Her Bodyguard (22 page)

The mattress sagged beneath his weight as he settled beside her. “Lookin’ mighty pleased with yourself, there, sugar.”

“I made you twitch.”

He let out a strangled laugh. “Honey, you’ve been making me twitch for months, since the first time I laid eyes on you.”

“Really?”

“You looked at me all sassy and proud, challenging me to resist your—” he grabbed hold of the nightgown pillowed at her hips and with one great yank, tugged it loose “—kisses.”

His lips returned to hers and his tongue plunged inside her, taking and tasting and savoring. Then he drew back. “Temptations,” he breathed, his smoldering gaze slowly scorching a trail across her naked skin, her breasts, her navel, her womanhood.

Mari shuddered with need.

Then he reached out and touched her, his practiced hands skimming lightly over her sensitive skin, stroking and teasing and exploring. Luke stared deeply into her eyes, into her soul, and whispered, “Sinfuls.”

Mari gasped as he slipped a finger inside her, stretching her, sending her mindlessly into a storm of sensation.

His fingers conjured a magic from deep within her. The air seemed too thick to breathe. She writhed beneath his touch, her hands gripping the bedsheet. His hands, his mouth were everywhere, pushing her forward, driving her up, until she felt as if she teetered on a high, narrow ledge. “Luke,” she groaned, thrashing upon the bed, pleading for relief.

His cheek, bristly with a day’s growth of whiskers, scraped against the sensitive skin of her belly as he kissed his way toward the juncture of her thighs. His hands gripped her hips, stimulating, steadying. Anticipation sharpened to anxiety as his goal became clear, and she attempted to pull away. “No.”

Luke lifted his head, his eyes hot with passion. “Don’t be afraid, Mari.”

“It’s too…too—” she all but sobbed the last word “—much.”

“Shush, Mari-mine,” he soothed. “All right. I’ll wait. We’ll save it for next time.” He braced himself above her, kissed her lips, stroked her hair, her cheek, her breasts until she lost herself in the maelstrom once again.

His hand skimmed down her stomach, leaving shudders of pleasure in its wake before delving into the folds of her womanhood with slow, gentle strokes. “So hot. So wet. So beautiful.”

She tried to think, tried to find words to describe the sensations swirling inside her. Physical and emotional reactions gave rise to feelings Mari had never experienced before, feelings she’d never known were even possible. “Luke, I…”

Then two of his fingers rubbed a slow, sensual circle around the bead of nerves at the apex of her sex. Ribbons of pleasure fluttered outward from the spot, and instinctively, Mari rose against his hand. “Luke!”

“That’s my girl,” he urged, his voice a low, coaxing rumble. “Go up. I want to watch you go over.”

Mari’s tension spiraled higher as he worked his magic between her legs. She was back on that ledge again, swaying once more on the edge. She fought for breath, tried to find her balance. It was too much.
He
was too much.

“Don’t fight it. Let it happen.”

As if sensing her need, he slipped one, then unbearably a second, finger into her slick wet sheath and pressed the pad of his thumb against her core. She climbed higher, tighter, tenser. Reaching toward…

“Go,” Luke said against her lips. “Let go, Mari.”

He kissed her as she climaxed, as she tumbled off the ledge into a free fall of sensation. She grabbed his shoulders, holding on for dear life, flying through a world of bold and brilliant pleasure.

Then, before her feet touched the ground, he rose above her. Need tightened his expression into sharp angles and hard planes. His breathing was harsh, his voice raspy with desire as his hands skimmed her thighs, lifting her, spreading her open. “Again, Maribeth.” His hot, hard length probed at her entrance. “This time, with me.”

With one hard thrust, he took her. The pain was brief and minimal, all but overlooked by Mari in the wonder of the moment. He filled her. Completed her. It was…amazing.

Luke looked down at her, his expression achingly tender. Slowly, he smiled. Gently, he kissed her. Sweetly, he murmured her name.
Mari-mine
.

Then he started to move. He drew out, then thrust in, his strokes painstakingly slow and sweet. His mouth brushed hers in sweet challenge, provoking her to respond. Taking his face in her hands, Mari kissed him fully, exploring his mouth with utter abandon. She wanted more than sweet. She wanted raw. She wanted
him
.

