Nights with the Outlaw Read online

  “I didn’t kill them, Doreena,” he said, sounding almost disgusted.

  “Why not?”

  The way her eyes snapped, and her curt and harsh tone, had Clint’s guts churning. No, he hadn’t stayed because of the Harmon brothers. He’d stayed because of her, but that didn’t matter. His innermost consciousness, that hidden piece of him that had warned him to keep on riding when he’d seen that pig tearing up the tree, had been right all along. For as much as she protested and said his past wasn’t an issue, the minute it came into question, she believed the worst about him. A heated tussle erupted inside him. Half of him said he should have told her everything. How the only way to keep Nelson Harmon from battering his mother had been to ride with the gang, do everything they told him—a kid of thirteen—to do.

  The other half of him said saddle up and ride. She wouldn’t have understood these excuses days ago, and wouldn’t now.

  Yesterday, when he’d gotten a closer look at the men and confirmed Drake and his deputy were really Martin and Henderson Harmon, he’d left town, the back way. Neither brother had gotten a glimpse of him. The visit he’d then paid to the two men in the hills had told him all he needed to know.

  A sixth sense had him glancing back to Doreena. Pain sat heavy and clear on her face. He hadn’t laid a hand on her, but he’d hurt her as badly as Nelson used to hurt his mother.

  Escapades during the years of living and riding with the Harmon brothers bounced about in his mind. It had taken two years to convince the law to listen to him about why he’d gotten involved with the gang. Two years of living in a cell smaller than the pen her prized boar lived in.

  Air hotter than the devil breathed burned his lungs, forcing him to let it out. Despite everything they’d done to him, he hadn’t gunned down the Harmons because he hadn’t wanted to look evil in Doreena’s eyes. Bitter, he twirled around and headed for the barn.

  “Clint?”

  “I gotta go.”

  Chapter Six

  When he pulled his saddle off the stand, she stood between him and Runner. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m leaving.” He explained the obvious.

  It was a stare down, and try as he might, he couldn’t make her back down. Her eyes never even flickered. Finally, he shouldered past her.

  “Where are you going?”

  The tremble in her voice hit his heart, making it throb painfully. He tossed the saddle across Runner’s back. His lungs were heavy, as if clogged with thick and clinging mud. He couldn’t lie to her. “To do the job I was hired to do.”

  “Will you be back?”

  His heart screamed yes, but his head told him to think about it. What would he really be saying if he said yes? He turned to face her. It was a mistake.

  She looked so forlorn, so dejected and hurt, and yet so tender and sweet. . He reached out and pulled her forward. It was as if neither of them had any control. Their hands, their lips, their bodies acted without sensible thoughts leading them. The kiss was heated and aching, and made them both more frantic. His hands roamed her, memorizing the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts, burning an image into his mind of the most beautiful woman he’d ever know. Ever love. He drank her sweetness, wishing it wasn’t the last time he’d experience such a delicacy. It was more than he deserved, but he took what she offered nonetheless.

  With his mind and heart still feuding, he ended the kiss by gently pushing her away.

  She looked him straight in the eye, and with tears trailing down her cheeks, squared her shoulders. “I won’t beg you to return.”

  “I know,” he whispered.

  Straight backed and stiff, she turned and left the barn. Watching her walk away, he fell deeper and deeper in love. It had to be love. Nothing else could go so deep, hurt so severely.

  Dobbs appeared then and saddled a horse. Clint ignored the man. If he spoke, the stinging in his throat would make his voice crack.

  The man followed as Clint rode out of the barn. It wasn’t until miles later, when sweat coated Runner’s neck that Clint pulled the animal into a walk and turned a steely gaze on his uninvited companion.

  Dobbs was a thin man, with knobby knees and sunken eyes, who looked as if he’d never eaten enough to completely fill out. He gave a stiff nod. “Joe’ll make sure there’s no trouble at the house.”

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “With you,” Dobbs answered.

  “I don’t need anyone riding with me.”

