Sandra Marton - Wild Revenge

Except, this was a woman.

Warm.

Lithe.

Silken.

They were two people in deadly combat—and yet, despite that, despite everything, Jake felt his duplicitous body coming alive.

Her hair smelled of flowers. Lily of the valley. Lilacs. He didn’t know enough about flowers to be able to identify the scent, he only knew that its fragrance was delicate and surprisingly old-fashioned.

Her breath was warm. Wine-scented. Her mouth would taste rich and sweet.

Her breasts were soft. God, she was soft. Sweet and soft. He thought what it would be like to sink into her, sink deep, have her wrap her legs around him.

In a heartbeat, he was aroused and erect and hard as a rock against her.

“Crap,” he growled, and he rolled away, shot to his feet, turned his back, stood with his head bent, his hands on his hips, his breathing rough and rapid.

The names she’d called him didn’t half cover the territory.

If Addison McDowell really did have a gun, she might as well shoot him because he was worthless. A man who’d get turned while a woman fought him in terror…

He took a long breath, expelled it and swung toward her.

She’d risen to her feet. She was holding the flashlight, the beam wavering unsteadily over him, over the ground, over everything. There was no gun.

He wanted to say something, but what? Finally, he cleared his throat.

“Are you—are you okay?”

She didn’t answer.

“Addison. Please. Are you—”

“Are you done?”

He winced. “I swear, I didn’t come here to hurt you.”

She made a little sound. He hoped it was a snort of disbelief but it might have been the sound of her swallowing her tears.

“Addison …”

“Go away,” she said wearily. “Just—just climb into your truck and—”

“I came to apologize. To tell you all the stuff I said back at El Sueño was—was just—”

“I don’t want your apology. I don’t want anything but the sight of you and that truck going away from here.”

Okay. She was pushing? Only a saint wouldn’t push back.

“Pretending you had a gun was pretty stupid.”

“Under the circumstances,” she said, “I think it was pretty smart.”

She was standing straighter. Her voice had taken on strength.

The lady had balls.

“Only if you don’t assume I might have had one, too.”

“Why would I think such a thing?”

Jake shrugged. “Hey, this is Texas.”

And, by God, she laughed. He breathed a little easier.

“You sure I didn’t hurt you?”

“Only my pride. I took a course in tae kwon do years ago, when I first moved to New York. The instructor said I’d be able to fight off a mugger. Now it turns out I can’t fight off a cowboy.”

She was back. He had to admire her. She was one tough, resilient female.

“Nobody’s called me a cowboy in years.”

“Maybe that’s why I couldn’t fight you off.”

He laughed. And he paused, struggling to find the words that had to be said next. No way could she have missed what had happened when he was on top of her.

“Ah, about what happened. When I, ah, when I had you down …”

He paused again. She didn’t say anything. Heat flooded his face.

“I just want you to know that—that what happened wasn’t, uh, it wasn’t deliberate …”

“Did something happen?” she said coldly. “I’m afraid I didn’t notice.”

Wow. He hadn’t expected that. Okay. She figured it was payback time. He could deal with that.

“Well,” he said briskly, “if you’re sure you’re all right—”

“I’m fine.”

“Would you like me to stay with you until you get to the house?”

She gave a snort of laughter.

He felt his face heat again, but not with embarrassment.

“You know,” he said carefully, “I don’t know what it’s like back East but around here, people accept apologies.”

“They accept them back East, too, but not from jerks.”

The muscle in his jaw fluttered. Enough, he thought grimly, and he turned away from her and strode to the truck.

“Captain?”

Jake looked around.

“Next time you decide to pay me a visit, just remember there are half a dozen real guns inside that house.”

“A little advice,” Jake said coldly. “Don’t threaten a man with a gun, real or otherwise, unless you’re prepared to face the consequences.”

“Advice is the last thing I need from the likes of you, Captain Wilde. You’ve got a nasty disposition, a hair-trigger temper and you’re so full of yourself that—”

Jake marched toward her.

“You want to talk about being full of yourself, lady, try explaining that outfit you wore tonight.”

Addison blinked.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Black silk, cut low. Ice-pick heels.” Was he actually saying these things? He sounded like a fool but the words just kept coming. “You might as well have pinned on a sign that said, ‘Hello, Wilde’s Crossing. Ever seen the likes of me before?’ “

Her eyes narrowed. “Are you finished?”

Finished? Finished? No. He was not finished, nowhere near finished.

“You know,” he said, “I behaved like a damned fool back at El Sueño .”

“If you’re waiting for me to disagree—”

“But what you did here was worse.”

“Worse? Defending myself against you was worse?”

“I could have killed you.”

His words were flat and cold. Addison felt the chill of them straight into the marrow of her bones.

“Don’t get me wrong. You were scared. A truck, following you on these dark, deserted roads … I understand that. But once you pulled that trick with your car, put your headlights on me, that flashlight, saw who I was—”

“I saw who you were, all right.” For the first time since he’d taken her down, her voice quavered. “A man who wanted to—to—”

Addison shuddered. The wind was chilly; in her rush to leave El Sueño , she’d left her jacket behind.

“I’m not that kind of man,” Jake said flatly. “Despite this face.”

“Goddammit,” she said with hot fury, “do you think that’s what this is about? You and your face? You, feeling sorry for yourself?

Jake took a quick step forward, muscles taut with anger. “Who in hell do you think you are?”

“I’m a woman who’s not afraid to tell you the truth, unlike that—that bunch of sympathy sisters at your ranch.” Her chin rose; she tossed her hair back from her face. “Grow up, Captain. You were wounded. You have scars. People react to seeing them. So what?”

“You’re out of line,” he said coldly.

“I am very much in line. You have a chip on your shoulder the size of a house.”

“You don’t know a damned thing about me.”

“And you don’t know a damned thing about me, but that didn’t stop you from making a snap judgment. And I am sick and tired of snap judgments. You got that?”

Jake hesitated. Then he nodded.

“You’re right,” he said in a low voice. “You want to know the truth of what happened tonight? I saw you. And I wanted you. I haven’t wanted a woman in what seems like forever but one look at you and all that changed. And then—then, my brothers told me you weren’t looking at me, Jacob Wilde, you were looking at me, the guy they’d recommended to check out your ranch and I, hell, and I—”

“I saw you watching me. And I told myself I was just trying to get your attention so we could talk business but—but—”

“Dammit,” he said, and either she moved or he did.

It didn’t matter.

What counted was that an instant later, she was in his arms.

THERE WAS NO time to try and understand what was happening.