His Most Wanted by Sandra Jones Page A

lantern.
    â€œWhoa, hold on.” He stopped her hand as she reached for the light. His touch was hot. As she waited half-stretched across the bed, she caught the tantalizing glimpse of his chest under the unbuttoned shirt. “You don’t expect me to undress in the dark, do you?” he murmured in a silky voice.
    She pulled loose from him. “No. Of course not.” Avoided his questioning stare, she unbuckled her gun belt and hung the holster over her side of the bed.
    He sat on the edge of the mattress and drew in an intake of air between his teeth.
    She froze at the sound. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
    â€œSplendid.” He opened the side of his shirt, exposing his tawny, smooth torso to the lamplight, and she feasted on the sculpted muscles of his side. “Just wonderful,” he grumbled, looking down at his chest.
    She leaned around him and saw what had drawn his dry remark—a bruised knot just below his pectoral muscle. “Oh, I think you might have a broken rib.” Her outstretched fingers hovered over the lump, longing to soothe away the swelling.
    His mouth skewered derisively. “I don’t think the bone’s broken. At least not as badly as the last time. After a brawl in Memphis, I’d thought if I had one more broken bone, I’d collapse like a tower of cards. I could barely draw a breath.”
    She withdrew her hand as her gaze connected with his. It seemed incredible to imagine his body so damaged since it looked so perfect now. She smiled. “Let me help you remove your boots, at least. You should be as still as possible. Gracious, to think we walked all that distance today…”
    She left the bed and went around to face him. Gathering his long legs in her arms, she stretched him out on the mattress. This time felt vastly different than the last time she’d tended him, when he’d been drunk and veritably defenseless. Now she was keenly aware of him, his power and his spell over her once he took her in an embrace.
    â€œWhat about you?” He leaned against the oak headboard, pillowing his head on one of his arms as he watched.
    â€œWhat about me?” She grabbed one boot behind the heel and tugged it off.
    He studied her with frank interest. “You aren’t sleeping in your clothes, are you?”
    She sat beside him and glanced down at her traveling attire. “I am. What choice do I have?”
    He was silent for a long moment as she removed the other boot and set it beside the first on the floor. “We’re not in the Willows anymore,” he said, his voice gone gravelly.
    She swallowed. Was he implying that she was free to do anything she wanted? Because what she presently wanted frightened the hell out of her. How could she act on her desires when at any moment the past might come back to interrupt?
    â€œI can’t undress. The light is still on.”
    â€œYou know what I’m talking about. Hell…the light, the divider, my nakedness? What’s changed since we were up there on Dillard’s Peak?” His eyes grew serious but held no trace of anger or impatience.
    â€œNothing.” She forced a smile.
    â€œCora.” He touched her knee and stroked the back of his fingers up her thigh. “It’s not smart to bait a bear. Earlier today, you offered yourself to me. What if I’d called your bluff and taken you up on that?”
    â€œI wasn’t bluffin’. Not then anyway.” She wrapped her arms around her middle, suddenly feeling naked to him. “You said no, so there’s the end of it.” Tears of humiliation pricked her eyes. How long would she suffer, unable to enjoy the very thing that was her livelihood—lovemaking, the pleasures of the bedroom? Her mama had enjoyed sex so well she’d given up everything to build a life around it.
    Kit eased up, cringing with the effort, and touched her cheek with surprising gentleness. “You know