  “I know.”

  Doreena smoothed the folded shirt flat with both hands as she set it back down on the narrow cot in the bunkhouse. This was the tenth morning she’d awoken without Clint gracing the ranch. It was as if she’d lost a major piece of her being. Her heart hung so heavy it hurt to breathe. She had no idea where he was, and had found no answers in town. Drake and his deputy had disappeared a few days ago. No one knew where they’d gone. The cliff dwellers had moved out, as well. Joe was no help, either, claiming he didn’t know why Dobbs had ridden out with Clint.

  The loss of two hired hands should have had her in a tizzy, but it didn’t. One thing had come out of Clint’s absence—an epiphany of sorts. For all her insistence his past didn’t matter, the moment it came to light, she’d balked. Truth was, his past wasn’t the problem. Her insecurity was. Losing someone dear to her was her true fear. And why she’d recoiled at the concept of Clint leaving. She turned away from the bed, gasping for air.

  “Stop it,” she said aloud, swiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “Without Drake’s interferences, I don’t have nearly the problems I had before.” At the window she pulled aside the curtain. “Now that Tristan has taken an interest in the ranch, things will be easier than before.”

  “Who you trying to convince, girl? Besides yourself?”

  She spun to the open doorway. Jeb’s cane thumped against the floor as he stepped into the bunkhouse.

  “No one.” She sighed. “I’m only trying to convince myself.” A chair was nearby so she sat. “And I’m not doing a very good job of it.” Most likely because giving up wasn’t in her system. That still held true. She wanted Clint. Here. Now. Forever. Outlaw or not.

  Jeb leaned against the wall. “Dobbs rode in a few minutes ago.”

  “He did?” She jumped from the chair. “Is Clint with him?”

  “No,” Jeb said. “But Dobbs said you’re to meet him by the pig’s tree.”

  The next instant, she was out the door and racing down the steps. It took forever to get Scout saddled, due to how her hands shook, and the miles separating her from the oak seemed longer than ever. Sweat coated Scout’s neck, and her heart pounded in her chest by the time the tree came into view.

  Clint was nowhere in sight. Neither was Runner.

  Doreena slid out of the saddle, and made her way to the tree, scanning all directions. She should have talked to Dobbs first. Maybe Clint had said she was to meet him there later today, or tomorrow, or—

  Something caught her eye. Stepping beneath the broad branches covered with thick leaves that cast a wide shadow, she felt a smile rise from her chest to splay across her face. A large heart had been whittled in the thick bark, along with CT Loves DB.

  Happiness bubbled in her chest.

  “Know anyone with those initials?”

  Her gaze snapped up to the branches. “What are you doing up there?”

  “Waiting for you.” Clint, grinning from ear to ear, flipped around and hung from the branch by his arms before landing on the ground.

  For the first time in her life, she had no idea what to do. She wanted to leap into his arms, but wariness held her back.

  “So—” he gestured toward the carving “—do you know anyone with those initials?”

  Her heart threatened to leap out of her body. “Yes, I do. Do you?”

  “I hope so, since I carved it.” His hands wrapped around her upper arms.

  The familiarity of his touch had her body wilting in pleasure. “You
did a good job, too.”

  “Thanks. It’s some of my best work,” he whispered.

  The desire to be held by him ate at her. She pressed both hands against her pounding heart. “So what do we do about it?”

  “What do you want to do about it?” He was freshly shaven and wearing new clothes. All in all, he’d never looked better. The scent of spicy soap had her drawing in a deep breath. He lifted a hand and pushed her hair behind one ear. “The Harmon brothers are in jail. Dobbs and I saw them, as well as the cave dwellers, all the way to Lincoln.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes. They’ll spend the rest of their lives in a Missouri prison, alongside their brother Nelson.” His fingers combed into her hair and he tilted her face upward. “I’m still an outlaw, Doreena, or at least I was. Nothing can ever change that. But if you’ll marry me, I promise I’ll walk on the right side of the law the rest of our lives.”

