Brazen (Brazen 1)

He took several steadying breaths while he tried to process his options. He yanked his cell phone out of his pocket even as he ran for the shed that housed the four wheelers. Knowing Jasmine, she wouldn’t have stuck to the roads, and he’d need the ATV to find her.

He punched in J.T.’s number as he straddled the four wheeler.

“J.T.,” he said, not waiting for the other man to respond. “Jasmine’s missing. She might be hurt. I could use your help down at the ranch. Esme came in alone. I think she may have thrown Jasmine. Zane’s in San Antonio so I’m here by myself.”

“I’ll be right out,” J.T. said grimly.

Seth hung up and fired up the ATV before roaring out of the shed and through the back gate. He crisscrossed the acreage, his eyes keenly attuned to every hill and scrape.

The sun beat mercilessly down and the hot wind blew over his face as he pressed the ATV to its limits. But he saw no sign of Jasmine.

An hour later, he paused to call J.T. to see where he was. He and another deputy were searching the eastern quadrant in places Jasmine might have ridden Esme. So far they’d come up as empty as he had.

He started off again, frustration beating incessantly at his temples. This was no place to get thrown from a horse. She could die of heat exhaustion in just a few hours’ time.

He topped another hill and stared out across the creek that cut across the terrain. He was about to drive down into the bed when his gaze caught a flash of color a quarter of a mile away.

He gunned the engine and tore off at a breakneck pace. As he neared, he could see it was Jasmine lying on the ground. Sickening fear gripped him as he saw she was unmoving, her eyes closed.

He jumped off the four wheeler and ran to her. He sank to his knees and gently touched her face. “Jasmine. Jasmine, honey, can you hear me?”

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she smiled crookedly at him around cracked, dry lips. “I knew you’d come.” Her face was pink from too much sun, and her green eyes were dull with pain. Dirt and grime accumulated in her hair and streaked her cheeks.

He reached out to touch her, wanting reassurance that she was okay. He closed his eyes as relief poured over him like cool, sweet spring water. “God, baby, you scared the shit out of me,” he said hoarsely. “Are you all right? What happened and where do you hurt?”

“I tried to make it back,” she said in a strained voice. “But my head and my ankle hurt like hell, so I laid down as much out of the sun as I could and waited for you.”

That kind of faith humbled him and terrified him all at one time. “Did Esme throw you?”

“My fault,” she mumbled. “Wasn’t paying attention.”

He gently gathered her in his arms and slowly got to his feet. He cursed when she winced against him. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She shook her head against him. “I’m fine. Really. I didn’t mean to make you worry. Was my own stupid fault.”

He eased onto the four wheeler and cradled her against his chest. He was going to have to be damn careful driving back and carrying her this way.

Before he started the engine, he shifted Jasmine in his arms and pulled out his phone to call J.T.

“I found her,” he said when J.T. answered.

“Thank God. Is she okay? Do I need to have an ambulance waiting?”

Seth glanced down at Jasmine’s closed eyes, her head nestled trustingly against his shoulder.

“No, I don’t think she needs one.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you back at the house.”

Seth slid the phone back into his pocket then tightened his grip on Jasmine as he keyed the ignition. He headed back to the ranch, a lot slower than he’d come. He tried to absorb each bump and jostle, and he cringed each time her fingers dug tighter into his side.

When they rode past the gate, Carmen ran from the house along with J.T. and his deputy. J.T. reached for Jasmine so Seth could get off without jarring her further.

“Are you sure she doesn’t need an ambulance?” J.T. asked doubtfully as Seth reached for her again.

“I’m fine, J.T.,” Jasmine said in a weary voice. “I swear all I need is a hot shower and something for my headache.”

“I need to look at your ankle too,” Seth said as he carried her toward the house.

Carmen walked in behind him, clucking and fussing like an overwrought mother hen. Seth carried Jasmine up the stairs to her bedroom just as he had after the pool incident. Only this time, for some reason, she felt stronger. Not as breakable and fragile. Strange since this time she’d actually sustained a physical injury. Maybe his perception of her was changing.