Lifting her hips, she met his next languid thrust and caught his surprised moan. Riding the surge of feminine power once again, she daringly slid one foot up the back of his thigh.

Luke’s mouth crushed down on hers as his pace quickened. His hands supported his weight above her as his hips pumped harder, taking her in primitive impatient drives that made Mari whimper against his plundering mouth.

She scaled the wondrous height once more. Flesh slapped against flesh as instinct took control. The earthy sounds of their lovemaking blended with the rhythm of the rain. Wrapping her arms and legs around him, Mari climbed the last few steps to bliss. Their skin grew slick, their bodies melted into one. They rolled on the bed, thrashed across the sheets. Her nails pressed into his bare back and he shuddered, driving harder. He nipped her neck and angled his hips to spread her further. It wasn’t gentle anymore, but hard and greedy and ruthless. Primal. Male and female.

“Look at me,” he demanded.

Her eyes fluttered open, focused. His skin was flushed, his jaw hard. His eyes hot, burning, branding her as his. Her outlaw. Her bodyguard. Her lover. She whispered his name. “Luke.”

Without taking his eyes from hers, Luke reached down and stroked her where their bodies were joined.

The second climax hit Mari without warning and she cried out. Luke grasped her hips and plunged once, twice, three more times, then he stiffened, groaned, and Mari welcomed the hot wet gush of his seed.

Her outlaw. Her bodyguard.

Her first true love.

LUKE HAD always been good at morning-afters. He knew just the right note to strike to charm his women, soothe any insecurities, and make them feel special while avoiding any noose they might be dragging.

With Mari, his tongue knotted up like a bowline. He didn’t know what to say or how to say it, or why his heart continued to pound like a smithy’s hammer even after he summoned the strength to scoot out of bed and climb into his britches. He couldn’t believe he had trouble meeting her eyes or shaping his mouth into a smile that wouldn’t come across as fake. Lovemaking with Mari had left Luke as confused as a woodpecker in a petrified forest. Mari, on the other hand, didn’t appear to be suffering in any way at all.

For a recently deflowered virgin, the woman was way too perky. She sat up, clutched the sheet to her naked breasts and chattered on about women and men and her preconceived notions about sex. She confessed to allowing minor liberties with a few of her previous beaux. When she got to the part where she praised Luke’s talents, he tuned in a little closer.

“…from the time I learned who you were,” Mari was saying. “I guess there is something about wickedness in a man that appeals to a woman. At least, for purposes of a dalliance.”

Dalliance? Is that what this was?
Luke considered it, then decided he didn’t like the term. And what was this business about wickedness? Luke didn’t much like that, either. “Hold on just one minute. Are you trying to say that I’m wicked, Maribeth?”

She gave him a look both patient and pitying. “You’re an outlaw, Luke. By definition, outlaws are wicked.”

“Outlaw! Excuse me, but I thought we settled this. You know I’m a Texas Ranger.”

Her expression turned indulgent. “Whatever you say, Luke.”

Luke’s jaw gaped, then hardened. “You
still
don’t believe me?” When she smiled and shrugged, his world went red. “I poured my guts out to you, gave you all the gory details about my relations, and you don’t believe a word I said?”

“Look,” she said in a placating tone, “let’s not bother with all that right now.”

“No.” He braced his hands on his hips. “I say let’s do.”

“But there’s really no need. What does it matter what I believe?”

“I don’t know. It just does.”

Mari sighed, then propped her pillow against the iron headboard and leaned back against it. “Look. Maybe I’m not sure what I believe. I haven’t exactly had time to think it all through. Besides, you gave me a lot of information, Luke, but certainly not the whole story.”

“I told you what’s important.”

“And I’m supposed to just take you at your word?”

“Yes!”

Annoyance flashed in her eyes. “So you think that just because you kissed me senseless, I’m now stupid? For instance, I’m not supposed to notice that you never explained how you went from being a pickpocket to a member of the most respected law enforcement agency in Texas. That’s an awful big stretch for anyone with a brain to make without some sort of explanation.”

He wanted to bare his teeth and snarl at her. He truly did. “So, you think I’ve lied about everything, but you gave me your virginity anyway?”

Mari bristled with indignation. “No, I don’t believe that’s what I said.”

“Well, that’s the way it sounds to me, and it’s damned insulting, Maribeth McBride. I can’t believe it. I’m good enough to bed if I rob trains, but if I’m the guy trying to catch the train robbers, I’m a boring milquetoast.”

