Lawless (4 page)

Maybe he should put his legendary prowess with a gun to good use and put her out of her misery.

On the other hand, Cal Riker looked infuriatingly nonchalant and comfortable, unsaddling his horse with ease, gathering some pine fronds to make a temporary mattress and arranging a place for them to sleep, eating the unappetizing food without comment or complaint. If he felt the bite of the chill as night settled over them, he didn’t show it.

Hatless, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows, he repacked the food, kneeling by the saddlebags in the small clearing of cottonwoods. His profile was clean and sharp, thick dark blond hair curling against the strong column of his neck. Long-fingered hands moved with efficient dexterity as he worked and Laurel couldn’t help but be struck by not only his masculine good looks, but how he seemed to exude a powerful self-control that was part of his charisma and probably what led to his formidable reputation.

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He seemed to sense her scrutiny, for he looked up and stared back, apparently noticing her teeth were chattering. “You cold?”

“Very astute, Mr. Riker. I’m half fr-frozen.” She was a little embarrassed to be caught staring.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I’m doing my best to not complain,” she shot back, finding it hard to look dignified when she was sitting on the ground, her hair a mess, her entire body shivering. “I feel I owe you that much.”

For the first time he smiled, a mesmerizing curve of his well-shaped mouth that changed him suddenly from a gimlet-eyed outlaw to just a very attractive man. “I appreciate that, believe me. But there’s no need for you to freeze to death. We should turn in anyway. We’ve another long day tomorrow.”

As he had only made up one bed, she didn’t doubt they’d be sleeping together again.

Since he only had two blankets, it made sense to share, and at the moment, she was both disconcerted by the idea and grateful at the same time. Self-preservation was a powerful thing and since she knew already he wasn’t going to assault her, sleeping next to him was better than shivering the night away in misery.

Laurel nodded, though when she stood up, her legs wobbled and she couldn’t help but make a small sound of distress. When on the ranch she rode every day, but never from sunrise to sunset, and certainly not in a dress, with her petticoats bunched around her knees and her arms around the waist of a strange man.

The word “pride” pretty much did not apply to her current situation.

Cal Riker caught her arm to steady her. “If you aren’t used to all that time in the saddle, it can be a little tough. Lean on me.”

She did, shamelessly so, and when he guided her the few steps to the arranged bedroll, she sank down in a mess of quivering muscles with a low groan. “I’m crippled.

Luckily, my legs are numb anyway.”

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“It’ll take a day or two and you’ll be fine. That first long ride is the hardest.”

Immediately he shook his blond head, his mouth moving in a wry quirk. “I don’t think I put that the right way. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

If he hadn’t said something, she probably would have thought nothing of it, but Laurel felt her face flush at the reference to the innuendo as she registered why he apologized. She gave a weak laugh. “I’m too tired and sore to even be afraid of you, Mr.

Riker. Here we are, sharing a blanket for the second night in a row, stuck with each other so to speak, because I have a feeling you aren’t any happier to have me for company than I am to be here.”

“I’m pretty used to being alone.” The admission was said quietly as he sat down to pull off his boots. He also took off his gun belt, but like the night before, he set everything within easy reach as he lay beside her and adjusted the blanket over them both.

Blessed warmth. It came from him, radiating from his much larger body. How he wasn’t chilled to the bone she didn’t know, but without thought she moved closer and he didn’t object but instead slid his arms around her and adjusted their position so she rested against his broad chest. Laurel sighed, her cheek against the flannel of his shirt, one muscular shoulder serving as a pillow.

“You’re a brave young lady, Miss Daniels.”

It seemed like her head fit just perfectly under his chin and she was unexpectedly comfortable. She mumbled, “Uhm…how so?”

“Seems to me you’re sleeping with Cal Riker.”

The hint of bitterness in his tone surprised her a little but she was too exhausted to analyze it further. “If you wanted to hurt me, you’d have done it by now.”

