Married to Claim the Rancher's Heir Read online

  She hung up her jacket before eyeing him and the bed critically. “No, I don’t. There are lawyers here and judges. We can get a divorce or just have the marriage annulled.”

  “And what about Ruby?”

  She sat down on the bed and started to remove her shoes. “She’ll live here with me.”

  “With a killer on loose? I don’t think so.”

  “I won’t bring her here until Isaac is arrested.”

  “His name is Sam,” Gabe said, not sure why he needed to point that out, other than to make sure she realized how dangerous Bollinger was. “And he may never be caught. Furthermore, if his father’s cell mate knew about the gold, someone else does, too. Probably a lot of other people who won’t stop until that gold is found.”

  She set her shoes aside. “You believe that story? You believe that my father stole gold from the army?”

  He hung his vest next to her coat. “I didn’t say that.”

  “But you think it?” She bounded off the bed. “And what are you doing?”

  Not about to tell her what he thought about several things, he walked around her and sat down on the bed to kick off his boots. “Getting ready for bed.”

  “You aren’t sleeping here. This is my room.”

  “I’m sleeping here.” Keeping his eyes locked on hers, he stood. “And so are you.” Anger flashed in her eyes, and before she could hurl it at him, he said, “Sam Bollinger is out there somewhere, and he’s after more than gold.” The private conversation he’d had with the sheriff had convinced him that Janette would not leave his sight until he could talk to the Pinkerton agent next door. “Bollinger’s killed before and won’t think twice about doing it again.”

  The alarm on her face said she fully understood and believed him, yet she shook her head. “There are deputies at the front and back doors.”

  “Yes, there are, but that might not be enough.” He walked over and blew out the lamp. “Get in bed.”

  “You can’t order me around like—”

  He grasped her waist and planted her on the bed before she could finish her rant. His nerves were already shot, and his will had been tested for too long. Plopping onto the mattress beside her, he said, “Go to sleep.”

  It was hotter up here than it had been downstairs, and lying next to her had his temperature increasing by the second. Flustered, he clambered off the bed to walk over and open the window. City noises floated in, sounds he wasn’t used to, but neither of them would be able to sleep without some fresh air.

  She’d sat up and was glaring at him. The desires that she’d awoken in him hadn’t been doused by all that had happened, but they weren’t going to stop him from staying at her side all night.

  “Go to sleep,” he repeated while climbing back onto the bed.

  She flopped about, lying down with her back to him. He huffed out a sigh and closed his eyes, knowing sleep would be his salvation.

  * * *

  Gabe’s mind had been so full of her lately that he wasn’t sure if he’d been asleep and dreaming about her, or merely imagining things that could never be, when soft and muffled whimpers had him rolling over.

  He laid a hand on her trembling shoulder and tugged her onto her back. The moonlight caught on her face, and his heart took a tumble as it never had before. He’d never met anyone whose eyes could make him feel so much without a single word spoken.

  She wiped at her cheeks before asking, “You don’t really think my father would have been involved in robbing gold, do you?”

  “No,” he said quietly.

  “I don’t either, but...”

  He snaked one arm beneath her neck and the other around her waist, drawing her close. “Shh. Just go to sleep.”

  “I was asleep,” she whispered, “but dreamed—”

  “Shh,” he said again. “You’re safe.”

  She shifted slightly, onto her side so the fronts of their bodies were aligned. And touching. Her scent filled him, making his desires peak.

  “I thought I had my life all figured out. Knew exactly what I wanted,” she whispered. “But I’m not so sure anymore.”

  He tried to not react to how close her mouth was to his or to remember how sweet her lips had tasted. “That happens to most everyone.”

  “Did it happen to you?”

  “It is right now,” he admitted.

  “It is?” Her breath tickled his lips as she spoke.

  He tried to ignore the desires erupting inside him. “Yes.”

  “I should be mad at you, and I’ve tried, but I can’t be. You’re the only one who... The only one I want...” She closed her eyes. “Oh, Gabe.”

  All the reasons he couldn’t kiss her flew out the open window.

  Their lips met. Once. Twice. By the third time, he was so lost in their sweetness, he had to have more. He parted her lips with his tongue and slid it into her mouth, catching hers with all the joy of a kid playing hide-and-seek. She’d wrapped her arms around him and was responding to his kisses with more enthusiasm than he’d ever imagined.

  His hand roamed up and down her side, seeking treasures as wonderful as his tongue had found. The underside of her breast brushed against his palm, and he continued the upward sweep until his palm was full and his thumb found the nipple turning hard beneath the material covering it.

  She whispered his name before deepening the kiss, and he’d never known one word could affect him so deeply.

  He’d spent his entire life working, using every muscle, sometimes in ways that made them hurt, but knew he’d never been so out of control of his own body as right now. He was aching and throbbing and knew she was the only thing that could satisfy the hunger burning inside him.

  She made him feel, made him want, made him whole in a way he’d never been. The material covering her breasts was silky and soft, but he needed more. Sliding his hand down her side, under the waistband of her skirt, he pulled out the material, layers of it, until finally finding what he sought. Her skin was perfect. Warm. Soft. Smooth.