  The heat of his body had her insides swirling, but his words had her heart pounding in her ears, making her wonder if she’d heard right. “Marry you?”

  He nodded. “Yep. Marry me.”

  She swooned into his arms, into his life, the one place she lived to be. His lips found hers, and the intensity of his kiss had her clinging to him. She buried her breasts against his chest, delighting in the painful, yet, thrilling way they tingled and throbbed. He instilled feelings in her she’d never known existed, but she knew there was more. Much more.

  His lips left hers and trailed down her neck and up the other side before he leaned back enough to look down at her. “Is that a yes?”

  She leaped, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. “Yes, that’s a yes.”

  He wrapped his arms around her bottom, holding her in place. “Can you live with it? The fact I was an outlaw?”

  She pushed away his hat and ran her hands into his hair. “I can live with it, because I know what’s inside you. I’ve seen it from the moment I met you. You may have ridden with outlaws, you may have done what they told you, but deep down, you were doing it to save your mother, not for yourself.”

  “How do you know that?” he asked wonderingly.

  “I just do. It’s the truth, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it’s the truth. She—”

  Doreena pressed her lips to his, stopping his words. “It’s over. You did what you had to do. Everyone stumbles. Everyone falls. It’s the way you pick yourself up that tells the world who you are.”

  “You don’t give up, do you?”

  “Not on you. Not now. Not ever.” She gazed deep into his eyes.

  If possible, the tenderness she’d always seen in his eyes grew. It dawned on her then. It was love. This man held more love inside him than any dozen others. Life with him would be a precious gift she’d forever cherish. She pressed her lips to his again. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” He spun on his heels.

  She giggled, growing light-headed as the world whirled around them.

  When he stopped and covered her mouth with his, a deep intuition rose from her core, begging for more. Her breasts tingled and a growing heat formed in the juncture of her legs. “Clint,” she whispered against his lips. “I-I need…” She didn’t know exactly what to say.

  Abruptly, he set her down, took her hand.

  After two steps, she asked, “Where are we going?”

  “Back to the ranch. Before we do something we shouldn’t,” he said grimly.

  She skidded to a halt.

  He stopped, as well. “At least not until we’re married.”

  “The preacher won’t be in town for two more weeks.” Running a lazy fingertip over the buttons on his shirt, she said, “Clint, I’m done waiting.”

  He gazed at her searchingly, but hope also shimmered in his eyes. “Done waiting?”

  Biting her lip to contain her excitement, she nodded. “I’ve dreamed of what we’ll do together, and I can’t wait two weeks.” She kissed the tip of his chin. “Can you?”

  Chapter Seven

  Heat and pleasure radiated from her center and flowed profoundly through her body as Clint lowered her onto the soft grass beneath the tree. Every touch of his lips, every stroke of his hands had her senses reeling. Their shoes and several pieces of clothing were in a haphazard pile beside them. She ran her hand over the hard contours of his chest. It was like touching heaven; there was nothing else comparable.

  He pushed her hair from her face. “You’re so beautiful, so wonderful. Are you sure you want to marry me?”

  “More than anything else in the world.” She kissed his neck, savoring the tang of his skin.

  His lips pressed against hers softly and lingered there for a long time. The touch was so intense it stunned her. When he lifted his face, he said, “I never fathomed the things I want with you. Life. Family. Home.”

  “That’s what I want, too.” There was no shyness inside her, only a hot, strong desire. “And I want you, Clint. Now.”

  His smile lit up his face. “I’ll never be able to deny you anything.”

  She giggled. “I hope not. Especially right now.”

  The sun bore down on the earth, but beneath the shade of their tree, a sweet breeze floated over her skin as Clint, with tender, gentle hands, and even more affectionate kisses, eased away her underclothes. The way his eyes savored her body, as if he’d never seen anything more glorious, filled her with exquisite pleasure. His movements, how he rolled down her stockings or lifted her camisole over her head, were slow and languid, as if he unwrapped a delicate package. Afterward, when he set each article aside, he explored the exposed skin with his hands, and tempted the growing storm within her by kissing each inch.

