The Texan's Dream (14 page)

Jonathan inched away, his hands sliding to her waist. “You’re right. I have been watching our shadow for quite some time. He circles the courtyard then disappears behind the bunkhouse almost every night at this same time. I’ve tried to follow him and confront him, but the man must have Apache blood, for he moves swiftly without leaving a trail. I left the shutter open hoping he’d enter the house and I’d find out who he is. But he passed it by. Apparently, whatever he seeks isn’t in here. Unless, of course, he saw you and was frightened away.”

Jonathan leaned forward, rubbing his shin. “Maybe he’s encountered you before in the dark.”

Kara straightened. After a moment of silence, she said, “If you’re waiting for me to say I’m sorry for springing your trap, you’ll be waiting a long time, Mr. Catlin.” She couldn’t see herself apologizing for closing a window. “If you like, I’ll reopen the window.”

“No.” Jonathan sighed. “He’s gone. Whoever our shadow is, he darts off at the slightest sound.”

Kara let out an angry breath and shoved once more at his chest. The man stood entirely too near to be proper.

But instead of backing away, Jonathan leaned closer, burying his face against her neck. “You smell delicious tonight, Miss O’Riley. Like roses.”

She felt his face moving across the side of her throat, tickling her senses alive.

“Angela leaves little balls of red, rose-scented soap in my room.” She wasn’t sure he heard her as he drank in her nearness.

Leaning back into the velvet, she tried to put a little distance between them before she enjoyed the sensation too much.

Stay,
she whispered inside her mind.
Stay and discover the true man behind the smoky gray eyes.

When she didn’t slip away, Jonathan’s arm circled her hesitantly, pulling her sideways while his free hand caressed her braid and tugged her head gently. Now the neck and throat he admired was exposed.

He whispered her name almost as if he were the one surrendering and not advancing.

She didn’t move as he brushed his cheek from her ear to the lace of her collar. The heat of his breath made her tremble. Slowly, as though he had all the time in the world, he brushed his lips across her throat.

Kara closed her eyes and leaned her head back further, willingly drowning in the newly discovered pleasure. Never had she imagined a man’s slight touch could make her feel so wonderful. When Devin took her hand or patted her cheek there had been nothing like this. She knew she could easily slip from Jonathan’s grasp, but she stayed.

His next journey, from the bottom of her ear to her collar, planted light kisses along the path, then he returned, tasting her skin before she had time to cool.

He released her slowly, holding her in place by only the warmth of his body so near hers.

“You taste,” he whispered in a kiss against her ear, “even better than you smell.” While he spoke, his fingers unbuttoned the collar of her gown. He pushed the lace aside and moved lower.

Her hands reached behind her, gripping the heavy drapes. As he unbuttoned another button and found the hollow of her neck she couldn’t stop the sigh that left her lips.

Nothing had ever felt so good. She should stop him, step away, scream, remind him they’d agreed not to touch. But just as she needed to be held nights ago during the storm, now she needed to be desired and he was consuming her, one breath, one taste, one inch at a time.

His hands braced the wall on either side of her head as his mouth moved slowly back to her ear. “Free me from my promise,” he whispered. “Beg me to kiss you.”

“No,” she answered as his jawline stroked hers, his rough day’s growth of beard against her freshly scrubbed cheek.

He continued his advance. She trembled against him with pleasure as he brushed her skin with warm kisses. His fingers slowly opened the gown more, daring her to stop him. Daring her not to.

When she said nothing, he stroked the valley between her breasts with his fingers, making her cry out softly in pure enjoyment. His mouth followed the fingers’ journey downward.

When she sighed with pleasure, he leaned into her, pressing her against the curtains with the warmth of his body, letting the velvet encompass them.

His hands crossed behind her, drawing her fingers to his chest. Gently sliding her hands over his shoulders, he leaned down once more and pulled one side of her gown open, revealing the rise of her breast.

“Beg me to kiss you,” he mumbled as his mouth brushed against her flesh.

“No,” she whispered as he moved lower. Her hands stroked his shoulders and she rocked with the waves of heat spreading through her body.

When his kisses reached the swell of her breast, his hand delved beneath the cotton of her gown. The feel of his gentle grip spreading over her competed with his tongue sliding between her breasts.

When he leaned against her once more, she could feel the pounding of his heart next to hers.

“Beg me!” His hand never left her breast, but caressed her as though he held a treasure.

“Kiss me …”

His lips covered hers before she could finish. The kiss burned across her mouth as before, only now there was a fire of need deep within it.

She crossed her arms around his neck and hung on as the tidal wave hit her. There was something wild about him, making her hunger for more as he parted her lips and tasted her mouth.

As the kiss continued, she could tell he was fighting to be gentle, tender. His hands cautiously touched her hair, and moved ever so lightly against her throat already made sensitive by his attention. His effort touched her heart, where his passion couldn’t have.

When finally he broke the kiss, he took huge gulps of air, brushing against her with each breath. She could feel his every breath, his heart pounding.

“I’ve never known it could be …” she tried to say and breathe at the same time.

“Neither did I,” he answered as he cupped her face and kissed her lightly.

When she responded to his feather kisses, his lips softened into a tender kiss. The warmth of his mouth on her spread through her body, creating a hunger for more.

