Taming Jesse James (16 page)

They walked out of his office into the squad room and were nearly to the door when Ginny stopped behind him.

“Hey, why do you have Seth's favorite fishing cap? Did he leave it here? I swear, that husband of mine would lose his head if it wasn't screwed on.”

He froze, Maddie still squirming in his arms, and turned back to her. Ginny was holding the evidence bag containing the only link they had to the suspect in the vandalism at Sarah's house.

He thought of smeared blood and vicious messages and shattered windows. “That hat belongs to Seth?” he asked carefully, his heart pounding in a thick and sluggish away.

“Believe me, I wouldn't make a mistake about something like that. I've tried to burn the blasted thing several times. You'd think it was solid gold, for all the fuss Seth makes whenever I threaten to throw it away. He about pitched a fit when he couldn't find it last week. He'll be so glad to have it back.” She reached to open the bag.

“Wait!”

His loud command made Ginny jump and Maddie giggle. His mind raced as he tried to process the information and figure out what to tell Ginny about the ugly suspicions that had suddenly taken root.

“Do you mind if I hang on to it for a while longer? I'd like to see his face when he gets it back. My officers
would enjoy playing a little joke on the mayor. You know. Wrap it up and give it to him as a gift for, um, giving us such a hard time about our budget.”

She shrugged. “Sure. Anything to keep that stinky, dirty old thing out of my house a little longer.”

He could think of nothing but the implications of that cap belonging to Seth as he walked Ginny to her Range Rover and buckled Maddie into her car seat in the back.

He gave the little girl a distracted kiss, then kissed Ginny on the forehead. “I'll let you know if we find Corey. If he comes home before you hear from me, give me a buzz so I can call off my officers.”

“Thanks, Jess.” Some of her cheerfulness had returned and she smiled and waved as she backed out of the parking space and drove away.

He watched her go, his mind still racing. Could Seth really have been involved with the vandalism at Sarah's house? He thought about how upset the mayor had been when he'd been accused of abusing Corey. Could he have somehow found out Sarah was behind the accusation? Was this a payback of some kind?

It didn't make sense. He had known Seth most of his life, gone to Scout camp with him, double-dated in high school. The man he knew couldn't possibly be capable of such viciousness, could he?

But what other explanation could there be for his cap being on the scene?

Somehow Corey was the link. He needed to find the kid, sit him down and have a good long talk.

He was just sliding into his Bronco when his radio buzzed with static. “Chief, do you copy?” Jim Lovell's voice came over the airwaves along with a big dose of static.

He reached for the mike. “Yeah, Jim. What's up?”

“You might want to get over here. Ron Atkins just found a body on his ranch. A woman's body.”

His heart stopped beating, his vision dimmed around the edges. All he could think of was Sarah, alone at her house with just a dog for protection.

 

Sarah hummed along with the country song on the radio as she tore pieces of lettuce for her salad. It was a little late for lunch—after three—but she'd been too busy earlier in the day to eat.

Daisy sat at her feet, looking up every few minutes with a hopeful look in her big brown eyes.

“I don't think you'd like the salad, sweetie,” she assured the dog, but slipped her a few pieces of cold chicken anyway. They disappeared with one big gulp and a plea for more, making her laugh.

She had spent a great morning puttering around in her garden. She had needed it after the night before, desperately craved the peace she found there. Having Daisy's gentle, uncomplicated company had only made the morning that much sweeter.

Maybe she ought to get a dog. A big, furry retriever just like Daisy to share her secrets with and talk to and draw comfort from on cold winter nights when she had no one else.

She sighed. She sounded pathetic, but she couldn't deny she felt much better today after pouring out her woes to the dog.

It's a good thing Daisy couldn't talk, or she would have an earful to give to Jesse about the silly woman who was afraid she might be falling in love with him.

She gave a rueful laugh. She wasn't kidding anybody, not even Daisy. She wasn't afraid, she was ter
rified. What's worse, there was no
maybe
about it. She was already there, head over heels in love with a man who wouldn't even touch her.

