Authors: Lora Leigh
Tags: #Romance, #Romantic Suspense Fiction, #Suspense, #Fiction, #Contemporary, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Murder, #Crime, #Erotica, #Ranchers
influence only makes me ashamed to be a part of this
place.”
“I can’t blame you for feeling that way,” she said
as she faced them, knowing that wasn’t an option she
was willing to choose yet.
Once everyone who disagreed with those
families was gone, who would be left to teach the
children differently?
She couldn’t help but consider the kids she
taught. Third graders were sharp as hell; they saw so
much more than people realized and were so much
more influenced that it was frightening.
As Jack and his wife left, Cami glanced around
the kitchen and breathed out heavily.
Tonight was the Spring Fling Social, the first
night of the year’s social activities. For all its
undercurrents of intrigue, Corbin County and its
residents had made inroads to protect their children
that she hadn’t heard of in other towns.
The weekend social gathering that was held in
the town square during clear weather had begun
unofficially the night before. The crowd that had
gathered had been part of the volunteers stringing
lights and decorating for the first weekend to
celebrate spring. And if the weather didn’t cooperate,
then they gathered in the large community center.
Every Saturday night beginning in April with the
Spring Fling Social, one of the dressier, more formal
events held, the socials kicked off. Cami doubted
there was a single family that didn’t attend, and very
few children that didn’t spend the entire weekend at
the community center.
The town square would be lit up like Christmas,
the businesses surrounding it closed early, except the
town’s single bar, located in the town square which
would remain open through most of the night and well
past the last call.
The socials were open to all, but they were
heavily monitored and the alcohol strictly watched.
Through the years, the event had had its ups and
downs, but the dedication of the city council and the
parents involved with the project kept it going.
The Spring Fling Social itself was highly
anticipated. The winter months closed down the
socials to allow for skiing activities and the influx of
tourism for the skiing season in the surrounding
counties. Several outlying ranches in those
surrounding counties had turned into resorts with a
focus on winter activities, making participation in the
socials much lower during the skiing months. April
saw the winter activities tapering off, though. The
snow began to slack and finally melt. Frozen streams
and icy rivers melted and began to run with an
abundance of fish and wildlife as the trees began to
green and their tiny buds made their debut.
And for the third year in a row, Cami didn’t have
a date. She could have had one. If Rafe had returned
her phone call, she might have had one.
She had her dress, her shoes, and all her
accessories, and she was driving herself to the
social, unless she wanted to walk it the second night
in a row. Of course, driving meant finding a parking
spot which would be impossible. Vehicles were
already backing up along her street. On the other
hand, finding company to walk home with wouldn’t be
a problem.
It would be decidedly harder for anyone to follow
her, and not be noticed than it was the night before.
For a moment, she wondered if Rafe would have
attended if she had asked him or even if she had
simply left him a message.
What did he look like in dress black or a tux?
Would he have danced with her? Would the women at
the social watch her with envy and longing as Rafer
danced with her, as they had the night before?
And why the hell had he left so abruptly come to
think of it? This spring was definitely beginning rather
oddly, and Cami wasn’t entirely certain she was
comfortable with it.
On second thought, hell, no, she wasn’t
comfortable with it.
And yes, she thought, Rafer would have danced
with her again. He would have held her close as she
laid her head against his shoulder, swaying to the
music and counting the time until they could leave and
find a bed.
She shook her head quickly, trying to chase away
the images running through her mind and the needs
that rose inside her from those images.
Three weeks. Too damned long.
As she headed to the shower she couldn’t stop
the visions of sexual satiation from dancing through
her head. Long, hot kisses, the sight of his lips at her
breasts, covering a hard, sensitive nipple, his cheeks
hollowing as he sucked at the hardened tip, flicking it
with the tip of his tongue.
The feel of those lips kissing their way down her
torso, running over her belly, moving between her
thighs. The feel of his tongue fucking her.
She wanted to moan in need. She was on the
verge of screaming in frustration and making a
decision she knew she would end up regretting.
Of course, he hadn’t even tried to follow her
home, otherwise he would have caught sight of her
shadow the night before. If he’d had satisfying that
hunger in mind, then he wouldn’t have left her for a
second.
