CHAPTER ELEVEN
SHE HAD TO wait to develop the tintype. Complications came about when they had to figure out a safe place to put the wagon. The first suggestion had been the barn. To the outsider it was a perfectly logical solution. There was shade, water and some privacy. At least during the day. It would be hard to find a better space except for one thing. The chemicals she worked with were highly flammable. She’d been keeping that quiet. For a very good reason. People tended to react the way Luke was right now.
“What the hell do you mean they could explode?”
“In the right environment, if the proper precautions aren’t taken, ether can become...unstable.” So could collodion, but it only burned.
He slapped his Stetson against his thigh, a habit she was beginning to understand meant he was furious. “You mean it can damn well blow up.”
“Or catch fire.” She shrugged. “It’s not an all or nothing kind of thing. But fire would be more likely.”
The minuscule hope that downplaying the risks would soothe Luke’s reaction died when he narrowed his eyes.
“And you’ve been working with this for how long?”
“For a couple years, but let’s not get sidetracked. We were figuring out where to park the wagon.” She had no idea where the courage to face down a grown man was coming from, but she liked it.
“I’m not sidetracked. I’m just looking at the much bigger problem in front of me.”
He said that while looking directly at her. “I’m not a problem and neither is my profession. There are just certain precautions that need to be taken.”
He raked his hand through his hair, sending it spiking in different directions. “I thought Tucker was bad with his dynamite, but you’ve got him beat six ways to Sunday.”
“You’re getting emotional.”
“I passed emotional about five minutes ago when I found out you’ve been riding around in a bomb.”
“It is not a bomb.”
“That’s your opinion.”
“And it’s the only one that matters at the moment since this is my wagon, my endeavor and my problem.”
“If you park that wagon in the barn, it’ll be everybody’s problem.”
Taking a deep breath she rubbed her fingertips against her temple. He was giving her a headache. “This whole discussion started because I told you I didn’t want to park the wagon in the barn.”
“But you didn’t have any intention of telling me why.”
“Contrary to popular opinion, I am not stupid.”
“In accordance with current opinion, current being mine, you are out of your ever-loving mind.”
For heaven’s sake, he was impossible.
“Is this a private argument, or can anybody join in?”
Josie turned. A handsome blond-haired man with green eyes and a rakish hank of hair falling over his right brow stood beside the paddock, holding the reins of a beautiful pinto. At his other side stood a very mean-looking, very large dog, one that could easily pass for a wolf. Both man and beast had a wildness about them that made her uneasy.
“That depends on how you feel about flammable substances.”
As she watched, the wolf lifted its lip. She took a step closer to Luke.
“Quiet, Kel.” With a cock of his brow, the blond man asked, “I take it this one belongs to you, Luke?”
“I could wish.” He cut her another glare. “Because if she did, she’d be over my knee right now.”
“I certainly would not!”
The stranger laughed. “So now you’ve got two arguments going.”
Luke growled in his throat. “Welcome home, Sam. Good to see you. Now shut the heck up.”
Sam laughed. “Good to see you, too, Luke.”
Josie stared. This deadly-looking man wearing more guns and knives than she’d seen in one place before was Sam? Bella’s Sam? The man she described as the sweetest thing in the world?
“You’re nothing like I imagined.”
He took his hat off and hung it on the saddle horn. “Bella’s been spinning tales again, I see. Mind if I ask what you were imagining?”
“I was expecting somebody more—” she waved her hands “—more...Lancelot-like.”
“Ouch.” With a snap of his fingers he directed Kel to sit. “Did she go on about how I’m an angel come to earth?”
“That might have been mentioned.”
“I was afraid of that. The woman’s hard on my pride with her descriptions, but since whatever I am makes me the man of her dreams, I just study on clearing up the confusion later.” He held out his hand. “Sam MacGregor.”
She took it gingerly, keeping her eye on the dog. “Josie Kinder.”
With a different snap of his finger, he told the dog, “Say hi to Josie, Kel.”
With a cock of his head, the dog held up his front paw. Behind her, Luke sighed. “You might as well take it. Kel knows he won’t get a treat until you shake, so he’s not going to give up.”
She leaned forward, stopped and looked between the two men. “He doesn’t bite, does he?”
