How West Was Won (Haven, Texas 7)

He snorted out a laugh. “Baby, if this were the Wild West there’s no way I’d be the hero. I’d most definitely be the villain. I’d kidnap the damsel in distress and I wouldn’t let her go.”

“Until she was safe, you mean,” she said. She needed things clear between them so she didn’t keep hoping.

“Maybe not even after that,” he muttered.

What did he mean by that? Before she could ask, he had her up in his arms. “Now, the reason I was yelling for you is because I went upstairs to check on you and you weren’t in bed, where you’re supposed to be.”

“West, I’m not an invalid. I’m not sick. It’s just a few bruises and they’re mostly healed.”

He paused, he looked down at her incredulously. “A few bruises? Baby, your arm is in a sling because your shoulder was dislocated. You have a broken finger. One side of your face is black and blue. A few bruises?” He shook his head as he started for the stairs.

“West, if I go back to bed, I’m going to go insane.”

“You can watch some TV.”

“I’m sick of watching TV. I hardly ever watch TV. I want to go see Beast.”

He walked into her bedroom and set her gently down on the bed. “Not happening.”

“West,” she complained. “I don’t need to go back to bed.”

He stood and placed his hands on his hips, looking down at her with a frown. “All right. You can go downstairs and sit with Mia. But you are to rest. You’re not going to help her do any of the cooking or cleaning. You’re not to leave the house. And don’t walk back upstairs without me.”

“Am I allowed to pee by myself?” she asked with a snarky grin.

He tilted his head to the side as though thinking about it, but she saw the teasing glint in his eye. “I will allow that.”

She shook her head. “You’re crazy, you know that, right? I shouldn’t give in to your demands, it will just make you worse.”

“You should always give in to my demands, because I’m always right.”

Yep, his arrogance was definitely out of control.

He set on her feet. She half-fell into him, graceful on her feet as always. He held her securely, placing an arm under her ass to lift her up against him. Her feet dangled in the air and she just stared up at him, feeling the magnetism of him pulling at her.

She tentatively wrapped her hand around the back of his neck. For a moment he held still, and she thought he was going to reject her. But then he lowered his mouth and took hers. And there was nothing soft about this kiss. This kiss was possessive and hard.

He laid her on the bed on her back, lying on his side next to her as he moved his mouth along her jaw and down her neck. His hand ran down her side then up under her T-shirt and cupped her breast. He ran his thumb over her nipple, and she arched up with a gasp. The feelings that raced through her stole her breath. She needed more, so much more.

He moved his mouth lower and then he drew up her T-shirt and he kissed along her tummy.

Oh, God. Oh, shit.

“West, please, yes.”

He yanked her T-shirt up higher, and she gasped at the sudden movement then groaned as her shoulder protested.

He stiffened then reared back. “Shit, did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m all right. Don’t stop.” Please, don’t stop.

“All right? You’re not fucking all right. You’ve got bruises covering your body, a broken finger, a dislocated shoulder and I fucking threw you on the bed.”

“You didn’t throw me on the bed,” she pointed out. “And you didn’t hurt me. It was just a shock.”

His eyes blazed. “Don’t lie to me, Flick. Never. That.” He stood. “I’ll go get you some painkillers and a heat pad. Then I’ve got some stuff to do. I’d appreciate it if you would take things easy. Please.” He turned and left the room, leaving her lying there gaping after him.

What the hell had just happened?