Synopsis | Reviews | Excerpt
He’s a legendary gunslinger working for the powerful business baron she
intends to bring down. When he takes her captive, desire makes a prisoner of
them both.
Leaning his hard body against hers to pin her to the rock again, Jake
asked roughly, "You could try by remembering that it’s against the law to rob
trains.”
"You work for Durant—what do
you care about the law?”
"I might go easy on you if
you’ll talk. Where’s the rest of your gang?”
The mutinous stare she gave
him was indicative of the answers he would receive, and Lassiter shrugged.
"Fine. Stay quiet. I’m getting paid to stop ‘Colorado Kate,’ and I guess that’s
who I’m taking back with me.”
"You’re taking me to Durant?”
she asked softly. He nodded. So this was really the end. She had no illusions
as to Durant’s intentions. He’d kill her just as ruthlessly as he’d killed her
parents.
"Care to tell me where I can
find the Lost Canyon Gang?” Jake asked
When she refused to answer, he
curled his fingers around her wrists and straightened, pulling her up with him.
Caitlin stared at him warily, seeing in his dark, reflective gaze something she
didn’t recognize. The sun beat down in a blaze of heat; a hot, dry wind blew,
lifting her hair to drift around her face, yet she felt a sudden shiver.
To her sudden, intense surprise, Lassiter lowered his head and kissed
her.
Virginia Brown is the award-winning author of nearly fifty novels in
historical romance, mystery and general fiction.
"It's been a long time since I read a good western historical romance. I really enjoyed this one. I wish they still wrote 'em like this. There is plenty of romance, steamy sex, action, adventure, laughter and tears." --Julie Whiteley, Net Galley
Chapter 1
"IT’S
COLORADO KATE!” someone shouted as the outlaws stepped onto the train with guns
drawn, snarling orders for the passengers to stand with their hands up.
A
whoosh of steam from the train’s engine and the high-pitched scree of
the brakes drowned out any replies as it ground to a halt. Caitlin Conrad edged
down the center of the railroad car on light feet, her eyes narrowing over the
red scarf she had drawn up over her nose and mouth.
Snug-fitting
tan pants outlined her legs and hips as she sauntered down the narrow aisle,
and she could feel damp patches spread on her shirt from the heat. Even with
her hair tucked up beneath the wide-brimmed sombrero she wore, they knew her.
She gave a mental shrug. She didn’t care. She hoped—prayed—that G.K. Durant
would know that she had robbed his payroll train once again.
Flicking
her wary gaze around the railroad car and its passengers, Caitlin balanced the
pearl handle of her .45 in one palm, taking comfort in its familiar weight. It
had become part of her in the past few years. She depended upon it to keep her
alive—and keep her vengeance alive.
Now,
letting her eyes drift from one passenger to the next, Caitlin’s gaze was
arrested by a man at the far end of the car. He was standing, as were the
others, but instead of seeming afraid or angry, he seemed poised, and her
instincts immediately shouted danger at her.
"Keep
an eye on that one,” she told her brother in a low voice, and indicated the
man. She felt Devon’s attention shift from the heavy payroll bags he was taking
from a furious guard. They had a man at each end of the car, and three of them
were inside—enough to keep everyone in line and collect their weapons. Devon
shrugged.
"Get
their hands in the air. I’ll back you.”
"Hands
up!” Caitlin barked, swaggering down the aisle with her gun at the ready. She
saw the man’s reaction, and felt a wave of irritation. He seemed only faintly
amused by her order. A slight smile curled the corners of his mouth, and when
he saw her quickly narrowed gaze beneath the wide brim of her sombrero, he was
bold enough to actually lift a dark brow as if mocking her.
Caitlin
left her brother Devon’s side and strode toward the man, taking careful note of
the low-slung holster and the lethal weapon at his side. He looked like a man
who knew how to use it. He was tall, wide-shouldered and lean-hipped, and his
legs were slightly apart and braced, his hands resting on the back of the seat
in front of him. An air of leashed power and arrogance emanated from him.
Irritated
by his lack of concern and mocking amusement, Caitlin barked, "Get your hands
up, mister!”
His
smile kicked higher, but his hands remained on the back of the seat in front of
him. Caitlin recognized the challenge in his dark eyes and stifled a spurt of
rage. She could not allow herself to be provoked into doing something foolish.
No one had ever been killed during one of their holdups, and she had no
intention of it happening now.
Coolly,
her voice low and gruff, she approached the man and stood very close, letting
her gaze rake him with cold deliberation.
"You
seem to be a bit stubborn, mister,” she said at last.
"Do
I?”
His
voice was low and husky and held a faintly ironic edge. Caitlin recognized a
note of suppressed fury behind his words and smiled beneath her red scarf.
Green
eyes glittered slightly as she tilted back her head and brought her pistol up.
Deliberately drawing back the hammer with her thumb, she took careful aim at
the man’s midsection. Her voice was soft.
"That
could be dangerous.”
"Could
be,” he drawled, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. He still didn’t lift his
arms into the air, but met her icy gaze with one of his own. For the first
time, she could see the fierce resolve in his eyes, and felt a moment’s
uncertainty. Then she dismissed it.
"A
gut-shot man, I’m told, takes a long time to die.” She saw a faint flicker in
his gaze, but no other reaction. "I wonder if that’s true,” she mused aloud,
the barrel never wavering. "If you don’t put your hands up, I guess we’ll both
get the chance to find out.”
Behind
her, Caitlin could hear her brother and the others still ranging up and down
the aisle, gathering guns and valuables from the passengers, but her world had
narrowed to this one stubborn man with dark hair, a strong face, and murder in
his eyes. She felt a brief spurt of triumph when his arms slowly lifted.
"I
yield to the lady with the loaded pistol,” he said in an insulting tone
that left her in no doubt that he didn’t think for a moment that she was a
lady.
That
didn’t matter to Caitlin. She didn’t really care what he thought. A slow
sparkle lit her eyes as she reached out to pluck his pistol from its holster
and toss it out the open window of the train. Then, as she stared up at him,
she had the thought that this insolent man with the hard eyes was attractive.
And he was furious that she had made him back down. It wasn’t unusual for men
to have this reaction when she robbed them, but his cool insolence irritated
her. Caitlin decided to infuriate him some more.
Reaching
out one hand—keeping her pistol trained on him—she slid it up and over his
broad chest as if searching for more weapons, smiling at the way he sucked in a
deep breath at her touch, his mouth tightening.
"You’re
Colorado Kate,” he said flatly, adding when her head tilted back, "I heard you
were little more than a leather-faced slut.”