When he reluctantly ended the kiss, he held her gently.

Kara pushed to be free. For a moment, he resisted her. Then he let go and stepped aside.

She looked up into his blue eyes and saw what Nichole had told her to look for: passion, need, hunger and love.

The last frightened her the most, mixing reality into what seemed a perfect dream. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

He reached for her, but she darted away. “It’s not right. I’m going to marry another man.” She’d only meant to linger. She’d stayed too long … far too long.

Her head was filled with a sensual fog. How could she enjoy the closeness of another man when she’d never kissed Devin O’Toole? Would he kiss her like that when they married? Would anyone ever kiss her like that again in her life?

Kara ran from the room. She didn’t want to think, and she’d spent far too much time feeling in the past hour.

She ran past Snort’s room.

The old man appeared in the doorway wearing his longhandles. “Ever’thing all right, Miss Kara?”

“No.” She fought back tears. “Not at all.”

Before he could ask more, she slammed her bedroom door.

SIXTEEN

“NOW, IF YOU’RE MAKING THE LITTLE LADY FEEL UNWELCOME …” Snort began, his crooked finger pointing in the general direction of Jonathan.

Jonathan stared over Snort’s head at the windows. Low clouds moved in the west, almost as dark as his mood. The ranch was losing cattle. He had no idea how much money he had in the bank. Willis was hurt, maybe dead in Fort Worth, and all Snort worried about was Kara’s feelings.

“Yeah, or maybe you’re talking to her too rough.” H. B. added his thoughts. “Women seem to mind yelling and swearing. They want to be asked how they’re feeling and the like, even if it don’t matter a flea to you.”

“That’s right.” Snort fell into step. “And they like having someone spend time with them. Near as I can tell, if a woman has her druthers, she would never be alone. Even old widows travel in flocks ever’where they go. You’ll see an old man sitting in a saloon having a drink all by hisself, but you never see one old woman alone, not even in church. I think they’re converted in rows at most revivals just to fill the pew.”

Jonathan lowered his stare to the two old-timers in front of him. Suddenly these two retired rangers, who’d never been married and only presumably had mothers, were experts on women. “I didn’t do anything to make her cry,” he said for the tenth time.

“Well, you must have done somethin‘,” Snort accused, lifting his gunbelt a few inches as if getting down to the business of investigating. “ ’Cause I seen her running down the hall, water dripping off her face like she was a natural spring.”

“And she didn’t come down to breakfast,” H. B. pointed out. “That’s something she’s never done before. Not since I’ve known her.”

“She hasn’t even been here but a few months,” Jonathan reminded them, but it didn’t seem to be a factor. “We’ve more important things that need discussing besides Miss O’Riley’s moods.”

In truth, he’d been thinking about her most of the night instead of sleeping. He went over and over what had happened by the windows when they’d been wrapped in velvet and the night. She’d been as willing as he. She even asked … no, begged … him to kiss her.

“What?” Snort pulled Jonathan back from his thoughts.

Jonathan moved closer to the two men and lowered his voice. “I saw the shadow moving across the courtyard again last night.”

“Sure it wasn’t just some cowhand out for a walk? You know, Lefty can’t go a night without at least one trip to the privy ever since that time he was shot down by the Rio Grande.”

“Where was he shot again?” H. B. asked.

“Right south of El Paso. He was riding with Walker, crossing back and forth over the river getting rustlers when the army wouldn’t touch them.”

“I was on a few of those raids. One time …”

“Gentlemen. It wasn’t Lefty.” Jonathan shook his head. “He moved from shadow to shadow, hiding, making sure all was quiet before he moved again. Whoever our night walker is, he didn’t want to be seen. And he’s good at what he does. Otherwise, we’d have caught him by now.” Jonathan looked at Snort. “How many new men did Newton hire last week in Brady?”

“Three,” Snort answered. “Two of them were local boys who’ve worked for the ranch before. The third seems like a nice fellow. Irishman. Tired of working the railroads, he said.”

“Check him out,” Jonathan ordered two men who knew exactly what that entailed. “And bring a few men in to pull guard duty. From now on, I want a man watching the courtyard from dusk ’til dawn, as well as one at the gate.”

Almost as an afterthought, he asked, “Did we have any new lawmen come by looking for a job?” Jonathan knew it was the ranch policy never to turn one away. His grandmother knew these men usually had no family to go home to. Here, they could live out their days in peace. She always offered them a full wage and a house on the ranch borders in exchange for security. Jonathan planned to continue the policy for as long as he owned the ranch.

“One,” Snort answered. “A fellow by the name of Cooper who was a deputy in Houston. He arrived about the same time you got back from Kansas City. He said they let him go ’cause he busted his hand up, but a cowhand saw him target shooting and said he can blast away just as good with the other. He’s gray headed, but even unarmed, he’s not a man you’d want to cross.”

“Check around, see if anyone remembers him.” Jonathan added, “And keep an eye on him after dark.”

“We’ll get right on it.” They both snapped to attention like old bloodhounds forever ready for the call.

“What about Miss Kara?” Snort asked, determined not to forget about the lady.

“I’ll talk to her,” Jonathan promised. “Maybe she’s just homesick.”