“I suppose that’s a logical way of looking at it.”

“If you were in my position, you might say it was the only way of looking at it.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Most women would have gone into hysterics at some point during all of this.”

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“Are you an expert on women, Mr. Riker?” Laurel shifted just enough so she could see his face. The moonlight softened his normally hard expression and lent shadows to the clean lines of brow and jaw.

“I’ve known my share.” The response was said with a hint of cynical amusement.

With his potent good looks, he probably had. Even with his reputation it was easy enough to suppose he could find female company if he wanted it. Curiously, she asked,

“Do you have a sweetheart somewhere?”

“No.”

“It’s a pity.” She could hear the strong, steady thud of his heart and his scent, a woodsy mixture of male and the outdoors, was inexplicably intriguing.

“Why is that a pity?”

She hesitated, not sure what made her venture into such a personal discussion with a man known for his lethal ability with a gun, not to mention he was apparently also a thief.

“You aren’t all bad,” she said finally. “Maybe if you—”

“I hope you aren’t about to tell me the right woman could redeem me, Miss Daniels.”

He shifted a little as he interrupted, his powerful body moving against hers. “That’s an illusion you need to get out of your pretty head right away. I may not believe in violence against women, but that doesn’t show anything except a legacy of marginal decency from a childhood I think of now as a distant dream.”

“You are very much more decent than any of those men who took me off the train.”

It was true, without an audience, he had been both respectful and solicitous.

“Yeah, well, I’m sorry, ma’am, that’s not much of a compliment.”

She couldn’t argue that point. Just the thought of Ferris Norton with his pawing hands and lascivious sneer made her feel ill. “No,” she admitted, “I suppose it isn’t.”

An owl called, the sound drifting in the night. A light, cool breeze had stirred and she felt it brush her cheek, though she felt warm and content cradled in his arms.

In the arms of
the
Cal Riker. It was a ludicrous thought, but then again, the entire abduction seemed unreal, as if someone else had lived it.

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“Why did you join up with them?” The question seemed a natural one. “Obviously it wasn’t for the money, otherwise you would have kept your share. It isn’t because you enjoy their company either, I got that easy enough.”

“And here earlier I was thinking you were something I didn’t reckon I’d ever run across, a female who didn’t ask a bunch of questions.” He drawled the words in that soft southern accent she found so attractive.

Defensively, she said, “It’s natural to be curious, especially since I am forced to trust you at this point.”

“Don’t.” The word was abrupt and edgy.

“Don’t what?”

“Trust me. Not for one minute. I’m not worthy of it, and I don’t want the responsibility. Just because I didn’t force you last night doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about what it would be like if you were willing. In fact, I’m pretty sure you noticed I was.”

How he’d moved against her wasn’t something she’d likely forget. Even though they hadn’t done what he pretended they were doing, he had still pushed her legs apart and lain between them. How easily he had subdued her with his superior weight and strength was a sobering reminder of her vulnerability. “I noticed,” she admitted, her voice low and a slow blush burning her cheeks.

“Your problem is, Miss Daniels, you are one very pretty young lady. Maybe the prettiest I’ve ever seen.”

His hand lifted and he touched her cheek very lightly with his long fingers, the caress just a brush but the contact sending a jolt of awareness through her entire body.

…if you were willing…

His voice was husky. “I’m going to guess your father has his hands full keeping all those hungry ranch hands away from you. For his sake, I hope you don’t have any sisters.”

“One brother,” Laurel managed to say, aware he was staring at her mouth. Her pulse fluttered in her throat as she saw his lashes—ridiculously long and thick for a man—drift www.samhainpublishing.com 29

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downward a fraction as he bent his head. Warm breath fanned her cheek. She vaguely heard herself ask, “What are you doing?”

“Showing you why you can’t trust me. Maybe I didn’t take advantage of you last night, but for twenty thousand surely you owe me a kiss.”