“I started your shower,” Carmen said as she rushed from Jasmine’s bathroom.

“I think I want a bath,” Jasmine said slowly.

Carmen looked at her in surprise and then smiled. “I’ll go start a bath then.”

“Put me down, Seth,” Jasmine said quietly. “I can get myself into the tub.”

He eased her down to her feet, holding her shoulder as he backed away slightly. She stepped forward, and her knees buckled. She let out a gasp of pain as her foot took the brunt of her weight, and she wavered precariously.

Seth swore and hauled her back into his arms. When she opened her mouth, he cut her off. “Don’t argue with me. I’ll get you into and out of the tub.”

He felt her sag against him in defeat, and he strode over to her bed to lay her down. He tried to approach undressing her in a distant, medical fashion, as if she was merely someone he was concerned about, but the minute he uncovered her creamy skin, all thoughts of distance fled.

He clenched his jaw and tried to think of something, anything other than her soft curves he was fast uncovering. He concentrated instead on her ankle and examining her for other injuries.

When he touched the swollen skin above her heel, she hissed in pain. Without thinking, he leaned down to kiss the area. “I’m sorry, honey. I don’t think it’s broken, but you’re going to have a devil of a time walking on it for a day or two.”

She sighed but said nothing. When he looked up, he saw her green eyes glittering as she looked at him. There was a swirl of delicate patterns. Confusion. Hurt. Need. He was well-acquainted with the need. He wished he could be what she needed. All she needed.

Where the hell had that come from anyway? He shook his head. In an attempt to get his head on straight, he stood and bent to pick her up, intent on getting her into the bathtub.

He was too abrupt in his movements, and a small whimper escaped. His gaze flew to her face to see the strain around her eyes. Her mouth was compressed tight as if she hadn’t wanted him to hear her cry out.

“God, it seems I’m always apologizing for hurting you,” he said in self derision.

He walked into the bathroom to see the water still running into the large garden tub. He lowered her into the steaming water. Her small, pink-tipped br**sts slowly disappeared from view. They bobbed a bit in the water, and the swell was still evident over the rise of the water. It was a torturous sight for him. He wanted to touch her, lean down and run his tongue over that tempting strip of pale flesh, draw the puckered nipple into his mouth.

“Are you okay with this?” he asked. She never took baths, and he wasn’t sure that day she’d jumped in the pool had completely cured her of her fears.

She let out a moan that sounded like a mix of pleasure and pain as she rested her head against the back of the tub. “I’m okay. Enjoying it too much to panic.”

He frowned as he saw a bruise already forming at her hairline. He reached up to touch it then traced a path back further into her hair and saw a bloody cut.

“You probably need stitches. I should have taken you straight to the hospital,” he said in a near growl.

She opened her eyes and focused her stare on him. “Seth, I’m okay. Really. No blurred vision. No nausea. I only lost consciousness for a bit.”

He swore again. “The fact that you lost consciousness at all is a damn good reason for you to be in the hospital. How do you know how long you were out? You never wear a damn watch, and I doubt you’d have noticed what time it was on your way off the horse.” The sarcasm crept into his voice despite his desire not to upset her.

She smiled then winced at what the action cost her. “It wasn’t long. I just got the breath knocked out of me. I didn’t push myself too hard trying to get back. I don’t want to go to the hospital. I’d rather stay here with you.”

Her words balanced delicately between them. Stood as a barrier. He wanted her here with him as well, and that was a huge problem. He reached up to turn off the water and stood awkwardly.

“I’ll be in your room. When you’re done, holler. I’ll come get you.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and got out as quickly as he could, not caring that he was running like a coward.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jasmine closed her eyes again and sank lower into the tub. She would sigh, but it would hurt too damn much. She felt like one giant bruise, and she was so tired she could feel exhaustion beating at her, beating her down.