“He does, but not pretty little women who are friends with my wife.”
That wasn’t the complete comfort Sam clearly intended it to be. “Who decides if she’s pretty?”
With another sigh, a softer one this time, Luke put his hand on the small of her back. The gesture was encouraging and protective at the same time. “Go ahead and shake his paw. You’re safe.”
She did and she swore the creature smiled at her. Just in case, she smiled back. She didn’t want to offend him.
“There. Now you’re friends.”
Of course they were. Josie rolled her eyes. “And to think I spent years doing it the old-fashioned way with pieces of chicken and long intimate conversations.”
Sam laughed. “I like her.”
“Well, with that recommendation, I guess I’ll keep her.”
“Even with her penchant for—” Sam tilted his head and looked in the wagon “—ether, collodion and alcohol?”
Luke stepped around to check for himself. “She didn’t say anything about alcohol.”
“Can’t develop a tintype without it,” Sam said.
It was Josie’s turn to be surprised. “You’re a photographer?”
“No, but I once chased down a bounty that was. Made the mistake of letting him talk me into keeping the wagon with us.”
“Oh no.”
“Yup. He damn near burned the entire town down trying to escape.”
“I bet you never made that mistake again.”
“No, I didn’t, which is precisely why we will not be storing your wagon in my barn.”
Putting her hands on her hips, she turned to face Luke. “See, I told you storing it in the barn was a bad idea.”
“I never said it wasn’t.”
It was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. “While I don’t have much of a solution for the whole spanking dilemma, I could suggest parking the wagon under the oak tree in the backyard. It’s far enough away from the house that even if it blows up, there won’t be a problem, but close enough you won’t be in any danger.”
She only allowed a hint of sarcasm in her voice as she agreed, “There. I told you there’d be a reasonable solution, Luke.”
“Then we’ll let Sam handle the wagon and you can come with me.”
“In case you’re missing the subtext,” Sam told her, “you’re going to be the next thing he handles.”
That probably wasn’t meant to send a thrill down her spine, but it did. “What if I don’t want to be handled?”
“Then you tell me, and I deal with the problem. You’re a guest here in my home. That gives you certain rights to my protection.”
Sam and Luke were best friends. She’d be a very small person if she used good manners to pit them against each other. “Thank you, but I’m not afraid of Luke.”
It might have been her imagination, but a little of that inner tension left Luke with her declaration.
Sam cocked his head to the side. “I believe you’re the first woman I’ve ever heard say that.”
Luke just shook his head. “Go see your wife, Sam.”
“Gladly.”
As if on cue, a vaquero came strolling across the yard to take the reins from Sam. “Welcome home, patron.”
Sam grabbed his brown Stetson off the saddle. “Gracias, Guillermo.”
“De nada.”
“And, Guillermo, when you’re done with Breeze, could you get some men and move this wagon under the big oak in the backyard?”
“Sí, patron. With pleasure.”
Josie frowned at the man. Obviously he’d been eavesdropping on their discussion. How much had he overheard?
“It’s nice to meet you, Josie.” Sam settled his hat on his head. The image of a desperado was complete. “And, Luke?”
“Yeah?”
“There’s a garden shed to the left of the barn if you want a little privacy.”
Josie didn’t like Sam’s smile one bit. Watching him go, she muttered, “I take back every nice thing I ever thought about that man.”
Luke’s smile didn’t do much to calm her. Cupping her elbow in his palm, he guided her across the yard. “Why?”
She gave an experimental tug on her arm. His grip tightened. The message was clear. She was going where he wanted. “He just gave you indirect permission to abuse me!”
“He offered us some privacy.”
“So you could spank me.”
“You keep harping on that. Are you trying to convince me it’s a must?” She could have smacked him right there for his sardonic quirk of the brow. “Because I’ve got to tell you, I’m not averse.”
To the left of the barn was a small, whitewashed building. They were heading straight for it.
“You know darned well I’m not convincing you of that!”
“Then I’d suggest not giving me ideas.”
“I wasn’t the one who brought it up in the first place!”
“And yet, we’re still beating that dead horse.”
“If it were dead, we wouldn’t be talking about it.”
“My point exactly.”
She wanted to scream.
