The Horseman's Son (15 page)

But he prayed for the alternative.

That Collena hadn’t answered because she was hiding and hadn’t wanted to give away her position.

Dylan focused his aim and his attention on the oak that Rodney was using for cover. The seconds seemed like an eternity. But still, Dylan waited. Until Rodney leaned out a second time to take another shot.

Dylan fired first.

Rodney jerked back, and howled in pain. Dylan had hit him. And hopefully stopped him.

There was some movement in the woods to Rodney’s right. There, among the dark shadows of the trees, Dylan saw Collena.

She was alive.

And then he saw something else that terrified him.

Just as the sheriff’s vehicle pulled onto the road, Rodney came out from cover and took aim.

At Collena.

Dylan didn’t have to re-aim. He already had his gun trained on the spot where he’d last seen Rodney. And Dylan didn’t hesitate. He shouted for Collena to get down, and he fired at Rodney twice.

And he watched as both shots went into the man’s chest.

“The medics just pronounced Rodney Harmon dead,” Jonah Burke announced from the doorway of the family room.

Collena didn’t feel guilty. In fact, it was the news she’d wanted to hear. Yes, a man was dead, but that man had come within a hair of killing both Dylan and her. If Dylan hadn’t stopped Rodney with those bullets, she would have spent the rest of her life in fear that he would come after her again.

This way, she was free.

And she could thank Dylan for that.

Of course, Dylan wasn’t in a receptive mood. She could see the tension still straining the muscles in his face. Heck, she could see that tension in his every movement, even though he was trying to be gentle as he cleaned the scrapes on her hands and knees.

“What about the P.I.s?” Collena asked.

“They were both taken to the hospital. You’ll get an update as soon as there’s an update to give.” Jonah’s voice was edgy, and Collena suspected he wasn’t thrilled about making another trip out to the ranch.

“Your cop friend, Katelyn O’Malley, is okay. She’s with the sheriff out at the crime scene,” Jonah continued, his voice gaining edginess with each spoken word. “And I’m here with you two. Lucky me.”

Collena tried to suppress a wince when Dylan dabbed antiseptic on the scraped knee. She wasn’t successful. And Dylan noticed. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt much.”

Dylan made a sound to indicate he didn’t believe that, so Collena caught his chin and lifted it to force eye contact. “I’m
really
not hurt. These scrapes are minor. And everything will be okay.”

Judging from the set of his jaw, Dylan didn’t believe that, either, and Collena understood what he was going through. He was blaming himself, even though he’d done everything humanly possible to stop the kidnapping.

“Could we cut the tender moments,” Jonah snarled, “and get back to business? I’m supposed to collect Collena’s clothes and interview the two of you about what happened. Oh, and that’s a separate interview from the one I still need to do about Curtis Reese’s death. You two are just racking up the dead bodies, aren’t you?”

Collena ignored the jab and pointed to the paper bag near the door. “My clothes are all in there. Everything is bagged and tagged.”

She’d anticipated that the items would be needed for evidence. Besides, she hadn’t wanted to wear them. They smelled of Rodney Harmon. As soon as Dylan had brought her back to the house, she’d changed into a loose blue dress so her scraped knees could be cleaned.

Jonah leaned down and glanced inside the bag. He didn’t seem pleased that she had done a small part of his job for him. “And what about the interviews? Let’s get them done, too.”

Collena glanced at the clock on the mantel. It wasn’t that late, just past ten at night, but she was beyond exhausted.

“You’re leaving now, Jonah,” Dylan insisted. He set the antiseptic and gauze aside on the coffee table, stood and walked to Jonah. “Any statements and interviews can wait until morning.”

Jonah put his hands on his hips, and his nostrils flared. “I have to do my job.”

“If you’d been doing your job, Rodney Harmon wouldn’t have had the opportunity to kidnap Collena.”

His nostrils flared even more. “Don’t try to pin it on me. That man was on Collena’s tail before she even came to the ranch. She brought him here.”

Dylan didn’t say a word. He glared at Jonah, and the deputy must have decided it wasn’t a good time to pick a fight with Dylan.

