The Texan (20 page)

It hadn’t meant much at the time, but when the VX mines had been hijacked two days later, Billy had thought back to what he’d seen and heard.

Major Blackthorne hadn’t been merely surprised at being discovered, he’d been distressed. The fact the other man was a civilian, and had no business near the camp, seemed significant. The words themselves were damning.

Luke had apparently nosed around and managed to find out enough to get himself in deep shit. Billy had minded his own business, but it looked like he was going to be dragged willy-nilly into the line of fire anyway.

If Luke Creed had disappeared, there was every chance he’d been caught snooping by the bad guys. It wasn’t going to take long for Clay Blackthorne to make the connection between Luke and Billy. And if the hijackers had shot a Texas Ranger, it wasn’t going to bother them even a little bit to put a bullet into someone with as few friends and as little influence as Bad Billy Coburn.

Which was another good reason why he should keep Summer Blackthorne at a distance. Not that Billy thought her own brother would hurt her, but if the bad guys did come after him, she might get caught in the crossfire. Billy planned to tell her today that they shouldn’t see each other for a while—at least until the situation with the VX mines was resolved.

His mother’s hysterics had nothing to do with his decision. She’d always been uncomfortable around Summer. Billy figured she just didn’t want her only son getting hurt by some spoiled little rich girl, who was only slumming, and would break his heart if he ever fell in love with her.

If his mother only knew. It was way too late to protect him from that kind of pain. He’d been in love with Summer Blackthorne from the first moment he’d laid eyes on her, when she was sixteen and he was twenty. He’d been working for her father, mucking stalls in the barn, when she’d shown up to saddle her horse for a ride.

Summer Blackthorne had been the most beautiful girl Billy had ever seen. She was also far above the touch of a humble cowboy. As the boss’s daughter, she’d expected his homage. And been intrigued when she didn’t get it.

He’d known from the start that he didn’t have a chance with her, which was why he’d ignored her. Now that he knew her better, Billy realized that he’d done the one thing that was sure to get her attention.

His aloofness had kept her from ever realizing how he really felt about her. And her repeated attempts to break through his indifference had finally resulted in the friendship that had grown between them over the years. She’d confessed that she liked being with him because she could relax and be herself.

She’d told him a great many things he knew she never would have told a man she loved. Because they revealed how vulnerable she was. How very alone she felt in a houseful of servants. How her brothers stifled her, because they wanted to keep her safe. How little she understood her mother, who kept her at far more than arm’s distance. How much she loved her father, who couldn’t imagine the dreams she had that reached far beyond becoming a wife and mother.

Billy wished he hadn’t ruined everything by kissing her. Or, he thought wryly and more truthfully, by letting her kiss him. It wasn’t going to be easy to convince Summer
to forego her visits for a while. Somehow he had to do it.

He’d decided to meet her away from the house, at a shady spot near a stock pond on his property, where they wouldn’t be seen by his mother. He’d ridden there on horseback, taking advantage of the opportunity to repair some downed barbed wire fence along the way. Summer drove to meet him in her brand-new, cherry-red Silverado.

She was already waiting for him when he arrived, wearing a tailored Western shirt, designer jeans that hugged every curve, and hand-tooled Western boots with her family’s Circle B brand on them, made especially for her by a bootmaker in Dallas. The clothes on her back would have fed his family for half a year. She had no concept of what it meant to be poor, and he could never explain it to her.

Not that he’d ever tried. He’d known all along that he would only have her in his life for a little while. Until she fell in love—or her father found a man for her to marry. He’d planned to take off for parts unknown to seek his fortune long before he had to watch her walk down the aisle with some other man.

She was sitting on the hood of her Silverado, leaning back with her palms flat on the shiny red finish, knees crossed, booted toe bouncing, waiting for him to come to her.

“Hey,” she said with a smile that made his chest ache. “I thought you’d never get here.”

“Had to fix some fence,” he explained.

“I would’ve been glad to help.”

“It’s done now.” He dismounted and tied his horse to
one of the cottonwoods that shaded the pond, then crossed to her. She reached out her arms, and without even thinking, he grabbed her by the waist to help her down.

