Blackwolf's Redemption

“The thing is—see, the thing is, it’s 2010.”

His eyebrows rose. “I don’t get it. Twenty-ten what?”

“The year. My year.”

“Your year for what?” he said with a puzzled smile.

Sienna closed her eyes, then blinked them open. “Actually—actually, I think we should talk about this another time.”

“Sienna—”

“I’m tired and confused, Jesse. All I want to do is sleep.”

What he wanted were answers, but he knew now wasn’t the time to get them, so he smiled and told her that was a great idea.

“You can sleep here. It’s going to take time for the house to warm up, but you’ll be all right by the fire. Okay?”

“What about you?”

“I’ll take the bedroom.”

“You’ll be cold.”

“Foolish woman. Indian brave no feel cold.”

She laughed. Actually laughed. He flashed an answering grin when what he wanted was to pump his fist in the air.

“Okay,” he said briskly, “you settle down here. I’ll be right down the hall. Just call me if—”

“Don’t go.” The words came out on one swift breath. “Stay with me, Jesse. Please. Just hold me, that’s all. Can you do that?”

Hell, no. He was a man, not a saint.

“Never mind,” she said quickly. “Why would you want to? It was a crazy request. You go ahead. I’ll be—”

Jesse put a finger under her chin. Tilted her face to his. Brushed his lips softly over hers. Then he knelt on the bed of blankets and offered Sienna his hand, the same way he had hours before on the sacred stone.

But it wasn’t the same. This time, instead of hesitating, she put her palm against his.

He drew her down beside him. Lay back, curved his arm around her. And when she yawned softly and lay her head on his shoulder, her hand over his heart, he knew that this, just this, was somehow as meaningful as what they’d been doing before the damned lights came on.

She was asleep in seconds. No nightmares for her now, he thought as he pressed a light kiss to her hair.

And none for him.

For the first time in months, Jesse Blackwolf fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

CHAPTER EIGHT

JESSE came awake the same way he always did, mind and body alert and ready for whatever might be waiting for him—but with one huge difference.

He’d slept straight through the night, something he hadn’t done since before ’Nam. Instead of impenetrable darkness, the living room was filled with sunlight pouring from a brilliantly blue sky.

And he’d slept the night with a woman in his arms.

Not just a woman.

Sienna.

A soft, warm Sienna, still lying in his embrace, her head against his shoulder. He drew her even closer, turned his head so her silken hair brushed his chin.

It felt wonderful to have her tucked against him this way. Was she the reason he had not awakened every hour, as he’d done for so long it had started to seem normal?

No. Of course not.

That he’d slept through the night was just a quirk. Or maybe, with luck, his sleep pattern was finally starting to change. Whatever the reason, it surely didn’t have a thing to do with the stranger in his arms.

Of course it didn’t.

Jesse shifted his weight a little, just enough so he could get a better look at her. Amazing. He still wasn’t sure why she’d turned up in the canyon yesterday, but whatever the reason, she’d had one hell of a day. And, okay, maybe he hadn’t made things any easier.

Bottom line, she’d been through a lot—so how could she look so beautiful, even under the merciless glare of the morning sun?

Her hair was a cloud of gold, brown and bronze curls, her lashes a dark sweep against her cheeks. Her lips were slightly parted, her breath warm against his naked flesh.

If he angled his head a little, he could lean down and kiss those lips.

He could do more than that.

Damned right, he could.

His reaction was swift and entirely male, an erection so rock-hard it was close to painful, accompanied by a burst of images in his head, starting with him kissing her awake. Caressing her. Cupping her breasts, bringing them to his lips, looking up as her violet eyes turned deepest blue.

Jesse, she’d sigh, and this time, instead of letting his hunger take over, he’d keep himself under control.

Hey, control was his thing. Control had saved his ass in ’Nam; his men had called him the Iceman. It was what Linda had taken to calling him, too, though she hadn’t meant it as a compliment.

You never let go, Jesse, she’d said, and she was probably right, he never did, but if a man let go, he might never find his way back to himself….

Jesse slid his arm from under Sienna’s shoulders, folded his arms beneath his head and stared blindly at the ceiling.