Caitlin
stiffened, but refused to let him see her swift anger. "Did you? Too bad youwon’t find out if it’s true,” she mocked, her gaze locking with his. "Any
hidden weapons on you, handsome?” Slowly, ignoring his murderous gaze and the
flabbergasted stares of the other passengers, Caitlin began to unbutton his
shirt and pull it loose from the waist of his denim pants. Let him squirm. He
needed to be brought down a peg or two, and she would enjoy doing it.
Caitlin
expected him to be uncomfortable—what she didn’t expect was the quick, strange
tingling that jolted her nerves at the feel of this man’s body beneath her
hand. It made her pause for an instant, and she felt a flash of confusion. The
man’s deep, richly masculine voice had started a tremor in her, and now the
smooth, slick feel of his slightly damp skin beneath her fingers made her
throat tighten and her insides feel all funny and hot. She could feel his black
eyes on her, cold and as expressionless as pieces of jet, and that made her
want to bait him some more.
She
allowed herself a moment’s admiration for his flat muscles, the taut span of
flesh that was slightly damp from the heat, and the mat of curling hair on his
chest. She noted his jerk of reaction when she dragged her hand in a caress
across his rib cage and the scrub-board ridges of his belly. Caitlin smiled.
The strong column of his throat corded briefly, and she knew he was resisting
the urge to shove her away, or grab at her. His effort to hold back showed on
his face, in the deep lines cutting down each side of his mouth. He knew as
well as she did that a loaded pistol at this range would not miss.
The
man’s discomfiture slightly eased the unfamiliar tight warmth inside her.
"Kate!”
Devon’s exasperated voice came from behind her, and she smiled up at the
furious man. She knew he could see amusement in her eyes, and that it made him
even more angry at his helplessness. Her hand pressed more firmly against his
chest, and she felt the quiver of his tense muscles beneath her palm. Lightly,
teasingly, she slid her fingertips across the pelt on his chest, watching idly
as it curled around her fingers.
Without
looking behind her to her brother, Caitlin said in a mocking voice, "I think
we’re going to have to search this one. He’s too stubborn to dig into his
pockets for us.”
Slowly,
watching the man’s features sharpen into a cold mask, she let her hand trail
over his skin and down to his waist, pausing before she tucked one hand into
his pocket.
"My
partner has his gun aimed at your head,” she reminded when the man’s muscles
bunched beneath her palm. "And don’t forget this little toy in my hand.”
"Enjoying
yourself?” the man asked without taking his eyes from her face, and Caitlin
almost wished he could see her smile.
"Are
you?” she countered, and was momentarily disconcerted by his husky, amused
laugh.
"Not
yet. Move your hand a little lower...”
Stung,
Caitlin snatched her hand out of his pocket, feeling the eyes of the other
passengers on her, and knowing what they must be thinking. Her chin tilted. She
felt a flush of heat stain her face and was glad no one could see it. Not that
she really cared. Hadn’t she worked hard to cultivate this very reputation? She
had a job to do, and she shouldn’t have let herself be dissuaded from it for a
moment. She made her voice deliberately cutting.
"Sorry,
mister, you don’t have anything I want. Let’s cut this short.” She injected
laughter into her tone, and it grew deeper as she saw the fury in his eyes, and
the taut line of his mouth grow thinner.
"Nothing?”
he asked mockingly, and she shrugged.
"Nothing
but money.” She stepped back. "All right,” she said then, her eyes glittering
above the edge of her mask, "put your valuables into my partner’s sack here, and
we’ll be out of your way. Ah—use your left hand.”
Holding
her gaze with his, the man drawled, "I’ll see you again, and when I do, you
won’t be so cocky.”
"Really?”
Her gun barrel waggled at him. "I hope you’re faster on the draw next time.
This time, you were beat before you knew it.”
"Next
time, I’ll be after you.”
"I
hope that’s not a threat,” Caitlin said around the lump in her throat. The man
looked dangerous, suddenly, and she felt the menace in his heavy-lashed black
eyes.
"No.
It’s a promise.”
When
the man had dropped his wad of money into the sack Devon held, Caitlin stepped
back several more steps, and felt her brother’s angry gaze on her. She knew
he’d have something to say about her unusual actions later.
Hoof
beats drummed along the ground in a steady rhythm as the five outlaws rode away
from the train, strung out in a line. Caitlin could feel Devon’s furious
silence as they put some distance between them and the train. He didn’t say
anything until the train was only a small speck below and they were up on a
high ridge, and then his voice was low and tight as he rode up next to her.
"What
got into you back there, Kate?”
She
flicked him a glance and shrugged. "I don’t know. He was just so arrogant, I
guess, so cocky. I wanted to see him squirm a little bit.”
"If
he’d grabbed at you, one of us would have had to shoot him. You should never
have put yourself in that position.”
"I
know that!” Her voice was irritated, and she pulled down her mask as they rode
over the crest and out of sight of the stopped train.
"So
what are you going to do,” Devon pursued, "if that guy decides to come after
us, too?”
Her
voice was scornful. "I doubt very seriously he’ll do that. He looked—”
"He
looked,” Devon broke in in a growl, "like he wanted to strangle you! Dammit,
Caitlin, I thought you knew better than to provoke a man. It’s provocation
enough to have a man at the business end of your gun, but when you push some
men, they push back.”
"So
how do you think he’ll ‘push back’ if he can’t catch us?” she shot at her brother,
shrugging to hide her unease. There had been a definite aura of danger about
the man, and she was already beginning to regret having allowed him to provoke
her into humiliating him.
Dragging
back on his reins, Devon glared at her. "We’ve already got every lawman in the
territory after us, as well as Durant—do we need a gunslick on our trail, too?”
Her
unease grew. "Do you think that’s what he is?”
"I’d
bet my life on it.” Devon glared at her, his blue eyes narrowing. Grabbing
impatiently at the brim of his hat he pulled it off and added, "Camp’s dropped
back to see if there’s any men following us. We nailed shut the doors to the
cattle car, but since some of their guards were on the inside, you can bet they
won’t be far behind.”
"You
can bet they won’t catch us,” Caitlin muttered, and dragged her hat from her
head, letting her hair spill over her shoulders in a russet fall. It gleamed in
the Colorado sunshine, glittering with fiery lights and whipping around her
delicate face.
Without
her mask and .45, Colorado Kate could have passed for a schoolgirl. Few would
have guessed that she was almost twenty-two, or that she’d been extremely
feminine until fate had stepped in and changed the course of her life. That
former life was only a vague memory now.
The
last ten years had been spent just like this day had been—riding, robbing,
running. And it was all because of one man. G.K. Durant.
Durant.