“I did
not
say that!”

Luke knew that. He understood he wasn’t thinking or acting quite rationally at the moment, but it seemed better to escape into illogic than to ponder why he felt so completely out of rhythm. “You were a virgin!”

“Yes.”

“You gave that treasure to me thinking I was the kind of man who’d take it. A man like Murphy.”

“That’s not true. You’re nothing like Murphy. That’s something I’m certain of. You’re a good man, Luke.”

He scoffed. “For an outlaw, you mean?”

Mari rolled her eyes and sighed. “Fine, then. Finish the story. Tell me how you came to be a Texas Ranger.”

Oh. Hell. He was right back to where he’d started when he decided to quit talkin’ and begin kissin’. Why did he do this to himself?

At least she hadn’t brought up family skeletons again. He’d rather talk about Harvey than confess any more of his brother’s sins, and Luke hated talking about Harvey. He hated remembering that he was in large part responsible for the death of such a fine, brave man. “You gonna believe what I have to say?”

Mari tilted her head and studied him, just long enough to rile his temper before saying, “Probably.”

And damned if she didn’t let out a little giggle. Then, scooping her nightgown from the bottom of the bed, Mari slipped it on and settled back against her pillow. “Finish your story, Luke. Tell me how you came to be a Texas Ranger.”

He tore his attention away from the way the soft cotton caressed her breast. Why hadn’t he kept his mouth shut and his butt in bed? He blew out a harsh breath.

“I told you Murphy married my sister. Well, wasn’t long before he got tired of Brian Callahan’s small-potatoes thieving, and he took to robbing stages. Eventually, he talked Brian into going with him. They dragged me along a time or two.”

Luke paused, his thoughts drifting back. He remembered Janna, so happy with her babies, so distressed over her men. “That sort of thieving wasn’t for me. Brian, either, to be honest, but Murphy was calling the shots by then, and I was powerless to change it. So I left.”

“How old were you?” Mari asked.

“Sixteen. Thought I was a man, but I was dumb as a snubbing post.” His mouth slipped into a rueful smile. “Proved that the day I tried to steal a knife from a Texas Ranger.”

“Ah, the connection.”

“Harvey Rowan. The best man who ever walked the face of this earth.” Luke moved to the window, where he pushed aside the curtain and stared out at the muddy street. “I supported myself by supplying Brian Callahan’s New York collector with Texas artifacts. Harvey Rowan’s pa was a close friend of Sam Houston’s, and Harvey had a knife Houston had carried at the Battle of San Jacinto. He treasured the knife, didn’t take kindly to my trying to lift it. He was hauling me into town to jail when we stumbled on a stage holdup in progress. I helped him, and I got shot in the process.” Glancing over his shoulder, he added, “I thought I was dying, so I spilled my guts about my family. A deathbed confession of sorts.”

Mari glanced at the scar high on his chest. “So Mr. Rowan saved your life?”

“First by digging the bullet out, then by taking a chance on me. He gave me a way to redeem myself. I stopped taking artifacts for Kimball and began giving information to the Texas Rangers.”

“You were a spy?”

“That has a nicer ring than informant, but yeah. Thanks to my brother-in-law, I had an established identity as an outlaw, so we used it. About that time, I stumbled into a card game with some investors from back East and ended up with part of a railroad in my pocket. Having money made the whole job easier. After a couple years, Harvey talked the governor into establishing a special force of Rangers to take on special tasks and they made me official. I’ve been a Texas Ranger for years, though like I said before, only a handful of people know it.”

Turning to face her, he folded his arms. “That, Miss McBride, is God’s honest truth.”

Silence stretched like warm saltwater taffy as he waited for her to respond. He had a rock in his gut about it, and he didn’t really know why. What did it matter if she believed him or not? Why did he care?

The answer waited just beyond reach, flirting with his consciousness, when Mari finally spoke.

“I believe you.” Mari clutched the sheet up all the way to her neck as she quietly repeated. “I believe you.”

Vindication was a sweet treat that turned sour when a blush stained her cheeks, she shut her eyes and dropped her head back against the pillow. “This is awful.”

“Excuse me?”

Her cheeks flushed pink. “You’re not an outlaw at all. You’re
respectable
.”