“I’ll be back bright and early in the morning,” Jonah snapped. He grabbed the bag from the floor. “And you’re going to give me those statements.” He turned and nearly ran into Ina. He didn’t offer her so much as a hello before he stormed away.

“You doing okay?” Ina asked them.

“Yes,” Collena lied. “How’s Adam?”

“Sound asleep. He doesn’t have a clue what happened.”

Good. Collena wanted to keep it that way. If she could erase the memory of Rodney Harmon from her own memory, she would.

Ina looked at Dylan. “I moved Adam’s crib back into the nursery. I figured you two had enough to handle so I’ll stay in there with him tonight.”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

“I’ll also reset the security system and make sure all the doors are locked.” Ina didn’t linger, probably because she, too, looked exhausted. It’d been such a long, horrible night, but maybe, just maybe, they would get some peace.

Dylan went to the security monitor and checked the nursery. Collena got up from the sofa and went to his side. Ina had been right—Adam was sleeping.

“You need some rest,” Dylan insisted, looping his arm around her waist. He led her in the direction of her suite.

Collena almost protested, because she didn’t want to be alone tonight. Not after what’d happened. But she went anyway since Dylan probably didn’t have the energy to play nursemaid for her. He’d tended her scrapes. He’d bullied Jonah into leaving and waiting on those statements. Now, he probably wanted time alone to try to come to terms with the fact that he’d killed a man.

“Rodney’s dead,” Dylan said. He opened her suite door and eased her just inside the room. “He can’t hurt you again.”

Not trusting her voice, she nodded. “Thank you for saving my life.”

Something went through his eyes. Not gratitude for her thank-you. It was something dark that went bone deep. Probably something to do with this latest incident bringing back old memories of his sister’s and fiancée’s deaths.

He reached out and skimmed his fingers over her chin. “Try to get some sleep.”

She nodded. But didn’t move.

Dylan didn’t move, either. Nor did he take his fingers from her chin. His touch was warm.

Comforting.

He groaned, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. “I should go,” he added. “You’re hurt, and you’re tired.”

But he didn’t go.

Collena just stood there, waiting, to see where this was leading. She didn’t have to wait long.

Dylan stepped closer. So close that she took in his scent. Sweat mixed with the cedars from the woods. And Dylan’s own scent was there, too.

She felt the shiver of heat before his hand moved from her chin to the back of her neck. She saw matching heat in the depth of his searing green eyes.

“This is wrong,” he admitted. Right before his mouth came to hers.

He kissed her gently, his lips shaping hers with soft pressure. His touch was equally gentle. A real contrast. Since she could feel his strength beneath the clever fingers that glided over her skin.

“This is wrong,” he repeated. “But unless you say no, I won’t stop.”

With that, he kissed her again, and Collena melted against him. Dylan was probably right—this was wrong. But she wasn’t going to say no. She wasn’t going to stop, either. She wanted him in her bed. In her arms.

She just wanted him.

So, Collena didn’t resist when he backed her into the suite and shut the door. And why should she resist? His looks alone could have seduced her. The bronze-colored hair tangled around his perfectly chiseled face. Those eyes, filled with longing and need.

Everything slowed down. Her heartbeat. Her breathing. Her thoughts. Even the emotions that’d had felt so raw and damaged just moments earlier spiraled down until they simply faded away.

Her body relaxed, and the pleasure of the kiss went through her like sips of fine, warmed whiskey.

Dylan didn’t hurry things. He took his time. Kissing her. Savoring her. Building the fire inside her by small degrees until it wasn’t enough. That was the problem with good, thorough kisses—ultimately they only made her want more.

Collena stepped closer to him. Pressing her body to his. She put her arms around him, to draw him closer, so that she could feel the solid muscles of his chest. That satisfied her for several moments, but then Dylan took his kisses to her neck.

He didn’t stop there.

Dylan eased off his shoulder holster and dropped it onto the table. Then, he slid his hand down the side of her body, all the way from her neck to her right breast. To her waist and to her hip. That’s when Collena knew it was time to do something about touching him.