Just his name made her throat ache with hatred. He’d killed her parents, and
tried to kill her and Devon, and she would never rest until he was dead or she
was dead. She’d vowed vengeance, and she’d done her best to see to it that he
regretted stealing not only the lives of her parents, but her heritage. Oh yes,
one day, Durant would face her again, and one of them wouldn’t walk away.
"Caitlin,”
she heard her brother say. Her gaze slid to his face. He was frowning, his blue
eyes hard as polished glass. "It’s getting dangerous for you to ride with us.”
"Excuse
me?” Her voice was cold, and her delicate brow arched so high it slid beneath
the tumble of hair over her forehead. "Just who do you think finds out which
trains Durant is using for his payroll, and when, and where, and how many
guards he has? I do, Devon. If I don’t ride, none of us ride.”
He
didn’t look at her, but stared out at the jagged ridges of the mountains
surrounding them. Snow still capped the highest peaks, and a brisk breeze
lessened the heat some, tossing Devon’s pale hair. He slapped his hat against
his open palm, then tugged it back on his head and pulled the brim low over his
eyes. His gaze swung back to her.
"It’s
getting too dangerous for you,” he repeated. "I don’t like taking chances with
you.”
"If
you’re talking about what just happened, you know very well I’ve never done
that before. Something just got into me, that’s all.”
"Something?”
There was a note of laughter in Devon’s voice as he urged his mount up a steep
slope, and he looked over at her to say, "Next time you decide to court a man,
pick one that doesn’t look like he wants to murder you! I’ll rope him, tie him
up, and present him to you—but not in the middle of a robbery!”
Spurring
her mare past her brother, Caitlin glanced back over her shoulder, her lips
parting to tell him in no uncertain terms that she had no intention of
"courting a man.” Her words died unuttered when she looked past Devon and saw
the long line of riders strung out over the slopes, and the train in the
distance, barely visible from this far, but its steam still puffing up into the
blue, blue sky. Their pursuers were closing fast, riding hell for leather, and
it looked as if they had every intention of catching them.
"Devon,”
she said in a choking gasp, and he turned in his saddle to follow her gaze.
Muttering
an oath, he reined to a halt, then motioned for the two men with them to ride
closer. He brought up an eyeglass and peered through it. "Looks like they’ve
got Camp,” he said tersely. He leaned back, reached behind him and dug into one
of his saddle bags to bring out a wad of money. "Kate, take this and ride north.”
"What?”
She stared at him, her gaze shifting from her brother to Wright and Morton, two
of their partners.
"You
know what I mean,” Devon said impatiently, "and I don’t have time to argue.
We’ve been through this before; if there’s any danger of being caught, we split
up. You know the route.”
Nodding,
she took the money and stuffed it into her pocket, then wheeled her mount
around and rode north at a rapid pace. A glance over her shoulder told her that
her brother and the other two had all split up and were riding in different
directions. A faint smile curled her mouth. It had worked before, and it would
work again. When a posse was faced with following four or five different
directions, the moments spent in brief conference were vital. But the outlaws
knew this area like they knew the back of their own hands, and could ride to
earth and not be seen.
Leaning
low over her sorrel mare’s neck, Caitlin let the horse go. She felt the hot
wind whip across her face as she rode hard. Her sombrero bounced against her
back, and she spared a moment’s regret that she’d removed it. The sun would
burn her tender skin before she reached the box canyon where they’d made their
hideout. She’d lose their pursuers. It never failed.
JAKE
LASSITER intended for it to fail this time.
While
he’d retrieved his pistol from the ground where Colorado Kate had tossed it,
he’d only half-listened to the ramblings of a fellow passenger, a nervous,
ferret-faced little man who had named the female outlaw who’d sauntered so
boldly down the aisle of the railroad car.
"She’s
said to be mean as a snake and wild as a mustang. She’s leader of the Lost
Canyon Gang, and stays that way ’cause she’s the most vicious.”
"Is
she?” Jake had murmured, and his casual reply had been misinterpreted to mean
interest.
"Yes.
Killed a dozen men, I hear, and those she doesn’t kill right off, she takes as
lovers. That man with her is her favorite lover, the way I hear it.”
Deftly
cleaning his pistol, Jake had barely listened as the man rambled on, but
something he said finally snagged Lassiter’s attention, and his gaze jerked up.
"What
was that?”
The
man seemed startled. "What was what?”
"What
you just said. About the lost canyon.”
"Oh.
It’s supposed to be around here somewhere. Guess that’s why they always seem to
attack the trains along this stretch, but say—aren’t you one of the men who was
hired as guard for this payroll?”
"Yeah.”
Jake didn’t offer any more information, and the ferret-faced man struggled with
himself for a moment before daring to ask another question.
"Then
why’d you let them get away?”
Jake’s
dark gaze lifted and focused on the man, and as he snapped his pistol shut and
slid it back into his leather holster in a lethally graceful motion, he said
softly, "Nosy little bastard, aren’t you?”
The
man paled and gulped back a reply. There was a fire in Jake’s eyes that warned
him not to push.
Pivoting
on his boot heel, Jake walked away and went to one of the back cars where his
saddled horse and companions waited. The other men had already spilled out of
the boxcar, and when Jake asked mildly what kept them, Roger Hartman pointed
sheepishly to the door that had been nailed shut.
"Seems
like they knew we were here.”
"Didn’t
keep them from robbing the train.”
"No,”
Hartman said with a shake of his head. "Guess they didn’t know about you up
front.” His gaze was slightly curious. "Why didn’t you take them?”
Stepping
into his saddle, Jake said, "The day isn’t over yet.”
As
they closed on the outlaws, Jake saw them divide and go in different
directions. He’d expected that, and waved a hand at the men behind him.
Spurring his horse, Lassiter went after the woman with streaming hair. He had a
debt to settle.
Chapter 2
WHEN
CAITLIN saw that one of the men had swerved to follow her, she felt the tight
pang of panic and tried to swallow it. This wouldn’t do. She couldn’t allow
herself to lose control. She had to keep cool and lose her pursuer, not her
head.
Nudging
the mare’s sides with her booted heels, Caitlin wheeled the animal sharply
around a clump of aspens, then down a draw, hooves thundering over the ground
as she flew like the wind. She jerked sharply left, then right, knowing the
convoluted path as well as she knew the back of her hand. The trail wound
around a rising crest, then down a steep slope, across a creek, then up a
sandstone slope before it led over hard rock and through a stand of trees. Down
the next slope and through a keyhole pass waited a box canyon, hidden from
sight by rock and brush. It was the perfect hideout, and no one had stumbled
across it in all the time they had used it.
Only,
now someone seemed in danger of doing just that. Caitlin heard the relentless
thunder of hooves behind her as she urged her mount up the crest and splashed
through the icy creek. She felt a moment’s unease, wondering if she dared risk
her brother’s safety by keeping to her course.
