Whirlwind Groom (24 page)

He lifted his head, breathing hard, his eyes burning with blue fire. “What is it?” he rasped. His gaze riveted on her mouth, he skimmed his thumb across her bottom lip, wet from his.

He stared at her as if she were the first woman he'd ever seen and a consuming swell of heat spread from her heart to her toes. She could barely catch her breath. “I want to tell you about my family. About William.”

“I want you to tell me, too. Later.” He took her mouth again.

She might never have more than this with him. There was no protecting her heart now, no resisting this man who touched the core of her in a way no other ever had. His kisses turned her entire body boneless, numbed her mind. Her reason began to splinter. “Davis Lee.”

“Let me love you, Josie,” he breathed against her lips.

She was lost. “Yes,” she said on a ragged moan. “Yes.”

Her agreement unlocked something desperate inside both of them. She crushed her mouth to his, locked her arms around his neck. He slid an arm beneath her legs and lifted her, making his way past the stove. Heat from the fireplace drifted around them then ebbed away.

As he shouldered open his bedroom door, his hand found her breast. By the time they tumbled onto his bed, he had her bodice half-unbuttoned. “No blade?” he asked against her lips.

“Can't with this blouse…in my skirt pocket.” She helped him with the rest of her top, fighting her way out of the garment while his hand moved to her ankles.

He made quick work of the buttons on her boots. She toed them off as she reached behind her and unhooked her skirt, glad she'd again gone without a corset. Her fingers tangled with his as he unfastened her petticoat. He dragged it off along with her skirt, his hand going between her legs to cup her through the slit in her underwear.

Sliding her arms around his hard shoulders, she pressed into his touch, whispering his name. He pulled away, his features sharp with desire as he looked down at her, reaching for the buttons at the top of her undergarment. “I want this thing off. I want to touch you
right now
and I don't want to rip it.”

Her breathing was as labored as his. “I have another one.”

His wicked grin sent her pulse cartwheeling as his fingers moved nimbly down her front.

He was freeing the last couple of buttons when her hand slid down his taut stomach into his trousers. His muscles clenched; his mouth found hers. She undid the top button of his pants then the next, nipping at his jaw, lightly biting his ear.

The finespun fabric of her combination parted. His callused hands were on her breasts, his thumbs teasing the hard nubs of her nipples. As his mouth closed over the taut flesh, she arched into the wet, velvet heat, moving her hand to push her undergarment off.

He helped, lifting her against him and stripping off the combination suit along with her stockings. His eyes were hot with a raw need she'd never seen in another man. The same need that burned in her blood. She wanted to be part of him, wanted him to be part of her. The only thing that mattered was this man. Right here, right now.

He swept a hand over her hip as their mouths fused. She released the last button on his pants as his work-roughened palm slid to her stomach then between her legs, delving two fingers into her silky heat. When he pushed deep, she nearly came off the bed.

The flat of his thumb massaged the knot of nerves between her legs and she broke apart. Seconds, minutes later, she reached down and stroked him hard, urging him to her. The feel of his hot rigid flesh against her slick softness destroyed her last coherent thought.

He rose over her. “I don't want to hurt you. Is this your first time?”

“Second,” she whispered, waiting for his reaction.

“Still sure?”

“Yes.” She urged him forward. “Are you?”

“Yes.” He slid inside her then paused, his muscles quivering with restraint.

He didn't seem bothered that she'd been with William once before. His hair-dusted chest heaved against her smooth one; his skin was sheened with sweat and shadow. Even in the dusky light, she could see his eyes blazing with such naked emotion that her heart ached. Her legs tightened around him. “Don't wait, Davis Lee,” she begged. “Don't wait.”

He moved deep and sure, steadily driving her up a dizzying peak; her hips met every stroke of his body. He laced his fingers with hers and brought their arms over her head, kissing her, possessing her, coaxing her to surrender every bit of herself. When she felt the tiny urgent pulses inside her, his muscles bunched and he went over the edge with her.

