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Authors: Rachel Lee

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BOOK: Rancher's Deadly Risk
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“So you wanted to avoid another outsider?”

“Bingo. I was drawn to you from the instant I saw you, but I kept telling myself that since you’d probably be leaving at the end of the school year, I should just be smart and stay away.”

It seemed so incredibly intimate, even to him, to be lying here with his head so close to her most personal places and looking up at her over her body. He liked it a whole lot, and she seemed to be relaxing a bit.

The need was awakening in him again. He licked her in the crease between her thigh and abdomen, and she shivered. “Linc, you are a devil.”

A chuckle escaped him. “You love it.”

“I can’t deny it.”

Relief that he’d diverted any continued conversation away from Martha filled him. He didn’t want to talk about the past, or about the fear he couldn’t quite escape that he would be judged wanting again. That this woman, too, would be unable to tolerate life here. Not now.

Right now he just wanted to sink into her depths, forget all the worries of the past week, forget his fears for her and for the Carney boy, and just focus in this moment with a glorious woman lying in his bed.

He lifted himself a bit and settled between her legs, his face near the apex of her thighs. “If you have any objections to this,” he said huskily, “tell me before I offend you.”

“No offense. I’ve never...”

Never? For some odd reason the thought delighted him. He couldn’t imagine anyone skipping over these honey-blond curls with their musky scent, but it thrilled him to know he could give her something no one ever had before. He eased her legs farther apart, propped himself on his elbows and gently stroked her velvety petals. As shiver after shiver ran through her, he felt his own body pound its way into renewed need.

His fingers traced her soft flesh, avoiding the very seat of her desire, teasing out the moments, loving her growing excitement. Only when her hips arched up in demand did he lower his head and follow his fingers with his tongue.

She tasted as good as her aromas had promised, and with his tongue he explored every nook of her. Soft moans started to escape her, encouraging him to press on, to stiffen his tongue as he slid it inside her and then dragged it up to her swollen nub.

She cried out, but he remained merciless, flicking her with his tongue until her hips rolled like the sea. The sounds of her pleasure fed his own arousal until he felt as if he would explode.

He felt her crest, heard the cry torn from deep within her. Still he was merciless, lashing her with his tongue until she was panting and ready yet again.

Only then did he grab a foil packet and rise over her, plunging into her until he could plunge no farther. Her legs lifted, trying to lock around his hips, her hands grabbed at his rump, pulling him in, taking him deeper yet.

They rode the rising tide until at last it tossed them dizzy and sated onto a sparkling shore.

Chapter 8

T
hey rested tangled comfortably together beneath the quilt, her hand on his shoulder, his arms around her. Time passed, quiet except for the wind outside, but finally he stirred.

“This is the best blizzard ever.”

She laughed, a delightful sound, easy and free of shadows. “It must be.”

“Unfortunately...”

“I know. The poor sheep, goats and dogs are out there.”

“You can shower if you like while I take care of them. I doubt I’ll be long. Want me to bring you something to eat?” Eating had been overlooked, he suddenly realized, which made him a lousy host.

“I’ll get up. I want to help. Besides, being in a blizzard is a rare experience for me. Almost new, even though I can remember some from my childhood.”

He enjoyed watching her dress, taking in every graceful movement, drinking in the loveliness that she was concealing with each new piece of clothing. He realized he wouldn’t have changed one inch of her.

Then, feeling like a gawping kid, he hastened to conceal his watching by hurrying into his own clothes. “Let me grab some warmer gloves for you.”

It gave him an excuse to run down the hall to the bedroom where he had stored so much of his parents’ belongings, things he had meant to give to charity but somehow had never managed to part with.

It also gave him an excuse to cool himself down. He couldn’t remember ever having been so supercharged with lust for a woman, not even Martha. Ready again so quickly?

It also gave him an excuse to care for Cassie in a small way. Such a little thing to make sure her hands remained warm. He also found a pair of woman’s boots—whose? He couldn’t seem to remember—and brought them out. He really needed to take this woman shopping for proper winter clothing, he thought, and relished the idea although he wasn’t usually fond of shopping.

