muttered. âHot and wild. Think about it, damn you.â His thumb rubbed her nipple into a tight peak, and her entire body clenched from the pleasure and pain of it. He cupped both breasts, holding them high and together, and buried his face against them. His hot breath washed over her, then he took one nipple between his teeth, drawing it into his mouth with a strong sucking motion. Incredible heat shot through her, and she whimpered, her hips writhing a little.
As if that were a signal he released her breast and stood, his face dark and taut with both anger and physical need. âI can make you go wild,â he said.âRemember that when you think about using the shotgun on me.â
He walked out, leaving her lying on the bed with her shirt unbuttoned and spread open, her bare breasts heaving with the violence of the response he had stirred in her. A moment later she heard him ride away. âDamn you,â she whispered, and she would have shouted it if she thought he might hear her. She was shaking with angerâor was it from the empty torment he had aroused in her body? Perhaps it was both, though the whys didnât really matter.
She had never before been vulnerable to a man, but she was to him. That was the most frightening thing she had ever faced in her life, far more frightening than being left alone to fend for herself. She had never doubted her ability to survive, but she was terrified of what Lucas could do to her.
Losing first one parent and then the other had shaken her to the core. She had been afraid, so horribly afraid, but she had had to go on. She had been forced to recognize, with brutal swiftness, how fragile life was, how easily it could be taken. She had pulled deep inside herself, unwilling to trust her emotions to anyone else because she simply couldnât bear any more pain and couldnât take the risk of losing someone else she loved. Devoting herself to the garden had saved her sanity, given her a sense of life again, because the earth was so giving. It, at least, was eternal. It would be there long after she herself had died. She could trust the warm soil, the cycles of the seasons, the renewal of life each spring. Except for Olivia, she hadnât even been tempted to let anyone close to her again.
And now Lucas was shattering her mental wall of remoteness. He could destroy not only the life she had built for herself but her very self-respect. If she let him mean too much to her, he could reduce her to someone she would despise, without will or spirit, willing to do anything to keep him happy. Wanting him hadnât blinded her to his nature; Lucas was strong and arrogant, ruthless when it came to getting what he wanted. He wanted her, and he wouldnât listen to any of her refusals. It wasnât that she feared he would force her, for his own ego wouldnât let him do that, but rather that she would lose her own will to tell him no.
He had demonstrated to her very aptly how weak she could be when he wanted to make love to her. And he hadnât even done that muchâkissed her, and touched and kissed her breastâbut she had been on the verge of pleading with him for more. It was humiliating to realize he could handle her so easily.
Though anger had motivated her to tell him not to come back, now that she had calmed down she realized it was only common sense, and the best thing for her. The question, though, was if Lucas would obey.
She had her answer early the next morning when she heard hoofbeats approaching. She looked at the shotgun but admitted that it was a futile threat, right now at least. Though she had managed to dress herself in a fashion, she still wasnât capable of lifting the heavy weapon and firing it with any sort of aim.
Without knocking he opened the front door, which had been left unbarred for the past two days. Dee turned from the stove to look at him, a stinging rebuke on her lips that she forced herself to swallow;
As if that were a signal he released her breast and stood, his face dark and taut with both anger and physical need. âI can make you go wild,â he said.âRemember that when you think about using the shotgun on me.â
He walked out, leaving her lying on the bed with her shirt unbuttoned and spread open, her bare breasts heaving with the violence of the response he had stirred in her. A moment later she heard him ride away. âDamn you,â she whispered, and she would have shouted it if she thought he might hear her. She was shaking with angerâor was it from the empty torment he had aroused in her body? Perhaps it was both, though the whys didnât really matter.
She had never before been vulnerable to a man, but she was to him. That was the most frightening thing she had ever faced in her life, far more frightening than being left alone to fend for herself. She had never doubted her ability to survive, but she was terrified of what Lucas could do to her.
Losing first one parent and then the other had shaken her to the core. She had been afraid, so horribly afraid, but she had had to go on. She had been forced to recognize, with brutal swiftness, how fragile life was, how easily it could be taken. She had pulled deep inside herself, unwilling to trust her emotions to anyone else because she simply couldnât bear any more pain and couldnât take the risk of losing someone else she loved. Devoting herself to the garden had saved her sanity, given her a sense of life again, because the earth was so giving. It, at least, was eternal. It would be there long after she herself had died. She could trust the warm soil, the cycles of the seasons, the renewal of life each spring. Except for Olivia, she hadnât even been tempted to let anyone close to her again.
And now Lucas was shattering her mental wall of remoteness. He could destroy not only the life she had built for herself but her very self-respect. If she let him mean too much to her, he could reduce her to someone she would despise, without will or spirit, willing to do anything to keep him happy. Wanting him hadnât blinded her to his nature; Lucas was strong and arrogant, ruthless when it came to getting what he wanted. He wanted her, and he wouldnât listen to any of her refusals. It wasnât that she feared he would force her, for his own ego wouldnât let him do that, but rather that she would lose her own will to tell him no.
He had demonstrated to her very aptly how weak she could be when he wanted to make love to her. And he hadnât even done that muchâkissed her, and touched and kissed her breastâbut she had been on the verge of pleading with him for more. It was humiliating to realize he could handle her so easily.
Though anger had motivated her to tell him not to come back, now that she had calmed down she realized it was only common sense, and the best thing for her. The question, though, was if Lucas would obey.
She had her answer early the next morning when she heard hoofbeats approaching. She looked at the shotgun but admitted that it was a futile threat, right now at least. Though she had managed to dress herself in a fashion, she still wasnât capable of lifting the heavy weapon and firing it with any sort of aim.
Without knocking he opened the front door, which had been left unbarred for the past two days. Dee turned from the stove to look at him, a stinging rebuke on her lips that she forced herself to swallow;
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