Lawless Page 0,68
temple. "So you've simply found, and bought, another woman who suits you. Poor Carlotta. She must be devastated." "It would take a hell of a lot more than that. And I haven't bought anything in the Silver Star but whiskey since you-since I got back to town."
"Why?" She had to force even a whisper through her lips.
"That's my business." Cursing himself, he started out again, only to have her rush to stop him.
"I asked you a question."
"I gave you my answer." He scooped up her shawl and pushed it into her hands. "Now go to bed."
She tossed the filmy lace on the ground again. "I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you until you tell me why you haven't been with her, or anyone."
"Because I can't stop thinking about you." Enraged, he shoved her back against the wall with a force that had pins scattering and her hair tumbling wild and free to her waist. He wanted to frighten her, frighten her half as much as she frightened him. "You're not safe with me, Duchess." He leaned close to her, dragging a hand roughly through her hair. "Remember that."
She pressed her damp hands against the wall. It wasn't fear she felt. The emotion was strong and driving, but it wasn't fear. "You don't want me."
"Wanting you's eating holes in me." His free hand slid up to circle her neck. "I'd rather be shot than feel the way you make me feel."
"How do I make you feel?" she murmured.
"Reckless." It was true, but it wasn't everything. "And that's not smart, not for either of us. I'll hurt you." He squeezed lightly, trying to prove it to them both. "And I won't give a damn. So you better run while I still have a mind to let you."
"I'm not running." Even if she had wanted to, it would have been impossible. Her legs were weak and trembling. She was already out of breath. "But you are." Knowing exactly what she was doing, what she was risking, she raised her chin. "Threats come easily to you. If you were the kind of man you say you are, and you wanted me, you'd take me. Right here, right now."
His eyes darkened. They were almost black as they bored into hers. She didn't wince as his fingers tightened painfully in her hair. Instead, she kept her chin up and dared him.
"Damn you." He brought his mouth down hard on hers. To scare her, he told himself as he pressed her back against the wall and took his fill. To make her see once and for all what he was. Ruthless, knowing she would bruise, he dragged his hands over her. He touched her the way he would have touched a girl at the Silver Star. Boldly, carelessly. He wanted to bring her to tears, to make her sob and tremble and beg him to leave her alone.
Maybe then he would be able to.
He heard her muffled cry against his mouth and tried to pull back. Her arms circled him, drawing him in.
She gave, herself totally, unrestrainedly, to the embrace. He was trying to hurt her, she knew. But he couldn't. She would make him see that being in his arms would never cause her pain. She gasped, forced to grip him tighter to keep her balance, when his mouth roamed down her throat, spreading luxuriant heat. The scraping of his teeth against her skin had her moaning. Too aroused to be shocked by her own actions, she tugged at his shirt." She wanted to touch his skin again, wanted to feel the warmth of it. He was losing himself in her. No, he was already lost. Her scent, the fragility of it, had his senses spinning.
Her mouth, the hunger of it, clawed at his control. Then she said his name-it was a sigh, a prayer- and broke the last bonds.
He pulled her down into the hay, desperate for her. The silk of her dress rustled against his hands as he dragged it from her shoulders. A wildness was on him, peeling away right and wrong as he tore the silk away to find her.
Terror rose up to grab her by the throat. But it wasn't terror of him. It was terror of the need that had taken possession of her. It ruled her, drove her beyond what could and could not be. As ruthless as he, she ripped at his shirt.
He was yanking at her laces, cursing them, cursing himself. Impatient with encumbrances, he shrugged