Hawk's Way (8 page)

Adam had given her a lot to think about, and Honey was quiet for the rest of the journey to the restaurant in Hondo. Hermannson's Steak House was famous for its traditional Texas fare of chicken-fried steak and onion rings. A country band played later in the evening, and she and Adam danced the Texas two-step and the rousing and bawdy Cotton-eyed Joe.

Adam was always good company, and Honey couldn't help laughing at his anecdotes. But she was increasingly aware that the end of the evening was coming, when Adam would renew his proposal and she would have to give him her answer. She felt a somberness stealing over her. Finally Adam ceased trying to make her smile.

“Time to go?” he asked.

“I think so.”

She tried several times in the car to get out the words
I can't marry you.
It wasn't as easy being candid as she wished it was.

Adam wasn't totally insensitive to her plight, she discovered. In fact he made it easy for her.

“It's all right,” he said in a quiet voice. “I guess I knew I was fooling myself. When you didn't say yes right away I figured you had some reservations about marrying me. I guess I hoped if I was persistent you'd change your mind.”

“I'm sorry,” Honey said.

“So am I,” Adam said with a wry twist of his mouth. “I suppose it won't do any good to warn you again about that drifter you hired, either.”

“I'll think about what you said,” Honey conceded. She just couldn't believe Jesse had come to the Flying Diamond to steal from her. She had to believe that or die from the pain she felt at the thought he had simply been using her all this time.

The inside of the house was dark when they drove up, but it was late. Honey was grateful that she wouldn't have to confront Jesse tonight about the things Adam had told her.

“Good night, Adam,” Honey said. She felt awkward. Unsure whether he would want to
kiss her and not willing to hurt him any more than she already had by refusing if he did.

Adam proved more of a gentleman than she had hoped. He took her hand in his and held it a moment. The look on his face was controlled, but she saw the pain in his eyes as he said, “Goodbye, Honey.”

She swallowed over the lump in her throat. She hadn't meant to hurt him. “I'm sorry,” she said again.

“Don't be. I'll survive.” Only he knew how deeply he had allowed himself to fall in love with her, and how hard it was to give up all hope of having her for his wife.

Slowly he let her hand slip through his fingers. He came around and opened the car door for her and walked her to the porch. As he left her, his last words were, “Be careful, Honey. Don't trust that drifter too much.”

Then he was gone.

Honey let herself into the dark house and leaned back against the front door. Her whole body sagged in relief. She had hurt a good man without meaning to, though she didn't regret refusing his proposal.

“You were gone long enough!”

The accusation coming out of the dark startled Honey and she nearly jumped out of her shoes.

“You scared me to death!” she hissed. “What are you doing sitting here in the dark?”

“Waiting for you.”

As her eyes adjusted to the scant light, she saw that Jesse was no longer sitting. He had risen and was closing the distance between them. Escape seemed like a good idea and she started for the stairs. She didn't get two steps before he grasped her by the shoulders.

“You didn't bring him inside with you. Does that mean you've told him things are over between you?”

“That's none of your—”

Jesse shook her hard. “Answer me!”

Honey was more furious than she could remember being at any time since Cale's death. How dare this man confront her! How dare he demand answers that were none of his business! “Yes!” she hissed. “Yes! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Jesse answered her by capturing her mouth
with his. It was a savage kiss, a kiss of claiming. His hands slid around her and he spread his legs and pulled her into the cradle of his thighs. He wasn't gentle, but Honey responded to the urgency she felt in everything he did. Against all reason, she felt a spark of passion ignite, and she began to return his fervent kisses.

“Honey, Honey,” he murmured against her lips. “I need you. I want you.”

Honey was nearly insensate with the feelings he was creating with his mouth and hands. He made her feel like a woman with his desire, his need. She shoved at his shoulders and whispered, “Jesse, we can't. Jack is—”

“Jack's spending the night with friends,” he reminded her.

He grinned at the stunned look on her face as she realized that her youthful chaperon was not going to come to her rescue this time.

Without giving her a chance to object, Jesse swept her into his arms in a masterful imitation of Rhett and Scarlett and headed upstairs.