Sucking
in a deep breath, Caitlin leaned forward and gave her mare an encouraging pat
on her damp neck, reining in just beyond the creek. She swung down from the
saddle in a smooth, swift motion, drawing her pistol at the same time. She left
the Winchester in its saddle scabbard; her determined pursuer was too close for
her to use it. Slapping the mare on her rump, she dove behind a rock and
waited.
She
threw herself to the ground, feeling the hard scrub of rock against her stomach
and thighs, and aimed her pistol at the trail. Her heart was hammering against
her ribs in a painful rattle, and she could barely draw a steady breath.
Mechanically, she pulled her hat atop her head again and drew up the red scarf
to hide her face. No one had ever come this close before. She couldn’t help but
wonder who had been able to manage it now.
It
wasn’t as great a surprise as it might have been to see the dark-haired,
dark-eyed man she’d taunted on the train take the corner, his big bay
scrabbling up the crest. A tiny current of fear raced along her nerve endings,
and Caitlin hesitated before pulling the trigger. She’d never killed anyone
before. Even with her terrible reputation, she’d never been forced into it.
That reputation as a ruthless killer had saved her from having to take a single
life so far. So far. What should she do?
Her
pursuer saved her from having to make a decision. Some sixth sense must have
warned him of the danger waiting behind a rock, and hauling back on his reins,
he slid from the bay in a lithe movement that would have commanded Caitlin’s
admiration if she hadn’t been in such danger.
Groaning
softly as she saw him take cover, she edged closer to a grove of trees to her
left and drew her knees up under her, her breath coming hard and swift as she
tried to decide what to do. Her boot soles slid slightly on the surface of the
rock slope, then sunk into the springy turf beneath the aspens. She shoved
impatiently at the hair in front of her eyes, and cursed the scrape of rock
against her palms as she tried to see over the top of the boulder that hid her
pursuer from her sight.
Her
heart hammered painfully in her chest, making her rib cage ache with the force
of it. The man’s handsome face had looked predatory, with no laughter in his
expression. Obviously she had provoked him into coming after her. Oh God, why
had she yielded to perversity and allowed that man to prompt her into
retaliation?
Glimpsing
a movement, Caitlin tensed slightly. She drew back and aimed carefully,
intending to keep him behind the rock. She knew how to shoot. She’d trained
with Devon in those dark days after their parents’ deaths, practicing and
practicing until she was almost as good as her brother. Devon was a natural;
she had to work at it to be as good.
Her
heavy pistol jumped in her hand as she squeezed the trigger, and she felt a
spurt of satisfaction when she heard the man swear at her, heard the sound of
lead hitting rock and saw the shower of granite splinters fly. She took another
shot at him, just to keep his head down while she tried to figure out how to
get away.
A
bullet zinged over her head, much too close for comfort, showering her with
soft chunks of sandstone that peppered her cheek above the scarf she’d pulled
up to hide her face. She emptied her pistol in his direction, then sat back to
reload.
The
sun beat down relentlessly, heating her shoulders and back, burning her
ungloved hands. She swore softly. It took longer than it should have to shove
the cartridges into the empty chamber of her pistol. When she clicked the
cylinder closed, she wiped a hand across her damp forehead and squinted back at
the rock where she’d seen her pursuer take cover. Shuddering slightly, Caitlin
lay in tense silence, her pistol clutched tightly in her hand as she waited for
him to make a mistake.
Unfortunately,
her quarry didn’t wait around for her to shoot him. Circling behind her, he
caught Caitlin unaware.
"Drop
your gun,” his deep voice demanded, and when she whirled and brought up her
.45, she saw that his was already trained on her, the hammer drawn back. At
first, the cold black eye of the pistol commanded her attention, then she
looked past it.
He
was taller than she remembered, more dangerous. His lean body radiated the
confidence of a prowling panther, taut-muscled and just as sleekly deadly.
Caitlin felt her heart drop to the toes of her boots.
She
froze, sensing his grim determination in the hard set of his mouth and the cold
lights in his eyes. Waiting for him to move, she didn’t lower her pistol. His
dark eyes narrowed at her.
"I
said, drop it!”
Seeing
no mercy in those relentless black eyes, Caitlin dropped her .45 to the ground,
her fingers suddenly chill and nerveless. She lay there, half-sprawled on the
rock, heart pounding, her gaze riveted on his hard face.
A
sand-colored Stetson covered thick black hair, pulled down over his forehead to
almost meet the straight slash of his eyebrows. The black eyes looking at her
so intently had no hint of humanity in them, or maybe that was just her
overactive imagination. It was easy to imagine anything fatal when there was no
sound but the rasps of her breath in her throat and the sound of sweat
trickling down her face. She was scared, more scared than she’d ever been in
her life. And the man with the straight, arrogant nose and finely molded mouth
seemed to know it. Her fingers dug into the rock.
A
faint smile curled his lips, and he stepped forward, his boots scrunching against
the rock as he approached.
"So,
we do meet again,” he mocked her, and Caitlin’s eyes narrowed.
She decided to try for arrogance.
"Who
are you?” she demanded boldly.
"Jake
Lassiter.” He grinned at the slight widening of her eyes. "Thought you might
recognize my name. Don’t let it frighten you—I’ve never killed a woman. Yet.”
Caitlin
froze, her mind spinning. Most people knew that name. Jake Lassiter was
well-known as a ruthless gunman, a man who gave no quarter. Dear God—it was
worse than she’d thought. She cleared her throat of the sudden lump in it.
"I
take it you were hunting someone, Lassiter?”
He
shrugged. "Let’s see what’s hiding under your mask,” he said, and reached out.
She deftly avoided his hand, ducking under his outstretched arm. Half-running,
half-rolling, she made a run for it.
She
didn’t get far. He caught her easily, his long legs eating up the distance
between them. One hand caught her by the collar, yanking her backward, and
Caitlin felt her feet leave the ground as he picked her up. She swung with a
sickening, helpless motion.
"Damn
you,” she said in snarling pants, "let go of me!”
The
only reply was a faintly mocking laugh, and then he swung her around. His body
wedged her up against the rough surface of a rock. Caitlin fought him. He let
her wear herself out in a futile struggle of arms and legs, and when she
subsided, panting and furious, he shifted so that his weight held her against
the rock. His face was only inches from hers, and his hand tore away her
sombrero, then curled into the edge of her mask to drag it from her face.
Surprise
was evident in Jake Lassiter’s eyes as he stared at her. She glared back,
spitting fire with her wide green eyes. Dark russet hair spilled over her
shoulders in a gleaming fall that obscured her vision, waved over face and
throat and shoulders in the wind. He stared at her for a long moment, then let
his gaze drift slowly down.
