Secluded with the Rogue

Chapter 3

Three

A s Zach ate his meal, he watched Bethany across the small fire. He couldn’t figure her out. Why hadn’t she run screaming in terror? He was a felon, a murderer, yet she’d treated him as though he were the preacher come for Sunday supper.

Christ, she’d been like heaven in his arms, pushing against him so sweetly, cradling the rigid length of his cock between the soft curves of her ass as though she’d wanted him there. He’d kissed her neck and cupped her breast and almost came on the spot.

It had been so long… He hadn’t been with a woman since his wife, Hannah, had been killed. He’d made himself crazy in prison, trying to remember the last time they’d made love. Had it been a day before her death or a week? He should remember the last time, but he couldn’t.

Forcing thoughts of Hannah away, he concentrated once again on his companion. He’d done a lot of bad things in his life, but he figured planning how to seduce this sweet woman ranked right up there with the murders he’d committed. Higher, really, since the men he’d killed were rapists and killers and had deserved to die.

But if he must burn for his sins, he decided he might as well commit one that was worth it. Was it so wrong to try and grab a few moments of tenderness and bliss before he went to ground again, hunted like the animal he’d become?

Finished with his meal, he threw the paper sack into the fire, watching the flames kick up for a second as they devoured it. “How’s your leg?”

She gave him a startled glance. “It throbs. But I don’t think it’s bleeding anymore.”

“Good. I worried when I saw your bandage had soaked through.”

She shivered a bit and drew the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “I’m still cold. But I feel much better now that I’ve eaten.”

Her words gave him the opening he was looking for. “We should try to get some sleep. If we lie beside each other and share the blankets, we should stay warm even if the fire goes out.”

“Can I trust you?” Her imploring gaze made him feel like the biggest cad who’d ever lived. “Promise me I can trust you, Zach.”

Shit. It had been an eternity since someone had trusted him or believed there was even an ounce of goodness in him. “Yeah,” he mumbled, knowing her trust was the one thing he couldn’t betray. “You can trust me.”

She gave him a tentative smile and remade the pallet, smoothing the heavy blankets until they were neat. Blushing, she slid beneath the top three. Sighing, he got to his feet, wishing he could take off the damp trousers. But they would serve as a necessary shield, so he supposed he could bear the discomfort.

He stoked the fire and then crawled into bed beside her. An entire foot of space yawned between them. For endless moments, neither of them moved, and the crackling flames sounded loud in the tense silence.

“When I woke up in your arms, I thought you were my husband, David.” She turned to face him in the flickering light. “He died a year ago. Of tuberculosis. That’s why we moved to Colorado. The doctors said the air would be good for his lungs.”

Hearing the pain in her voice, he reached out and pulled her into his arms, offering the only comfort he could, so glad she’d given him a reason to close the space between them. “Ah, darlin’, I’m sorry.”

She snuggled close as though she’d wanted his arms around her all along. “I’ve missed this. Being so close to someone, close enough to hear a heartbeat. Since David died, I’ve been so cold, so alone.”

He hugged her tight, her words striking a chord deep within him. “I know. My wife died five years ago.”

“Were you angry with her?” she asked. “Were you angry with her for leaving you all alone?”

Zach shook his head in denial. “No, I was angry with myself. For not being there when she needed me.”

Bethany stared at her handsome companion in the flickering light, stunned by his soft confession. She wondered if he meant his wife had died while he was in prison. Whatever the circumstances, his grief was real. The pain in his eyes convinced her he’d once loved a woman with fierce devotion.

With each passing moment, she found it harder to believe he was a killer. Though she knew it was foolish, she longed to believe he was a good man. Reaching up, she traced his lean jaw, discovering the dark stubble shadowing his beautiful face was surprisingly soft.

“Don’t blame yourself. I’m sure she knew how much you loved her.”

He closed his eyes and pressed his cheek against her palm. “Did she? I didn’t even know myself until she was gone.”

She inched closer, wrapping her arms around his neck, only to shift back when her feet encountered his damp trousers. He couldn’t be comfortable, and she knew he was enduring the cold to protect her modesty. She bit her lip, wondering if she dared suggest he take them off.

What harm could it do? If he meant to have her, one layer of damp material wouldn’t stop him. And she didn’t want him to become ill. She didn’t care what laws he’d broken; he’d saved her life, and she didn’t want him to go back to jail.

“Your trousers are soaked,” she murmured, gathering her courage. “You’ll get sick if you don’t take them off.”

He opened his eyes, surprise shimmering in those deep blue depths. “Aren’t you afraid of me?”

“You said I could trust you,” she reminded him, feeling reckless. For some reason, she did trust him. So far, he’d been far more of a gentleman than she had any right to expect.

“Thank you, darlin’. You don’t know how much that means to me.” He caught her hand in his and pressed a swift kiss to the center of her palm, sending a wave of heat up her arm to center with pulsating urgency in the pit of her stomach. “Would you turn around?”

She rolled on her side, facing the fire as he sat up and fumbled with his trousers. The cold air brushed her backside as the blankets shifted, but he finished quickly and then pulled her against his chest, holding her tight as shivers wracked his big body.

“Much better,” he whispered, his breath warm against her neck. “Is this all right? For me to hold you this way?”