She went after the buttons on his shirt.

“The scrapes on your hands,” he reminded her. “I don’t want you to be in pain.”

“Oh, I’m not in pain.” Though the scrapes and bruises were probably hurting, Collena couldn’t feel them. Need and passion were apparently great at numbing the body to anything unpleasant. And right now, the only thing she could feel was the ache of pleasure.

Collena opened his shirt. Found a solid man beneath. He was everything she thought he would be. Toned, naturally tanned pecs and abs. You couldn’t get that kind of body in a gym. This came from years of physical labor on the ranch.

A cowboy’s body.

Her cowboy,
she said to herself. And she smiled at the thought of Dylan being hers, if only for tonight.

His shirt came off. He reciprocated by unzipping her dress and easing it off her shoulders. It fell to the floor.

He skimmed his gaze down her body, and the look in his eyes let her know that he appreciated what he saw. Collena did the same to him.

And she unzipped his jeans.

She kissed him on the chest that she’d been fantasizing about, and while she was kissing, she decided to sample his stomach, as well. She felt his muscles stir beneath her tongue and lips. She also felt his erection and knew that while the foreplay was incredible, that’s what she wanted from him.

Her stomach kisses obviously had an effect on Dylan. The intended effect. He made a husky sound of pleasure and sank down to her eye level. He went to his knees, gripped her waist and eased her down on the floor beside him.

The thick carpet was soft beneath her. That was the only thing her mind had time to register before he kissed her and everything went a little crazy. No more slow, soothing pace. Not this. His French kiss nearly caused her climax.

But the heat was just beginning.

With one hand, he unclasped her bra, and with the other, he removed her panties. It was an incredible sensation. Her bare breasts and sex on him.

But his jeans and boots had to go.

“Condom,” he mumbled, when she tugged off his boots and pushed the jeans down his hips.

Collena groaned.

Until he produced the wrapped condom from his pocket.

Dylan had obviously come prepared, and she rewarded his preparation with the best kiss she could manage. And she rewarded herself by running her hand into his boxers.

He was hot and hard. So ready. And she was ready, too. She stripped his jeans off him and arched her back so that their midsections would meet, his erection against the wet folds of her body.

Oh, mercy.

This had to happen now.

He put on the condom and entered her slowly. It was torture. She wanted all of him, and she wanted it now. Yet, Dylan held back. And he stayed gentle.

She had the feeling that he was treating her like fine crystal because of her injuries. And it was costing him big-time. She could see the battle going on beneath those clever touches and easy strokes inside her.

He wanted to take her hard and fast.

Which was exactly what Collena wanted.

So, she lifted her hips and wrapped her legs around his lower back. He made eye contact with her. His eyebrows lifted, questioning her about how far could he go.

“As far as you want,” she offered.

He understood her, and Collena nearly laughed that they were on the same wavelength, even when it came to the specifics of sex.

The next stroke inside her wasn’t exactly gentle.

But it was thorough. And extremely pleasurable.

Because she was watching his face, she saw the change in him. The savage was free, and she could feel the difference in the way he moved. The way he looked at her. The way he smelled. It was something primal. Something wild and untamed.

Something she wanted.

He plunged his left hand into her hair so that he controlled the movement of her head. He hooked his right arm beneath her thigh, lifting her so that she could take him deeper inside her. And he made sure that it was deep with each long, hard thrust inside her.

Her body reacted. Wanting more. Wanting it
now.

Collena dug her fingers into his back, trying to force him to get closer to her, but the truth was, they couldn’t get any closer.

The sweat of Dylan’s body was slick now. It added to the friction already there. Wet body and against wet body. Man against woman.

His grip tightened on both her hair and thigh. He moved faster. Harder. Deeper. Until the intensity and the pleasure was overwhelming.

Collena wanted to hang on to every second of the ecstasy. She wanted it to last. And the same moment, she thought she would die if he didn’t give her that final release.

Dylan didn’t disappoint her.

When he could take and give no more, he thrust into her one last time. Collena felt her body surrender. Dylan lowered his head, kissed her and surrendered right along with her.