Perspiration
had dampened her skin and shirt, and it clung snugly to her curves. Caitlin
knew with a kind of odd twinge that he could see the outline of her breasts and
darker nipples with no trouble at all. She should have worn something
underneath, but she hadn’t.
Another
unsettling warmth settled in the pit of her stomach, spreading in a slow heat
through her body. It was a heat that had nothing to do with the hot sun
overhead, or the fact that even the wind felt like a blast from a furnace.
Maybe it had something to do with the fact that the man was so close to her.
She could feel the length of him pressed against her, feel the cording of the
muscles in his arms and thighs.
And
when she looked slowly up at his face and saw her disquiet mirrored in his
eyes, she knew she was in trouble.
Their
silent battle abruptly changed to a sexual one; the angry gleam in his eyes had
altered to a hot masculine hunger that made her throat tighten with fear.
Caitlin
watched the growing heat in his eyes, and not exactly unaware of such things,
as she’d spent so much time in the company of men, she felt a sudden, sick
feeling in the pit of her stomach. She’d never lain with a man, had never
wanted to give that much of herself. But she saw in this man’s eyes the need
she’d never felt, and for some reason, felt a response that made a small,
insistent pulse throb between her legs.
Damning
herself as well as him, Caitlin managed to say in a flat, calm voice, "Get your
filthy hands off me!”
"And
if I don’t?” he mocked. "What do you intend to do about it?”
His
hands were strong; she felt the flex of his muscles beneath the restraining
hands she had on his forearms. It didn’t make her feel any better to know that
she had little chance of fighting him off.
"Kill
you the first chance I get,” she said boldly. Her narrowed gaze dared him to
laugh at her, and he didn’t.
Instead,
he brought up one hand to cup her chin in his palm, and though his gaze was
faintly amused, his voice was only objective. "That’s something no one else has
been able to do, Colorado. What makes you think you could?”
"What
makes you think I couldn’t?” she countered. She wished he wouldn’t lean against
her, his hard man’s body so intimately pressed against her curves, so close she
could feel the rise of his desire for her. She squirmed.
As
if he sensed the reason for her unease, he ground his hips against her, his
mouth curling at her gasp. She saw the flare in his dark eyes, the fires
burning hotter and hotter, and she knew that she was in more danger than she’d
ever been in before.
"Do
you intend to turn me over to the law?” she asked in a sort of gasp, one leg
drawing up to push him away. He wedged his body between her thighs with almost
contemptuous ease, and Caitlin’s eyes widened at the hard ridge nudging against
her. There was a determined look on his face that scared her, and she put her
hands up between them with a kind of desperate futility. She could smell
the heat of him in a clean wash of shaving soap and sweat that was somehow
arousing.
"I’m
thinking about it,” he replied after a moment. "I wasn’t hired by the law,
though.”
Her
gaze sharpened. "Who hired you?”
"Durant.”
"You
bastard!” One hand flashed up, and her closed fist managed to graze his jaw
before he could catch her wrist; he swore loudly, his grip punishing.
"I
take it you prefer the law to Durant,” he said in a rough growl as he bent one
of her arms behind her, and Caitlin winced against the harshness of his grip.
But his action had brought her up hard against him, and gave her an opening.
Bringing
up her knee in a reflex movement, she had the brief satisfaction of seeing his
expression change from grim intent to pain. He grunted with it, and when his
hold loosened on her arm, she jerked free and ran, her feet flying across the
ground almost as if she had wings. Her defensive reaction should have gained
her freedom, but this man recovered quickly, and caught her before she reached
her horse.
"Little
bitch,” he muttered, swinging her around by her hair, his hand tangling in it
to hold her still. When she let out a yelp of pain, his grip loosened slightly,
but he wound a bright length of her hair around his fist, slowly pulling her
toward him. She tried to pull away; he simply tugged her back, using her hair
like a tether. Caitlin winced slightly, but stared up at him defiantly as she
waited to see what he would do. She ached all over. She couldn’t remember the
last time she’d felt so brutally used.
Staring
at her, his groin aching where she’d kneed him, Jake Lassiter wondered why he
didn’t just tie her to her horse and take her back. There was more than one
reason, not the least of which was the fact that he’d been totally surprised at
seeing the pretty girl beneath the mask and sombrero.
According
to all he’d heard, Colorado Kate was a hardened woman with a leathered face and
list of lovers two miles long. This young girl with dark, fiery hair, and hot
emerald eyes certainly didn’t fit his picture of how she’d be. Colorado Kate
was supposed to have killed dozens of men, yet this girl had not even been able
to shoot when she had the advantage. He felt a moment’s doubt, but she wasn’t
denying that she was the infamous Kate, so he didn’t know quite what to do with
her. He knew it was the same outlaw who’d taunted him on the train; he
recognized those jade eyes and thick lashes.
Jake
felt the thundering beat of her heart against his chest, and knew she was
frightened of him. A faint, hard smile curled his lips. She should be. The
painful ache in his groin had altered to another kind of ache. If he did what
he wanted to do, what his body was urging him to do, he would react to the feel
of her curves. Her skin was soft beneath his hands, and there was no smell of
stale perfume or other men on her.
Jake’s
gaze narrowed slightly as she squirmed, inadvertently pressing her breasts
closer to his chest. It sparked an immediate response in him, one that made him
as angry as it did uncertain.
Maybe
he should just take what he wanted from her, then let the law decide what her
fate should be. It sounded reasonable enough, and though Jake had rarely been
drawn to women who spread themselves for any man who happened by, there was
something appealing about this young woman and her soft body and challenging
eyes.
He
swore softly and dragged his attention from the hot temptation of her curves
back to business.
Leaning
his hard body against hers to pin her to the rock again, he asked roughly, "Why
did you rob that train today?”
"Jeez,
what a stupid question! Why not?”
His
dark brows drew down in a knot at her impudent reply, and any sympathy he might
have felt began to fade. "You could try by remembering that it’s against the
law to rob trains.”
"You
work for Durant—what do you care about the law?”
"What’s
that supposed to mean?”
Caitlin’s
voice was bitter. "I think you’d know that a lot better than I would.”
"I
might go easy on you if you’ll talk. Where’s the rest of your gang? And your
hideout?” The mutinous stare she gave him was indicative of the answers he
would receive and Lassiter shrugged. "Fine. Stay quiet. I don’t give a damn.
I’m getting paid to stop Colorado Kate and I guess that’s who I’m taking back
with me.”
Caitlin’s
face reflected shock, dismay, then a dull acceptance of fate.