She had told him to stay away from her; he was
only doing what she had demanded. But even then
she had been honest with herself, albeit silently.
She didn’t want him out of her life. She wanted to
change the past. She wanted to make things different.
She wanted to be able to go to that damned social
and dance in his arms before coming home to sleep
in them.
She wanted everything she had dreamed of
having, everything she had fantasized about having.
She wanted Rafe until she was ready to cry with the
frustration building inside her.
And Rafe was the one thing she couldn’t have.
The one man denied herself. The only man who could
destroy her soul.
She wished it was only shame that held her from
him. Shame would have been so very easy for her to
conquer. The pleasure she found in his arms had
shame beat all to hell. The ecstasy that surged bright
and hot through her body as her release swept over
her would have had such an edge on shame that it
wouldn’t have stood a chance.
No matter how much she wished differently
though, it wasn’t shame.
And she couldn’t even say in all honesty that it
had anything to do with the fact that the county refused
to accept the Callahans. She knew it didn’t.
The county had changed a lot in the twenty years
since the Callahan cousins’ parents had died. The
school board wasn’t from the same deeply rooted
families that it had once been. Their ties to the
community were new, their influence by the Corbins
not the same as it had been with past board
members despite Marshal Roberts’s presence there.
The principal at the school where Cami worked
lived in Aspen rather than Corbin County or
Sweetrock. The mayor had been in the military for
years before returning to the county and had run his
election on the fact that such political cronyism would
come to an end.
Not that she expected it to happen, but it wasn’t
as pervasive as it had been when Cami had been a
teenager.
Corbin County was changing, and it had been
changing for several years. But for all the changes that
had occurred, it was still mired in the past and the
wealth of the barons.
The barons were old now, though. Each man was
nearing his seventies, and though they might yet have
several years left in them, still their strength was
waning, and with it, their power.
And they knew it.
She had seen it in Marshal Roberts’s eyes, that
knowledge that he wasn’t the man he had been thirtytwo
years ago, and Corbin County wasn’t the county it
was thirty-two years ago either.
If they had killed Rafer’s grandparents, parents,
and uncle, and if they had been behind the deaths that
had swept the county twenty-two years ago, then it
wouldn’t happen as easily now. The mayor hadn’t
been just a part of the military; he had been rather
high-ranking as well. Such tactics, despite his ability
to adopt them, didn’t seem to be his style.
They were still dangerous, though, and she
believed that was part of the message Marshal
Roberts had tried to get across to her that night.
Their power was waning, but it was by no means
gone. They would still make very formidable enemies.
CHAPTER 14
The dress was rich black and gold velvet with silver
thread trimming the scalloped bodice and
emphasizing her full breasts.
The empire waist of the design gave her such a
delicate, fragile appearance that Rafe wondered that
he hadn’t managed to break her each time he’d
fucked her as though he were dying for her.
The short, sassy cut of her hair framed her fineboned
face in a multitude of browns, the natural
highlights almost fascinating to him each time he’d
concentrated on them.
And her gray eyes. She watched the dancing with
a sense of hunger, the slow, sensual sway of the
bodies holding her attention as though she was
imagining herself on the floor as well: What would it
feel like? How would it be to be held against his body,
to feel him moving against her?
At least, it damned well better be him she was
fantasizing about. And how the hell was he supposed
to ensure it when so much distance separated them?
When the past and the whole of Corbin County stood
between them?
What was he doing here? He should have never
let Crowe and Logan convince him to accompany
them here. What was Crowe doing even wanting to
attend this crap? Hell, they’d even avoided it as
teenagers, so why were they here now?
Had Crowe lost his mind as he’d matured?
Perhaps taken a bullet to the head? Had he somehow
lost his mind? Crowe was sure making some oddassed
decisions lately.
Attending the Spring Fling Social was just one of
those decisions.
Everyone in Corbin County seemed to attend the
more important socials, as City Hall liked to call them.
Through the spring, summer, and early fall, every
Saturday the county paid for either a band or DJ and
the guests partied, sometimes until the next day’s
dawn. The bar facing the town square remained open
even past last call, though alcohol wasn’t sold past a
certain time. That didn’t mean many of the partygoers