The shed wasn’t a very prepossessing structure, nor was it ramshackle. Like everything on the Montoya ranch, it was well cared for and sturdy. The door hinge didn’t even creak when Luke opened it. It was one of those scream now or forever hold her peace moments. With subtle pressure on her elbow, he guided her inside. He didn’t push. She didn’t scream. Luke closed the door behind them.
The interior wasn’t completely dark. A small window on the opposite wall let in enough light for her to see his expression. Her brows rose. Violence was not what was on the man’s mind. A smile started inside. “Is this where you spank me?”
His hand slid across her cheek, curved around her skull, wove through the tight strands swept up into her bun. The delicate tension flicked along her nerve endings.
“I’m mad as hell at you.”
The growling timbre in his voice shivered down her awareness. She’d never thought she was a woman who was attracted to danger, but there was no denying Luke was a very dangerous man. And there was no denying she found him compelling. A slight curl of his fingers pulled her up on her toes. She went without resisting because of what she saw in his eyes—lust, caring and determination. The emotional mix was as tempting as all get out. Goose bumps raced up her arms. She remembered how good it felt before, and those circumstances had been less than ideal. How much better could it feel now without terror clouding her response?
“Why?”
“You have no right risking your life like that.”
She hadn’t risked anything. She understood how to handle the chemicals. But that really wasn’t what was important here. “Why?”
His eyes narrowed. “Be careful what you ask for, Josie.”
“It’s a simple question.”
“Nothing is simple between you and me.”
Curling her fingers around his wrist, she held his gaze and asked again, “Why?”
It happened so fast, she didn’t realize what he’d done until it was over. In the blink of an eye, she was pressed up against the shed wall, her hands pinned beside her head and he was smiling down at her with the expression of a predator well satisfied with his prey.
So much for being in control.
“You, my darlin’, keep judging me by Eastern standards.”
Leaning his body into hers, giving her a bit of his weight, pinning and teasing her at the same time, he drawled, “But when you push a Western man...”
“He pushes back?”
Was that low husky voice her own?
The kiss on her forehead was very soft. The whisper in her ear, very deep. “No, sweetheart. A Western man gives you what you want.”
A shiver shook her from head to toe. “And you think I want this?”
The question came out in a breathy gasp.
He kissed the sensitive skin beneath her ear. “If you don’t, all you have to do is say no.”
Her nails bit into her palms as lightning streaked under her skin. He was so close, she could do nothing but feel him, not just with her skin but with her senses. His scent teased her memory, his voice her anticipation, his eyes, oh his eyes—they teased her most of all. Soft with emotion, dark with passion, lit with amusement, there was so much life within his eyes. So much...adventure. Maybe too much.
She took a breath. And then another. Releasing it slowly, she strove for balance. All she had to say was no. Just no. That was it. One syllable. No big deal.
Slowly, deliberately, she unclenched her fists. “Yes.” The word slipped out on a blissful sigh.
His resulting smile was slow-growing. Mesmerizing. He had a wonderful mouth. Lips neither too big nor too small, the lower lip was slightly fuller than the upper. How had she never noticed that before? She wanted to nibble on it. Run her tongue over it. Suck on it. She needed a picture of his mouth.
“That’s my girl.”
She should have protested the possession in that statement. Common sense said it was a must. Desire said, “Why bother?” She wanted this. She wanted him. “I thought you were going to give me what I wanted?”
“In my time, not yours.”
“Why can’t it just be our time? Why does it have to be one or the other?”
Keeping hold of her hands, he guided them over his shoulders. “No reason, whatsoever. Put your arms around my neck.”
She did, relishing the cool silk of his hair between her fingers. She had to stretch up on her toes. The tips of her breasts brushed his shirtfront. Her nipples hardened. Her breath caught as they tingled with sensation. He slid his arms between her shoulder blades and the wall, protecting her from the hardness.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Now, hold on.”
She would’ve asked what for, but he was already showing her. Pulling her closer, letting her feel proof of his passion, proof of his intent. His lips ghosted over hers. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. All she could do was cling to his shoulders and open her mouth and welcome the tumult.
Mouth to mouth, breath colliding, they flowed together. Close but not yet close enough. His left hand cradled her head, his right her back, their lips barely touching. Close. So close. She was surrounded by him, supported by him, suspended before him in a heated moment of anticipation. Heavens, she wanted done with this teasing parody. She wanted his kiss.