"You’re
taking me to Durant?” she asked softly, and closed her eyes when he paused,
then nodded. Well. So this was really the end. She had no illusions as to
Durant’s intentions. He’d kill her just as ruthlessly as he’d killed her
parents.
"Care
to tell me where I can find the Lost Canyon Gang?” Jake asked after a moment,
and she opened her eyes to glare at him with such obvious contempt that his
mouth twisted wryly. "Guess not.”
He
was too close—much too close! She could see every feature of the face only
inches from hers and feel the hard detail of his man’s body pressing into her,
insinuating and strong and vaguely frightening. His dark brows swooped low over
his black eyes like a hawk’s wings, and his chiseled lips were pressed into a
straight, harsh line. Thick lashes shielded his eyes from her for a moment,
lowering in an inky brush, then lifting again.
After
a moment, he curled his fingers around her wrists and straightened, pulling her
up with him. Caitlin stared at him warily, seeing in his dark, reflective gaze
something she didn’t recognize. The sun beat down in a blaze of heat; a hot,
dry wind blew, lifting her hair to drift around her face, yet she felt a sudden
shiver.
To
her sudden, intense surprise, Lassiter lowered his head and kissed her. His
mouth moved slowly over hers, a heated press of lips that made her stiffen with
resistance.
She
jerked away as if burned. "What are you doing?!”
Lean
fingers grabbed her chin to hold her still. "I’m kissing you, what’d you think
I was doing—branding you? Hold still. You’ve done this before. Relax and enjoy
it.”
"No—no
I won’t!”
"Bet
you’re wrong on that,” he said softly, and before she could move, he brought
his mouth down over hers again. As he continued kissing her, drawing unwilling
response from somewhere deep inside her, Caitlin felt her iron-held control
slipping. Crazy. It was crazy to allow him to get to her, to allow him to kiss
her, but her head was falling back and her eyes closing as he kissed her mouth,
kissed the rapid pulse fluttering in the hollow of her throat, then that soft
spot beneath her ear. Her hands worked, fingers convulsively clutching the
material of his shirt in small, reflex motions.
Jake
felt the slight rippling of her muscles against him and knew the reason. He
briefly considered not acting upon his inclinations, then dismissed such
concerns. It was not as if this was an untried girl he held in his arms, and in
spite of himself, he felt a strong attraction for her. It was as perplexing as
it was irritating, and he decided that there was no point in denying himself
what he wanted. Her blond lover would just have to share. Jake liked the way
she felt against him even while she tried to avoid his kisses; he liked the
bold way she had showed her interest in him earlier, unbuttoning his shirt and
rubbing her hands across him, even in front of her lover. Yeah, why not taste
what she’d so freely offered before he’d made her mad?
He
lifted his head and looked down at her flushed face. A faint grin squared his
mouth as he asked, "Got any weapons hidden on you, Colorado?”
Flinging
back her head, she stared up at him, and her throat worked. "Don’t you dare
touch me!”
"How
else am I gonna find any hidden weapons?” One hand tugged at the buttons on her
blouse in the same way she had taunted him, and she knocked his hand away. He
only laughed as he curled his hand around her small-boned wrists in a
relentless grip. He pulled her arms behind her in a move that thrust her
breasts out at him. Caitlin felt as exposed as if she were naked.
His
voice was taunting. "Got any guns hidden in your shirt, maybe? A man can’t be
too careful...”
Her
skin tingled, and she bit her lip to keep from making any sound as he ran a
light hand over her breasts. His touch made that dreadful, insistent pulse
between her legs ache again. Her nipples tightened, pushing at the thin
material of her blouse in a provocative pout. The air in her lungs seemed to
just disappear, and when his fingers grazed the peak of her breast, she squeezed
her thighs tightly together to stop the sharp ache. She was shaking and felt
like she’d swallowed all the dust in Colorado.
Jake
shifted slightly, spreading his legs for balance; he held her hands behind her,
using his free hand to stroke her squirming body. He was breathing fast now.
Circling the rigid peak of her breast with his thumb and forefinger, he watched
her through narrowed eyes as he pulled gently at her nipple. She couldn’t seem
to stop the quick, ragged drags of air into her tortured lungs, or the small
moan.
Caitlin
wanted to scream at him, to sob with frustration and some other raging emotion
inside her, but she didn’t dare make a sound that he might interpret as
weakness. Or encouragement. Everything around them had faded into a dim haze;
the only reality was Jake Lassiter, and the hand that was drifting from her
breast to the throbbing between her thighs. He touched her lightly, and a spear
of heat shot through her. She closed her eyes as an involuntary shudder racked
her body.
Damn,
her body seemed to have taken off on its own. Her thighs spread slightly as if
to allow him entrance, to help the rhythmic stroke of his hand that only made
the throb there worse. This time she couldn’t hold back a soft moan.
She
opened her eyes with an effort, and looked up into the dark face watching her
closely. There was an exultant light in his eyes that made her flush, made her
resistance return in a flood. Caitlin spat a rejection at him without the least
hope that he’d listen.
"Get
your hands off me!”
"All
in good time, Colorado, all in good time,” he said softly. He pulled her away
from the rock and dragged her along with an ease that infuriated her. He
ignored her efforts to fight him as he took her to the shady bower of the aspen
grove where she’d hidden earlier. Jake forced her down to the ground and lay
half-atop her, his weight pinning her down on a cushion of fallen leaves. He
still held his pistol in one hand, and he laid it down just out of her reach,
laughing at her longing glance toward it.
"Don’t
even think about it, Colorado,” he murmured, and he drew a lazy finger over the
curve of her jaw. His hand brushed away burnished tendrils of hair from her
mutinous eyes, and their gazes met and locked.
Caitlin
saw her fate in his eyes, in the lustrous dark gleam beneath the straight
brows, and grew still. She had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of
defeating her, but neither would she give him the satisfaction of pleading for
mercy. It wasn’t as if she didn’t know what went on between men and women;
after all, she lived in a camp of men, and heard them in the night with their
women. Even Devon, though he was discreet because of his sister, had his women.
Caitlin had always ignored them with a kind of lofty contempt, not
understanding why a woman would yield her body to a man for the brief pleasure
it gave him. She’d heard the contempt in the men’s voices later for their easy
surrender.
She
wouldn’t give him the same opportunity. He may take her, but she wouldn’t make
it easy. Summoning the strength from somewhere deep inside, she twisted and
kicked and swore at him, taking him by surprise. Apparently, he had thought her
stunned complaisance was willingness. Caitlin wasn’t certain it hadn’t been,
but whichever, she’d changed her mind now.
Swearing
back at her, Jake Lassiter levered his body over hers so that he fit her from
breast to ankle, clamping her thighs between his muscled legs in a firm grasp.