She wanted him to hold her again. She’d stay in the tub for a long while, until the water cooled, but she knew the longer she made him wait, the more likely it would be that he’d run as far away from her as he could. And no matter that she’d forced herself to once again confront her fears, she still felt uneasy in the water.

So she soaked a few more minutes and then called out to him. He appeared seconds later, his expression controlled. As he came to the edge of the tub, he frowned.

“Aren’t you going to wash your hair and that cut?”

“I’m not sure I can,” she replied honestly. It wasn’t a blatant play for his attention. She wanted to be in his arms, but she wasn’t playing flirty little games with him. She wasn’t sure she could lift her arms, much less undertake the arduous task of washing her hair.

His expression softened as he knelt by the tub. “Turn around,” he said. “Scoot up and lean back so I can wet your hair.”

She hesitated for a fraction of a second before she did as he said. The water swirled and sucked at her body as she positioned herself so he could better reach her hair. She folded her knees to her chest and inched forward. She nearly moaned in pleasure when his warm hands folded over her shoulders and guided her back so that she was reclined in the water. She swallowed some of her nervousness as the water worked higher over her body.

He held her with one hand and pulled his other hand through her hair until all the strands were soaked. “Okay, sit up, baby.”

He pushed gently until she was once again sitting upright. She heard the squeegee-like sound of him squirting shampoo into his hand, and then he dug his fingers into her scalp.

She let her eyes flutter shut and leaned back into his touch. He massaged and lathered, working the soap into her hair. With each rub, she relaxed more. She didn’t even flinch when he carefully worked around her cut.

“Like that?”

“Mmm hmm.”

It was over too soon and he began to rinse her hair. She let out a small sound of disappointment when he signaled he was finished.

“Stay where you are,” he ordered when she started to lift herself out of the tub. He plunged his arms deeper into the water and curled them underneath her knees.

With seemingly no effort, he lifted her out of the water. It streamed down her body and pelted the floor. He paused only to wrap a towel around her body and then one around her hair before he carried her into the bedroom.

He set her on the bed and pulled the covers down. “You want a T-shirt?”

She should say yes and make it easier for him, but why should it be so easy for him when it was so hard for her? She shook her head.

“Let me look at that cut now that it’s clean,” he said before she could shed her towel and climb underneath the covers.

He reached for the towel covering her head and pulled it away. He rubbed the cloth over her hair, ruffling it in an effort to dry it as much as he could. After a bit, he tossed it aside and put his hand back to her head. She sat still while he thumbed a part in her hair so he could view the wound.

“Am I hurting you?” he asked.

“No,” she whispered. Though it wasn’t entirely true. She couldn’t stand this stiffness between them. He alternated between hot and cold, soft and hard with her. As if he couldn’t make up his mind whether to love her or despise her. She was tired of feeling like a coin flip.

“It doesn’t look bad. I’d feel better if a doctor looked at it, but I think it’ll be okay.”

She nodded slowly. Then she looked up at him and wondered at the picture they made. Him standing above her on the bed. Her sitting with just a towel wrapped around her, her heart in her eyes.

As if drawn to the image in her head, he lowered his hand until he cupped her chin. His thumb rubbed across her cheek in a sensuous line. She stared unflinchingly at him, not caring if she was broadcasting her need. She wasn’t ashamed.

His head moved closer. She inched hers higher. His hand slipped away. His lips were just inches from her.

He stood to his full height, and she slumped in disappointment. “You should rest,” he said gruffly.

“I’m not tired.” And it was true. The exhaustion that had permeated her every pore just moments earlier had now washed away. Every nerve was standing on end, her awareness of him a living, breathing thing. “Stay with me. Please?”

Rife indecision carved lines across his face. At his sides, his fingers curled back and forth into fists, betraying his unease. When had things gotten so unbearable between them?

Just when she was convinced he’d say no and beat a hasty retreat from her room, he let out a small sound of defeat and sat down on the bed next to her.