And still he didn’t deliver. And with every second that passed, her need increased. It was a test. It was a challenge. And she didn’t care whether he won and she lost. He was keeping her from the one thing she’d wanted her entire life... Completion.
Digging her nails into the back of his neck, she stood higher on her tiptoes, moaning when he leaned back, keeping the distance between them. “Darn you. Kiss me.”
His chuckle was just another added dimension. “I thought you’d never ask.”
She frowned at him. “Darn it, you made me ask.”
He smiled back. “But I won’t make you regret it.”
No he wouldn’t. Whatever it was between them was powerful. She might not know much, but she knew that. Keeping the connection soft at first, he backed her up against the wall and claimed her mouth with a bold thrust. Giving her the weight of his body, the depth of his passion, he kissed her like she was the only woman on earth for him. Oh, that was a gift she appreciated. To feel like she mattered. She never wanted it to end.
His tongue teased the corner of her mouth. It tickled. He chuckled when she flinched. “Not your favorite?”
She shook her head. “There are things you do much better.”
“Like what?”
He was making her think. She didn’t want to think. This was about feeling. This was about all those experiences she’d never gotten to have. This was about finally getting to be the woman that she’d always known she had the potential to be. This was about being wild. Uninhibited. This was about living. “I don’t know. Surprise me.”
His eyes narrowed. “That’s an awfully big invitation.”
Did he think she didn’t understand? “If I’m going to hell anyway, I might as well go all in.”
“That’s a tall order.”
“Consider it a challenge.”
“I hope like hell you don’t regret this.” His hand closed over her right breast. Even through all the layers of material, she could feel the heat. Her eyes closed on the sublime.
Yes.
He rubbed the tip with his thumb, flicked it with his nail, teased a response in random patterns. Moaning, she squirmed against the wall. He was watching her, and she didn’t care. Or maybe she did. It was hard to tell with pleasure streaking from her breast to her pussy in one impossibly long building ache.
“That’s right, Josie. Moan for me. Cry out. Show me what you want.”
What she wanted... She wanted to be loved. She wanted to be possessed. She wanted to be swept off her feet by a passion that was epic in nature. The kind of passion they wrote stories about. The kind men fought wars over.
Opening her eyes, she saw him looking down at her with the same lust that was burning in her. And she knew what the answer to the question was—she wanted him.
But she didn’t want him like this, like a puppeteer pulling the strings. She didn’t want him dispassionate and disengaged. She wanted him wild, tearing at her clothes, as hungry for her as she was for him. Reaching deep, she found the old her, the one who’d once defied convention. She found a strong woman who’d survived being the only bastard in a town of very proper people. She found her, and she set her loose.
Placing her hand over his, she wove her fingers between his, anchoring them. Luke’s breath hissed when she reached for the collar of her dress with the other. One by one, ever so slowly, never taking her gaze from his, she undid the buttons.
“Damn.”
His respirations came faster. His eyes narrowed. By the time she got to the fourth button, she knew she had his full attention. His fingers clenched under hers, squeezing her breast. It was her turn to moan. Her nipple ached. Her pussy right along with it.
“Do you know what you’re doing, woman?”
“I’m imagining how good your hand will feel against my skin,” she whispered, rubbing against his hand. “What are you doing?”
His head cocked to the side and his eyes narrowed. “Seeing how far your courage is going to carry you.”
Her instinct was to say “as far as we can go,” but she’d never played this game with a man before. This was wildly exciting. She’d never known her breasts had so much feeling. Never known what was felt there would go lower. The temptation to find out just how connected they were was impossible to resist. “Probably way over my head.”
His expression softened. “I won’t let you go that far.”
There were only a few buttons left. Her dress was open to just above her belly button. Her plain muslin camisole peeped out from between the open placket. In a moment of regret, she realized she wasn’t wearing her best. When she’d gotten up this morning, she hadn’t thought she’d wind up in the garden tempting a man to touch her flesh. Lesson learned. Seducing a man took more preplanning than she’d invested. And more fortitude. When it came to buttons and revelations, she’d gone as far as she could.