When his whole weight pressed her into the mattress, she held him tight, stroking the supple skin of his shoulders, the long line of his back. Moonlight washed over them. His breathing was ragged, his flesh slick on hers. He pressed
hot, openmouthed kisses down the side of her neck. One hand curled possessively around her breast.

He smiled against her temple. “I didn't even get to see your hair down.”

She laughed softly, still trying to catch her breath. “I can take it down now.”

“Let me.” He rose up on one elbow and worked her hairpins out then placed them at the bottom of the mattress.

Undoing her chignon, he threaded his fingers through the chestnut strands and brought the mass to his face, inhaling deeply. He shifted to give her a soft kiss then, as if he couldn't help himself, another one.

She moved her hands over the tough sinew of his shoulders, the lean tautness of his hips, his rock-hard arms, touching and learning him the way he was her. He rolled to his side, taking her with him, holding her tight.

They lay like that for a long time. Lulled by the musky scent of their loving, Josie savored the feel of his arms around her, knowing this night might be only a memory, not the beginning of a future. Pale light filtered into the room and she drowsily made out a tall closet against the opposite wall. A pitcher and basin gleamed white on the washstand at the foot of the bed. The tangy scent of shaving soap teased the air. Far away, a cow bawled. Through the window she could hear the chirp of crickets.

She loved him. She knew he cared about her. Hopeful now, she knew there could be no more secrets between them. “Davis Lee?”

When he didn't answer, she lifted her head. He was asleep. She pressed a soft kiss to his lips and snuggled into him. When he woke, she would tell him everything.

 

Voices woke her, low and definitely masculine. Josie opened her eyes, saw the tall closet fronted by a pair of dusty black boots. She recognized the room as Davis Lee's.
Memory flooded back and heat flushed her body. She rolled to her back, pulling up the sheet and quilt. Without his warmth, the bed was chilly.

She wished she'd woken before him. That would've given her a little time to deal with the anxiety knotting her stomach. The uncertainty of how he would respond was as unsettling as finally talking about something she'd kept to herself for two years.

Not knowing who was in Davis Lee's front room, she wondered if she should get dressed then decided she should wait, for discretion's sake. She lay still and quiet in the bed. The voices stopped and she heard the front door creak shut.

She sat up, keeping the sheet over her breasts as she shoved the tangled mass of her hair over her shoulder. After a long minute, she heard the soft thud of footsteps, but Davis Lee didn't appear in the doorway. Curious, Josie slid out of bed, holding the sheet wrapped around her. She tiptoed to the door and peered around the frame to make sure he was alone.

He was. Wearing only his trousers, he stood in the middle of the room. His back was to her and he stared down at something he held. He lifted a hand to the nape of his neck, the muscles in his arms and shoulders rippling. She stepped out of the bedroom. “Good morning,” she said softly.

He turned. There was a piece of paper in his hand, but it was the rigidness of his body, the guarded look on his face that held her attention. Concerned, she took a step toward him. “What is it? What's happened?”

He stared at her, his eyes dark with something she couldn't define. His words were measured, controlled. “Ian McDougal murdered your parents.”

Her heart skipped a beat. How had he guessed? It didn't matter. She was going to tell him anyway. She pulled the sheet tighter around her nakedness. “Yes.”

“And William.”

“Yes.” She nodded, suddenly immobilized by an icy, invading sense of suffocation. “I was going to tell you last night—”

“Tell me what? Why you came to Whirlwind?”

There was no missing the hurt, the accusation in his silky, razor-edged words. What was on that piece of paper? Where had he gotten it? “Yes.”

“Let
me
tell
you.
You came for Ian's trial.”

She nodded cautiously. “To see that he gets justice.”

“And I'll make sure he does, one way or another.” Davis Lee stepped closer, his eyes flinty with suspicion. “Since you know I want him punished as badly as you do, I have to wonder why you wouldn't tell me that's your reason for being here. Unless there's more, which I assume there is.”