The boots and gloves fit her well enough and together they stepped out back into a world gone crazy. The wind came so sharply around the corner of the house that she staggered as if from a blow. Only briefly could he make out bits of the hay wall he had built, which he was sure was rapidly disappearing in wind-blown drifts. He also knew in an instant that it was time for wisdom.

“Don’t leave the porch,” he said. “Stay right here. You could get lost between here and there in fifteen feet and I couldn’t promise to find you.”

“You can’t go out there, either.” Her voice rose a little with concern.

“I’ll tie myself to the porch. Promise you’ll stay here.”

“Of course I promise.” She looked at him as if she wondered if he thought she was stupid. “I can see how dangerous it is.”

“Sorry. I’m just worried. This is a pretty bad whiteout, but I keep a rope in the mudroom just for this.”

And if he had known this storm was coming instead of having his head and feelings so wrapped up in Cassie, he’d have strung the rope out and staked it near the fold so he’d have a secure guideline. As it was, if the wind didn’t give him a visual break from time to time, he might not reach his animals.

Although he was reasonably certain they were safe, huddled together out of the wind, probably warmed by a layer of snow. Still, he needed to be sure some animal wasn’t in distress. He knotted the rope around the porch stanchion then around his waist. Thank God it wasn’t that cold, although the wind chill might be deadly.

Then he stepped off the porch into the white and raging storm.

* * *

The rat had sickened her, the car had upset and angered her, but now Cassie felt real terror as Linc waded out into that storm. With each step he grew more invisible, and a number of times he vanished completely in whirling snow.

She needed no better object lesson in how dangerous a storm out here could be. There was little to halt the winds in the wide-open spaces once it passed the western mountains. The treeless expanses offered no hindrance to the fury. The blizzards of her childhood had never been this bad. She’d always been able to pretty much see across the street. She had the feeling that if she stepped off the porch, she wouldn’t even be able to see her hand in front of her face.

She hoped Linc was dressed warmly enough. In this sheltered part of the porch, it didn’t seem very cold until a gust hit her. The wind chill must be fierce, she thought, and he was out there with nothing to protect him but his clothing.

She couldn’t remember anyone having mentioned anything about an approaching blizzard, and wondered if this one had somehow managed to come out of nowhere with almost no warning. How likely was that? She didn’t know, being new here, and her knowledge of meteorology was limited at best.

She tried to distract herself with random thoughts like these, but failed. Minutes stretched, and along with them her nerves as she waited for Linc. How long would it take? When should she begin to worry? And what should she do if he was gone too long? Follow the rope? She doubted any help could get out here if he got hurt and couldn’t get back to the porch.

She closed her eyes, trying to remember the yard between here and the hay. It had been reasonably flat, she thought. Not likely to cause a serious accident. But she couldn’t be sure.

Just as she thought she couldn’t take it for another minute, the abominable snowman appeared at the bottom of the porch steps. She almost laughed with relief, almost laughed at the way the snow had clung to him, making him even harder to see.

Then he stomped and shook himself, and Linc reappeared with only little bits of snow clinging.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Fine.” He flashed a smile. “All cuddled up and cozy under a nice blanket of snow. Did you hear them? A few of them objected to being bothered.”

The image made her laugh again, or maybe it was relief leaving her amused. “So they’re doing fine but you’re not?”

“I’m just cold. That wind is something else.” He stepped up beside her. “Let’s get inside, warm up and eat. I want to get on with enjoying the best blizzard ever.”

The way his blue eyes sparkled at her warmed her all the way to her toes.

Be careful, she reminded herself. No man had ever wanted much more than this from her. Not ever.

Between her own experience and what he had told her about his fiancée, she didn’t dare think that Linc would be any different. Sexual attraction had pulled them together, but that was hardly enough to make an enduring relationship. He had plenty of reason not to trust her to stay, assuming he even wanted her to, and she had plenty of reason to expect he’d be like everyone else and drop her.