Ducking his gaze, she confessed, “I might have run out of courage.”
The look he gave her was assessing. “Are you ready for me to take over now?”
“Yes.”
“Thank God.”
She was finally letting go. It’d taken every bit of patience Luke had to wait Josie out. But rushing her now would’ve been the worst thing he could do. He used to think of her as a brown little wren, but in reality she was a butterfly trapped in her chrysalis, and watching her come alive under his touch was beauty in its purest form. She stood before him scared and eager, trembling. That fourth button on her dress was in danger of being twisted off. Catching her hands in his, he lifted them to his mouth and pressed a kiss on the back of each one. “I don’t want you to think anymore. Tonight, between us, there’s no holding back. If you want to squirm, squirm. If you want to scream, scream. This is about feelings, not fear. You can trust me. I won’t take you over your head.”
“All right.”
She was a hot little thing. “Good. Now, do you think you could release that death grip on your dress and put those pretty hands back up on my shoulders?”
“I’m not sure.” She looked up to the side, a wry, embarrassed smile on her lips. “It was so much easier before I decided to be audacious.”
He could’ve told her that was because she’d been in familiar territory, but now she was stepping off the ledge and into his arms. But to do that would just get her thinking and worrying. Was she good enough? Was he satisfied? Was it proper? He didn’t want any of those thoughts spinning in her head. He’d told her exactly what he wanted. He wanted her to feel.
“I like audacious.”
She placed her hands on his chest. The right one moved over until it covered his heart. He noticed she liked to do that. Truth be told, he liked it, too. There was something intimately possessive about your woman measuring your heartbeat in her palm.
With a slow steady glide her hands traveled the rest of the way to his shoulders. Her gaze locked somewhere around his chin. Her breath came in small, nervous pants. He made short work of the last few buttons. As the last one came undone, she stiffened.
What did she think he was going to do? Go insane with lust? Throw her to the floor and rape her? He shook his head. For a woman who’d been engaged, she was pretty green.
“Easy now.” Very lightly, he drew his fingers up beneath both edges of her blouse, widening the gap as he went, distracting her from reality with sensation. She shivered and clutched at his shoulders when he reached the underside of her breasts. Her nipples drew tight, making little tents in the front of her dress. Continuing the steady glide he dragged the back of his fingers over those hard tips, catching the sensitive nubs between his ring and middle finger for a slow steady pinch.
“Oh my God.” She fell back, bracing herself with her hands flat against the wall down by her hips. Her breasts beneath the thin muslin of her camisole jiggled with her erratic breaths.
“Perfect.” Just perfect.
In a coordinated move, he slid the sleeves off her shoulders, leaving them halfway down her arms, binding her lightly with the material, knowing the implication was more powerful than the reality.
“Oh God.” A flush climbed up her chest to her cheeks.
She reached for a sleeve.
“No. Stay like that.”
With a nervous glance at his groin and then another at his expression, she lowered her eyes and stood there as he’d asked, exposed and vulnerable to his pleasure.
She had no idea what her trust did to him. It was like an aphrodisiac to his soul. He took a step closer, towering over her as he hooked a finger under the square neck of the camisole. She shifted uncomfortably as he ran his fingers along the upper edge.
“What’s wrong?”
Her hands clutched at her skirts. “I didn’t think we’d be doing this today.”
It took a second to figure out what she meant. “You’re dressed perfectly.”
And she was. The thin undergarment was semitransparent across the front, giving him a tantalizing glimpse of large pink aureoles topped by equally large nipples. A lush bounty for his lips and tongue. He wanted to rip the camisole from her voluptuous little body. He settled for untying the drawstring.
Keeping his movements slow and deliberate, he placed his hands over her breasts, centering each one of those hard peaks in the middle of his palm, spreading his fingers over the full curves. He left them there, letting her get used to the feel. When she bit her lip and shifted, he eased his hands under the garment. Squeezing gently, he drew his fingers up in concert, elongating her breasts as he did until he reached the tips. Not every woman enjoyed this, but he could hope.
Capturing her sensitive nipples in a firm grip, he drew her breast out farther, suspending the heavy weight from the plump tip, gauging the pleasure from her expression, seeing the wonder at the glide of his fingers, the confusion as he held them out, the pleasure as the nipple took the weight, the utter shock as he gave them a jiggle. Goddamn, he liked to watch them jiggle.