“Davis Lee—”

“So I asked myself, ‘Why would Josie not want me to know that her parents and fiancé were murdered by the worthless sonovabitch sitting in my jail?'” His voice was as hard as the hubs of hell. “Because you came to kill him.”

“Yes.”

“And you were gonna use me to do it.”

“No!”

“I
'm not using you.” Josie's heart slammed into her chest as she stared into eyes that were flat and remote. “I mean, it may have started out that way, but it's not like that now.”

“That's rich. I don't know why I didn't see it.” The black fury in his face sent a quiver through her. “When I confronted you in the alley, you'd been watching the jail for four days so you could figure out my comings and goings.”

“Yes.”

“The day I caught you in my jail, were you there to kill him?”

She wanted to look away, turn away, but she didn't. “Yes.”

“Well, you sold me a bill of goods, didn't you? Made me believe you wanted shooting lessons.”

“You were suspicious of me every moment,” she cried.

“For good reason.”

“I really did want the shooting lessons.”

“Not really,” he said, his voice hard-edged and sharp.

“I did. I wanted to learn how to use a gun,” she said firmly.

“To kill McDougal in case you couldn't use your scalpel.”

She hesitated then nodded.

“I started putting it together after you asked Jake to take over your shooting lessons. It didn't slip past me that, of all the men you could've asked for help, the one you asked was my deputy. The one other man who had access to Ian almost as frequently as I did.”

“I admit that.” Wary of the seething anger that he barely restrained, she asked quietly, “How did you learn all this?”

“I haven't had both eyes closed. I wired the sheriff in Galveston about you,” he said savagely. “After that snakebite. You'd already gotten my attention by moving into the hotel room that looks right down on my jail.”

“That was a long time ago.” She knew she had no right to feel betrayed, but that didn't stop the hurt she felt at his mistrust. “Why didn't you say anything?”

“Isn't that what I should be asking you? I sent more than one telegram, waiting for Galveston's telegraph machine to start operating again after the hurricane. I still haven't heard from Sheriff Locke.”

“But you have a telegram in your hand. How—”

“This is from my cousin. I wired Jericho in Houston and asked him to ride to Galveston. He talked to Sheriff Locke there, who knew you. Not just because your father was well respected, but because you frequented his office every week asking for news of the McDougal gang.”

Her head spun, her thoughts raced. She had wanted to tell Davis Lee the truth, but now that he knew there was no relief in it for her. Only a low drum of apprehension.

“And when you heard that three of the McDougals had been killed, and Ian was awaiting trial here, you came to Whirlwind. How am I doing so far?”

“All of that is true.” When she had arrived, using Davis Lee's access to the prisoner had been her plan, but not any longer.

“Every minute you've spent with me has been for the
purpose of getting information about or access to that lowlifer.”

“No. Not for a long time, Davis Lee.”

“Yeah? How long?”

“I'm…not sure.” She tried to recall when her feelings had changed, when he had become more important than justice for her murdered family. “I think it was the first time you kissed me.”

“Really? Maybe it was the night I told you about one of the worst things that's happened in my life? Or what about last night? You can say your feelings for me changed then,” he said bitterly. “That you didn't sleep with me for any other reason than you wanted to.”

“That
is
the only reason! I wanted to be with you. I still do. I—”
Love you.
She snapped her mouth shut, angry at herself for not telling him everything last night, at him for turning what they'd shared last night into something calculated and base. “What happened between us had nothing to do with McDougal and you know it. Don't try to say it didn't mean anything.”

“It didn't.”

She flinched. “I know you're hurt and angry. Yes, I should've told you why I came to Whirlwind. Ian murdered my family—”

“You don't have to tell me now. I already know.”

“I'm telling you anyway.” The past crashed over her, heavy and dark. The words spilled out; she hoped they made sense. “He killed my parents and William, who was there for dinner, and he would've killed me, but I wasn't home yet. But then I came home.”

