Читать книгу Montana Passions - Allison Leigh - Страница 14

“We…have to…be careful…” He whispered the words between quick, hungry kisses.

She nodded. “Oh. Yes. Careful. You’re so right.”

His mouth closed on hers again, drugging. Magical. She slid her hands up his broad chest to wrap them around his neck, and he caught her wrists. He guided them down, so her arms were straight at her sides.

His fingers slipped over the backs of her hands and he wove them between hers, lightly rubbing—in and out and in again, never quite clasping, flesh brushing flesh, little tingles of excitement zipping through her with every featherlight caress. All the while, as his fingers teased hers, he kissed her, his tongue sweeping her mouth, his lips hot and soft and oh-so-tender.

She moaned as he finally twined his fingers with hers, tightening, curling his hands to fists, so her hands were cradled in his palms, her fingers captured between his. A thoroughly willing captive, she smiled against his lips as he guided her hands around behind her.

Their joined fists resting at the small of her back, he kissed her some more. She sighed at the wonder of it, and gave her mouth up to his.

After forever of the two of them kissing and kissing as if they would never stop, he began walking her backward.

She stumbled at first, surprised. A giddy laugh escaped her; he chuckled in response.

Quickly, she regained her balance, and, as he guided her, she backed up toward the open door to the central room. It was like a dance, a beautiful, slow, erotic dance.

He waltzed her through the open doorway, his mouth locked to hers. On they went, slow, delicious step by slow step, to the turn in the roped-off walkway, and then down toward the wide, high bed that had once graced a guest room at the Lazy D.

There, with only a stretch of rope keeping them from the waiting bed, he paused. She swayed in his hold, her mouth fused to his.

A small cry of loss escaped her when he lifted his head. He eased his strong fingers free of hers and stepped back.

“We should stop now.”

For a suspended moment, she gazed up into his gleaming eyes. And then, with a sigh, she rested her head on his shoulder. “You know, you keep saying that.”

His arms closed around her, tight and warm. She felt the sweet brush of his lips in her hair as she breathed in the scent of him: of the motel-issue shampoo they’d both used, of his clean skin and a faint hint of the inexpensive aftershave he’d found in the brown bag. “I know I keep saying it,” he muttered against her hair. “I just don’t seem to be listening to myself when I say it.”

She lifted her head and captured his blue, blue gaze again. Boldly, she suggested, “We could just go ahead and slip under the rope. We could kick off our shoes, stretch out on the bed…”

His arms dropped away. “And then what?”

She swallowed. “Well, and then, we could…take it from there.”

“Take it from there,” he repeated, gruffly. “I’d like that. Way too much. But we can’t lose our heads here. We’ve got to be sensible.”

Now she was the one repeating after him. “Sensible.”

“That’s what I said.”

“I have to admit, I don’t feel all that sensible recently. Not since I met you.”

That brought a smile to his beautiful mouth. “All my fault, then.”

She tipped her chin higher. “No. This thing between us, it’s fifty-fifty. You’re not leading me anywhere I don’t want to go.”

He studied her face for a long moment—long enough that she felt a blush begin to burn her cheeks. And then he said flatly, “I’ve got no condoms. I don’t suppose you do?”

“Uh. No. Sorry.” She looked down, not embarrassed, exactly, but definitely feeling in over her head.

He put a finger under her chin and made her look at him again. “It’s something that has to be considered.”

“Oh, I know. You’re right. I just…well, we could be careful, couldn’t we?”

He swore under his breath. “I keep telling myself the same thing. But I don’t feel all that damn careful, and that’s the hard truth. Once I get my arms around you, caution flies right out the door.”

“I could…be cautious for us.” Even as she suggested it, she knew that wouldn’t work. When he kissed her, words like careful and caution vanished from her vocabulary.

He gave her a rueful smile. “No doubt about it. Time to go out and check on that mean mare.”

The snow stopped around seven. They were sitting at the table eating applesauce and more of the never-ending sandwiches, when Katie looked across at the light in the Lockwood’s window and realized there was no curtain of white obscuring it.

Justin noticed, too. “Tomorrow we can probably start digging out.”

“Hey, the phone may even be working soon.” She’d checked it just a half an hour before. “And if the snow doesn’t start in heavy again, the plow should get to us by tomorrow sometime.”

“And we’ll be free.”

They stared at each other across the expanse of the tabletop. “Free…” She repeated the word softly. And somehow, she couldn’t keep from sounding forlorn.

She looked out the window again, at that golden light from the house across the museum yard.