“What do you think you're doing?” Honey demanded.

“Taking you to bed where you belong,” Jesse said.

“We can't do this,” Honey protested.

Jesse stopped halfway up the stairs. “Why not?”

There was a long pause while Honey debated whether to confront him with the accusations Adam had made. “Because…You'd never lie to me, would you, Jesse?”

It was dark so she couldn't see his face, but being held in his arms the way she was, she felt the sudden tension in his body.

“I'd never do anything to hurt you, Honey.”

“That isn't exactly the same thing, is it?”

There was enough light to see his smile appear. “That's one of the things I like about you, Honey. You don't pull any punches.”

“I think you'd better put me down, Jesse,” she said.

Slowly he released her legs so her body slid down across his. She was grateful for the way he held on to her, because her feet weren't quite steady under her. Her nipples puckered as he slowly rubbed their bodies together.

“You want me, Honey,” he said in his rusty-gate voice.

“It would be hard to deny it without sounding like a fool,” she said acerbically.

His mouth found the juncture between her neck and shoulder and blessed it with tantalizing kisses. Honey gripped his arms to keep from falling down the stairs as his mouth sought out the tender skin at her throat and followed it up to her ear. Her head fell back of its own volition, offering him better access. Her whole body quivered at the sensations he was evoking with mouth and teeth and tongue.

A hoarse, guttural sound forced its way past Honey's lips. “Jesse, please.”

“What, Honey? What do you want?”

Honey groaned again, and it was as much a sound of pleasure as of despair. “You,” she admitted in a harsh voice. “I want you.”

Jesse lifted her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way upstairs.

H
oney felt the heat of the man beside her and reached out to caress the muscular strength of a body she now knew as well as her own. When Jesse stirred, Honey withdrew her hand. She didn't want to awaken him. Last night had been magical. She didn't wish to rouse from the night's dream and face the reality of day.

Jesse looked younger in the soft dawn light, though still something of a rogue with the stubble of dark beard that shadowed his face. She rubbed her cheek against the pillow, noticing
that her skin was tender where his beard had rubbed again—and again. As were her breasts, she realized with chagrin.

He hadn't been gentle, but then, neither had she. Their lovemaking had blazed with the feelings of desperation that had followed them upstairs to the bedroom.

Honey understood her own reasons for feeling that she had to reach for whatever memories she could make with Jesse before he was gone. She had no idea why Jesse had seemed equally desperate. Had he already made up his mind to leave her? Did he already know the day when their brief interlude would come to an end?

She touched her lower lip, which was tender from the kissing they had done, the love bites he had given her. She must have bitten him, as well. There was a purplish bruise on Jesse's neck, put there in a moment of passion, she supposed. She didn't remember doing it, and she was embarrassed to think what he was going to say when he saw it. She hadn't left such a mark on a man since she'd been a teenager, playing games with Cale.

Honey winced. She hadn't thought of Cale once last night. Jesse hadn't left room for thought. He had spread her legs and thrust inside her, claiming her like some warrior with the spoils of battle. And what had she done? She had allowed it. No, that wasn't precisely true. She had
reveled
in his domination of her. She had opened herself to Jesse and allowed him liberties that Cale had never enjoyed.

And she wasn't even sorry.

Honey had never needed a man so much, or felt so much with a man. She didn't understand it. What made Jesse so different from Adam? Why couldn't she have chosen a man who would give her the security she needed in her life? Why did she have to love—

Honey stopped her thoughts in midstream, appalled by the word that had come to mind.
Love.
Was that why the lovemaking had been so thrilling? Was she in love with Jesse Whitelaw?

It was unfair to be forced to evaluate her feelings when she was staring at the object of her desire. Because she loved the way Jesse's
raven-black hair fell across his brow. She loved the way his dark lashes feathered onto bronze cheeks. She loved his mouth, with the narrow upper lip and the full lower one, that had brought her so much pleasure.

She loved the weight of his body on hers when they were caressing each other. She loved the feel of his skin, soft to the touch, and yet hard with corded muscle. She loved the way his flesh heated hers as his callused fingertips sought out her breasts and slid down her belly to the cleft between her thighs.

