Page 33 of Texas Honor
She remembered him saying that the only women he cared about where those two. “What is your sister like?” she asked.
He grinned. “Like Grandmother and me. She’s another hardheaded Jessup.”
“Does she look like you?” she asked curiously.
“Not a lot. Same green eyes, but she’s prettier, and we’re built differently.”
She glared at him. “I do realize that.”
“No. She’s small. Petite,” he clarified. “I suppose I take after my father. He was a big man.”
“An oilman?”
He nodded. “Always looking for that big strike.” His eyes suddenly had a faraway look. “Right out there is where we found him, in that grove of trees.” He gestured to the horizon. “Hell of a shock. There was hardly a mark on him. He looked like he was asleep.”
“I’m sorry.”
“It was a long time ago.” He turned his horse, leaving her to follow where the trail led down to the river and a grove of trees. He dismounted, tying his horse to a small tree growing on a grassy knoll. He helped Mari down and tied hers nearby.
“Funny, I never thought of Texas being like this,” she mused as she watched the shallow river run over the rocks and listened to its serene bubbling. “It’s so bare except for occasional stands of timber. Along the streams, of course, there are more trees. But it’s not at all what I expected. It’s so...big.”
“Georgia doesn’t look like this?” he asked.
She watched him stretch out on the leaves under a big live oak tree, his body relaxed as he studied her. “Not a lot, no. We don’t have mesquite trees,” she said. “Although around Savannah we do have huge live oaks like these. Near Atlanta we have lots of dogwoods and maples and pines, but there’s not so much open land. There are always trees on the horizon, except in south Georgia. I guess southwest Georgia is a lot like here. I’ve even seen prickly pear cactus growing there, and there are diamondback rattlers in that part of the state. I had a great aunt there when I was a child. I still remember visiting her.”
He drew up a knee and crossed his arms, leaning back against the tree. “Homesick yet?”
“Not really,” she confessed shyly. “I always wanted to visit a real ranch. I guess I got my wish.” She turned. “Do you think Aunt Lillian will be all right now?”
“Yes, I do.” He laughed. “She’s having a hell of a good time with us. You haven’t told her that we know the truth about each other?”
“No,” she said. “I didn’t want to disappoint her. But we really ought to tell her.”
“Not yet.” He let his darkening eyes run down her body, and his blood began to run hot. “Come here.”
She gnawed her lower lip. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she began half convincingly.
“Like hell you don’t,” he returned. “You didn’t sleep last night any more than I did, and I’ll bet your heart is doing the same tango mine is.”
It was, but she was apprehensive. Last night it had been so difficult to stop.
“You want me, Marianne,” he said under his breath. “And God knows, I want you. We’re alone. No prying eyes. No one to see or hear what we do together. Make love with me.”
Her mind kept saying no. So why did her legs carry her to him? She couldn’t hear reason through the wild slamming of her heart at her throat. She needed him like water in the desert, like warmth in the cold.
He opened his arms, and she went down into them. Coming home. Feeling his big body warm and close to hers, his arms protecting, his eyes possessive.
He rolled over, taking her with him until she was lying on her back under the shade of the big tree with its soft green leaves blowing in the warm breeze.
As she watched, his hand went to his shirt. He flicked open the buttons until his chest was bare, and then his hand went to the hem of her blouse. She caught his wrist, but it didn’t even slow him down. He slid his hand under it and around to the back, easily undoing the catch of her bra.
“Why bother with that thing?” he whispered, sliding his hand around to tease the side of her breast. “It just gets in my way.”
Her body trembled at the lazy brushing of his fingers. “Why can’t I fight you?” she whispered huskily.
“Because what we give each other defies reason,” he whispered. He looked down at her mouth as his fingers brushed closer and closer to the hard, aching tip of her breast. “Little virgin, you excite me beyond bearing, do you know that? I can feel what this does to you. Here...”
His forefinger touched the hard tip and she gasped, shuddering under him, her eyes huge and frightened.