under.

The muscles of J.D.'s forearm hardened beneath her groping hand as she desperately clung to him. She struggled to hold on to his arm, her fingers digging into fabric, then finally through to the taut skin beneath. Hope welled inside her.

But her relief was short-lived. They bobbed down the river together like the cork on a silk fishing line. She felt herself being pulled to the right, her shoulder socket aching from the strain and water crashing over her head. She tried to help J.D., but she didn't know how. Her legs wouldn't work the way she wanted them to.

An eternity seemed to pass, and then the current lightened enough so that her feet made contact with
soft sand and pebbles. She tried to stand up but faltered. The faded red of J.D.'s long johns where a line of buttons were snagged and half undone across his chest came into focus as she leaned toward him.

His arms came around her waist and pulled her flush against him as he kept walking backward, drawing them both to the shore.

Once they left the river behind and were on dry ground, Josephine staggered to her knees, taking J.D. with her. Together they fell onto the mossy bank, he on his back, she flat on his chest. Her cheek pressed against the knit of his clothing, her eyes closed. The sun's rays didn't send down enough warmth to stop Josephine's trembling.

J.D. ran his palms down the curve of her back and up again, holding her close but not saying a word. She could hear his ragged breathing and the fast, steady thrum of his heart as it beat against her ear.

She coughed, breathing in shallow, quick gasps to regain her bearings. Somewhere overhead, a bird sang. A fly buzzed close by. The drone of Reliance River seemed far away.

Swallowing with difficulty, Josephine found her voice. “You saved me.”

“Yeah,” he replied, the vibration of his slow drawl rumbling through her breasts where they pressed against his chest.

J.D. fell silent after that, and Josephine didn't know what else to say. She was appreciative of his daring rescue, but the simple fact was, if he hadn't been spying on her, she wouldn't have fallen into the river. It was his fault he'd had to jump in to get her. But after he'd saved her from a sure drowning, she couldn't exactly point that out.

Josephine couldn't seem to stop her shivering no matter how hard she tried. She felt frozen through. The shallow pool of warm water that she'd dipped into and washed herself in had been so welcome. She had no idea just how frosty the river was until she'd
been caught in it. Now she was cold. Colder than she could ever remember being. Her back teeth actually chattered together, and she couldn't feel her lips even when she bit them in an effort to stop the incessant clicking of her molars.

Before she knew what was happening, J.D. rolled over, taking her with him until she was pinned beneath his body. He put most of his weight on his elbows and gazed down at her. Water from the ends of his wet hair dripped onto the tip of her nose and into her eyelashes. She blinked the moisture away.

Unbidden, the crazy thought came to her that she didn't really mind the stubble that darkened his chin. And the stitches at his temple reminded her of his rough edges. Both added to his strong constitution in such a way that she found herself more attracted to him than if he'd been clean-shaven and void of any facial imperfections.

She didn't want to think about the shocking position they were in, only that with him on top of her, she felt somewhat warmer. Now, if her teeth would quit dancing a four-quarter beat . . . but she just couldn't stop.

Without warning, J.D. dipped his head toward hers and covered her mouth with his. He kissed her. Nothing deep and passionate. He just kept brushing his lips against hers. Soft. Fluttering. Over and over. Pressing his perfectly sculpted mouth to the corners of her lips that were reserved for smiles and frowns, and making her forget about being so bone-chilled.

She shivered, only this time the waves were delightful and pleasant. At the base of her throat, her pulse tripped into an erratic beat, equally matching J.D.'s. Their breathing came in unison, and she couldn't remember how miserable she'd been seconds ago. Her teeth quieted; perhaps it was because his tongue traced the seam of her mouth, then slipped inside to give her a kiss more intimate than she had ever known.

She breathed in, dizzy yet completely coherent. The effect of his kiss was slow and drugging . . . as if she'd had more than her limit of sherry. She felt the stirrings of reckless abandon in her heart. This could be dangerous. But it was the danger that entrapped her . . . made her
want
to keep kissing him. And more.

The heat from his legs tangled with hers caused her senses to reel. Her breasts ached, the nipples sensitive against the lawn of her chemise. Blood pounded in her brain, and her thoughts spun.

This was madness. An exquisite madness. His hard body atop hers. Him making her feel utterly feminine, desirable, and even wanton, for the first time ever.

Her hands lifted to touch his broad shoulders and glide over the hard strength of muscles that led from his neck to his rigid biceps as he kept his full weight from crushing her. The firm contours of his body tucked neatly into her curves. She became acutely aware of the explosive sensations he gave her there, of the impassioned need that took hold of her.

The tips of his fingers skimmed across her side and upward to the edge of her breast, then upward to cup her . . . to tease her nipple. In spite of the touch being so pleasant and heady, she panicked. No matter how good what he was doing to her felt, she knew what would come next. With Hugh, after they'd made love, she'd always felt hollow and disappointed. She didn't want to feel that way about J.D.

Josephine moved her head. “No . . .”

J.D. stopped and leaned his head back. His eyes were dark in spite of their grayish-blue color. The irises were wide and fathomless. His mouth seemed more chiseled, his jaw set harder. He frowned, then shook a lock of hair from his lashes.

“I . . .” she mumbled. “I feel better now . . . thanks.”

“Yeah, your teeth stopped chattering,” he said, his voice low and deep, sending a ripple across her skin.

She stared at him, wide-eyed and vaguely aware that her lips were tingling. That the skin around her mouth felt tender from the abrasion of his scratchy beard.

“Just so you'll know,” he said, her gaze leveled on his lips as he spoke, “I wasn't gawking at you in your underwear.”

Josephine felt uncharacteristically snappish. “Then why did I catch you staring at me when your dog trampled through those trees?”

Other books

Hiding the Past by Nathan Dylan Goodwin
Underground by Haruki Murakami
The Great Gatsby by Francis Scott Fitzgerald
Prester John by John Buchan
Time of Contempt by Sapkowski, Andrzej
Mystery of Smugglers Cove by Franklin W. Dixon