She couldn’t face him right now. She felt confused when she was near Jake—her body growing more and more uncomfortable in his presence. Every sense heightened when he came near. His scent, masculine and forbidden, tantalized her. The drawling sound of his voice was like a caress over her skin. Maybe it had happened so gradually she hadn’t been aware of her attraction to him, but she’d lived comfortably with him for two years, and to her it seemed as if, all of a sudden, when he was near, her body reacted by coming alive. And when he was gone, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
She hurried across the driveway, running down the path to the stables. What a mess they would all be in if she made the mistake of allowing him to know she was sexually attracted to him. Kyle called her Mommy, believed she was his mother, and for all intents and purposes she was. She loved him as if he were her flesh and blood. Kyle and Andraya loved each other as brother and sister. And Jake was equally wonderful to both of them. And she loved Jake. Really loved him. She had loved him long before she was attracted sexually. And falling for him that way would only ruin everything.
Emma laughed softly to herself, remembering Jake getting up night after night to help her with Kyle, to change wet diapers and feed him. Now, with Andraya, he still got up, even if Kyle stayed asleep. When he was home, he fixed her tea or chocolate and sat with her while she rocked the baby to sleep. He never seemed to actually go to bed, spending most nights in her room. Sometimes he stretched out on the bed beside her, and those nights had become a kind of private hell. She wanted him there, yet the temptation of his body was becoming dangerous.
He would have had sex with her. He was nearly always hard, always ready. It wasn’t that difficult to see the impressive bulge in the front of his jeans, and he never bothered to hide it or appeared embarrassed or ashamed. But she didn’t want to become one of his women. He treated them with total indifference, contempt even, and she couldn’t live with that.
Emma caught up a bridle, running a practiced eye over the horses standing patiently in the stalls. She wanted one with stored-up, restless energy. Maybe if she took a long ride, she would be able to calm her body down and figure out why she was so restless and edgy and desperate for a man’s body. Not just any man—Jake.
“Emma.” A quiet, menacing voice made her stiffen. Powerful fingers bit into her shoulder, spinning her around. “What the hell’s going on here?” Jake demanded. Diamond-hard eyes raked her pale features, noting the shadows lurking in her dark eyes, dwelling on the pulse beating frantically in her throat, touching on her soft, trembling mouth.
The sight of him always robbed her of breath. Jake was formidable, overpowering, dangerous. A rock for all of them, yet he moved silently, like a cat in the night. “I’m going riding, Jake,” she answered, straining to keep her voice even. She loved looking at him, all that flowing power, the swift impatience, the way the corners of his eyes crinkled right before he smiled. But he could be very overwhelming when he chose to be intimidating—as he was doing now.
He swore, pulling her soft body right up against his tough, well-muscled one. He had a day’s growth of beard, and up this close she could smell his outdoorsy, masculine scent. “Like hell you are. I haven’t seen you in two long weeks. What’s up?”
With an effort, Emma managed a faint smile. “Nothing, Jake. I was shirking duties, that’s all. How was your trip?”
Swift annoyance spread across his sensual features. She could feel the tension in his large frame. “Come on,” he snapped impatiently, whirling around, taking her with him. “If we’re going to spar, we may as well be comfortable.”
He moved with the lithe, flowing grace of a prowling jungle cat, power and coordination combined. Emma, with her shorter legs, was forced to run to match his lazy, long stride. He glanced down at her bent head, his eyes a glittering gold, and deliberately slowed his pace to accommodate her. Casually retaining possession of her arm, he dropped his flat-brimmed hat on a chair as they went through the family room.
“Was that Susan Hindman I saw upstairs?” he demanded abruptly, releasing her as they entered the kitchen. “She was peeking over the banister and making eyes at me.”
Emma nodded, rubbing absently at the marks of his fingers on her arm. “She’s staying with us while her father’s away in London. He asked me right after you left. I didn’t think you’d object. Her governess, Dana Anderson, brought her along with a gentleman they said was her tutor, a Harold Givens.” Jake didn’t like strangers on the ranch.
“What’s she been saying to you?” Jake’s handsome features were set and hard. He looked very formidable. Even so, he reached out to take her arm in the palm of his hand, his touch gentle as he examined her skin for finger marks. The pads of his fingers stroked caresses over the marks, his touch lingering, sending tingles of arousal along her nerve endings to spread through her body.
She pulled her hand away because he looked as if he might kiss her better, and her pulse began to hammer hard, first in her throat, then in her breasts, and finally in her most feminine core. Color swept up her neck. It was so humiliating to be out of control of her body when it had never happened before. He couldn’t know. She couldn’t give herself away to his sharp, probing gaze.
“Sorry, you have such fair skin, honey. I always forget that. What did Susan have to say?” he persisted.
She shrugged lightly, ignoring the strange sensations his nearness produced in her. “Only girl talk.” She kept her voice even but his touch had disturbed her so much she couldn’t meet his gaze.
He sighed, his golden eyes never leaving her face. “God, I’m tired. It’s been a long two weeks. You have any coffee made?”
She flashed him a quick smile. “Of course, you know I do. Want to eat?” She handed him a steaming mug. He did look tired, his hair tousled and unruly, just the way she liked it best.
He shook his head. “Coffee’s great. I’ve been dreaming about your coffee. Where are the little monsters?”
“Upstairs playing. I’m surprised they’re not down here already. They must not have heard you come in.” She watched him toss his coat aside and sink into one of the kitchen chairs. Without conscious thought, Emma reached out and pushed an unruly lock of hair from his forehead.
He tilted the chair, golden eyes on the pulse beating at the hollow of her throat. She moved with a curious, delicately feminine retreat. A crooked smile touched his mouth. He deliberately allowed his eyes a lazy exploration of her soft, curving body. “Have the kids been good?”
“They’re always good, although they missed you, if that’s what you’re asking.” Emma poured herself a cup of coffee and leaned against the sink, a small but relatively safe distance from him.
“And what about you? Did you miss me?” His voice was a soft whisper, like fingers skimming along her skin.
Faint color stole into her face. She loved the sound of his voice. “Of course I missed you. I always miss you.” And she did, as arrogant and bossy as he was. “I was hoping you’d come home today.”
“Why today?” He took another sip of coffee with an appreciative smile. “This is better than gold. I really miss your coffee when I’m away.”
“It’s your birthday.”
Jake narrowed his eyes, sitting up straighter, watching Emma cross the room to the overhead cupboards. She had to reach high, stand on her toes, but she managed to pull a large, flat package down. He tried not to react, to stiffen, to get up and walk out. It was a birthday present, no big deal, and he couldn’t very well tell her he didn’t want it, wouldn’t know what to do with it. Little kindnesses were too hard to accept. She had a look on her face that was a birthday present in itself, and more than he could ever want.
Emma had made his house a home. She always went that extra mile, always showing him in so many ways that he mattered to her. Like now. He set his coffee mug on the table, afraid his hands might tremble and give him away. He should have realized she would remember from two years earlier when she’d been in the hospital and he’d told her. She’d been barely conscious of anything, grieving and frightened, yet she remembered a trivial detail like his birthday.
She had insisted on celebrating Kyle’s birthdays, but that was different—far different with the spotlight on him. He stood up, the leopard in him restless at his sudden edgy mood swing—at the adrenaline surging through his veins.