  Every touch, though soft and gentle, was powerful, making her sigh with pleasure while increasing the sensations awaking inside her. The need grew more demanding, focused on an action she knew little about, but wanted beyond reality.

  She grew fervent, afraid she might perish if he didn’t soon satisfy the heated turbulence overcoming her. Kneading the thick muscles of his sides and hips, her fingers tingled and her palms quivered at the intimate touches while her eyes feasted on his masterful body.

  He leaned down and covered her nipple with his mouth. The delightful intensity lifted her back off the ground, and she dug her hands into his shoulders, wanting to cry out with joy. Glorious sensations shot through her system faster than her blood could flow. His fingers weaved their way down below her stomach, to her private center. There they caressed her so sweetly she buckled, squeezing his hand between her thighs.

  Unable to take much more, she found the waistband of his britches and worked her fingers to the front, searching for the buttoned flap. His arousal, gallant and telling, increased her natural boldness. The buttons parted, and her fingers wrapped around the hot shaft. Stroking him caused a surge of boiling flames where his fingers continued to fondle.

  “Clint,” she gasped, “I’m on fire with want.”

  “Me, too, darling.” His lips left her breasts and found her mouth. “Me, too.”

  She pushed his pants down, caressing the firmness of his backside and the tight muscles of his thighs.

  He rolled onto his back and shed the pants, tossing them aside. She grabbed his arms, pulling him back toward her.

  The smile on his face made her giggle. “I’m a bit impatient.”

  “I noticed,” Clint said, kissing her nose, and drowning in the love beating inside his chest. He’d taken a chance on returning, a leap of faith his heart had conjured up. It had insisted she needed him, and he needed her. It was right.

  So hard he was ready to burst, Clint fought to control his desire. He wanted to be gentle, give her the opportunity to savor their first time together the same way he was.

  “I don’t want to cause you pain, Doreena,” he murmured, searching her moist warmth with his fingers again. The touch renewed his passion, making him throb with expectation.

  She spread her legs wide, givin
g him room to settle his knees between hers. “Then take me now, Clint. Now, before I expire from yearning.”

  He eased his fingers away and used them to guide his way into her folds. Cautiously he pushed forward, but drew back before full engagement. She lifted her hips confidently, pulling him forward again.

  Their pace grew gradually, every thrust more splendid than the last, and when he entered her fully, she gasped, but her hands clutching his backside and her arched back refused to allow him to withdraw. After a short pause, their mutual momentum began again.

  Glorying in her eagerness, he moved, drawing them closer and closer together with every plunge. A natural rhythm ensued, one they both instinctively knew. The pleasure on her face, the way she increased her speed, keeping the movements both equal and enthralling, had Clint reeling with sensations that would forever remain in his mind. The sharing of need, the distribution of give-and-take, was completely unforgettable. It went on and on, until he was overwhelmingly immersed in nothing but their union.

  His body grew hard, his time of release urgent, but he held back, watching her face, feeling her body as it reacted to wave after wave of pleasure erupting between them.

  “Clint,” she exclaimed, wrapping her legs around his thighs as she met her summit.

  He groaned as he discharged in a moment of liberation, becoming one forever with Doreena. The act was exhausting, and invigorating, and made him want to shout at the deep and profound ecstasy. He kissed her instead, thoroughly. When she relaxed and grew lethargic beneath him, he slid off her. Unwilling to experience separation, he pulled her close and caressed her silky skin.

  “That was amazing,” she whispered as she settled her cheek upon his chest and her leg across his.

  “Yes, it was,” he admitted. “So are you.”

  She sighed with pleasure, and he kissed the top of her head as she twisted.

  Her gaze was on the tree. A sudden quiver of unease rippled his spine. “I carved that because I figured we’d both lost some of our youth. We’ve been too busy with life to experience the simple, silly things others may have.”