Lori Foster - ThE BUCKHORN LEGACY

“Are you a virgin?” she taunted, not giving a single inch, and Casey laughed outright at her ploy. She was determined, he’d give her that. But then, so was he.

Flicking a finger over her soft cheek, he said, “That’s none of your business.”

Her incredible brown eyes widened, reflecting the moonlight and a femininity that went bone deep. She shook her head in wonder. “You’re the only guy I know who wouldn’t have denied it right away.”

“I’m not denying or confirming.”

“I know,” she whispered, still sounding amazed, “but most guys’d lie if they had to, rather than let a girl think—”

“What?” Casey cupped her face and despite his resolve, he kissed her. Damn, it was hard fighting both himself and her. “I don’t care what anyone thinks, Emma. You should know that by now. Besides, what I’ve done or with who isn’t the point.”

“No,” she agreed, her tone suddenly so sad it nearly broke his heart. “It’s what I’ve done, isn’t it?”

Thinking about that, about the guys she’d probably been with and the notoriety of her reputation, filled Casey with possessive rage. So many guys had bragged. Too damn many. Ruthlessly, Casey tamped down the urges he refused to acknowledge, and repeated his own thoughts out loud. “I don’t share.”

“Casey,” she said, shyly peeking up at him, her expression tinted with hope, “what if I promised not to—”

“Shh.” He couldn’t bear for Emma to start pleading, to make promises he doubted she could keep and that wouldn’t matter in the long run anyway. He couldn’t let them matter. “Don’t do that, Emma. Don’t make it harder than it already is. Summer break is almost over and I’ll be leaving for school. You know that. I won’t be around, so there’s no point in us even discussing this.”

Big tears welled in her eyes, causing his guts to cramp. One of her hands fisted in his shirt. “I’m leaving too, Casey.” Her breathing was choppy, the words broken.

Emma leaving? That surprised him. As gently as possible, Casey stroked the tears from her cheeks and then, because he couldn’t help himself, he kissed her forehead. “And where do you think to go, Em?” She hadn’t finished high school yet, had no real prospects that he knew of, no opportunities. Her home life was crap, and that bothered him too. He wanted…

No, he couldn’t even think that way.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I just wanted you to know.”

He didn’t like the sound of that, but had no idea what to say. He could see her soft mouth trembling, could smell her hot, sweet scent carried on the evening breeze. Unlike the other girls he knew, Emma didn’t wear fragrances. But then, she didn’t need to.

Her warm palm touched his jaw. “You’re all that matters to me right now, Case. You and the fact that we might not ever see each other again.”

Boldly, she took his hand and pressed it to her breast. Casey shuddered. She was so damn soft.

His resolve weakened, then cracked. With a muttered curse, he pulled her closer and kissed her again, this time giving his hunger free rein. Her mouth opened under his, accepted his tongue, gave him her own. It didn’t matter, he promised himself, filling his hand with her firm breast, finding her puckered nipple and stroking with his thumb.

She gave a startled, hungry purr of relief, her fingers clenching on his shoulders, her hips snuggling closer to his, stroking his erection, driving him insane.

Casey gave in with a growl of frustration and overwhelming need. He was damned if he did, and damned if he didn’t. And sometimes Emma was just too much temptation to resist.

But it wouldn’t change anything. He told her so in a muted whisper, and her only reply was a groan.

Two Months Later

CASEY SAT BACK in his seat and watched them all with an indulgent smile. Family gatherings had become a common event now that everyone had married and started families of their own. He missed having everyone so close, but they visited often, and it was obvious his father and uncles had found the perfect women for them.

The girl beside Casey cleared her throat, uncomfortable in the boisterous crowd of his family. It didn’t matter because he doubted he’d see her again anyway. Donna was beautiful, sexy and anxious to please him—but she wasn’t perfect for him. He knew it was dumb, considering he wasn’t quite nineteen yet, but Casey couldn’t help wondering if he’d ever meet the perfect girl.

An image of big brown eyes, filled with sexual curiosity, sadness, and finally rejection, formed in his mind. With a niggling dread that wouldn’t ease up, Casey wondered if he’d already found the perfect girl—but had sent her away.

Then he heard his aunt talking to Donna, and he pulled himself out of his reverie. No, she wasn’t perfect, but she didn’t keep him awake nights either. And that was good, because no matter what, no matter how he felt now, he would not let his plans get off track. He decided to forget all about women and the future and simply enjoy the night with his family.

It was late when the family get-together ended and Casey finally got home after dropping off his date. He’d just pulled off his shirt when a fist started pounding on the front door. He and his father, Sawyer, met in the hall, both of them frowning. Sawyer was the town doctor and out of necessity, patients sometimes came this late at night, but as a rule they called first—unless there was an emergency. Casey’s stepmother, Honey, pulled on her robe and hustled after them.

When Sawyer got the door open, they found themselves confronted with Emma’s father, Dell Clark. Beyond furious, Dell had a tight grip on his daughter’s upper arm. His gaunt face was flushed, his eyes red, the tendons in his neck standing out.

Casey’s first startled thought was that even though he hadn’t seen her in two months, Emma hadn’t gone after all. She was right here in Buckhorn.

Then he got a good look at her ravaged face, and he erupted in rage.

He’d been wrong. His plans were changed after all.

In a big way.

CHAPTER ONE

ENRAGED AND UNCERTAIN what he planned to do, Casey started forward. Before he reached Dell, Sawyer caught his arm and drew him up short. “Take it easy, Case.”

Emma covered her mouth with a shaking hand, crying while trying not to cry, held tight by her father’s grip even as she attempted to inch away from him. She wouldn’t look at any of them, her narrow shoulders hunched in embarrassment—and possibly pain.

Casey’s heart hurt, and his temper roiled. Emma’s pretty brown eyes, usually so warm and sexy, were downcast, circled by ruined makeup and swollen from her tears. There was a bruise on her cheek, just visible in the glow of the porch light.

Casey felt tight enough to break as a kind of animal outrage that he’d never before experienced struggled to break free. Every night he’d thought about seeing Emma again, and every night he’d talked himself out of it.

Not once had he considered that he’d see her like this.

His vision nearly blurred as he heard Emma sniff and watched her wipe her eyes with a shaking hand.

With unnecessary roughness, her father shoved her forward and she stumbled across the wide porch before righting herself and turning her back to Casey. Without a word, she held on to the railing, staring out at the moonlit yard. Her broken breathing was audible over the night sounds of wind and crickets and rustling leaves.

“Do you know what your damn son did?” Dell demanded.

Casey felt Sawyer look at him but he ignored the unasked questions and instead went to Emma, taking her arm and pulling her close. It didn’t matter why she was here; he wanted to hold her, to tell her it’d be all right.