The Rancher Takes A Bride (11 page)

She sniffed. "I don't need my hands to speak with the dead."

He shook his head and then took out his knife. Slowly and gently, he plucked the thorns from her hand. At times he had to dig into the wound to get the embedded stickers out. Shocked, she sat amazed at how gentle and easy his touch was on her skin.

"So just where did you think you were going, this time of night?" he asked.

"I don't know. I kind of thought that once I got away, I would figure it out."

"Have you ever heard of coyotes or Indians attacking at night? Weren't you concerned for your safety at all?"

He didn't look up at her, but kept his head bent over his task.

"Well, I .. ."

"We're five miles from town, Miss Severin. Five miles from Fort Worth, the most lawless town in Texas. It isn't safe for a woman in the daytime, let alone at night." He plucked a thorn from beneath her skin. "You best be concerned with both the two- legged and four-legged animals that live around here."

"Let me assure you that I can take care of myself. I've been doing it for years. It's just that I never— never thought about what I was going to do after I left. I just thought I would make it to town."

"Not thinking can get you killed." He ran his fingers very gently across her injured skin. "I think I got all the thorns. Can you feel, any more?"

She felt lots of things, but it wasn't the thorns. Her hands were stinging from the barbs, but her heart was racing from his gentle ministrations. "No—I think they're all gone."

"Good." He started to smear a smelly salve onto her hands. "This should take out the soreness and help your palm to heal."

The salve was soothing, and already the stinging had begun to ease. She gazed at Travis Burnett and couldn't believe this was the same man who had carried her out of the roadhouse, ridden across country with her on horseback, and refused to let her go.

He took strips of clean cloth and covered the welts. "You should get some rest now. Sunrise is only a couple of hours away, and it'll be time to get up soon."

She felt tired and numb as she watched him pack up the first-aid supplies.

"How did you know I would try to leave tonight?" she questioned.

"You don't give up easily. I'd have been disappointed if you hadn't tried something."

"Oh."

He'd either just given her a compliment or told her politely that she was stubborn. After everything that had happened tonight, she decided to accept it as a compliment.

"Come on and I'll help you up the stairs," he said, his voice soothing.

Picking up the lantern, he walked her through the darkened house and up the series of steps. It was an eerie feeling to be climbing the stairs together. She felt as if the whole world was asleep and only the two of them existed.

When they reached their respective bedrooms, she felt awkward. There was a new emotion between them, one she didn't recognize, a feeling that left her oddly unsettled.

She didn't want to fight him any longer. She didn't want to make him mad, but she wasn't exactly sure that he was the man she had thought him to be.

Tonight she'd seen a different side of Travis Burnett, a side that drew her more to him than ever before. A gentle, kind man she hadn't expected from the rough cowboy exterior.

And more than ever before she was drawn to him.

They stood uncomfortable, unsure, outside their bedroom doors. "Do you need the lantern?" he asked, his voice gruff.

"No. I can find my way from here."

"All right then. Good night, Desirée."

It was the first time he had used her stage name, and in the privacy of the moment it all but made her go weak in the knees. Why tonight? Why this moment had he chosen to call her the name that reminded her of just who she really was? Of who she wanted to be?

"Good night," she called and stepped into the bedroom she had left a little more than an hour before, closing the door firmly behind her.

As she turned and surveyed the bed, she realized she had no sheets. What was she going to do now? Sleep on the ticking without a covering? Or she could sneak down to the yard below and get them without Travis knowing.

No, he'd hear her and think she was trying to leave again. Stepping back into the hall, she knocked on his door.

He opened the door and leaned one arm against the frame, his body silhouetted by the glow of the lantern. His naked chest glistened, smooth and silky, his muscles clearly defined. Rose suddenly felt light¬headed and feverish.

"What's wrong?"

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I ... my bed sheets are outside."

Even in the dim light, she noticed the pupils of his eyes widen.

"Guess you'll have to sleep with me then," he whispered in the night.

Rose felt her breath catch in her throat. It wasn't quite the response she would have expected from this man who resembled everything precise and correct. In fact, he'd taken her quite off guard.

Before she could think of a reply, his arms wrapped around her and his lips descended onto hers. Warm as midnight rain, the feel of his mouth on hers all but drained away the last of her strength. If his arms hadn't held her up, she would have fallen, for her knees went weak.

She leaned into his strength, and a sense of safety and well-being overcame her. Wrapped in the security of his arms, she felt her defenses melting, her body responding to the sweet caress of his kiss. Flashes of fire raced down her limbs, warming her to the very center of her being.

Tentatively, she ran her bandaged hands down his naked back, her fingertips enjoying the feel of his flesh beneath her hands. The muscled contours of his back rippled at her touch, and Travis moaned deep and low in his throat. She opened her mouth to receive more of him, to let him breathe the very essence of her life's breath as she felt his tongue rake the inside of her lips. A swirling sensation of intense pleasure began deep within her stomach, spreading throughout her body, building with each passing moment.

His hands reached down and pulled her buttocks into him, and she could feel his hardened shaft pressed against her. For a moment she was frightened. She was slipping out of control.

She pulled away and slowly opened her eyes. The raspy sound of her breathing was harsh in the darkened hallway.

The thought of making love with Travis was such a tempting proposition, especially given the way he had treated her wounds and the way she responded to his kiss. But becoming intimate with Travis was out of the question.

"I don't—I don't think your mother would approve," she said breathlessly.

Moonlight streamed into the hallway from the bedroom windows, and she could see his chest rising and falling.