The doorbell rang suddenly, sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet house. Her heart jumped into her throat, no doubt in her mind as to who stood on her doorstep. Daisy had given it away, uttering just one excited bark then leaping for the front door, only to stand there with her tail wagging like a metronome on steroids.

Okay. Calm down,
she ordered herself, and swung open the door. She could be cool and composed.

She wasn't at all prepared for the fury on his face, blazing at her like a furnace blast.

“Where the hell have you been?” He brushed past her and into the house, hand on his gun butt as if expecting a whole platoon of criminals to be sharing her Caesar salad.

She stiffened her spine at his tone. “I've been here all day, exactly as you ordered me this morning.”

His glower turned even more forbidding. “Haven't you ever heard of answering the phone? I've been calling the whole damn afternoon.”

“I've been outside in the yard. You wouldn't believe the weeds that took over in just a week…”

He cut her off with an oath far more pungent than the fertilizer she'd just finished spreading on her fledgling vegetables.

“You mean to tell me you didn't take a cordless phone outside with you?”

Her mouth pursed into a tight line. She wasn't about to let him stand here in her house and yell at her as if she were a fractious child. “I don't recall that being
among the lengthy list of commands you left me with this morning. Did I miss one?”

“It's called common sense.”

Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Until we know who's nursing one serious grudge against you, I don't want to take any chances with your safety.”

“I was perfectly safe. I kept Daisy with me the entire time.”

“How was I supposed to know that when you didn't answer the damn phone? You have any idea how worried I've been?”

Now that she looked more closely, she could see the lines of strain around his mouth, the dark shadows in his eyes.
He was worried about her.
Most of her annoyance at his sharp tone began to fade away, replaced by a slow, steady warmth that leapt to life in her chest.

“I'm sorry,” she murmured. “But as you can see, you worried for nothing. I'm perfectly fine. Great, even.”

He pulled his brown police-issue Stetson off and raked a hand through his dark hair. “Small consolation that is when I haven't been able to concentrate on anything but you all afternoon. If I could have broken away from the crime scene any earlier, I would have been here hours ago to check on you.”

“Crime scene?”

He shrugged. “A rancher found some bones on a remote area of his property, just inside the city limits. We called in the Wyoming State Police and they'll do most of the investigative work, but I still had to secure the scene.”

“Do they think it was murder?”

“Too early to say until the state forensics lab has a
chance to do its thing. All we know is that it was a woman, judging by the clothing found on the scene, and she's been there a while. Other than that, we don't have much to go on.”

He paused for a moment, then narrowed his gaze dangerously. “And you're not going to distract me that easily. You wouldn't believe the kinds of things that raced through my head when I couldn't get through. Don't scare me like that again.”

The concern in his voice, in those glittering blue eyes, made her suddenly, abashedly, weepy. “I'm sorry. I didn't think. I was just so happy to be out in the garden again.”

He continued watching her, a strange light in his eyes. “Your nose is sunburned.”

That's where the sting must be coming from. She touched a finger to it, then felt a matching blush take over the rest of her skin. Why was he looking at her like that?

“Um, I was just making a salad. Chicken Caesar. There's more than enough for two if you'd like to stay.”

“I'd rather kiss you again.”

She froze in place, her gaze darting to his as she felt her face flame even hotter.

“Don't look so surprised.” He parroted her words of the day before. “I'm sure half the men in town would love to do the same.”

“But not you, obviously,” she muttered, then stopped, mortified that she'd given voice to her thoughts.

His laugh was short and held little amusement. “You've got to be kidding. I haven't been able to think about anything else for days.”

“You don't have to lie, Jesse.” She dug her fists into Daisy's fur, refusing to meet that blue gaze. “I don't blame you for not finding me attractive after learning what…what happened in Chicago.”

“Not finding you attractive?” He growled an oath. “You don't have a clue, do you?”

“About what?”

“I could be crude and show you exactly what happens to me just being in the same room as you, but I'll refrain.”

She stared at him, stunned, and he blew out a ragged-sounding breath. “Sarah, I think you are without question the most beautiful, courageous, incredible woman I've ever met. You're like a soft, slender willow, bowed by the wind but not broken by it, and I've been
attracted
to you—as you so mildly put it—since the day you moved to Star Valley.”

