One Heart to Win (32 page)

“Two beds.”

“We only have two dry blankets left, one to lie down on and one for a cover. So don’t be a prude tonight, Red. I don’t hanker catching a cold for this good deed.”

It wasn’t the least bit cold! Of course she was the one wearing his jacket, so she didn’t argue about it. The temperature was likely to plummet during the night, rain or no, so he wasn’t exaggerating. Each night she’d left her windows open at the ranch, she’d woken in the morning buried under her blankets, the room chilled.

He hooked the blankets around his neck before climbing the ladder, then had her toss him the pillow so she could follow him up. But throwing something wasn’t as easy as it looked, at least not over her head. She missed five times getting the pillow to go in Hunter’s direction, which had them both laughing before she made it.

Light from the lantern under the loft reached most of the
exposed rafters, but the loft itself was left in dim shadows, though it was certainly enough light to see by. She helped Hunter lay the blanket after he spread the hay. The remaining stacked bales enclosed the makeshift bed like a wraparound headboard.

He removed his gun holster first, then his belt, before he sat down on the blanket to take off his boots and socks and toss them aside. He then stretched out on his back on one side of the blanket. She’d been looking at him. She hadn’t meant to, but she was getting a little nervous over this sleeping arrangement. When he opened the top button on his pants, her eyes flared wide.

She gasped. “What are you doing?!”

He chuckled. “Not what you think. Just getting a little more comfortable. I’m not exactly used to sleeping in my clothes, but don’t worry, they’re staying on.”

She swung around to give him her back and hide her embarrassment. Had he deliberately planted that image of his undressing in her mind? It was definitely there, and she was suddenly sweltering from heat again.

She slid out of the jacket, but that didn’t seem to help. She finally sat down and took off her shoes. She wasn’t about to get under the blanket yet, as hot as she was now.

“You could share that pillow,” he suggested idly behind her. “I’m told I have a soft arm you could use as one.”

“No.”

“My chest is even more comfortable.”

“No!”

“Worth a try.”

She couldn’t see it but she could hear the grin in his tone.
She relented enough to toss him his jacket. “Use that for a pillow.”

She caught his sigh as she lay down on her side of the blanket, as far away from him as she could get, barely an inch from the edge of the blanket. There had to be at least a foot or two between them. Then why did it feel as if they were touching?

“Snuggle if you get cold, Jenny. I promise I won’t mind.”

Humor was in his tone, but he’d turned away from her as he said it, so she didn’t bother answering. She did try to sleep, she really did. But she simply couldn’t get comfortable. Her nerves were frayed. Her skin felt so taut. Even her breathing wouldn’t settle down. She was aware of and embarrassed by every sound she was making simply because he was making none.

It must have been an hour later that he said, “Get some sleep, Red. It will be morning before you know it, hopefully with some sun shining.”

“I’ve never in my life had to share a bed,” she whispered back. “I’m not doing it very well, I’m afraid.”

“There’s nothing to it. Cuddle if it’s cold. Stay as far apart as possible if you’re too hot. Kick me if I snore. I’ll try not to do the same if you snore.”

She almost laughed. She did relax a little, so she knew that was his intent and thanked him silently. But ten minutes later she was tossing again. She at least tried to do it more quietly now since she realized she’d been keeping him awake, too.

This was such a bad idea. If she knew how to saddle a horse, she’d ride back to the ranch house herself despite the rain. She had to resign herself to not getting any sleep tonight with this man so close to her.

Then she heard him snoring softly. She opened her eyes.
She was facing him. Big mistake. Having had her eyes closed for so long, that dim lantern light below seemed much too bright now. She could see Hunter too clearly. It was actually the first time she could look at him for any length of time without his knowing it and her feeling embarrassed. She took full advantage of that.

He was on his back again, an arm behind his head. His shirt was mostly unbuttoned. His body was so long! And hard, the muscles so clearly defined. He’d given her leave to snuggle, an excuse to touch him. No, no! She didn’t dare. She remembered what had happened when she’d sat on his lap that night in the kitchen. If she got closer to him and started touching him, she had a feeling she might not stop, and then he’d wake and . . . and . . . She shied away from that thought, but it still spread heat all over her and turned her breathing heavy.

And she still couldn’t take her eyes off him. She even looked where she’d never dared to before, at the bulge between his legs. She knew what it was. Her mother had been thorough in explaining the intimacy of the marriage bed to her, even describing the male body and the changes it would undergo in that bed. On Hunter it looked a little too big. That had to be uncomfortable for him. Then her eyes flared wide. Did it really just move?

Several minutes later she realized he wasn’t snoring anymore. Her gaze shot up to his face to find his eyes open and staring at her.

“You weren’t asleep?” she whispered.

He groaned before he admitted, “I faked it, so you could relax. Why aren’t you asleep?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t know! She was just so pent up with what he made her feel, and he hadn’t even been trying to make her feel anything, just the opposite. But it was still there,
the heat coursing through her, the high tempo of her pulse, the fraught tension, as if something inside her were going to explode if it didn’t get out.

It must have been some yearning in her expression that made him groan again. “It was killing me, but I swore I wouldn’t take advantage of you tonight.”

“Swore to whom?”

“Myself.”

“Unswear.”

Did she really say that? She must have because she met him halfway in the middle of that blanket. The explosion did occur, all her inhibitions let go. She was kissing him, aggressively, passionately, and soaking in every nuance of his doing the same. But it wasn’t enough. God, she couldn’t get close enough to him.

