Wild Lilly (8 page)

His dark eyes gleamed and his smile turned more genuine. “Why, I think I might have the solution to your financial woes.” He went to lean on the desk again, then stopped and gave it a glare.

Here’s the real reason he’d come here
. “And what solution would that be?”

He meandered over to the window and picked at the crumbling putty around the sill. “If you sell me your land, I’ll donate some new desks to the school.”

She schooled her features to show no emotion, though she felt like she stood on quicksand. She needed more time to figure out what she wanted to do, and Lee Krisp was one of the last people on earth she would willingly sell to. “What price are you offering?”

“I’ll give you three dollars per acre.” His chest inflated with pride, as if he were offering her a wonderful deal.

Shouts sounded from the children playing outside. “That is far below what the asking price is for land around here, Mr. Krisp.” His offer was downright insulting. According to the local paper, an acre of land was selling for at least nine dollars.

His lips twisted beneath his mustache in surprise, then anger, then back to the false smile. “Why, I believe my offer is quite generous. No one is going to want your land for a better price. It borders the Comanche reservation.”

That, she didn’t know, and she was distracted for a moment by visions of meeting the savage and exciting Comanche Indians.

He mistook her silence for fear. “If you sell me that land, I’ll make sure they never bother you.” He set his cane against the wall and hooked his thumbs in his gun belt.

“I think I’ll wait a bit and see what other offers are out there.”

The sound of wood snapping broke the heavy silence of the classroom. He had ripped a piece of the trim around the window off in his fury. “Shame about your window. Termites must’a gotten to it.”

She gaped at him as pulled another piece of trim off the window. “Dang, looks like this one is rotten, too.” He tore the wood off, exposing the edges of the window frame and a crack of the outside beyond.

“Please stop doing that!” She took a step toward him and he bared his yellow teeth at her and slammed his hand on the wall. Fear sped her heart as she took two steps back and her bustle bumped into the chalkboard. Those were not the eyes of a sane man.

“Yep, all kinds of termites in these walls. Be a shame if you came to school someday and the place had fallen down.” His stare left no doubt about the validity of his threat.

A deep voice echoed in the classroom from the door. “It would be a shame, ’cause Sheriff Manchan would come looking for the termite that did all that damage.”

Relief made her breath come out in a gasp. Paul stood in the doorway, a piece of paper clutched in one hand. His other hand lingered over the gun on his belt. Mr. Krisp spun with his hand hovering over his gun as well. The two men sized each other up. She couldn’t see Krisp’s face, but Paul’s looked like it was carved from granite, and his eyes were as cold as ice.

She had to diffuse the situation. Children were playing outside and a bullet could easily rip through the thin walls of the schoolhouse. “Mr. McGregor, what brings you here today?”

Paul’s hand remained over the butt of his gun, and he didn’t remove his eyes from Krisp. “Owen forgot his homework.”

“Oh, well here, let me have it.” She blithely moved in between the men and snatched the paper from Paul’s hands, blocking him from Krisp with her body. Holding the paper up, she pretended to scan it. As scared as she was, it could have been Chinese for all she could comprehend. “I owe young Mr. McGregor an apology.”

That did make Paul jerk his eyes away from Krisp and glance at her in confusion. “For what?”

“Well, I accused him of fibbing about doing his homework. Come, let’s go outside with the children so I can find him and apologize in front of everyone. Since I accused him in front of the other children, it’s only fair.” She turned to the other man. “Mr. Krisp, I trust we can continue this conversation later?”

The last part came out with a little tremble in her speech. Pure hatred radiated from his gaze toward Paul. The idea that he might shoot through her to get to Paul didn’t seem far off.

Mr. Krisp’s lips turned into an arrogant smile beneath his mustache. “I’m surprised to see you here, Paul. I thought that pretty little soiled dove down at the Gilded Rose kept you busy.”

Her heart twinged as she turned back to Paul. His lips narrowed into a thin line and he spit out, “Watch your mouth, Krisp.”