A slow heat began to blossom inside her at his words. She felt shaky and aroused and very, very touched. So touched that she had to swallow hard twice before she could get the words out. “Why did you stop last night, then?”

He stepped forward and traced a thumb down her cheek. The tenderness of it brought tears to her eyes. “Oh, sweetheart. Not because I didn't want you. It took every ounce of strength I could find to step away.”

“But you did step away.”

“Because I knew that if I touched you again, kissed you again, I would make love to you.”

“I wanted you to.” She swallowed hard once more, trying to gather that courage he claimed she had. At last she managed to summon enough to meet his gaze. “I still want you to.”

H
e closed his eyes, her words slicing through him like a hot blade, and dropped his hand from her skin. He couldn't touch her right now. Not when his control teetered on a razor-thin edge.

“Sarah, I can't.”

He heard her shaky intake of air and opened his eyes to find her features had become a still, fragile mask.

“Okay. I guess we know where we stand.” She stepped away from him, and his heart broke a little.

He wouldn't let her retreat. Not like this. He gripped her hands in his and found them cool and trembling.

“Listen to me, sweetheart. Stopping the other night was the hardest thing I've ever done in my life, but I had no choice. I was too close to losing control. Too hungry for you. If it scared the hell out of me, I could only imagine what it would do to you. I couldn't take the risk of frightening you.”

“Because I was raped.”

She said it as a statement, not a question. He blew out a breath. “I hate that it happened to you. I would give anything I own to change the past, to be able to go back and protect you from it somehow.”

“You can't, though,” she said. “It
did
happen to me and it's part of who I am now.”

Her hands grew still in his and she met his gaze. He was stunned by the jumbled mix of emotions swimming there, but he also recognized desire when he saw it.

“I'm so tired of being afraid. Tired of feeling numb and timid and half-dead all the time. I feel alive with you, Jesse. Wonderfully alive. And very, very safe.”

How was he supposed to find the strength to walk away after she said a thing like that? “Sarah—”

“You won't hurt me, Jess. I know you would die before you would ever hurt me.” Her low voice strummed along his spine and he suddenly couldn't seem to draw enough air into his lungs.

He couldn't walk away. Not after this.

He murmured her name again, then cupped her sweet, beautiful face in his hands and kissed her gently.

She sighed against his mouth and settled in his arms as if she belonged nowhere else.

This was what she wanted. Dear heavens, this was exactly what she wanted. Sarah nestled against him, loving the strength of his arms around her, the solid expanse of chest beneath her hands. This hard, dangerous man cared about her—she had seen the truth in his eyes. How could she ever be frightened of that?

She loved him. Loved him and wanted to be here with him, with every shimmering, buzzing cell in her body.

“You'll tell me if I do anything you don't like,” he
commanded. “If I touch you wrong or startle you or anything at all.”

Laughter bubbled up in her chest. Who would have believed it? The heartbreaker of Star Valley was more nervous about this than she was! “I swear,” she said, managing to choke down her giggle. “You'll be the first to know.”

He kissed her again, long and hard and full of promise, until she just about melted all over the floor of her living room.

“We're not doing this here.” He drew back, his voice hoarse. “I don't need a damn audience.”

She glanced down and found Daisy watching them with interest, her tail wagging as she moved her head back and forth between the two of them like an observer at a Ping-Pong tournament.

Sarah laughed out loud this time, full of joy and tenderness and that wondrous thrum of anticipation. “My bedroom. Through the hall, second door on the right.”

Her laughter changed to a gasp when he effortlessly lifted her into his arms and carried her through the house to her room, closed the door with his boot and set her gently on the bed.

“Promise me, Sarah. Promise you'll tell me if you're at all uncomfortable.”

She nodded slowly, their gazes locked together. “As long as you promise you won't hold back.”

He stood watching her for a long time, until hot color soaked her skin in a slow glide from cheeks to neck to breasts. Then he leaned down and kissed her with soft, aching tenderness.

“I promise.” He whispered the vow against her mouth and she breathed it inside her.

