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Authors: Sylvia McDaniel

BOOK: Deadly
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Nick ignored Zach and turned to Meg. “I haven’t met your lady friend. My name is Nick Hargrove. I own the local stable.”

“Oh, our horses are there right now. Meg McKenzie,” Meg said, shaking his hand.

Zach could feel his lips tighten. Nick had his eyes on Meg. He’d better not say anything that would screw this up for Zach. He watched the man’s eyes linger on her, and he wanted to jump up and smack him.

“Thanks for the business.” Nick turned to Zach. “How’s your mother doing? I’m sure she’s upset—”

Zach quickly interrupted him. “Mom’s great. I hope to get by to see her in the next few days. How about your mom? How’s she doing?” he asked, trying to change the direction of the conversation.

The waitress delivered their dinner, and Zach had never been more glad to see food interrupt a conversation.

“Well, I’ll let you folks eat. Good night,” Nick said and walked away.

“Your mother lives close by?” Meg asked.

“She lives about a half day’s ride from here,” he replied, wishing Nick had kept that bit of information to himself. Somehow, he needed to them to talk about anything other than his family. “I know your mom passed away when you were young. Do you have a tintype of her?”

“Nothing. Except my memories and I cherish those,” she said, taking a bite of her food. “What about your mom? Tell me about her. You told me she ruled your house with an iron fist.”

He shrugged, not wanting to talk about his only parent or the past. “When you have four rambunctious boys, you have no choice but to make certain they know who’s in charge.”

“I wanted brothers,” she said.

“I wanted sisters,” he replied. “And every time mother had a boy. But my brothers are important to me.” Zach feared being this near to his mother. He didn’t want to run into her. It was bad enough the owner of the stable had stopped by and acted like he knew Zach. Meg was no fool.

“Were your parents happy before your mother died?” he asked.

“Very. Of course, Papa was gone a lot, and it was just the three of us and mother. When he came home, my mother would be so excited to see him. There would be laughter, and we would have such a great time until he left again,” she said with a sigh. “Papa was only gone for about four months a year. When spring came, he always came home and worked the farm. When money got tight again, he’d go hunting.”

The waitress came by and refilled their water glasses. Zach had barely touched his dinner; instead of concentrating on the food, he’d focused on Meg. He reached across the table, unable to stop himself, and touched her hand. The feel of her soft skin sent tremors straight to his groin. She raised her eyes to his, questioning as he rubbed the back of her hand.

“You’re not eating,” she remarked.

“I’m full.” How could he tell her the hunger he felt had nothing to with food and everything to do with her? He knew she was off limits, even if she was just across the hall.

She pushed her plate back and stared at him. “Last year, when we were talking about marriage, I never even considered your family. At the time, there was so much on my mind with Papa’s death and the bank mortgage. I just never thought about how we would be joining our families.”

He shrugged. “I knew your family. Everyone in town knows the McKenzies.”

They weren’t known in a bad way, but rather considered to be eccentric—their father for his strong bounty hunting skills, their mother for her fierce independent nature up until the day she’d died. Each one of the girls had some small piece of gossip tied to them. Something that would make you sit back and reconsider them.

“Yeah, well, sometimes we’re well known for reasons that are not so good.”

“The Gillespie boys could get into trouble as well.” He continued to rub his fingers across the back of her hand, and all he could think about was how much he’d like to slowly peel the layers of clothing from Meg. One by one, he’d like to unwrap her new garments from her and explore her womanly body from head to toe.

She looked at him, her green eyes darkening, and he knew she could feel the tension building between them. “Let’s order dessert.”

Zach signaled the waitress over, and Meg ordered apple pie. When the waitress set it down before her, he watched her break off a piece with her fork and place the sweet fruit in her mouth. She closed her eyes, her tongue trailing across her lips for crumbs, and for a moment, he thought he would carry her out of that restaurant and back down the street to their hotel. He could imagine carrying her up the stairs and into his room, where he would throw her down on the bed and rip the clothing from her body.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and released it slowly, trying to bring the rush of pleasure under control. This night couldn’t last much longer without him exploding.