"You
blow hot and cold, huh?” he muttered. "Or do you just like it rough?”
Not
quite understanding what he meant, Caitlin said in between gasps for air, "I
don’t like it at all!”
That
seemed to amuse him. He drew back slightly to look at her. His features were
shaded by the overhanging trees and the brim of his hat, and she couldn’t see
the expression in his eyes as she arched her slender curves against him in an
effort to escape. She turned her face away when he tried to kiss her again.
Dragging
her face ruthlessly back to him, he held her by her arms, his mouth only inches
from hers as he muttered hotly, "I know I’m not the first, and probably won’t
be the last, but you won’t forget me. Share some of your honey with me, sweet
Kate.”
Before
she could reply, his mouth covered hers in a hot, drugging kiss, stealing her
resistance, inhaling her very soul. Caitlin shuddered, feeling his body press
her back onto the mossy ground, his legs wedging between her thighs. His hands
were at the buttons of her shirt, and she felt the cool air whisk across her
breasts as he opened her shirt. His hot, moist mouth captured the peak of a
breast in a searing kiss.
Tremors
of shock racked her body. No man had ever tried to kiss her there—none had
dared. But this man was, and it sent currents of jolting response through her
body that confused and frightened her.
"What
are you doing?” she demanded shakily, batting at his head, knocking off his hat
and yanking at his hair until he grabbed her wrists again and dragged her arms
over her head. "That’s indecent!”
His
tongue traced the outline of her beaded nipple in lightning flicks, and he
watched her face as he moved to the other breast, the incredulous expression
slowly being replaced by uncertain pleasure. She obviously had not had much
experience with the finer points of passion, Jake decided. Her lovers had
probably been quick and clumsy, and for some reason, he wanted to show her what
she’d missed. This would be no quick release; this would be a lingering passion
that she would remember for a long time.
Slowly,
deliberately, he stroked her slender curves, his hands unbuttoning her trousers
and sliding beneath the waistband, caressing the silky skin. Heat waves
shimmered around them, but the heat that was growing in Jake began to overpower
even the sun’s fierce intensity.
"Open
your mouth for me,” he muttered against her lips, and when she turned her head
away, he drew it gently back. His lean fingers gripped her chin, forcing her
lips to part for him, and he covered them quickly when she gasped with rage,
his tongue sliding inside. Stabbing inside her mouth with deep, penetrating
strokes, he slid one hand down to her breast again, his thumb and finger
teasing her into the writhing response that he sought.
That
was it, that was what he wanted—her soft moans of pleasure, the helpless
surrender and sensual undulation of her hips arching against him. God, she was
sweet, in spite of her way of life, in spite of who she was; it was a
contradiction he couldn’t explain.
Briefly
lifting his head, Jake stared down at her for a long moment. Her face was
flushed, her eyes smoky and her lips bruised and slightly swollen from his
kisses. She looked confused, even shocked, though he knew she couldn’t be. For
an instant, Jake wondered why he wanted her. If only half of what he’d heard
was true, she was used to bargaining this way.
But
there was something... something that lured him to her,
something besides the obvious allure of her body and face. A frown knit his
brow as the answer eluded him, then he forgot it when she began to struggle
again.
Her
long legs kicked out, and he quickly held them down with his own, shifting
slightly so that his weight held her. This game he knew, this one had rules he
understood. It was a game he’d played frequently, with a number of willing
partners.
His
dark head lowered, and his mouth covered her lips in a lingering kiss as his
hands explored her body, and he could feel her shiver in spite of the heat.
Jake kissed the small, throbbing pulse at the base of her throat, then her
temples before returning to her mouth, and this time she opened for him
willingly, returning the thrusts of his tongue in an inexperienced but eager
duel.
Caitlin
knew very little about kissing; all her previous experiences had been clumsy,
inept efforts that left her cold. But this was different. This was no clumsy
boy who held her now, but a man who knew how to awaken that hidden part of her.
And he obviously knew it. It was as frightening as it was intriguing. And when
he tucked her more closely against him, Caitlin suddenly understood all the
overheard whispers in the night, the laughter and fumblings that had so often
left her feeling awkward and uneasy.
Shifting
his long body between her thighs, Jake pressed his erection against her woman’s
mound, and she stiffened with shock at his arousal. She wasn’t so innocent she
didn’t know what that meant, what it presaged. The realization was like a blast
of cold water in her face, awakening her from a sensual haze to the reality of
her danger.
Arching
against him, she cried out. She hated him and ached for him at the same time,
and thought that she must be mad. His hands cupped her slender hips, lifting
her to press himself harder against the notch of her thighs, and though Caitlin
had wanted to resist him, she could not. There were emotions raging inside her
that she didn’t recognize, couldn’t understand. Her body seemed to be following
some course of its own.
When
she felt his hand at her trousers, flicking open the last button that held them
around her slender hips, Caitlin knew she was lost. There would be no reprieve
from what he had in mind.
Jake
scrubbed his palms over her sweet, soft skin and didn’t stop to think about
anything but possessing this enticing form beneath him. When he shoved his
hands up her blouse to pull it away, he tested the ripe weight of her breasts;
he skimmed her body with a feathery touch until his fingers tangled in the
waistband of her snug-fitting trousers. He pulled them down gently, taking her
boots with them; he saw the silky russet nest of curls at the juncture of her
thighs, and bent his dark head to press kisses over her belly.
Lost
in heated discovery, Caitlin shivered, thinking that it was just as well she
experience life before she faced death. Why not? She already knew what Durant
would do; her life would be ended without her ever having really lived. She
shouldn’t have to die before she’d tasted life, she thought distractedly.
Maybe
it was fate that they had met. If Jake Lassiter was to be the instrument of her
death, he should be the instrument of her awakening.
Jake
wasn’t thinking beyond the moment. All he knew was that he wanted this warm
female, this alluring creature with the infamous reputation and the enticing
body. As he pulled away her clothes, he felt the hot slap of a passion that
he’d never felt so strong before. It had to be the unusual circumstances. There
was no other reason he would feel this surging drive to bury himself inside a
woman he’d been sent to bring to justice.
Sunlight
drifted over them, weaving through the lacy branches of the trees, gilding the
girl’s body with golden light. Jake rose to his knees, straddling her, tearing
at his shirt, unbuttoning his pants and shoving them down. He wanted her
beneath him, wanted to feel her close around him and hear soft, husky cries in
his ear.
Staring
up at him, Caitlin’s throat grew tight with fear. His hard-muscled body was
powerful, and as he pushed impatiently at his pants and she saw the full force
of him, she shut her eyes against it. She’d never seen a completely naked man
before, and she was suddenly terrified. How could her small body accept this
huge one? It couldn’t be done...