He hadn’t intended to slide her along his body. It just happened. Every nerve ending came alive when the softness of her hips and breasts collided with the hardness of his own.

“We’re not going to do this,” he said in a harsh voice.

“Billy,” she whispered. “Please.”

She looked up at him. And he looked down at her. And groaned in submission.

His head swooped down, and he plundered her mouth. He told himself it didn’t matter, because this wasn’t going anywhere. One kiss. He’d take one last, desperate, soul-filling kiss. Then he’d tell her she had to stay away from him.

For her sake. Because it was dangerous to hang around him, when he was a man without a future.

And for his sake. Because she was only going to rip his heart out and leave him to suffer without one the rest of his life.

One touch. That was all he wanted. He made a grating sound of satisfaction at the feel of her breast filling his hand, the weight and softness of it, the nipple budding beneath his fingertips. He caught her moan of surprise and delight in his ravaging mouth.

His body ached with wanting her. Needing her. He already felt the fear of losing her.

He yanked open her shirt, popping the buttons, which pinged against the front fender. He dragged the cloth halfway down her arms, unhooked the front clasp of her
bra and shoved it aside—and admired the feast before him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed. “So perfect.”

He saw the hot flush rising on her chest, skating its way up her throat, and sought her eyes with his own. He stroked her hot cheeks tenderly with his knuckles, then brushed her long blond curls behind her shoulders, leaving her breasts bare.

“Nobody’s ever seen me like this,” she admitted shyly. “I’m glad you’re the first, Billy.”

He hadn’t imagined she was untouched. She’d attended a dozen different universities—and gotten thrown out of every one. She’d told him how she ran with a wild, wealthy crowd. How she’d dated so many rich, shallow boys. He hadn’t asked for details. He hadn’t wanted to know.

“I’m glad, too,” he said, his throat suddenly thick with emotion. It was a wonderful gift. One he’d treasure all his life. He was wearing an undershirt with the arms torn out and cut to leave his midriff bare, and he yanked it off over his head, then pulled her close, flesh to flesh. “God, Summer,” he whispered in her ear. “I can’t believe…”

“I know…” she whispered back. “I never thought…”

He felt her mouth against his throat, felt her hot breath beneath his ear. Felt himself getting harder, when he’d thought he was as hard as he could get.

He found her mouth and kissed her reverently. That didn’t last any longer than it took for her tongue to find its way into his mouth. He sucked hard on it and heard her guttural groan.

He wanted her like he’d never wanted a woman in his life. His heart was beating so hard his chest hurt. His
body throbbed. His brain had shut down, because all the blood had left his head and journeyed to other regions. He grabbed her buttocks in both hands and spread his legs wide and pulled her into the cradle of his thighs, rubbing against her, with only a scrap of cotton and a layer of denim between them.

“Oh,” she moaned. “Yes.”

“Oh,” he moaned. “No.”

He clutched her tight against him, holding her there so she couldn’t move, even though he could feel her wriggling against him. “We have to stop, Summer.”

“Why? It feels so good, Billy. It feels so right.”

Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her pupils dilated, her lips swollen and pouty from his kisses. He tasted her lips and told himself it was for the last time. “This isn’t a good idea.”

“Why not?”

She rubbed her breasts against the swirls of dark hair on his chest, and he felt her nipples tighten into buds. His hands left her rear end and circled her back, holding her tightly in his embrace to stop the exquisite torture. Unrestrained, her hips thrust against him again.

He laughed. “Stop it, Summer. You’re killing me.”

She rubbed herself against him and said, “You don’t feel dead.”

But he was dying to have her, when he knew it wasn’t something a friend would do. “You should be saving yourself for that special man in your life,” he said, putting her away from him.

She grabbed the sides of her shirt to cover her breasts, then crossed her arms for good measure. “I hate it when other people think they know what’s best for me. I have a
mind and a will of my own, Billy. If I want to do this with you, I will.”

He grabbed her by the arms and looked deep into her eyes. “Are you willing to marry me, Summer? To live in my house and work this ranch with me?”

Startled, she gaped at him. “Are you proposing?”