Blinking his eyes in a parody of surprise, Mr. Krisp continued, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spill the beans in front of Miss Brooks.”

Instead of waiting for his answer, she grabbed Paul’s arm. “Let’s go find your brother, Mr. McGregor.”

Her smooth exit was ruined by the fact that she had to dig in her heels and pull Paul away from the other man. It was like trying to keep back two dogs that were determined to fight each other.

Once in the bright sunshine, she continued to jerk Paul toward where the boys were playing marbles. He kept glaring back at the schoolhouse, and a low growl escaped his lips as Krisp came out and gave him a nasty stare before he left. Spinning on her heel, she stared at him with a small ball of anger tightening in her stomach.

“What was he talking about?”

Paul’s jaw tensed as he watched Mr. Krisp ride away. “Just try’n to make trouble.”

Narrowing her eyes, she stepped into his line of vision. “So you don’t spend your time with a dance-hall girl when you’re not with me.”

“Miss Brooks, I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but it takes a more hours than I have in a day to keep my ranch running.” He turned the full force of his gaze her. “Besides, I can honestly say that you’re the only woman I seem to think about anymore.” He stepped a pace closer, the edge of her skirt brushing his jeans. “Even when I sleep, my dreams are filled with visions of golden hair and freckles.”

A blush burned her face and she stammered out, “Oh, I—”

Owen ran up to them and threw his arms around Paul’s waist. “Paul! What are you doing here?” The other children continued to play marbles in the circle drawn in the dirt and stole glances at them.

Lilly spoke up and showed the paper to Owen, glad for the distraction. “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Mr. McGregor said you left your work at home.”

Owen scuffed his boot in the dirt while Paul rumpled his hair. “Owen does his homework after dinner every night. I’m very proud of him.”

One of the boys sniggered and Owen ducked out from under Paul’s hand. “Thanks, Paul. Bet you gotta bet back to the ranch now. See you later!”

Lilly bit her tongue to keep from laughing at Paul’s taken-aback expression. Obviously, he wasn’t used to his brother showing any independence. She took his arm again, loving the feel of his firm bicep under her hand, and walked him toward his wagon. This close, she could smell the sandalwood soap he used.

“Have you eaten yet?” he asked abruptly.

“No. Mr. Krisp interrupted my lunch.” The thought of Lee made her shoulders go tight. “Thank you for stepping in. I’m sure he wouldn’t have done anything to harm me, but I don’t think the schoolhouse would’ve stood a chance.”

Paul growled again and she felt a hot lick of desire at the noise. “He will never hurt you. I’ll kill him before he touches one hair on your head.”

The look in his eye was frightening, but the primal part of her mind loved his protective reaction. “Don’t worry. He wants my land too much to try anything.” She patted his solid forearm and turned to face him as they reached his wagon.

He stopped and scuffed at the dirt with his boot in a move that reminded her of Owen doing the same thing moments before. Keeping his eyes on the school bell he told her, “I brought some food with me—if you wanted to eat.”

A quick glance at the watch pinned to her blouse made her heart beat faster with anticipation. “We have thirty minutes. That should be enough for a fast bite.” She tried to keep her voice casual, but inside she was nervous at the thought of spending more time alone with Paul. The man did dangerous things to her sense of modesty.

They brought his wicker basket into the classroom. She pulled over the extra chair, one that was currently used to keep a board from popping up, and set it at her desk. Some good had come from the damage Mr. Krisp had done to the window. A nice breeze now blew in and cooled the air.

“This place really is run down,” Paul muttered and inspected the chair before he gingerly lowered himself into it. He took a small bowl of strawberries out of the basket along with some cheese and dark bread.

Her back stiffened as she sat next to him. She was tired of people picking on her school. It took a lot of hard work to clean it up as much as she did, and she didn’t have the carpentry skills to do major repairs. If she was back home she could have asked her family, but she had no one to count on out here. The thought made her melancholy and her voice had a chill to it when she spoke. “We do our best with what we have.”

