California Caress - Page 85

“Go away, gunslinger. Go back to Boston, back to Angelique. I don’t need you. I never have.” It was the biggest lie she had ever told in her life and it cut her to the quick to be telling it now. But she had no choice. She was foolish to think she could ever win Drake Frazier’s love. Fanciful and foolish, she knew that now.

“I’m not going anywhere without you, sunshine.” Gently, he reached out and touched her porcelain cheek. Her head snapped up. The moistness glistening in her eyes pulled at his heart and twisted painfully in his gut. “I told you once that, no matter where you went, I’d always find you. And I meant it. You can’t run from me, sunshine. You never could. You can’t lie to me, either.”

Her jaw trembled as she thrust her chin up proudly. Her arms were wrapped tightly, defensively, around her waist. “I’m not lying. I don’t need you.”

“And I still don’t believe you. I think you need me. In fact, I think you need me more than you’ve ever needed anything in your life.”

“Why you arrogant, egotistical, no-good—!”

Drake caught Hope's arm before the open palm could slice into his cheek. She cried out with frustration and tried again, but he wouldn’t let her go. With a flick of his wrist, he pulled her against him. One hand slipped behind her suddenly rigid back and in slow, languid motions he stroked her spine.

Hope had no choice but to relax against him. She didn’t want to, but she couldn’t seem to stop the instinctive reaction any more than she could have stopped the spark of desire his touch was kindling. She lifted her gaze to his, her large eyes sparkling with a confusion of unshed tears.

“Perfection doesn’t matter to me, sunshine,” he said, his voice a husky whisper. “It never has. Haven’t you figured that out yet?” His lips turned up in a slow, knowing smile. “A thousand Angeliques can’t add up to one feisty Hope Bennett.”

“But—”

His finger covered her lips, silencing her. It doesn’t matter to me,” he repeated, his tone thick with conviction. His hands moved to the front of his shirt and his fingers quickly began to slip free buttons.

Hope’s eyes widened. “What are you doing?” she cried, covering her mouth with trembling fingers as more and more sun-kissed flesh was revealed. Her cheeks grew warm and an undeniable quiver of anticipation rippled through her stomach.

“Comparing scars,” Drake answered flatly, as he slipped the shirt off his shoulders and tossed it onto a pile of twigs. “See this?” He pointed to a line of about four inches that curved down a firmly tapered bicep. She'd seen it many times before. “Hideous, isn’t it? And this?” he nodded to a smaller, crescent-shaped one on his taut stomach. Again, she'd seen it. “Absolutely disgusting. No woman should be asked to live with such ugliness. Oh, and I almost forgot the best one.”

His eyes twinkled as he pried off his boots, then reached for the buckle of his belt. Before Hope could stop him, Drake had unbuttoned the denims and let them drop to his ankles. He looked like an ancient Greek god as he kicked the pants away and turned his back. He acted like a hunting guide pointing out scenic bits of landscape as he indicated a well-healed hole up and to the left of his tailbone, then three more on the backs of his tantalizingly sinewy legs.

It didn’t matter, Hope never saw the scars. She was too busy ogling the superbly developed muscles of his naked hips and thighs.

“This isn’t funny,” she managed to say once she could breathe again. “I’m warning you, Frazier, if you’re trying to embarrass me, it won’t work.”

“What I’m trying to do is to make you see that the scar on your back bothers you a hell of a lot more than it ever bothered me. What does bother me is the way you let it drive a wedge between every relationship you have. You can’t live in the past forever. Painful things are going to happen. You can’t stop them, but you can control the way they affect you.” With a ragged sigh, he plucked off his hat, raked his fingers through the windblown golden mane, then settled it back on his head. “Good God, Hope, what do I have to do to make you understand? I love you, no matter how many—”

She gasped. “You what?”

“I said I love you, no matter how many scars you have on your body, or in your mind.”

Hope stared at him long and hard, her gaze searching for the lie, for the pity that she was sure would be closer to his true feelings. Shock surged through her when she couldn’t find those emotions in his eyes.

“You love me?” she asked stupidly. It felt like her whole body had started trembling furiously. Her heart soared. “You love me?”

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“Yes, I love you. What did you think—that I’d chase you around like a smitten dog, nurse you back to health after you were shot, drag you with me to Boston, then follow you way out here just because I thought you had a cute backside?”

Hope wanted to believe him. More than anything else in her life, she wanted to believe him. But she couldn’t. Not yet.

Stiffening, her lips formed the question her mind demanded an answer to. “What about Angelique?” she asked flatly. “I thought she was the big love of your life. Don’t you think she’ll be a little disappointed to find out you don’t share her affection?”

“Why the hell should I care?” Drake growled. His angry glare said he was not at all pleased with the course the conversation had taken. “I know what you think, Hope, and you have every right to think it. I realize I haven’t done much to convince you there is nothing going on between me and Angelique—for my own stupid reasons—but you have to believe me when I say that Angelique is a sneaking, conniving little bitch. I’ve known that for a long, long time now, and I can’t say I was sorry to see her and Charles go.”

“Go?” she echoed stupidly, her curiosity piqued as her heart raced.

“Yes, go. The last I saw of her and Charles, they were on a ship heading for San Francisco," he grinned, "the land of golden opportunity. I made sure my brother won’t be able to show his face in Boston again, at least not until he can pay back the debts he so stupidly incurred. Personally, I’d be happy never to set eyes on both their miserable faces again.”

“Y-you sent her away?” Hope asked breathlessly. Her heart skipped a beat, then pounded wildly. She was almost afraid to believe her ears.

“Of course I did,” Drake scoffed. Planting balled fists on his hips, he looked at her skeptically. “Did you think I’d want her around so she could come between us again? I’m not that foolish, Hope. I may make a mistake once, but I learn fast enough not to do the same thing twice. Not when I want something as badly as I want you. What are smiling at, sunshine?”

Hope couldn’t contain her grin. She’d never been so happy in her life. It took all of her self-control not to fling herself headlong into his arms. She bit the impulse back, but it wasn’t easy.

Tags: Rebecca Sinclair Historical
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