No question that stale sandwiches, wearing other people’s ill-fitting cast-off clothes, and sponge baths at the sink in the ladies’ room got old very fast. She’d be grateful for a shower, something different to eat, her own clothes to wear. And more than any of those minor inconveniences, it would be a huge relief to know that everyone she cared about had come through the unexpected blizzard safe and sound.

But still. They had made themselves a private little world here, in the center of the storm. She would miss it—miss just the two of them, all alone. Talking through the night. Kissing. Laughing together. And kissing some more…

She would miss it a lot.

Would she see Justin again, once they were out of here?

She frowned. Well, of course she would. Really, she didn’t need to even ask herself the question.

They had a…connection, something special going on between them. She felt it in her bones. This was different from anything she’d known before. Even after what had happened with Ted Anders and Jackson Tully, she had no doubts about Justin.

None at all.

He spoke then. “For someone who’s probably going to be out of this place tomorrow, you’re looking pretty glum.”

She turned from the golden light across the way to meet his waiting eyes. “I want to see you again, when this is over. Do you want to see me?” She was proud, of the steadiness of her voice, that she’d put her own intention right out there, hadn’t waited for him to make the first move, handing him all the power and then hoping he’d give her a call.

Oh, yes. Katie Fenton, a cliché no more.

“I do want to see you again. I want that very much.”

Her heart leaped—and then something in his eyes spoke to her. Something…not right. “But?”

He blinked. “No buts. I want to see you when we get out of here.”

And I will. She thought the words he didn’t say.

The silence stretched out. Painful. Empty. She wanted to demand, And will you? But somehow, that seemed one step too far. He should say it of his own accord, or not at all.

She wanted him. She cared for him. She had no doubt that he wanted and cared for her.

Would it go any further than that?

That secret something behind his eyes was telling her no. “Justin?”

“Yeah?”

“Is there…something else you want to say to me?”

Justin looked at the incredible woman across from him and never wanted to look away.

His chest felt tight—as if something strong and relentless was squeezing it. His gut twisted.

The urge was there, in his clenched gut and his tight chest—an urge almost too powerful to deny.

To tell her everything. To throw over his carefully constructed plans.

To lay it all out for her: what Caleb really was to him and how he meant to make the older man pay for the cruel things he’d done.

To hit her with the whole truth: how from the first night fate threw them together, he’d felt the heat between them and decided to make use of it, to toss her into the mix. How he’d purposely set out to take advantage of the situation, and of her.

It was crazy, even to think he might open his mouth and…

No.

He wasn’t going to blow it. He’d waited too long to get to the man who’d ruined his mother’s hope and happiness. He had to remember…

All of it. The times she didn’t come home until he was sick with fear and worry. The nights she was home, when he’d wake and have that strange, lost feeling and come out of his room to find her at the kitchen table or curled up on the couch, her eyes swollen and red from crying, the end of her cigarette glowing like a burning eye in the dark.

He had to remember…

The suicide attempts. The never-ending new starts that always went wrong. Caleb’s name on her lips like an unanswered prayer the day that she died…

Of lung cancer. She never would give up those damn cigarettes until the last few months of her life. And by then it was too late. Lung cancer got her—but Caleb Douglas killed her as sure as if he’d put a gun to her head and pulled the trigger.

Caleb Douglas broke her heart and she never did find a way to mend it again. Justin, just a kid, had been powerless to help her.

He wasn’t powerless anymore.

And damned if he was giving up now.

He was set on a course and it was a just course. What he would do was perfectly legal; he had the power now—power Caleb himself had put in his hands—and he would use it.

In the end, if all went according to plan, there would be big profits for everyone. Including Caleb.

That was the beauty of it. Everybody would win.

At least in terms of the bottom line.

He only wished…

Wished.

It was a word for fools, for helpless little boys who spent too much time alone, for boys with no fathers, whose mothers too seldom came home…

He wasn’t a little boy anymore.

And he wasn’t going to spew his guts to anyone—not even to sweet Katie Fenton who was turning out to be a hell of a lot more woman than he’d ever bargained for.

Those amber eyes were still waiting.

He couldn’t stand the disappointment he saw in them. “I want to see you when we get out of here, Katie. I want to see you and I will.”

And I will.

Now, where the hell had that come from?

He’d been so careful. He’d never actually lied to her.

Not until now.

But then again, he did want to see her again.

Though he knew damn well he shouldn’t, he wanted to keep on seeing her. He wanted…

A whole hell of a lot more with her than he was ever going to get.

He shouldn’t have lied. But the words were out now. No calling them back. In future, he’d just have to keep a closer watch on his tongue.

He silently vowed he would do just that as she watched him with worried eyes.