Just enjoy the weekend for what it was, she told herself. One wonderful weekend, nothing more.

* * *

Sunday morning surprised her. When she awoke, she expected to see a world buried in a white blanket. Standing at Linc’s bedroom window, however, she saw a world that seemed to have received only a confectioner’s sugar dusting.

“Where did it all go?” she asked.

Linc stood beside her and looked out. “It was probably a really dry snow. With all that wind it just kept blowing away until it hit an obstruction and built up. Let’s go check the other side of the house.”

In a bedroom across the hall, Cassie discovered where the snow was. A huge drift of it had built up alongside the house, reaching almost to the bottom of the second-story window.

“My word!” The sight astonished her. “Does this always happen?”

“Only with high winds and dry snow. This isn’t common, though. Usually we get a lot less snow and it’s spread over a winter.” He laughed quietly. “Sometimes I feel like I shovel the same snow dozens of times.”

As he spoke, a gust made snow dance and eddy over the top of the huge drift, sparking little whirlwinds and clouds.

“Could I just climb out the window and slide down it?”

“In your nightgown?”

She turned to him and found his blue eyes sparkling, his face creased with a smile.

“Of course not!”

He laughed. “I wanted to do it when this happened once before. That was so many years ago. I think I was in middle school at the time.”

“Did you?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately from here it looks like it’s a solid drift, but it’s probably not. First of all, the snow isn’t really packed if it’s that dry. And secondly, there’s probably a pocket where heat from the house has melted it. You could crash right down behind that drift.”

“Well, erase that idea.”

He laughed again and slipped his arm around her waist, giving her a squeeze. “You’re quite an adventurous spirit.”

She wondered how to take that. Given that Martha hadn’t found it exciting enough here, that might not be a compliment. The thought darkened her mood.

She showered and dressed in jeans and a green hoodie then went down to join him in the kitchen, wondering how this all would end. He had plenty of reason not to trust a woman who had just moved here. She had plenty of reason to expect to be dropped as soon as the sexual heat subsided a little.

They were both fools, she thought wryly, playing with a fire they knew could burn them badly. Wasn’t the saying “once burned, twice shy?” Neither of them seemed to have learned that fully.

The kitchen was bright with the morning light. Every now and then a gust of wind moaned around the house, but nothing like the day before. They managed not to get in one another’s way as they made a breakfast of toast, scrambled eggs and orange juice, but she noticed that he seemed to have pulled back a little. No touches. No quick little kisses. He had returned to avoiding her. It cast a cloud over an otherwise perfect day.

“I might be able to get you home this afternoon, considering how most of the snow has blown around. The roads are probably pretty clear and I have a plow for the front of my truck.”

She looked up from her plate, her mood sinking even more. But before she could respond in any way, he continued.

“I don’t really want to take you back. I can’t arrange to get your car fixed until tomorrow, so you’d be stuck, and I need to be here later to take care of the animals anyway.”

Up and down, a rollercoaster of the heart. He didn’t want to take her back, but the reasons had nothing to do with wanting her to stay. Staring at her plate again, she tried to tell herself not to be a fool, not to take everything he said so personally, and for heaven’s sake, stop trying to read deep meaning into his every statement. The self-admonishment didn’t work.

He spoke again. “We should finish up that bullying presentation.”

She still felt deliciously sore and sated from all their lovemaking yesterday and last night, but now he was all business again. It was a pattern she knew too damn well.

“Sure,” she said, hoping her voice sounded reasonably normal. Afraid that she might reveal the sorrow that was engulfing her.

God, was she being stupid or what? This man had barely spoken to her for months, and now after little more than a week of working with him and a short period of making love with him, she was this invested?

No way. Not possible. She shoved the sadness from her mind and focused on the really important things, like the antibullying program, like whether they could find out how James Carney was doing, and whether they should include him in their example.

BOOK: Rancher's Deadly Risk
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