“Zach,” she said, her voice a delicate whisper that seemed to caress his skin.

He opened his eyes, and she held her fork to his mouth. Like a bird, his mouth gaped, and she slid the fork between his lips, giving him a bite of the hot apple pie. “That’s delicious.”

“Really tasty. Am I am boring you?” she asked. “Are you about to fall asleep on me again?”

God, if only this woman knew what she did to him. She’d realize he was struggling to keep from acting like a savage and carrying her away. “Never, Meg. Never. Let’s just say watching you eat that dessert is getting to me.”

Her brow furrowed like she didn’t understand. He smiled and leaned across the table. “I love the way you relish your pie, and I can only think of how much I’d enjoy you.”

Her emerald eyes widened then darkened with the realization of what he meant. She picked up her fork and placed it between her lips and savored the pie once again, licking her lips.

Zach groaned. “Meg, you’re pushing me.”

She smiled. “Am I? I’ve never pushed a man before. Is this how it’s done?”

She’d never had the opportunity to flirt and thank God! She was a dangerous woman when she dressed like a woman and tried out her feminine wiles on him.

Zach motioned to the waitress. “Check, please.”

Meg leaned across the table, her breasts pushing against her dress. “What are we going to do now?”

Oh, that was a question he’d love to answer his way. “I’m going to take you back to the hotel, kiss you senseless, and then lock you in your room.” There was so much more he’d like to do, but he would be wise to take a step back and let the embers she’d ignited cool. For once she learned the truth, she’d be madder than momma bear in springtime.

“Are you certain you can stay awake?” she teased.

Even the thought of sleep was something he knew would be elusive. “Oh, honey, sleep is going to be very difficult tonight. I’d say damn near impossible.”

She smiled. “If I decide to let you kiss me, I’ll keep that in mind.”

The waitress brought the check, and Zach quickly paid her. Oh, she would be kissing Zach if he had anything to say. He planned on showing this woman the power of his lips.

He stood and offered Meg his hand. She took it and gazed at him that way that had his heart doing a wicked dance. A mischievous smile graced her face like she knew exactly what she was doing.

“I think you need to go back to wearing pants. You’re a lot safer than when you wear a dress.”

Meg cocked her head at him, her emerald eyes giving him an uncertain look. “How is that?”

“You’re not a seductive wench who flirts with me over dinner and then teases me when she eats dessert.” Entwining her hand through his arm, he strolled with her out of the restaurant.

“You poor man. You’ve been mistreated all evening. How should I make this up to you?”

Zach could think of a half dozen ways, and they all started and ended in the bedroom. But the chances were pretty good Meg was a virgin. “You can kiss me.”

She reached over and gave him a peck on the cheek as they walked down the sidewalk. His cheek burned where her lips had touched. Heat spiraled through him, and he pulled her tight against his body. “That wasn’t exactly the kind of kiss I wanted.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she teased and brought the back of his hand up to her lips. She kissed him and let her tongue trail across his skin, sending shivers racing down his spine. God, he was going to grab her and carry her to his room if she didn’t stop teasing him.

They entered the hotel, and he tried to appear normal, though his pants were tight against his erection, and he was certain his face was flushed with excitement from Meg’s kiss. “You know you’re playing with fire,” he said. “I’m going to get my kiss.”

They took the stairs slowly, as she lifted the front of her skirt to reveal her boots beneath her dress. She turned those velvet green eyes on him, and he thought he would be scorched from the heat reflected in her gaze.

“Better know how to put out a fire,” she said softly.

“Oh, honey, I can quench a flame,” he promised.

She smiled as they walked down the hall. He noticed a note hanging on his door and grabbed it, stuffing it in his pocket. He wasn’t interested in reading any notes right now. Not with Meg’s hand on his arm. She turned toward her door and pulled a key out of her reticule. With a twist, she unlocked the door and twisted the knob.

Glancing back over her shoulder at him, she smiled. “Good night, Zach.”

He grabbed her arm, pulled her toward him until she slammed against his chest. “Not so fast. I think you owe me this.”