He shrugged. "Generally, when I bed a woman, I don't tell my mother."

"That's probably for the best," she whispered. She raised her brow. "Why did you want me? Just so you could put another notch in your bedpost?"

He moved aside. "Take a look for yourself. My bedpost doesn't have any notches in it. It was a suggestion, that's all." He stepped around her. "I'll get you more linens."

Rose crossed the hall to the door of her room, where she patiently waited for Travis, ready for this night to end. Why had she questioned him? Had she hoped for something more than a man who wanted a quick tumble? Wasn't that what most men wanted and expected from a girl like her? Especially the kind of man who would abduct her.

But for just a moment she'd hoped for something different, and somehow she was disappointed. It was obvious that Travis was just as attracted to her as she was to him, and the thought of sharing a bed with him was tempting. Way too tempting.

Travis appeared before her. "Here you go. Do you need me to help you put them on the bed?"

"No. I can manage. Good night," she stepped back into her room and abruptly shut the door, closing the portal to the temptation of Travis and her own body's reaction.

***

Travis jammed his fist into the soft, feather-filled pillow one more time before settling once again into the down-filled bed. If only the cock would crow the end of this eternal night. Every time he closed his eyes, his mind filled with visions of the cunning little con artist across the hall. Sleep was impossible for contemplating the bewitching Desirée and the kiss they'd shared.

She was boisterous and exciting. She was courageous and intriguing. She was sexy and daring. And she was the most frustrating woman who had ever crossed his path.

One moment he wanted to strangle her with his bare hands and the next to ply her with soft words and enticing kisses. Whenever she came near him, his senses seemed to explode; his mind became fogged with the sweet smell of jasmine, and his hands ached to caress her silken skin. Never before had a woman left him so perplexed, so curious, so completely intrigued, and so hard!

Yet the need to resist her tempting flesh was strong. A woman like her could be dangerous—dangerous in the art of seduction, with her tricky ways and subtle lies. A man had to be careful or fall victim to her deceiving ways.

Tonight had certainly proven that, when he opened the door and saw her standing there, her hair down around her hips. God, the urge to pull her into his room had been overwhelming.

Vibrant and sultry, Desirée was a woman who could easily make him give in to his desire to take her at his leisure and much, much more. The kiss they'd shared had left him troubled. He'd wanted to lock out the rest of the world until he'd had his fill of her. But her words had left him anxious.

His invitation had tumbled from his lips, yet he knew in reality it could never be. He assured himself that Desirée was more a pleasant flirtation than an obsession. An enticement rather than an actual wooing. Hell, who was he kidding? He simply wanted to bed her.

Lay her down until he'd had his fill of her. Because then he'd find out she was just like any other woman, only a cheat and a liar to boot. Then he could let her go and be free of this persistent urge to find out just what it was about Miss Desirée Severin that drew him to her.

For he was drawn to her in ways he'd never felt before.

But sooner or later, he was going to take Desirée to his brother, the marshal. Sooner or later, she was going to either return his mother's wedding band or find herself sitting in the county jail for more than just a day or two.

Regardless of what his mother thought, Desirée was not going to get away with stealing from his family.

She was not going to use his mother to finance her shady parlor business, no matter how companionable the woman became to his lonely mother or himself.

Someday his wife and children would occupy his mother's spare time. But no one was going to saddle him with a woman like Miss Severin. Ornery, belligerent and admittedly sexy as hell. No, when he decided it was time to settle down, he wanted a woman who was meek and gentle. One who would run his household, bear his children, and look to him to make all the decisions. He didn't need a woman who kept him stirred up worse than a hornet's nest in summertime.

He wanted a woman who was sensible, truthful, no-nonsense; a woman who liked sex and wanted children.

It didn't seem like too much to expect from the person you were going to spend the rest of your days with. He just hadn't found the time or the energy to go looking for this woman. And somehow, the enigmatic Miss Severin just didn't seem to fit his description of the gal he was looking for.

In fact, the thought of marrying her was just a little unnerving.

He punched the pillow again. Actually, the thought was more like a nightmare, only his eyes were open and his mind was foggy with weariness.

The thought of toppling Desirée onto his bed and relieving his frustration was tempting and delightfully wicked, but she was not marriageable.

There was very little he was certain about in this life, but one thing he'd bet the Bar None on: Desirée Severin might make her living speaking to the dead, but he was certain she knew how to breathe life back into a man. And he'd pretend to be dead, if only she would resuscitate him at least once. Nothing permanent, just a momentary lapse of conscience where she could put her luscious lips on his and restore him to life.

Desirée was beautiful and seductive, she was spirited and exciting, and she was tempting beyond words. But for the sake of his heart, he couldn't let himself be tempted into forgetting she was a sweet, cunning con artist and a thief besides.

***

The next morning Rose awoke early, her mind filled with memories from the night before. Tenderly, she touched her still-wrapped hands and found them sensitive, but not painful, as she'd feared.

Though the sun was barely over the horizon, the sound of people moving downstairs drifted upward, riding a wave of tempting aroma. Swinging her legs over the side of the mattress, she reached for the remainder of her dress at the foot of the bed. Her petticoat would no doubt show clearly through the rips and tears in the calico material.

With nothing else to put on, she hurried down the stairs, her mind filled with thoughts of how Travis would receive her this morning. She touched her fingertips to her lips and remembered the caress of his mouth against hers, the tempting heat of his body, and the fact she'd considered falling into his bed.