Her head fell back. “Dear heavens.”
Dear heavens indeed. The shock of the connection shot through him like a lightning bolt, shaking his conviction. He’d promised not to take her too far, but she hadn’t made the same promise back. His hands clenched around her breasts, shaping the mounds, lifting them, preparing them. He wanted to rip the camisole apart and bare her to his mouth. He wanted to taste her.
“Did you like that?” he asked as she squirmed, his voice a hoarse husk of sound.
She didn’t answer. He didn’t push, just milked her breasts in slow steady strokes that stopped short of the puckered aureole. Drawing a little harder each time, stretching a tiny bit farther, reminding while denying.
“Did you like that?” he asked again. This time he let his pinky graze the tip. Her whole body jerked. So did his cock.
“Yes. Yes! Dammit, yes!”
“That’s my darling.”
This time he finished the milking motion with a steady pinch, increasing the tension until her lips parted and her lids dropped. “Right there?”
She nodded. He shook his head.
“Don’t hold back. Let me hear it. Tell me what you like.”
She licked her lips, leaving them moist and shining. “Yes. Like that.”
He did it again. And again. Relishing in her response. Her pleasure fed his. Her desire spiked his. God damn, she was a dream come true, intelligent, curious, passionate, adventurous, with a body that could bring a man to his knees. Was on the verge of bringing him to his knees. She moaned and arched up. He reached for his belt.
Why is it never friend?
Damn. Damn. Damn. Grinding his teeth, he reluctantly removed his hands from temptation. They were in a shed. Anyone could walk in. She deserved better than this. Pulling her into his arms, he righted her dress.
She pushed it right back off. “Luke.”
Did she have to say his name like that? As if he were the ache in her soul?
“Right here.”
Burning up in the same fire consuming her, clinging to decency by a toehold while she cut the ledge out from under his feet.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“Then why did you stop?” Another blush and then a whispered “I told you I liked it.”
“I know you did. So did I.”
She licked her lips, tempting him. He could kiss her. He could control a kiss. Maybe. Sinking his fingers into her hair, he growled, “Come here.”
The joy with which she welcomed his kiss undid his good intentions. In minutes he had her squirming and moaning his name. When her hand brushed his aching cock, the shock jerked him out of the haze.
“Son of a bitch.”
“What?” she asked, leaning back in his arms, hair tumbling around her face in complete disarray. Her dress gaped, revealing a seductive amount of cleavage. His hands shook as he tugged the edges back together. His cock ached at the insanity. She was ripe for the plucking and he was covering her up. He should be nominated for sainthood after this.
“That shouldn’t have happened.”
Clutching the front of her dress together, she whispered, “I don’t understand.”
But she did. He could see the understanding creeping past the passion. Her chin came up. “You don’t want me.”
It wasn’t the question it should have been.
He drew the back of his fingers down her cheek. “I want you like hell on fire.”
She blinked rapidly. “Then why?”
Dammit. Were those tears? He couldn’t take tears. Tears tore him up and if he had to comfort her, he’d take her, and that wasn’t what she wanted. “It’s not right.”
On an “I’m a big girl, Luke,” she pushed her dress and camisole off her right shoulder, exposing her full white breast to his hungry eyes. She had beautiful breasts with big nipples that begged to be teased and suckled. He’d like to make her come that way, to feel her pussy convulse around his fingers as he drove her over the edge with his lips and teeth. He ached to rub his cock over her tits, to sprinkle them with love bites before he fucked them. He wanted to brand them with his touch and his come until she couldn’t see him without remembering the pleasure and wanting more.
“Luke?”
Lust drove him a step forward before he caught himself. He was losing the battle. “Fuck.”
She blinked at the expletive.
He clenched his fists. “Cover up.” It came out harsher than he intended.
A tear slipped down her cheek as she yanked her dress up and haphazardly buttoned it. Catching her chin on the ledge of his hand, he tilted her face to his. Wiping the tear away, he swore.
“Goddammit, Josie, I’m trying to be your friend.”
Swatting his hand aside, she glared at him. “Well, who the heck asked you to do that?”