He covered her mouth with his, his tongue sliding between her lips, his arms wrapping around her pulling her close. This woman had made him crazy during dinner tonight. He’d wanted to swipe the table clear of dishes and lay her down, push her skirts to her waist, and have his way with her right there in the restaurant. The thought had crossed his mind more than once.

He pushed her against the doorframe, pressing his body into hers, letting her feel his erection that was filling his head full of images of the two of them—her body gleaming in the moonlight, him pumping into her over and over again until they were both sated.

A moan escaped her lips, and he reached up, holding her face between his hands, angling her mouth for a deeper kiss. Then he slid his hands down her face, her neck, her shoulders until he reached her breasts. He could take her right here in the hall. He wanted her that badly.

She pushed him back, her green eyes wild, her auburn hair mussed from his kisses, and her breathing harsh and labored.

“Damn you, cowboy. I don’t know what you’ve done to me,” she whispered. Then she pulled him into her room and shut the door. “But you’re going to make it right.”

 

 

Chapter Eight

 

Z
ach was the luckiest son of a bitch this side of the Red River. He couldn’t believe Meg had pulled him into her room and shut the door, her mouth still on his, her hands running down his chest. He twisted her around and slammed her against the door, his mouth consuming hers like a man starved, though he’d just had dinner. He took her hands in his and raised them over the top of her head, pinning her to the door, while his mouth plundered her full and inviting lips.

He leaned into her body, pressing against her, needing to feel her breasts against his chest, the touch of her body against his. She seemed to fit in the hollows of his body’s embrace like this was where she belonged, and he marveled at the way they melded together. He left her mouth and nibbled his way down past her ears to her neck.

“God, you smell so good,” he said, taking a deep breath of her, his cock hardening as he continued his way down to the swells of her breast.

All night long he’d stared at her chest, wanting, needing to touch her breasts, kiss his way over that white strip of flesh that had billowed above the fabric of her dress. He longed to bury his face in her cleavage and tried to remind himself to slow down. Take deep breaths.

He dropped her wrists, wrapping her face in his hands, and brought her mouth to his again. He pushed his tongue past her lips and caressed her mouth like he was dying of thirst, and she was his fountain of water. Her sweet lips tasted of pleasure, and he sampled her mouth, sweeping his tongue across her full lips.

She pushed him away, her breathing harsh, her eyes wide with wonder. She walked over to the desk in the corner and lit the lantern. When she returned, she twirled around, giving him her back. “Help me out of this dress, cowboy.”

He pulled her to him, kissing the back of her neck, nipping her gently with his teeth. “Are you sure?”

“Stop dawdling and help me out of this,” she whispered, her voice husky with need.

She didn’t have to tell him twice. He was undoing the buttons like a man seeking gold. When he finished, his hands reached inside and slowly pushed the dress down. She stepped out of the garment then lovingly placed it on a chair. She turned to face him, and he thought he was going to die of need right there in the middle of the room. His heart raced like a stallion chasing a filly at the sight of her in the new undergarments he’d purchased today.

“Meg,” he drawled, needing her more with each passing minute, his manhood swelling tight against his pants, his blood pulsing and centering between his legs.

She was gorgeous, and it was all he could do to keep from ripping her chemise and pantaloons from her body.

Her breasts swelled above her chemise, and he reached for her, needing to feel her in his arms, but she stepped back. With a slowness he found maddening, she pulled the chemise over her head. God, she was more beautiful than he’d dreamed. She was stunning, and he started pulling his shirt out of his pants. He opened the buttons, his eyes never leaving hers as she shimmied out of her pantaloons.

Then she stood before him naked, and he thought he’d died and gone to heaven. Only being inside her could be any better than this.

“Hurry up, cowboy. You’re falling behind.”

He moved faster, shucking his boots, unbuckling his belt, and unbuttoning his pants. He reached his long johns and suddenly felt shy. Then he remembered she’d already seen him without his clothes, and he pulled his long johns down.

They were both naked. For a moment, they stared at one another.

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