Backlash Tender Trap Aftermath - Lisa Jackson Page 0,104
gazed down at her, and regret darkened his gaze. “Oh, God—”
“Shh . . .” She pressed a finger to his lips and smiled, but he closed his eyes and clung to her, as if blocking out an image he couldn’t bear.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“You—you were a virgin.”
“Of course I was!” She held his face between her hands. “There’s no reason to be sorry.”
“Oh, God, Cass, there are a thousand reasons,” he whispered, levering himself on one elbow and gazing down on her.
His eyes moved over her slowly, and his expression turned pained, guilt-ridden. “This wasn’t the right time,” he muttered, his muscles still glistening with sweat.
“It was perfect.”
“That’s the trouble, Cassie. You see things the way you want to see them. I see them for what they are.”
“And what was this?” she asked, almost afraid to know.
“This . . .” He smiled wistfully for a second before he swallowed hard. “This was—a mistake.”
“No!”
“Cassie, you’re not ready for any of this.”
“I know what I want.”
“You couldn’t,” he said, looking up to the darkening sky as if searching for answers.
“Colton? Talk to me.”
He ran a hand through his still-wet hair, and his fingers trembled. “I-I think we’d better get dressed.”
“So soon?”
“For God’s sake, Cassie!” he exploded. “Think about it.” Muttering under his breath, he yanked his cutoffs on.
“I’m not ashamed.”
His head snapped up. “Good. You shouldn’t be,” he said quickly.
“Neither should you.”
He pinched his lips together. “Forget it.”
“Colton, it was beautiful! I love—”
“Don’t!” he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and biting the corner of his lip. “I care about you, Cass. Hell, you know that. But you’re so young.... I just think we should slow things down a little.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, crushed.
“That we’re moving much too fast.”
Reluctantly she stepped into her panties and tried not to cry. Tears formed in the corners of her eyes, but she forced them back. Maybe Colton didn’t love her now, right this minute, but he would! She knew it! Surely he couldn’t have touched her so intimately, caressed her skin so fondly, if he didn’t—
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” a strong, familiar voice demanded.
Cassie froze, grateful for the shadows cast by the trees.
Colton, lifting his head, scrambled to hide her from his brother’s incriminating gaze.
Astride a rangy bay gelding, Denver McLean glared down at them. His face was lined with disapproval, his brows drawing into one thick black line. “Have you lost your mind?” he demanded harshly.
Colton coiled, his muscles flexed as if he was about to leap up and drag his brother from the saddle. “I think you’d better leave!”
“So you can go back to bedding Ivan Aldridge’s daughter?” Denver sneered. “Not on your life.”
Cassie wanted to die! She struggled into her halter and shorts.
Standing, Colton snapped the closure of his cutoffs. “It’s none of your business!”
“No? And what happens if she turns up pregnant? What do you think her old man will say?”
“I swear, Denver, if you don’t leave . . .” Colton warned, still using his body to shield her.
“Come on. Take your best shot.” But Denver didn’t slide to the ground. He glanced at Cassie and sighed. “Hell, Colt, she’s only a child!”
“I’m seventeen,” Cassie insisted, her clothes finally intact even if her pride was shredded to ribbons.
“Sweet Mary! Seventeen?” Denver exclaimed, his furious gaze ricocheting back to Colton. “Ivan Aldridge will personally nail your hide to the wall!”
“That’s my problem,” Colton retorted, standing next to Cassie, one hand curved protectively around her waist.
“That’s everybody’s problem,” Denver pointed out. “There’s still a lot of bad blood between the two families. If Ivan finds out that you and his daughter are lovers, there’ll be hell to pay.”
“I’m warning you,” Colton ground out.
“It’s none of your business,” Cassie cut in, her temper flaring.
“Isn’t it?” Denver’s blue eyes glinted. “I hope to God that you’re old enough to protect yourself,” he said furiously. “I don’t know how your dad would feel about becoming a grandfather to a McLean.”
“Protect myself?” Cassie repeated.
“It hasn’t come to that, Denver,” Colton lied, his jaw tightening.
“But not far from it.”
Colton bristled. “I can handle myself.”
“Just use your head.”
“Oh, like you do whenever you’re around Tessa?”
Denver’s face became a mask of iron. “Leave Tessa out of this,” he warned in a low growl. “You’d better get back to the house. Dad wants to talk to you. And you, Cassie—”
“I’ll take care of her,” Colton bristled.
“If you haven’t already.” Yanking on the bay’s reins, Denver swore furiously. The horse twirled on his