“Ian acted alone in this?” Davis Lee gave her a look that said she might as well try to convince him that roosters laid eggs. “The McDougals never did anything by themselves.”

“Well, Ian did! My father was considered one of the most knowledgeable doctors in Texas about tuberculosis. I think
that's why Ian came to see him that night. There were posters about the McDougals in Sheriff Locke's office, all over town. The whole state knew about those outlaws and what they'd done. I think Papa recognized Ian and either tried to get rid of him so he could contact the law or tried to send my mother or William for Sheriff Locke. That's when Ian killed them.

“I saw him, I saw his face. He ran out of my house and full-bore into me. We both fell. His gun flew out of his hand, but it was dark and he couldn't find it. I screamed and screamed until he ran away. When I got into the house, I found them. Mama, Papa, William. All dead. Blood everywhere.” She wiped angrily at the tears coursing down her cheeks. “I identified Ian and he was arrested. The sheriff put him in jail. I thought he'd pay for what he did, but there was this judge—I told you about him—Judge Horn. He had a grudge because my mother rejected him more than twenty years ago. And out of pure spite, he let Ian go, let him walk away.”

She pressed a hand to her trembling mouth, trying to stop from crying. Why couldn't he understand?

“It's not that I don't think he needs killin'.”

“Then why are you so angry?”

“You know why,” he said flatly. “The only thing you've cared about since you got here is Ian McDougal. You wanted information. You wanted to keep a close eye on him. I understand
that.
What I don't understand is how you could use me to get what you wanted. How you could go to my bed last night and believe keeping that from me was all right.”

“I
didn't
think it was all right. It was wrong.
I
was wrong.” She didn't know how to convince him or even if she could. “At first, I kept it from you because I didn't want you to talk me out of it.”

“Or arrest you,” he muttered.

She moved closer. He backed away and she felt it like a blow. Fisting both hands in the sheet, she wrapped her arms tight around her middle. “Then I kept quiet because I didn't want it to look like you were involved. And then I wasn't sure that I was going to kill him. I thought if I could figure out who else might want him dead, I wouldn't have to do it. I went to the newspaper and read back as far as I could, trying to learn everyone the McDougals had hurt, trying to find a way to make Ian pay without killing him myself. But there is no one else. This is what I was going to tell you last night. I tried. Remember? I said I wanted you to know about my family, about William. And then—”

“Ah, yes, you cut yourself. Did you do
that
on purpose? So you could play on my sympathy?”

“No.”

“And sleeping with me before you told me the truth was what? An accident?” His lips twisted. “Oh, let me guess. You slept with me because you couldn't resist me.”

“I couldn't,” she acceded sadly. “Things happened so fast between us. I was wrong not to say something, but that doesn't mean that I…did
that
with you for any reason other than wanting to be with you. The night I was attacked, I was out walking so late because I was thinking about you, about us. I was trying to figure out a way not to kill Ian. I thought about telling you then.”

“But that wasn't a good time either, was it?” he scoffed.

“I didn't tell you because I was afraid you wouldn't understand.”

“You didn't tell me because it would've eliminated your access to him. The only reason you got close to me is so you could get information about McDougal.” He cursed. “Did you think one night with you would make me let down my guard? Did you come here last night to seduce me, Josie? You did a damn fine job of it. I was so crazy for you I couldn't see straight.”

“Don't believe that, Davis Lee. Please,” she whispered hoarsely. She didn't remember moving, but she stood inches from him. One hand curved over his forearm. “You know it wasn't like that.”

He shook her off. “If you weren't using me, then why not tell me everything about your family? What did you hope to accomplish by crawling into my bed? Freer access to McDougal? Maybe you thought I'd kill him for you. Or that I'd fall so hard for you that I'd escort you to the jail and watch you put a bullet in him.”

“Last night, I came to tell you the truth.” Anger slid into her blood and spread. She said evenly, “I should have done it, and I'm sorry I didn't. I'm sorry I hurt you, but I didn't
plan
on falling into bed with you. You have to believe that.”