She nodded, too overwhelmed by his warmth and strength to object. He held her as though she was precious to him. As though he cared for her. Tears stung her eyes as she realized how much she needed this. To be held, touched, and treated as a flesh and blood woman after so many years of being a sick man’s nurse and then a dead man’s widow.

“Do you know what I missed most during all those years in prison?” He brushed a few strands of her hair away from her cheek, his touch gentle and unthreatening. “I missed having someone to talk to. I missed those conversations Hannah and I had when we were alone in bed together after all the day's chores. Would you talk to me for a while, darlin’?”

His soft admission touched her deeply, and her heart melted. “Of course. But I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me about yourself, your family, the weather. Hell, I don’t care. I just want to listen to your sweet voice and pretend…” He trailed off, then gave an uncomfortable laugh.

He wanted to pretend she was his wife. The words hung unspoken between them, but she wasn’t upset. She could do this for him. It was the least she could do, given all he’d done for her.

“I grew up in Boston,” she began, her words slow and halting. “My father owns a shipping company. My mother died when I was very young.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmured as he ran his fingers through her hair and smoothed away the tangles with painstaking patience. It felt wonderful, and she struggled to keep from sighing in sheer bliss.

“I was three when she passed away,” she continued, trying to keep her mind focused on the small talk he’d requested. “I have an older brother, Samuel. He runs Father’s company now. And my younger sister, Caroline, is married to an Army captain and lives in San Antonio. I’m on my way to visit her for a while.”

“How long has it been since you last saw your sister?”

“Goodness, five years or more. I haven’t seen her since David and I moved to Colorado.”

“He was sick for a long time?”

“For so long I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t.” It was true. She couldn’t remember the laughing young man she’d fallen in love with. He’d been replaced by the bitter, dying man who’d done his best to make her life as miserable as his own. “We were married for seven years, but he became sick after the first one.”

“You never had any children?”

She shook her head. “I wanted a baby, especially when I realized I was going to lose David. But it never happened. I think I’m barren.”

He trailed his hand down her arm and let it rest upon her belly. “You’re still young. Maybe it was him, not you.”

“Maybe,” she whispered, choking with despair over all the things she’d lost. “But what man would want me now? I’m almost thirty.”

“Closer to twenty-five, I’d guess. And I don’t know what man wouldn’t want you, Bethany. You’re so damn pretty I’m about to die from wanting you.” Her name was a gentle caress from his lips. He shifted, and she gasped as he pressed against her, showing her what he meant.

Sudden panic streaked through her, and she tried to move away, but he caught her easily, holding her as she struggled, his breath harsh and erratic in her ear. “Easy now. Don’t run away. I won’t hurt you. I would never do anything you didn’t want me to do.”

That was the problem, she realized as she stilled. She feared she wanted the same things he did. And no one would ever have to know. She’d never see him again, come morning.

For long moments, they remained frozen, locked in an intimate embrace, while crazy thoughts raced through her mind. He’d been in prison for years, she reminded herself. Years without a woman to hold or touch. Of course, he wanted her. He’d have wanted any woman in this situation.

But she wanted him, too. She wanted the freedom to run her hands across his beautiful, lean body. She wanted to touch a man who was strong and healthy, one who could bring her pleasure and respite from the sorrow and sickness that had become her life.

“Are you all right?” His voice was a rough whisper in her ear. “Do you want me to let you go? Because I will, if you want me to.”

And those words sealed her fate. He was stronger than her; she was entirely at his mercy. He didn’t have to ask; he could have taken. But because he’d offered her the choice, she chose him.

She shifted onto her back and stared up at him, hoping she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life. Still, she had to know one thing before she went any further. “Those men you killed—did you have a good reason?”

He gave her a long, searching look. “Do you consider vengeance a good reason?”

“Vengeance?” She cupped his cheek with her palm. “What happened to you?”

“I had a small homestead, nothing special except I owned the rights to the only good water source for miles around. A rancher tried to buy it from me, but I refused. He started sending hired guns to pressure me. They killed my stock, burned my outbuildings, and even threatened my life. I’d come through four years of hell, fighting in the war, and that little plot of land meant the world to me. I wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.”

He scrubbed his hand over his chin, tension riddling his lean frame. She sensed it had been a long time since he’d talked about this. This might be the first time he ever had.

“Go on,” she coaxed.

“I put off taking my cattle to market for as long as I could. But I needed the money, so I had to go. I thought they’d come after me and kill the rest of my stock on the trail, but I arrived without incident. I didn’t realize my mistake until I got home… I never thought they’d go after my family, but while I was gone, they raped and killed my wife, Hannah. They shot my little son, Jeremiah. They took everything I ever loved.” His voice trembled with emotion. “I went to the authorities, but no one would listen. The rancher owned the local sheriff. So… I took matters into my own hands.”

“Oh, Zach.” She ached for what he’d been through and couldn’t imagine the pain of knowing he’d failed to protect his family.

“It wasn’t enough to kill them once. I’d do it again if I had the chance. Even if it means burning in hell for all eternity.”

His words erased the last of her doubts. Deep down, she’d known he wasn’t a bad man. Anyone who could show her such kindness had to have been driven into darkness by forces beyond his control.

She buried her hands in his thick, silky hair and urged his head down toward hers. “Then kiss me. Make me forget the past. Make me forget everything except you and this moment.”