  He pulled her closer while thrusting forward, pressing hard against her. It was as heavenly as it was agonizing. Twisting his wrist, he moved his hand downward, beneath layers of fabric, over the smooth, flawless skin of her bottom. Cupping the perfect plumpness, he pulled her against his hardness.

  The moan that echoed in his ears could have been his, or hers. Their tongues were still dancing, tasting, and her hand had gone beneath his shirt. Her palm slid along his side and her fingernails skimmed against his skin. It was incredible. He’d had women before, but it had never been this intense.

  Near desperate with need, he pulled his mouth from hers and trailed a line of kisses down her neck. She rolled onto her back, giving him more access, but he stopped himself from taking it in order to meet her gaze.

  Those violet eyes spoke to him again. Asking him for more as she grasped his face and met his lips for another round of heated kisses. When their mouths parted, he kissed the V of skin exposed by the top of her blouse, and then lower, through the material. When his lips encountered the firm nipple he’d teased earlier, he licked it before taking the perfect mound into his mouth.

  This time he knew the moan came from her, and it was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. As he suckled, his hand searched the waistband of her skirt, and when it found the tie strings, he easily manipulated them loose. He did the same with the one on her pantaloons, giving his hand room to roam over her hips, across her flat stomach and lower.

  He trailed kisses from one breast to the other and took one into his mouth as his fingertips brushed along the top of bushy curls between her legs. The sweet cooing sounds she made encouraged him to continue and filled him with as much pleasure as it did need. He’d never been this focused on someone before. A thought crossed his mind right then, and for a moment he froze.

  His heart had never been pr
esent before. Not like it was right now. Thudding. Pounding. Full.

  “Gabe?”

  Her voice was little more than a gasp.

  He kissed the V of her skin again, and her chin, before he brought his mouth even with hers. “Yes,” he said with his lips barely brushing hers.

  “Don’t think. Don’t stop.”

  The kiss she initiated said that was exactly what she wanted. No time to think.

  Her kiss was wild, passionate, and as their tongues chased each other around, she unbuttoned his shirt. Her fingernails scraping the length of his chest almost brought him to his limit, yet he kept his attention on her. On the escape she needed as he slid his fingers lower, past the curls and into the hot folds of her womanhood.

  * * *

  Janette had experienced the hot swirling deep between her legs only once before. Last night, while dreaming about Gabe. If not for the earthy, fascinating scent of him filling her, she might wonder if she was dreaming again. That and how her breasts throbbed, wishing he would kiss them again. It was hard to concentrate on them when his hand was between her legs. Touching her in such a way a magnificent heat swirled upward, all the way to her head, as if she was twirling and twirling and twirling.

  Her thoughts, her mind, her body were focused on a powerful desire for more. More of him, of her. One of his fingers slid inside her, and the pleasure was so great, she gasped and moaned at the same time. The amazing sensations he created were all consuming, and she spread her legs wider, giving him more access, knowing that would give her more satisfaction.

  It did.

  So did his kisses. The lick of his tongue against her breast this time said there was no barrier. She didn’t know how her blouse had been unbuttoned or how her shift had been pushed out of the way but was extremely glad.

  He licked and suckled, even nibbled on her nipples, and all of it made her want more. Of what she didn’t know, but she wanted it. Needed it. Her hips rose again, taking his finger deeper inside her, and her fingers dug deep into his hair, holding his head to one breast and then the other.

  Her heart raced, her breath came faster and faster, as if trying to keep up with the way her hips rose and fell in time with his hand. His finger slid in and out, while his thumb kept solid pressure on a point that held her attention. Everything about her was centered on that point. That pressure. The amazing swirling filling her came from there. From him, and it was so amazing she didn’t want it to stop. Along with the swirling, there was a sharp but wonderful sensation that kept her hips moving, begging his finger to continue moving in and out. Up and down. Around and around.

  Unable to think of anything but him, but the wondrous sensations overtaking her entire body, she pulled his head back up for another kiss, another round of tongue tasting. She didn’t want this to end. She’d never been so free to just feel. Just be.

  His finger went faster, and, needing to catch her breath, she broke the kiss, gasping. Air wouldn’t catch in her lungs, and her hips were going faster, trying to keep up with him. Moisture seeped from her as intensity gripped her so strongly she cried out his name. For no reason other than she didn’t want him to stop.

  He didn’t. He kissed her face, her cheeks, her eyes, all the while whispering, “That’s my girl, keep going, Janette. You’re beautiful. So beautiful.”

  The ache inside her built, taking all of her, her thoughts, her mind, her body, with it in a swirling magnificence that had nowhere to go but somehow did. To a point where an amazingly inner release let loose and washed over her entire being with a force so powerful she once again cried out his name.

  His lips were on hers then, and kissed her as a spiraling delight washed over her. Her body shuddered in the most magnificent, wondrous way she was incapable of doing anything but bask in an aftermath that left her boneless.

  “That’s my girl,” he whispered again, kissing the side of her face.