His
hard lean thighs nudged her legs apart, and when he pressed close, she
stiffened.
"No!”
she couldn’t help saying at the painful intimacy of his intrusion, and pushed
fiercely against his chest with the heels of her hands.
"It’s
too late for that,” Jake muttered against her ear, and curled his fingers
around her wrists to drag her arms over her head. His mouth lowered to capture
her lips again, and his tongue slipped through the barrier to fence hotly with
hers. It explored in heated strokes that left Caitlin quivering.
The
heat grew again, coiling inside her, spreading in slow, molten waves through
her body. Along with the heat, a throbbing ache pounded, an ache she couldn’t
explain but knew he could ease, and to her vague shame, she felt her hips lift
and press closer to him, to the very thing that threatened her. It was madness
of a kind she had never imagined.
"Please...”
she heard herself say, and was vaguely ashamed that she’d yielded to the urge to
plead.
"Kiss
me.” Jake’s fingers gripped her chin when she tried to turn her head away, and
held it still. "Kiss me, dammit...”
A
dizzying emotion consumed her, and even though she knew that she was embracing
him with willing arms, Caitlin did her best to keep her emotions aloof.
His
bare chest grated against her naked breasts, and she felt the abrasive scrape
of his thick pelt against her sensitive nipples. When she would have moaned a
protest, his mouth lowered to seize her lips, holding them hostage as his
tongue plundered her mouth with swift, tantalizing thrusts that made her belly
ache with that consuming fire. The moist, aching throb between her thighs grew
more intense, and Caitlin began to feel as if she’d lost every bit of control
over her body.
The
steamy heat between her legs was unbearable; Jake slid a hand down to touch her
there, and she wanted to scream with the shock of it. His bare fingers against
the soft folds of flesh were like fire. He rubbed her until she gasped and
arched upward again, until she was whimpering with need. Something waited just
out of reach, a prize that he held the key to, a release from the raging
torment that made her reach for him.
Jake
stroked her until she felt the gathering rush of a hot wave that was like nothing
she’d ever felt before; she cried out with it, strained toward it, met it and
felt the exquisite shattering of a sensation so strong it was almost like pain.
She thought she’d die with it. Only vaguely aware that her thighs had parted
even more for his hand, that she was arching up toward him, Caitlin cried out
when he took his hand away.
His
voice was hot and husky in her ear. "It’s not over. I’m not through.”
Panting,
her breasts shivered with the effort of her breathing. She couldn’t stop her
urgent movements, the almost frantic motion of her hips, and then he was over
her again. His scrub-board-hard belly raked against the mound of her stomach in
a tantalizing, erotic motion as he moved up, and Caitlin felt the hot, smooth
nudge of him between her thighs. She closed her eyes to shut out the sight of
his taut, intent expression.
Surely
this wasn’t happening to her; this hard-eyed man who intended to turn her over
to Durant after he was through with her—was she actually lying naked and
unbearably intimate with him? And worst of all—she was helping him. Her thighs
had parted as if waiting eagerly for his assault, and she was kissing him back.
The
velvety steel heat of his body between her thighs grew more insistent. Caitlin
moaned softly, then bit her lips to stifle the sound.
Jake
released her wrists, but she didn’t try to fight him. His hands cupped beneath
her hips to lift her slightly. Guiding his body with one hand, he pressed
forward, muttering soothing words as if she was a fractious horse he was trying
to gentle. Caitlin’s body arched upward, her shoulders scrubbing against the
cushion of leaves with a rustling crackle as she felt the burning invasion; it
grew sharper, painful, almost intolerable, and she tried to throw him off. He
caught her wrists again, and pinned her arms over her head, making her cry out
as the movement brought his body harder against her.
"Stop!
That hurts...”
Panting,
Jake lifted his head and stared down at her with a slight frown. She handled
like a virgin, but she couldn’t be. Not Colorado Kate, as notorious for her
lovers as she was for her robberies. Of course, his fevered brain told him in a
surge of practicality, she’d also been notorious for having a leathery
complexion and being as hard as Belle Starr. That information had been
obviously wrong...
He
kissed her again, kissed her until she quieted. There was a taut strain to her
body as he held her, as he levered on his elbows to lessen the press of his
weight. A hot, bewildered light glittered in the green eyes staring back at
him, and he briefly wondered why before he bent to kiss her again. She
shouldn’t be this tense.
"Take
it easy, Colorado,” he muttered thickly against her ear, easing his body deeper
into her tight passage. It occurred to him that the fabled outlaw seductress
shouldn’t be this tight, this frightened of what he was doing, but his body was
screaming at him to finish what he’d begun, and Jake was determined.
Caitlin’s
entire body was throbbing, partly with pain, partly with an odd kind of pleasure.
The pain supplanted the pleasure after a moment; she had only an instant’s
warning when she felt his muscles tense, then he lunged forward in a driving
thrust that made her entire frame shudder and tore a scream from her throat;
through the haze of pain that enveloped her, she heard him swear softly. He
lifted his head to glare down at her.
"Dammit,”
he said in a low growl, his eyes narrowing, "why didn’t you tell me you were a
virgin?”
"You
didn’t bother to ask,” she said through stiff, cold lips. Pinned by his body,
Caitlin tried to draw in a steady breath and couldn’t. She felt completely
overwhelmed by him. He was deep inside her, over her, around her, and all she
could feel and see and smell was Jake. If she tried to move the slightest bit,
she felt the sharp ache of his hard body inside her; it kept her still, and she
flicked up her lashes to look at his face. His expression was taut.
Jake
swore again. "Idiot,” he muttered. "I wouldn’t have gone this far if I’d
known.”
"So.
Now you know.” Caitlin couldn’t keep her eyes on him. There was something too
painfully intimate about meeting his gaze when his body was joined with hers.
Why hadn’t she ever thought about how intimate sex could be. It had
never been something she’d allowed herself to think on too much, and now here
she was—coupling with a man whom she’d never known existed until a few hours
earlier.
When
he shifted slightly she winced, and hoped he didn’t think she was weak. Her
mouth tightened as her body began to adjust to the aching fullness of having
him inside her. She tried to relax.
There
wasn’t any way she could relax completely; he was obviously going to finish
what he’d started, and she had no choice but to follow. But what was defeating
was the fact that her body ached for his touch, for him to ease the tension
he’d sparked inside her.
Caitlin
looked up at him, deciding in that moment that what was done was done and she
might as well derive some sort of satisfaction from it.
"Well?”
she demanded, wriggling her hips. "Is this all there is to it?”
He
stared down at her incredulously. Then a small smile began to curl his hard,
chiseled mouth, and he shook his head. "No, sweetheart, this isn’t
all...”
