Rugged (11 page)

Warmth surged inside Rachel as she watched him. She saw Jed as a teenager, his dreams torn apart, responsibility for the ranch thrust upon him. She saw him growing lonely and bitter with life, wanting more.

Needing more.

Deserving more.

She rose, circled the desk and came to a halt by his chair. “I lied when I said I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m not sorry at all. I hate the sound of that woman and what she could have done to you. In fact, if I’m honest, I dislike the idea of any other woman with you.”

Jed jerked to his feet. The mask of reserve broke, revealing the hunger and longing beneath. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “Will you stay with me tonight?” he asked, his voice muffled into her hair. “Will you teach me how to be a good lover, like you offered to teach me how to dance the waltz?”

“Yes, Jed,” she replied. “I’ll stay with you.”

With a groan of triumph and relief, he bent his head and lowered his mouth to hers. Gentle at first, he tasted her. His lips roamed over hers, surprisingly soft for a man who appeared so hard and unyielding. Then he deepened the kiss, letting his need show. Rachel molded against him, offering him access. Hesitantly, he swept his tongue inside her mouth. She responded with a low moan.

His arms tightened around her, crushing her to his chest. As he pushed her back a step, and then another, she came flush with the edge of the desk. A stack of papers scattered to the ground. Rachel didn’t care. She didn’t care about anything but the heat that was building up inside her, and the thud of Jed’s heart that she could feel where their bodies pressed together.

Then, as he arched her spine over the desk and started to lower her down to the solid surface, a sharp rumble from his stomach mingled with their panting breaths. He froze. The pressure of his mouth on hers eased.

“Sorry,” he whispered, his lips grazing hers. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”

A chuckle slipped from her throat. “As much as I like what you’re doing, I don’t want to be your dinner.” Gently, she pushed with the flat of her palms against his broad chest. “I’ll fix you something to eat.”

He pulled away. The dark flush that covered his cheeks made the pale scars stand out more than usual. The collar of his shirt rose and fell with the force of his heaving lungs. “I’ll need a shower,” he said in a husky voice. His midnight eyes roamed her face. In their expression she could read the words he’d left unsaid.

I want to shower before I take you to bed.

Chapter Six

Rachel suspected she might have seasoned the omelet with sugar instead of salt but it hardly mattered. She doubted Jed would have noticed. His hands didn’t seem quite steady, and instead of looking at his plate while he ate, his gaze slid over her in a searing look that felt like a flame on her skin.

“Jedediah.” She lingered over the word. “I saw your full name on the paperwork,” she explained when his brows inched up. “I’ve never heard the name before.”

“It’s from Victorian times. I was named after my great-grandfather. He’s the one who established the ranch.”

“Je-de-di-ah.” Her voice was low. “I like it.”

“I like hearing you say it.” He lifted the heavy stoneware mug and took a sip of coffee, studying her over the rim. “You’ve hardly eaten anything.” He nodded toward her untouched meal.

“I seem to have lost my appetite.”

Jed lowered his mug and rose. Rachel watched him circle the table. All her thoughts scattered. Her eyes skimmed over him, from the thick coal-black hair, damp at the tips, to the freshly shaven jaw, and the fierce dark eyes that trapped her to that single spot, leaving her powerless to think or move or speak.

“Have you changed your mind?” he asked.

“No.” She struggled to speak, even whisper, merely forming the word on her lips. The flicker of relief in his eyes told her he’d understood.

“Good,” Jed said. “Because it would have destroyed me if you had.” He offered his hand to her, palm up, in a gesture of invitation.

Rachel got to her feet. She slipped her hand into Jed’s. His fingers curled around hers, strong and warm. The feel of his calloused skin against the softness of hers reminded her of the different worlds they belonged in.

It can work between us
, she told herself as she followed him upstairs.
It can work, if both of us want it enough and are willing to make sacrifices
.

His bedroom had no rug on the floor, no curtains hanging from the windows. Her eyes flickered from the solid oak bed to the blackness of the forest outside.

“There’s no one there to watch us,” Jed assured her as he pulled her into his arms. “Only the sky and the moon and the stars and wild animals, and for them mating is as natural as breathing or eating.”

She pulled free from his embrace.

A shadow crossed his face. Rachel tried to show with her actions that she was beyond kissing, beyond waiting. Her hands went to the front of his shirt and started to release the buttons from their tiny holes. As soon as she had the top three open, she slipped her palm inside and stroked the ridged muscles, feeling with her fingertips the gentle abrasion of the hairs that covered his chest.

The thought of rubbing her breasts against him made her shiver.

“My turn,” Jed murmured. He caught her wrists, brought her hands down to her sides, and tugged at the hem of her sweater until he could pull the garment over her head, together with the thermal undershirt she wore beneath.

Her hair fell in a tangle around her naked shoulders. She stood still, letting him look, enjoying the feminine power that his hungry gaze sent soaring inside her.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Jed said. Taking a step back, he paused to admire her. Then he bent down to scoop her up and lowered her on top of the patchwork quilt on the bed.

She helped him with the zipper on the front of her jeans and wriggled her hips to slide the denim down her legs, catching the waist of her panties to keep them on, preferring to take small steps, so she could enjoy every one of them.