The first touch of his lips made her gasp, a sound he swallowed by settling his mouth more firmly against hers. If she’d been cold before, that was dissipated by the solid feel of his hard body and the iron hold of his arms, and she felt almost too warm as his tongue sought entrance with gentle insistence.

Though she’d been kissed before, it had never been like this.

For one thing, he took his time. This was not a hurried moment stolen by some lovesick, awkward young cowboy. Cal Riker might be good with a gun, but he was obviously pretty skilled in other ways too. The firmness of lips, the sharp taste of whiskey, the thud of his heart, it all blended into the almost surreal essence of the moment. He melded their mouths together in a way that made her feel a part of what he was doing, part of his need. One hand ran gracefully down her arm and caught hers, twining their fingers in an intimate clasp with a small squeeze as they kissed.

It was a very romantic gesture, and she was both bemused and astonished by the tumultuous riot of feelings it provoked.

You need to stop at once
, a nagging voice reminded her.
To pull your hand away
.

But she didn’t.

He’s a very dangerous man
, the admonishment continued.

And it had nothing to do with his infamous skill at a faster-than-lightning draw.

“Damn my black soul, you feel so good.” The murmur was made against her lips and before she could say anything, he captured her mouth again, this time with more urgency.

The starlit night, the fragrance of pine and earth, the wash of the cool autumn breeze…it all faded away under the influence of something she’d never experienced.

Desire.

To her consternation, Laurel felt her breasts tingle, the puckered peaks of her nipples against his chest. His teasing tongue dueled with hers, demanding a response, and she 30

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Lawless

sank the fingers of her free hand into the thickness of his hair, marveling at how soft it was when everything else about him was hard and unrelenting.

It was Cal who finally tore his mouth away and she felt the scorching wisp of his breath on her cheek. Eyes closed, he simply held her and finally let out a short laugh.

“That was the mistake of a lifetime, I have a hunch. I’m a damn fool.”

The words sparked an awareness of her enthusiastic participation. She struggled to catch her breath. “That makes two of us. I haven’t even let Wes kiss me like that.”

The man holding her went very still. “I take it you’re talking about your fiancé?”

“I lied. We aren’t officially engaged but he’s asked.”

“It was a bit naïve of you, if you don’t mind me saying, Miss Daniels, to think the idea of an outraged prospective husband would stop me if I had intended on doing what you thought I was going to do last night.” His voice once again assumed that easy, slow drawl and he disengaged their fingers. “It sure as hell wouldn’t have stopped Norton or any of the others from entertaining themselves.”

The thought of that was so horrible she pushed it away.

“Forgive me if I was feeling a little panicked and couldn’t come up with anything else.” She was embarrassed—at least a little bit—at her response to his kiss and the reply came out more tartly than she intended.

His brows rose in amusement and his slow smile was devastating in the way it changed his handsome face. “You were actually pretty cool considering your circumstances. I’ve got to hand that to you. Even now, you’re really not scared, are you?”

She was, but probably not in the way he meant. “Like I said before, I’m not afraid you’ll hurt me.”

“Most of the people who have any prolonged contact with me get hurt in one way or another, Laurel. You might want to remember that.”

The bleak note in his voice touched her. At a loss for a response, she simply stared at him.

He said quietly, “Let’s get some rest.”

All she could manage was a nod.

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The whiskey was good, but he wasn’t sure about the company. To say Weston Harper was upset was the truth, but then again, who wouldn’t be? Will Daniels accepted the glass and could not think of one single reassuring thing to say to the man who sat across from him.

Tall, dark-haired, his face set and grim as he poured another shot, Harper’s voice was raspy. “You know damn good and well what they’re doing with her.”

Will tossed off his drink before answering. Thinking about what might be happening, or already had happened, to his sister would just drive him crazy. “My father is organizing a search party. We know where they took her off the train. Maybe the River Bend Outfit made the mistake of a lifetime. If we can track them, they’re all dead men.”