Lone Calder Star (Calder Saga 9)

Her lashes fluttered shut as his mouth moved over her lips, warm and exquisitely tender, yet full of aching need.

Thrilling to it, Dallas melted against him, a desire of her own clamoring within.

Her hands slid over the tapered firmness of the back she had longed to touch, exploring the complex roping of muscle and sinew. Then, and only then, did she feel the circling of his arms draw her more fully against him.

The kiss deepened seemingly of its own accord into something hot and wet and greedy. Everything swirled together, arching and straining, striving for something more. When his mouth rolled off hers to travel hungrily over her cheeks, eyes, and brow, Dallas pulled in a trembling breath that seemed to lodge somewhere in her throat.

“This is something I’ve wanted to do

,” Quint admitted, “almost from the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“What stopped you?” But Dallas knew she had, at least in the beginning. A man worth having needs encouragement, and she hadn’t shown him any, even though the attraction had been there from the start.

Quint raised his head, his fingers tunneling into her hair as his gaze wandered over her face in a kind of visual caress. “It didn’t seem fair to get you caught up in this battle with Rutledge.” He smiled crookedly. “Then you went and involved yourself anyway. I’ll never forget how you stormed out here that day.”

She remembered it, too—the fury, the frustration, and the anguish—but for an entirely different reason. “Why did you kiss me that day?” Needing to renew contact with him and shut out the fear, Dallas rubbed her lips over his chin, ignoring the scrape of his whiskers.

“I don’t know,” Quint murmured. “I guess I was hurt and mad. Anger was all I ever seemed to arouse in you, and I wanted exactly the opposite.”

“You definitely got your message across,” Dallas declared. “Coming out of nowhere like that, it scared me a little.”

It still did when she tried to think beyond this moment. But there would be time enough to consider what tomorrow might hold. It was enough to savor the here and now.

“I knew I’d scared you with that kiss. I—”

“Shhh.” She pressed two fingers to his lips. “None of that matters. Not now.”

Her lips were quick to take the place of her silencing fingers. His arms tightened around her as his mouth opened moistly on her lips, taking them whole.

Everything quickened and rose inside her, blood rushing hotly through her veins and all her senses sharply intensifying. The invasion of his tongue brought with it a bold sensuality and something else—a kind of keening sweetness that had its own brand of glory. Dallas arched closer to the hard length of his body, letting it burn its impression on her.

Desire and discovery reigned, making them both oblivious of the muffled slam of a door and the faint thud of footsteps across the porch. They were absorbed too much in each other and the power of what they shared.

On the porch, Boone cast a backward look at the charred remains of the round bales and the fire-scorched landscape that stretched beyond it. His glance lingered there. He derived a sense of satisfaction from knowing that it had been his hand that caused all this devastation.

He felt strangely empowered by the sight. It was there in the gleam of his eyes when he turned back to the door.

The screen door squeaked in protest when he opened it. As he lifted a hand to rap on the door, Boone automatically glanced through the windowed upper portion of the door. He paused at the sight of the pair, locked in an embrace that could only be described as passionate. The gleam in his eyes took on an interested glitter.

The voyeuristic side of him was tempted to watch, aware that, in Echohawk’s place, he would be tugging off the redhead’s clothes and spreading her across the kitchen table in another minute. Before his imagination reached the point where Echohawk plunged into her, irritation surfaced that he hadn’t suspected there was that much wildness beneath the Garner woman’s cool poise.

Boone rapped sharply on the door and watched them pull apart before giving the knob a turn. As he stepped inside, the two separated to face him. Echohawk’s expression instantly hardened at the sight of him while Dallas stared at him in open shock. Boone rather liked the glimmer of fear in her eyes.

Echohawk never gave him a chance to speak, demanding, “What are you doing here, Rutledge?”

“Max asked me to come.” Actually he had ordered him, but Boone wasn’t about to admit that. “We heard about your fire last night.” He let his glance stray over his shoulder to the door’s windowed top and the blackened area visible beyond the ranch yard. “It burned a big chunk of your range. Looks like it must have covered a good three or four hundred acres.”

“Closer to five,” Quint confirmed, his gaze never losing its steely look.

“That much?” Dallas murmured in surprise, slashing Quint a look of concern.

Boone ignored that, his curiosity shifting to something else. “What about your cattle? Did you suffer any losses there?”

“Considering the last fire crew pulled out less than twenty minutes ago, I haven’t had a chance to check on the stock. But all the gates were open. As long as they weren’t trapped against a fence, they should have been able to escape the flames.”

“You never know,” Boone said, deliberately countering Quint’s optimism. “Cows can be dumb creatures, especially when they panic. And a fire would cause that. As dry as it’s been around here, I’m surprised we haven’t had more fires. It wouldn’t take much of a spark to ignite one, and once it starts burning, it can spread rapidly.”

“It was no accidental spark that started this one.” The flat, hard statement teetered close to an accusation.