“Silk and lace.” He ran one fingertip along the edge of her bra. “I’ll always want to see you in silk and lace, not practical cotton.” His gaze flicked up to hers. “Will you promise me that? That when you go away, you’ll wear silk, so I can imagine what you look like every night when you get ready for bed?”

She gave him the promise in a wordless nod and shifted on the bed, rising to her knees, so she could finish taking off his shirt. Jed pushed her back down.

“Let me watch you while I undress,” he said.

His eyes raked over her as he hastily got out of his clothes.

Rachel moved aside to make room for him.

“Are you warm enough?” he asked.

“Yes.” She reached to run her hand over the powerful contours of his shoulders, wanting to ease his path, not let him flounder with his inexperience, but again, he caught her wrist and with a whispered hush told her to lie still.

Curious, she sank back to the covers and waited. Jed braced one arm by her side and bent over her. The fingertips of his free hand traced her throat, dipped lower, between her collarbones. Her breasts tightened. Tension made her spine arch. When he flicked his thumb over one puckered nipple, a moan left her lips.

“Hush,” Jed said. “Let me learn what you like.”

He cupped her breast, felt the heavy shape of it, then rolled the peak between his thumb and forefinger, increasing the pressure until she rocked side to side, whimpering with pleasure.

“Do you like it?” he murmured.

“Yes,” she replied.

His touch grew light again, drifted past her belly, down her legs, skimmed up along the inside of her thigh. Instinctively, her legs parted. Slowly, so slowly. She sucked in an impatient breath. He caressed her, teasing, not quite completing the journey. In the end, she jerked her hips to find the intimate contact she craved.

“Like this?” he whispered.

The roughened tip of his forefinger dipped into her, traced the outer folds before returning to the entrance. Her breath came in shuddering gasps. She could manage no reply except a shaky nod and a husky moan.

“Here?” His hand shifted, found her most sensitive part and rubbed, around and across the tip. He coaxed her into a riot of physical sensations as he patiently pushed her toward completion, shifting from one place to another, wringing a primitive response from her, forcing her to embrace her own desires in a way she’d never dared before.

The tension inside her soared, peaked, and finally broke.

Waves of pleasure crashed over her. She writhed on the bed, her body no longer hers, but claimed by the man who controlled her, chasing her higher still, not allowing her any respite until every last shuddering contraction had stilled, leaving her exhausted and limp.

As the world around her returned to focus, alarm bells went off in her head.

It hadn’t been the fumbling touch of an inexperienced lover.

Rachel bolted to sit up on the bed, her eyes accusing.

Jed’s brow furrowed. He leaned back, giving her space.

She surveyed his lean body, roped with muscle, took in the dark blue eyes, the thick black hair. The stern features with high cheekbones and square jaw and the scars that only served to add to his masculine appeal.

Why had she been so naive? A man like that would have women swarming around him. He’d admitted it himself, had complained about the fashion models who wouldn’t leave him alone. For whatever reason, he’d seen it fit to gain her sympathy with lies before he seduced her with consummate skill.

“What’s your game?” she asked roughly.

“Game?” His throat moved as he swallowed. “What do you mean, game?”

Rolling off the bed on the opposite side, Rachel seized the towel thrown on the back of a chair. Her hands shook as she covered her nakedness with the damp terrycloth. “There was no need to spin me a story about your lonely life,” she told him. “I wanted you, more than I’ve ever wanted any man, but you’ve ruined it by lying.”

Jed shook his head, looking baffled. “Lying?”

Rachel circled the bed and crouched to pick up her clothes. “You’re not an inexperienced man. Hell,” she said, letting her anger rise, “you’re no more a virgin than Mozart was a man who just dabbled a little in music.” She straightened, clutching the clothes to her chest. She shot another look at him and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her. On the landing, she paused to pull on her clothes in the glow of the firelight from the stone hearth in the living room downstairs.

“Rachel!” The roar preceded Jed by a fraction of a second. He appeared in the doorway, naked, fully aroused, his chest rising and falling as he fought to control his agitation. “Damn it, Rachel, I didn’t lie to you,” he said in a low growl. “I’ve never done that to a woman before.”

She stared at him. A mix of emotions chased each other on his face. One by one, the others vanished, leaving only the fierce glow of a masculine pride.

“You really think I believe you?” Rachel yanked up the zipper on her jeans. “I should have known better. I was brought up not to trust men and I don’t know why I chose to forget those lessons with you.”

She set off stomping down the stairs, but came to a sudden halt when a large hand curled around her upper arm, yanking her back.

“I read those books, Rachel.”

She turned to look at him over her shoulder. “What do you mean?”

“Those romances on the shelves in the den. I’ve read every one of them, cover to cover, some pages over and over again.” Color flooded the high crest of his cheekbones. “I thought they would give me an idea of what to do with a woman, so I wouldn’t come across as a total novice if I ever got the opportunity.”

“You read a bunch of steamy romantic novels…like a guidebook?”

He nodded. “I thought that as they’re written by women for women, they probably have men doing things the way women like them to be done.”

“I don’t believe you. You can’t learn to…not like you did…from a book.”