“I’m asking if you really want to be with me, Summer. Enough to give up your life at Bitter Creek and become a part of mine.”

“I don’t get my trust fund until I’m twenty-five.”

He shook her. “What does that have to do with anything? Do you want to marry me or not?”

“How do I know? Until a few days ago, I never thought of you as anything but my friend.”

“A moment ago you were ready to give me your virginity.”

She flushed. “Why are you doing this, Billy? I wanted to give you … this gift.”

“And then what?” He didn’t want that kind of memory. The kind a man never got over. The kind that would keep him from loving any other woman. He let go of her arms and took a step back. “Make up your mind. Do we do this? Or go back to being just friends.”

“Can we still be ‘just friends’?” she asked, her brow furrowed. She tried buttoning her shirt, realized half the buttons were missing and gave up. “How am I supposed to forget your kisses? What it feels like to have you touch me?”

“We remember those things. We just don’t repeat them,” he said.

“For how long?”

“This isn’t a game, Summer. I’m not a toy you can
play with when the mood strikes and put back in the box.”

He didn’t see the slap coming. But he knew he deserved it. Maybe it was better if she left angry. So long as she left. He wasn’t sure how long he could resist the urge to drag her back into his arms.

She made a whimpering sound in her throat and met his gaze with golden eyes welling with tears. “I’m sorry. I’ve never hit anyone in my life. I feel awful.”

She needed a friend to hold her. She needed a friend to commiserate with her. She needed a friend to love her.

Billy knew she was depending on him to be that friend. He pulled her into his arms and held her, commanding his unruly body to forget any ideas it had about doing anything more than comforting the woman in his arms.

“I don’t want to lose your friendship,” he said.

“I don’t want to lose yours,” Summer replied, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist.

Her shirt had come open, and her breasts were warm against his chest. He reached between them and pulled her shirt closed. Then he hugged her again, let her go, and stepped back. “We can make this work,” he said.

“Yeah. Right.” She lifted her shirttail to dab at the tears in her eyes. “I like you so much, Billy.”

“I know,” he said with a lopsided grin. “I like you, too.” That was the problem.

She stuck out her hand, and he saw it was trembling. “Friends?”

He took her hand, shook it once, and let it go. “Friends.”

•    •    •

BLACKJACK HAD BEEN STUNNED WHEN HE ARRIVED HOME
after spending Sunday afternoon with Lauren Creed, to discover his wife sitting behind his desk with a drink in her hand.

“Surprised?” she asked, as she swiveled the chair to face him.

“How the hell did you get out?” he demanded.

“The wheels of justice are slow, but they do eventually turn.”

“I was supposed to be notified when you were being released.”

She pointed to the blinking red light on his answering machine. “I believe they did call. You weren’t in.”

“How did you manage to get them to let you go?”

“I finally found a doctor and a lawyer and a judge you didn’t control,” she said with irritating calm. “And, after all, I’m not really crazy. It was a simple matter to convince the doctor that I was as sane as he was. Even simpler for the lawyer to seek a court order from the judge for my release. And here I am, a free woman.”

“You had a man murdered.”

“So you say. But really, Jackson, there just isn’t any
proof
. Why, you had as much reason to want Jesse Creed dead as I did. More, if you consider your behavior with the lovely widow while I’ve been locked away in that hellhole.”

Blackjack gritted his teeth. “Keep Ren out of this.”

“I wish I could,” Eve said. “I’m afraid she’s in it up to her lovely eyeballs. You’ve been a very naughty boy, Jackson.”

“I told you eighteen months ago that I wanted out.”

“Since we’re still married, your behavior is called adultery. I would hate for this to get messy, but—”

His hands tightened on the back of the horn-and-rawhide chair in front of the desk until they were white at the knuckles. “Don’t threaten me, Eve.”

“Stay away from her, Jackson. Or you won’t like what I’ll do.”

“Don’t threaten her. Or me. Or you won’t like what
I’ll
do,” he said furiously.

“Actually, I was thinking it might hurt you more if I take Bitter Creek away from you,” Eve said. “I can do it. Especially since you’ve provided such lovely ammunition for me to use in court. I have pictures of the two of you together.”