She loved the feel of their two bodies when they were joined together as a man and woman were meant to be. She loved his patience as he brought her to fulfillment. She loved the lazy-lidded satisfaction in his eyes when she cried out her pleasure. And she loved the agonized pleasure on his face as he followed her to the pinnacle of desire they had sought together.

Honey refused to contemplate the other facets of Jesse's character that appealed to her. They were many and varied. It was painful enough to know that she loved him this way. Because
where there was love, there was hope. And Honey was afraid to hope that the drifter would be there in the days to come. She wasn't sure her memories would be enough when he was gone.

Honey knew she couldn't stay in bed any longer without turning to Jesse yet again. Rather than be thought a wanton, she slipped quietly from beneath the covers, grabbed a shirt, jeans, socks and boots and headed downstairs to dress in the kitchen.

She didn't make coffee, certain the smell would wake Jesse, and wanting more time alone. Honey headed outside to feed the stock. Maybe she could subdue her unruly libido with hard work. She entered the barn and was immediately assailed with familiar smells that comforted and calmed her. She headed for General's stall and stopped dead at the sight that greeted her. Or rather, didn't greet her.

At first Honey refused to believe her eyes. She gripped the stall where General was supposed to be with white-knuckled hands. Had she left General outside in the corral all night? She was appalled at her thoughtlessness.

Honey ran back outside, but the bull was nowhere to be seen. She hurried back to examine the stall, thinking he might have broken the latch. But it was still hooked.

Staring didn't make the bull appear. He was gone.
Stolen!

Honey felt despair, followed by rage at the one suspect for the theft who was still within her reach. Purely by instinct, she grabbed two items from the barn as she raced back to the house. She made a brief stop in the kitchen before marching determinedly up the stairs.

* * *

Jesse came roaring to life, drenched by the bucket of icy water Honey had thrown on him. “What the hell are you doing, woman?”

He leapt out of bed like a lion from its den, roaring with anger. He was naked, and she had never seen him look so powerful. Or so seductive to her senses.

He grabbed for her and she stepped out of his way. “You bastard!” she hissed.

“Honey, what the hell—”

“Don't come any closer.” She held up the
buggy whip she had found in the barn, a relic of days gone by. “I'll use this,” she threatened.

“What's going on here?” Jesse demanded. “It's a little late for outraged virtue.”

“Outraged virtue! You low-down mealy-mouthed skunk!” she raged. “You stole my bull!”

She wanted him to deny it. With all her heart she yearned for him to say he was innocent. But the dark flush she could plainly see working its way up his naked flesh from his powerful shoulders, to his love-bruised neck, landing finally on his strong cheekbones, was as blatant a statement of guilt as she had ever heard.

“How could you?” she breathed, more hurt now than angry. “I trusted you.” Then the anger was back, and she wielded the whip with all the fury of humiliation and pain she felt at his betrayal. “I trusted you!”

The whip landed once across his shoulders before he reached out and jerked it from her hands. He threw it across the room and pulled her into his arms.

Honey fought him, beating at him with her
fists and kicking at him with her feet until he threw her down on the soaking-wet bed where he subdued her with his weight.

“Stop it, Honey! That's enough!”

“I hate you!” she cried. “I hate you! I hate you!”

She burst into gasping sobs and turned her head away so he wouldn't see the tears she cried over him. She lay still, emotionally devastated, as he kissed them away.

“Honey.” His voice sounded like gravel. “I'm sorry.”

“Where's—my—bull?” she gritted out between clenched teeth.

“In a safe place,” he said.

Honey moaned. His words were final confirmation that he had used her, lied to her, stolen from her.

“It's not what you think,” he began.

She turned to face him, eyes blazing. “Can you deny that you lied to me?”

“No, but—”

“That you stole General?”

“I did, but—”

She growled deep in her throat and bucked against him.

“If you know what's good for you, you'll lie still,” Jesse warned.