He didn’t reply, just gazed at her lips in a most distracting manner. The sound of the children playing outside faded until her entire world focused on Paul.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he confessed in a low voice and leaned in closer until she could smell his unique scent of leather and clean skin. Her heart skipped a beat when his warm hand smoothed over her knee beneath the desk. “I keep remembering the taste of that sweet mouth of yours.”

Totally unnerved, she popped a strawberry between her lips. Thank you seemed an inadequate response, but when she looked in his eyes, her mind was reduced to single words. The sweet and tart taste burst over her tongue and she grabbed another one.

She became aware of Paul staring at her as she chewed the strawberry and swallowed it with an almost audible gulp. Before she could draw a breath, his lips were on hers, stroking and opening her mouth to share the sweetness of the berry.

Good God, could this man kiss. Long and slow sweeps of his tongue made her tighten her thighs. His hand on her knee moved up a bit until she froze. Backing off, he turned the kiss gentle, slow and delicious enough to make her moan. Their lips moved against each other, and she enjoyed the rub of his stubble against her cheeks.

He released her lips and shifted, rearranging his erection in his jeans. She watched with wide eyes, then blushed and ducked her head when he gave her a devilish grin.

“Have you ever touched a man before?”

She tilted her nose and tried for a frosty look. “I believe I was just touching you.”

Low and deep, his chuckle made her nipples harden. Watching her, he lazily ran his hand over his erection, pausing to grip it and reveal the round shape of the head of his cock through the jeans. She wanted those hands moving over her body and wished with all her heart that she hadn’t stopped him earlier.

“Give me your hand.”

She held her hand out expecting a kiss, and he gently lowered it toward his groin, giving her plenty of time to pull back. Instead of retreating, she trembled as she touched his erection through the thin material. His wide shaft was a firm heat in her grip, and his breath came out in a hiss as she ran her hand over it and squeezed. The sound of his excitement brought a smile to her lips and made her pussy wet with cream.

Experimenting, she traced her fingertips over the head of his cock, scraping her nails lightly against the fabric. He leaned back to give her better access, and watched her through half-hooded eyes. There was something powerful about being trusted with his body like this. He left her free to explore as she wished and she leaned forward, capturing his lips as she stroked him.

“Lilly,” he breathed against her mouth, the scent of strawberries filling her nose. Their tongues darted apart and he reached down, placing his hand over hers and showing her how he liked to be stroked. The combination of his rough skin above her hand and his hard cock below made her groan against his mouth. His hips began to move in time to their strokes, and she delighted in his hungry kisses.

The sound of the bell ringing made them jerk apart and she fell out of her chair.

He gaped at her as she tried to pull her skirt off her head, and started laughing. With wounded dignity, she untangled herself and gave him a sharp glare that any wise man would have heeded.

Instead of being intimidated, Paul popped a strawberry in her mouth. The sounds of shoes clomping up the wooden steps brought her to her feet in a rush and she smoothed her dress back in place with a nervous gesture. With a wicked grin, Paul held the picnic basket strategically over his groin.

“Well, Miss Brooks, I hope you found our lunch...educational.”

She almost choked and rubbed her lips, sensitized by the scrape of his stubble. “Indeed. Thank you for the instruction, Mr. McGregor. But I must teach class now.”

He tipped his hat and ambled out of the classroom. Owen watched him with narrowed eyes, and the older girls stared after Paul with a dreamy expression that probably matched her own. Patting her hair, she turned to the chalkboard to hide her wide smile.

Chapter Six

Your Permission

It was an overcast Saturday morning, and the line of shops in the center of Caldwell bustled with activity. Covered wagons and carriages competed for room, and ladies and their gentleman strolled the sidewalks at a leisurely pace. Adjusting the soft peach silk shawl over her shoulders, Lilly raised a hand in greeting to one of her students riding by in a covered wagon.