“No. I don't.” His eyes were bleak and hard, unyielding. “Sounds like you didn't plan on a lot of things.”

“I didn't plan on you at all.”
I certainly didn't plan on you being the first man since William's death to make me feel something besides regret or pain.
Her voice shook, but she forced herself to continue, to keep her gaze on his. “I was going to come here and make sure Ian McDougal paid for at least three of the murders he's committed, but I met you. When I was bitten by that snake, you took care of me. And you were patient when you taught me to shoot. Then the other night, in the alley, I know you saved my life. I didn't plan on your kindness or your compassion or liking you so much.”

“And now you're going to say you have feelings for me?”

“I do!” She inched closer, desperate to make him understand. “Do you think it was easy for me to accept that I was growing to care for you? I owe my family what the law wouldn't give them.” Temper spiking, her voice rose. “Getting involved with you made me question what I'd come to do. Question my loyalty to the people who loved
me. How do you think it made me feel to know I was willing to turn my back on them in order to have something with you? Would you have handled things so much better?”

“We're not talkin' about me.” The words cracked the air like gunshots. His eyes were vicious with anger and hurt. “Put on your clothes and go.”

He wasn't going to budge. Hope drained out of her. “I deeply regret not getting all of this out in the open last night, but I'm not sorry about what we shared.”

“All right, I'll be the one to go.” He stalked past her and into his bedroom.

Her chest tight with pain, she followed.

He snatched his boots from in front of the wardrobe, yanked open its door and pulled out a shirt, dropping it over his head. Stone-faced, he pushed by her and went back into the front room where he grabbed a pair of the freshly darned socks she'd brought then sat down hard in the nearest dining chair. Quick as lightning, he had on his socks and boots, then rose, skirted the broken glass still on the floor and strode toward the door.

Alarmed, she took a step toward him. “Are you really leaving?”

The look he threw over his shoulder was brutal enough to buckle her knees. His gaze raked her. “It would be best if you were gone when I get back.”

He walked out, leaving her standing in his front room wrapped in a sheet.

 

“Do I have rocks in my head?” Davis Lee asked his brother an hour later at the jail. Just thinking about Josie made him mad enough to bite a bullet plumb in two.

With a vicious flick of his wrist, he skinned his blade down the bark of the sixth stick of pine he'd whittled since leaving his house. “Am I as dumb as a bucket of dirt? I knew she was hiding something. I
knew
it, but I got involved
with her anyway. You'd think I didn't have the sense to spit downwind.”

Riley had settled into the chair behind Davis Lee's desk and put his feet up on the edge. “Seems there's a fine line here, brother. I mean, you really can't know for sure that she's lying about wanting to tell you the truth and when she planned to do it.”

“Oh, I know it, all right.”

“You must care a lot about her if you're this het up.”

Davis Lee pointed his knife at his brother. “You sound like an old maid. What I care about is that the woman lied to me.”

“All I know is when I got
this
mad at a woman, it meant I had feelings for her.”

From his perch on the corner of his desk, Davis Lee stared him down. Riley held up a hand in mock surrender. “Hey, I'm just makin' an observation. Should I remind you of how you got in my face when Susannah and I had a fallin'-out?”

“That was different. You were married. You knew you loved her.”

His brother eyed him shrewdly. “I didn't, but it took me nearly losin' her to figure that out. Don't be as chuckle-headed as I was.”

Davis Lee shaved off another curl of wood with a particularly vicious downstroke of his knife. “This is nowhere near the same. I don't love Josie. And Susannah didn't lie to you, didn't…use you to get something.”

Davis Lee had told Riley that Josie had used him to get information about McDougal, but not that she had slept with him for the same reason. Though he could tell by the steadiness in his brother's blue eyes that Riley knew. “You know what really burns me? I gave her more than one chance to come clean. I even told her about Rock River.”

“What?”
Riley's boots hit the floor with a sharp thud
and he sat straight up. “That means something even if you don't want to admit it.”