He tore off his shirt, pulled her loose blouse off so quickly she barely noticed. His skin was so hot she was afraid to touch it, but she did anyway, had to, thought she would scream if she couldn’t. Something was still building in her. Kissing him was immensely pleasant, deeply satisfying, but it still didn’t stop the clamoring inside her for something else.

“How do you make me feel like I’m going to die if I don’t taste you? All of you.”

Even as he said it he began to do that. It was too much and yet she wouldn’t have stopped him for the world. Down her neck and shoulders, to her breasts and beyond. He’d been serious, he intended to kiss and taste every inch of her. He even licked her palms and sucked on every finger! Everything tingled even as she was scalded by the heat of his mouth.

“Help me,” she gasped when she could catch a breath. She couldn’t catch many she was panting so hard.

“Anything. Just tell me—”

“Now!”

She didn’t even know what she was begging for. An end certainly. It was too much pleasure all at once and yet, not enough. That didn’t even make sense in her frazzled mind. But he knew, and an ecstatic cry was wrenched from her as he gave her what she needed, him, in the deepest part of her. She held on tightly to him, her arms wrapped around his neck as the throbbing waves were soon flowing through her clear to her curling toes. She could never have imagined something so beautiful and perfectly satisfying to burst from so much frantic yearning.

She continued to marvel at what he’d given her even as she heard him reach his own ecstasy. After a few more moments he moved to her side, pulling her with him. She felt his lips soft on her brow and then a final kiss, so tender, so—loving. She would probably have cried from the emotion it inspired if she weren’t still surrounded by such lush languor she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. She’d sort it out in the morning, but right then, she finally felt comfortable enough to snuggle against him and fall asleep.

Chapter Forty-One

T
IFFANY WOKE FIRST BUT
didn’t move an inch. She was facing away from Hunter but could still feel the length of him pressed to her back and curled legs. Her head was on an arm he’d extended. His hand rested on the pillow she was staring at on the far side of the blanket. Neither of them had ended up using that pillow. That might have made her laugh if she wasn’t feeling so—so—like tears were imminent.

She was going to have to lie to him, a lot. She’d have to tell him that what had happened was a mistake and that it couldn’t happen again. Fiancé, honor of that commitment, she’d break out every excuse, even the truth if she had to. Because what they’d done
was
a mistake.

“Ready to go find a preacher?”

She blinked. That didn’t sound like a philanderer talking. He was probably just teasing. Of course he was, that
was
his forte, after all. By the end of the week she would be gone with her mother’s permission. Hunter would never have to find out
who she really was. He would forget her completely—and why did she feel like crying?

He suddenly leaned up to kiss her bare shoulder, then her cheek. “You’re going to be the prettiest bride the territory has ever seen.”

Oh, God, he was serious? Tears filled her eyes, he sounded so happy! What had she done, giving herself to this incredible man she couldn’t have? He didn’t even know who she really was. If he did . . .

She stood up abruptly and started dressing. “I can’t talk about this right now. I—I didn’t expect this to happen.”

“I understand. You’re probably feeling bad because of that man you said you’d marry, but don’t. He was a fool to let you get away. You have to know by now he wasn’t right for you.”

Every word he said was making her feel worse. He wanted to marry a woman who didn’t exist.

She swiped at her cheeks to remove the wetness before she said, “I want to get back to the ranch before anyone discovers we were out all night.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a lot of explaining to do to my pa, but I don’t care, I’m telling him I’m marrying you, not Tiffany Warren.”

The tears returned with a vengeance. She continued to swipe at them. He didn’t notice since he was dressing.

“So you don’t want Caleb’s breakfast first?”

“I’m not hungry,” she lied, praying her stomach wouldn’t betray her. “If you could just saddle me a horse, I can probably find my way back easy enough.”

“You know that’s not happening, you riding alone. But we can head out now if you want. Come to think of it, I’d rather have your cooking anyway, as good as it’s gotten.”

She didn’t get a chance to reply to that compliment. He suddenly swung her about, right into his arms, and kissed her lazily.

“Good morning, Red.” He grinned down at her. “It is, ain’t it? Best damn morning ever!”

He let her go with a gentle swat to her rump, shrugged into his shirt without buttoning it yet, and headed down the ladder. She dropped to her knees as soon as he was out of sight and let the tears flow freely. Why did he have to be a cowboy? Why couldn’t she have met him in New York? Of course then everything she liked about him wouldn’t be there. He wouldn’t
be
Hunter, teasing, laughing, charming, carefree, courageous, gallant—Hunter.

It was a short ride back to the ranch. Not actually short, just much faster than last night’s ride. He stopped at the front porch so she could go on inside before he put the horses away. She was off the horse before he could dismount to help her. But she didn’t make it inside the house before he could detain her.

He did that with the suggestion “How about joining me on a picnic at the lake sometime this week?”

She groaned to herself. But she needed to act naturally, say what he expected to hear. She couldn’t tell him yet why she wouldn’t marry him. She would start crying again if she tried. Last night had been so beautiful!
Why
did she have to find that out?

So she turned and said, “If you’ll fish for dinner.” Then, realizing Jennifer wouldn’t have said that, she added, “I suppose you expect me to fill a basket with food for it?”

“No, of course not!” He was lying, he’d obviously thought just that. “I can arrange for a basket from town.”

It might have been a fun thing to do if she didn’t have new
dilemmas to deal with now. But it might also be her last opportunity to talk
him
into doing something about the feud that didn’t include violence. Obviously she couldn’t do it now. She was simply going to slip away in a few days and be gone without any good-byes, and maybe without having to meet her father at all—which was the only bright spot in all this bleakness.

She nodded and slipped inside, but didn’t get far enough away not to hear, “Red, get my pa. Looks like trouble is riding in.”