  Her head felt as heavy as the rest of her. She couldn’t even twist to smile at him. But she was smiling. And incredibly happy.

  He once again pulled her close. “Now you can sleep,” he whispered.

  “You, too,” she whispered.

  “Me, too.”

  Her smile grew as she snuggled closer, more content than she may ever have been.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Janette tried to shut out the sounds of wagons on cobblestones and return to the dream that had her insides glowing. Glowing like they never had before. She couldn’t recall the dream but knew it had to be wonderful because—

  Her eyes snapped open as she shot up in bed.

  The empty room had her putting a hand over her racing heart. Glancing down at her unbuttoned blouse, a rock-solid lump formed in her throat. Dear heavens. It hadn’t been a dream.

  It had to have been.

  But it wasn’t.

  Had she really done all those things? Really let Gabe do all those things to her?

  Yes.

  And it had been amazing.

  She covered her eyes with both hands. How could she face him? How could she face anyone?

  “Oh, dear Lord,” she muttered.

  Sounds drifted through the window, that of people talking. She tossed aside the covers. Her fingers trembled as she tied her pantaloons laces and buttoned her blouse, and her legs felt weak as she walked to the window. Thelma was at the well in the backyard, and talking to someone.

  Janette leaned out the window, but the porch roof hid whoever was there. Thelma, however, noticed her and waved.

  Pulling her head back in, Janette closed the window and spun around.

  The swirling cluster of memories stopped short as her eyes landed on the wardrobe on the far side of the room. The doors had been torn off the cabinet. She crossed the room and lifted aside one door. Her stomach knotted at how few garments hung there.

  She was still standing there when Thelma opened the door.

  “I was wondering when you were going to get up,” the other woman said.

  “They even ruined my clothes?”

  Thelma nodded. “Tore them to shreds. I salvaged what I could.”

  Willing her hands to stop shaking, she took out a dress and carried it to the bed. Memories of what the downstairs of the house had looked like last night filled her, and she hoped it wasn’t as bad as she remembered.

  “I brought you up some fresh water,” Thelma said, placing a bowl on the dresser that no longer had drawers. “That husband of yours has been up for hours.”

  No matter what had happened last night, she hadn’t changed her mind about some things. “He’s not my husband,” Janette said.

  “He’s not? He said he was. That you got married in—”

  “He’s not really my husband.” Janette drew a breath in order to ignore the butterflies in her stomach. And lower. “The judge married us because of Ruby, but I’m going to petition for a divorce or annulment.”

  “So you haven’t—”

  “No,” Janette snapped as her insides erupted, telling her exactly what Thelma was referring to.

  With both brows lifted, Thelma looked her up and down and then shook her head. “Then you have more willpower than I ever would have.”

  Janette opened her mouth but couldn’t think of a response.

  “He’s one of the best-looking men I ever laid eyes on. Including my Lewis.” With a sigh, Thelma crossed the room. “I kept breakfast warm for you.”

  Janette spun around to ask, “Where is he?”

  “Who?” Thelma asked as she walked over the threshold.

  “Gabe!”

  Thelma poked her head around the door she was closing. “Your husband is next door. Should be back shortly. I’ve kept his breakfast warm, too.”

  Janette was about to let out a huff of breath when a smile formed. If nothing else would send Gabe back to his ranch, Thelma�
�s cooking would. The smile slipped off her face, as if Gabe’s leaving wasn’t what she wanted. Tossing that thought aside, she used the water, got dressed, brushed her hair and headed for the door. Ready or not, there were things that needed to be done. She had to get this house in order so Gabe would leave. He might be worse than any man she’d known. He not only believed her father had something to do with the stolen gold, he’d made her do things she’d never imagined, and she would not tolerate that.

  Her footsteps stumbled as a faint memory told her that she’d wanted him last night. Wanted him to touch her, kiss her, just as he had.

  Janette pressed a hand against her stomach, where a deep and unique stirring erupted, saying she wanted all those things again. “Oh, fiddlesticks,” she muttered. “Could things get any worse?”

  They did shortly after she’d eaten her breakfast. As much as she could anyway. She’d almost forgotten just how poor Thelma’s cooking was. Nonetheless, she’d thanked Thelma for the meal as she’d always done and then entered her sewing room, only to stop in her tracks and shout for Thelma.

  “What? What is it?” the older woman asked, hurrying into the room.

  Pointing toward the crates and trunks, she asked, “Was all of this packed up last night?”

  “No. Since you were still sleeping, I started down here.”

  Confused, Janette glanced back at the half-dozen crates. “Where’d all these crates come from?”

  Thelma shrugged. “Before your husband went next door, he had one of the deputies carry them inside and told me to start packing things.”

  Janette bit her lip in order to keep her voice down. “Gabe. His name is Gabe. Not my husband. Why’d he tell you to start packing?”

  “I don’t know. No one has told me anything. Not even that Deputy Marcus. He was kind the night of the break-in, but yesterday he refused to say more than the sheriff ordered deputies to stand outside both doors until you arrived.” Thelma scratched the side of her face as she frowned. “Why are they here?”

  “Because of the break-in.”