Honey froze, suddenly aware of the fact he was naked, and they were in bed. “Don't you dare touch me. I'll fight you. I'll kick and scratch and—”

“If you'll just shut up for a minute, I can explain everything.”

“I don't want to hear your excuses, you bastard. I—”

He kissed her to shut her up.

Honey felt the punishment in his kiss, and it was easy to fight his anger with her own, to arch her body against the weight of his, to grip the male fingers threaded through her own and struggle against his domination.

The more she fought, the more her body responded to the provocation of his. He insinuated his thigh between her legs knowing it would excite her. At the same time his mouth gentled and his lips and tongue came seeking the taste of her, dark like honey, rich and full. She fought
his strength, but his hands held hers captive on either side of her head while he ravished her.

“Don't,” she pleaded, aware she was succumbing to the desire that had never been far below the surface. “Don't.”

She was helpless to deny him. He was stronger than she. To her surprise, he stopped kissing her and raised himself on his elbows so he could look at her.

“Are you ready to listen now?”

She turned her head away and closed her eyes.

He shoved one of her hands back behind her and held it there with the weight of his body while he grabbed her chin with his now-free hand and forced her to look at him.

“Open your eyes and look at me,” he commanded.

When she didn't, his mouth came down hard on hers. “Open your eyes, Honey. I'm going to keep kissing you until you do.”

Faced with that threat, her eyes flashed open and she glared at him.

His dark eyes burned with fury. His mouth
was taut. A muscle jerked in his cheek. “There is an explanation for everything,” he gritted out.

“I'll bet!” she retorted.

“Shut up and listen!”

She snorted. But she stayed mute.

He opened his mouth and closed it several times.
Searching for more lies,
Honey thought. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again, she saw regret.

“I don't know how to say this except to say it,” he began.

She waited, wondering how she could bear to hear that the man she had spent the night making love to, the man she had begun to think herself in love with, was part of a gang of murdering rustlers.

He took a deep breath and said, “I'm a Texas Ranger. I'm working undercover to catch the leader of the gang of rustlers that's been stealing from ranches in this area.”

Honey couldn't believe her ears. Her first reaction was relief.
Jesse wasn't a thief!
The very next was anger—make that fury.
He had lied to
her!
It was a lie of omission, but a lie all the same to keep her ignorant of his true identity. Finally there was hopelessness. Which was foolish because she had never really had much hope that the drifter would settle down. Now that she knew Jesse was a Texas Ranger, the situation was clear.
He would leave her when his job was done.
Not that it really mattered. She would never repeat the mistake she had made with Cale.

“Honey? Say something?”

“Let me up.”

“Not until I explain.”

“You've said enough.”

“I didn't want to lie to you, but Dallas—”

“Dallas was in on this? I'll kill him,” Honey muttered.

Jesse was pleased by the fire in her eyes after the awful dullness he had seen when he had told her the truth. Or at least as much of the truth as he could tell her.

“Dallas was under orders, too,” Jesse continued. “The Captain thought it would be better if you were kept in the dark. Because of…” His
voice trailed off as he realized he couldn't tell her the rest of it. “I mean…I guess he thought you would understand, having been the wife of a Texas Ranger, why it was necessary.”

“I understand, all right,” Honey said heatedly. “You used me without a thought to the pain and anguish it would cause.”

“How much of what you're feeling is the result of losing General and how much the result of my deceiving you?” Jesse asked in a quiet voice. “General would have been returned within a day or so at the most and no harm done. I hadn't counted on what happened between us, Honey.”

“You never should have touched me.”

“I know,” he said.

“You should have left me completely alone.”

“I know,” he said.

“Why didn't you?”

“Because I couldn't. I didn't know I would find the other half of myself here, now, under these circumstances.”

Honey swallowed over the lump that had sud
denly risen in her throat. She closed her eyes to shut out the tenderness in his dark-eyed gaze.

“I love you, Honey.”

When her eyes opened they revealed an agony she hadn't ever wanted to feel again. “Don't! Don't say things you don't mean!”

“I've never meant anything more in my life.”

“Well, I don't love you!” she retorted.

“Who's lying now, Honey?”