She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer, and he deepened the kiss, explored her mouth until she was wet and weak and trembling. She gasped when his lips slid away from hers and began trailing kisses down the column of her neck.

“You taste like sunlight.” He nipped another taste. “Sunlight and flowers.”

She watched him, breathless and aroused and suddenly embarrassed. “I've been out working in the garden all day. It's probably more like sweat and fertilizer.”

“Let's see.” He glided his mouth down the column of her throat, to the buttons of her faded denim work shirt. She found it unbearably sexy watching his hands—broad and strong and masculine—as he worked each button. And even more sexy when his mouth followed the pathway of those hands, pressing soft, barely there kisses in a long trail down the strip of skin revealed by each undone button.

After dipping his tongue into her navel, he slid up and caught her mouth with his again. “Nope. Definitely flowers,” he murmured.

He slid aside the edges of her shirt, then worked the front clasp of her bra with a skill she might have teased him about under other circumstances. Now she could only watch him, her breath tangled in her throat as he freed her breasts from the lacy cups.

She wasn't very well endowed in that area. He was probably used to chesty women who knew how to flaunt their advantages, she thought glumly. Before she could come up with some kind of dismissive joke about it, her gaze met his and the stunned masculine appreciation in those dark blue depths sent her pulse rate skyrocketing.

He whispered a prayer or an oath—she wasn't sure which—then pressed his mouth reverently first to one slope then the other.

She made a low, strangled noise in her throat and he quickly looked up. “Everything okay?”

She couldn't talk just now. Not with this aching tenderness in her throat, this heavy ache in her breasts, in her womb. She decided this was one of those times when words weren't necessary anyway, so she gripped his hair tightly and drew his head back to her.

His laugh sounded rough against her breasts, but his mouth was gentle. His lips settled over one jutting peak, drawing it slowly into his mouth. She still hadn't found her breath when he began removing the rest of her clothing, then his own.

Distracted by the slow, heated magic of his mouth on her skin, she was hardly aware of it until he stood before her.

She blinked, stunned. He was beautiful. Ruggedly, unashamedly male, with a sculpted chest tapering to a lean waist, skin stretched taut over hard muscles. Her eyes dipped lower and she blushed bright red at the evidence of his desire.

“Don't look at me like that,” he ordered roughly.

“Like what?”

“Like I'm the big bad wolf about to gobble you up.”

“Promises, promises,” she murmured, and had the very distinct pleasure of seeing his eyes go wide and unfocused with desire.

He joined her on the bed again and she had to close her eyes as sensation after sensation washed over her at the intimacy of being there with him.

He kissed her again, his mouth gentle as his hands explored her skin with slow, sensual movements. She
sighed against his mouth. She loved the way he was touching her, but something was wrong. It took her a moment to figure out what. He was treating her like some kind of fragile porcelain doll, not like a woman.

She wanted more. She wanted to taste that wildness in him. Wanted heat and strength and passion, not this careful deference.

Frustrated, yearning, she reached between their bodies and closed her fingers around him. He froze with a harsh intake of breath, impaling her with his gaze. The raw desire there was everything she could have asked for and more.

“Be careful,” he warned, sending shivers of anticipation rippling down her spine.

“I'm tired of being careful. I won't break, Jesse. I promise.”

Her words seemed to unlock some kind of dam inside him. His movements became urgent, hurried. He licked, nipped, tasted her skin, while his long fingers played at the apex of her thighs.

She was more than ready for him, wet and slick and eager. She wanted him, wanted this. Still, she tensed when she felt his hard strength
there
preparing to enter her. A thin edge of nerves suddenly crackled through her like heat lightning and she jerked back.

She muttered a curse, furious with herself. She wasn't afraid. Damn it, she wouldn't be nervous. This was Jesse, and she trusted him completely.

“Sarah, look at me,” he ordered. She obeyed, her breath coming hard and fast as she tried to stay in control.

The tenderness in his blue eyes, on those gorgeous hard features, almost made her weep. He framed her face with his hands. “It's okay. We'll take things slow
for now. There's plenty of time for more later if you want to. And if you don't—if you're not ready—that's okay, too.”

“No. Please, Jess. I want this.”

He studied her for a moment, looking for any indication her words held more bravado than she was really feeling. Apparently satisfied, he slid between her legs again and entered her slowly, carefully.

She held her breath and kept her eyes open, her gaze locked with his. This was right. Oh, sweet heaven, this was right. She felt as if she were floating along on a sweet, warm river of need and it was wonderful.

Exercising great care and restraint, he moved inside her subtly, just enough that she gasped. The easy current of desire eddying around her churned a little faster, a little wilder, and she clutched at him.

He kissed her, blue eyes still wide open and burning into hers. “It's okay,” he murmured against her mouth. “Don't be afraid. I promise, I'll stop if you want me to.”

If he stopped, she would drown. She knew it as surely as she knew she loved him. These warm, erotic waves would change to the icy sea where she usually floated and she would sink below the frigid depths.

She couldn't find the words to tell him, so she used her mouth, her hands, her body.

She saw the need haze his eyes, felt his movements become more urgent. Finally, when she thought she wouldn't be able to bear this sweet tension another instant, he reached between their bodies and touched her.

Slick heat poured through her as she gasped his name and together they plunged over the edge of a churning, sparkling, beautiful waterfall.

Then he held her while she gave in to the tears of relief and amazement and sweet, healing peace.

 

She was officially a fallen woman.

Sarah smiled a little as she turned the lights off in her classroom late Monday afternoon.

All day, through math and spelling and social studies, she had been able to think of nothing but Jesse and waking this morning in his strong arms.

They had shared an incredible weekend, much of it in bed. After a quick trip back to his house Sunday morning for clothes and food for poor, hungry Daisy, they had cooked breakfast together in her little kitchen, laughing like a pair of kids making mud pies even as they paused frequently for more of those long, intoxicating kisses that turned her knees to spaghetti.

They ate breakfast in her bed and barely made it through the omelettes before she was in his arms once more. The kisses had led to touches, the touches to more.

Later she put him to work in her backyard, digging and pruning and hauling. She had this idea for a gold-fish pond in the corner and had roped him into helping. It was no real hardship, she had to admit, watching him wield a shovel with those powerful muscles flexing under his shirt.

Jesse had a standing command performance for Sunday dinner at the Diamond Harte when he wasn't on duty. Despite her protests, he had insisted on taking her along.

She smiled a little, remembering the reaction of his family. She had feared it might be awkward for them to have her as an unexpected guest, but the girls had
been ecstatic at the prospect of sharing dinner with their teacher.

She had the feeling Jesse didn't usually bring someone to the family gatherings—Ellie and Jesse's older brother, Matt, hadn't quite managed to conceal their surprise—but they had been warm and welcoming.

Cassie had just grinned at her.

It had been wonderful to see the easy, teasing affection in the family. She had missed this growing up as an only child, the banter and the stories and the easy, loving familiarity.

Though she knew the danger of it, she couldn't help wondering what it would be like to belong, to be a part of this tight-knit family.

She wasn't stupid enough to think what she and Jesse shared could ever be a forever kind of thing. What could she—a dowdy mouse of a schoolteacher, afraid of her own shadow—hope to offer a man as vibrant and alive as Jesse Harte?

For some mysterious reason, he was attracted to her. Any doubts she might have entertained about that had been dispelled about the seventh or eighth time he had reached hungrily for her over the weekend.

But she knew it wouldn't last.

She hadn't told him she loved him. A few times she had come close to whispering it as she had rested beside him with her cheek against his warm skin, listening to the steady comfort of his heartbeat. But she had swallowed the words down, knowing he wouldn't want them. Knowing they would only make him uncomfortable.

Her sigh stirred the air. She had gone into this with her eyes wide open. She knew from the beginning Jesse wasn't a forever kind of man, so she had determined
to squeeze every ounce of joy from this time and store it up in her heart.

For this moment, he was hers. She wasn't going to spoil it by regretting the impossible.

Besides, how could she be depressed when a man like Jesse Harte—with his hands and his strength and his devastating smile—would be on his way to meet her within the hour?

She reached the outside door of the school and unfurled her umbrella, with its print of one of Monet's water lily series.