Mr. Taken Page 9

  He unclasped his seat belt, and leaning over their hands, he reached up and cupped her face. “When it comes to you, no distance is too much. I would travel across the world to be near you.”

  She leaned into his hands and closed her eyes. Her cheek was cool in his palm, and her skin was as soft as silk as he ran his thumb over the roundness of her cheek. He stared at her with her eyes closed, taking in the way her breathing slowed as she touched him, and the gentle curve of the tip of her nose. She was so beautiful. She had been the woman who had always come to him in his dreams, and he’d never known it until now.

  He wanted to kiss her, but he simply watched her breathe, living in this moment as long as he could. As she gently opened her eyes and batted her eyelashes, she gave him a tiny smile.

  “I don’t know why, or how you feel the way you do...but I’m the luckiest girl in the world.” She bridged the gap between them on the seat and climbed onto his lap.

  He was taken aback by her as she straddled her legs around him. Leaning in, she took his face in her hands and looked him in the eye. “Whatever happens tonight, we’re going to stay just friends. Okay?”

  That was the last thing he wanted, but he knew if he didn’t agree she would move away. He couldn’t make that sacrifice. He had waited so long to have her like this...this willing and open.

  “You agree?” she pressed.

  He opened his mouth to say something teasing and noncommittal, but he couldn’t find any words, so he finally just nodded.

  She moved over him, rocking her hips. “No talk of relationships...and definitely not love. Love only makes things that much harder.”

  As the last word rolled off her lips, she leaned in and brushed her lips against his, making his body stir with the warmth of her breath and the unmasked lust of her words. He reached up and took hold of her hips, drawing her down onto him to let her feel what she was doing to him. If she wanted things harder, she needn’t look any further.

  She sucked in a breath, making the warmth of her kiss on his lips disappear. The loss was unacceptable and he took her mouth with his, flicking his tongue against her lower lip. He wanted to taste her...all of her. Yet she was in the driver’s seat.

  He chuckled at the thought.

  She leaned back. “What?” she said, eyeing him with suspicion.

  “Nothing,” he said, his voice hoarse with want. “I just was thinking that maybe we shouldn’t be doing this in front of the convenience store. You know, they have cameras.” He pointed toward the tan camera that was pointed directly toward them. “In fact, I bet there’s someone inside watching us right now.”

  She gave him an impish smile. “You want to give them a real show?”

  Just when he thought he couldn’t get any harder, she reached up and slowly unzipped her jacket.

  “What do you think, Colter?” She let the coat slip from her shoulders, revealing her white sweater underneath. As she said his name, it was almost like it was coated with honey, sticky and sweet and full of the lifeblood of summer—a promise of life in the dead of winter.

  “Anything you want, Whit... I’m yours,” he said, reaching up and pushing a wayward piece of hair behind her ear.

  He doubted the camera was in use anyway. In a place like this, half the time the cameras were only for show. And in this moment, it was a risk he was willing to take.

  Whitney slipped the coat from her and threw it onto the seat next to him. She turned and adjusted the volume on the radio and found a country station. “Tennessee Whiskey” was playing and her body moved with each heady beat. He’d always loved that song, but now...now it would be unforgettable.

  She put her mouth against his earlobe and sucked as she reached down and unbuttoned his pants. Her hand was cool as she slipped it inside his jeans, and he gasped when she ran her fingers down his length. He tried to throw his head back with ecstasy, but her teeth grazed the skin of his earlobe, reminding him of who was really in control. Not that he needed a reminder. She could have as much control as she wanted...and he’d love every second of it.

  He reached up under her sweater and felt the rough edges of lace as he skimmed over her bra. It made him ache for her even more. She stopped stroking him and pulled her sweater up and over her head and dropped it on top of her coat.

  Seeing was even better than feeling. The lace was pink and it made him wonder if it was the same shade as her nipples. She shifted on him, and he moaned as his body shook with life. He ran his hands over her soft cream skin, taking in the lines of her waist and running his fingers under the waistline of her jeans. He slipped the button open.

  Flipping back the edges of her pants, he found that the underwear matched. Either she was meticulous and the kind that planned out her outfit down to every little detail, or she had planned ahead. He liked the thought of her thinking about them like this, skating over the fine line between friends and into the realm of lovers.

  He ran his hands up her sides. She was covered in goose bumps, but he wasn’t sure if it was the chill of the winter that managed to penetrate the cab of the truck, or his touch, so he reached over and turned up the heat. To him, it already felt like a sauna, but he was sure that it had nothing to do with the temperature of the air around him, but rather everything to do with the heat of her touch.

  He unclasped the hooks of her bra. She slowly let the straps drift down her arms, the pink lace bra teasing him as it trembled when she took the cups into her hands. Holding the bra in place, she slipped her arms out of the straps.

  He longed to see her, to feel her naked body against him. To take her nipples into his mouth and taste her. He wanted it all, everything she had to offer.

  He took her lips in his, letting her feel the need in his kiss and how badly he wanted this. Her. Now.

  There was a rap on the driver’s-side window.

  “Oh, my God,” Whitney said as she jumped off him, grabbed her sweater and pulled it over her head. “No. No. No.”

  Colter turned and wiped away the bit of condensation that had accumulated over the window. Standing beside the truck, in his full deputy uniform, was his brother Wyatt.

  As he looked in, he smiled.

  Behind him, sitting in an old beat-up blue Ford, was a man. His windows were frosted, but Colter could make out his greasy, long dark hair, bordering on black, and his weathered hands on the steering wheel. On the man’s dashboard was a wooden bat.

  Colter forced himself to look away from the man as he rolled down the window. The cold wind stole the warmth that his and Whitney’s bodies had created. He cleared his throat and ran his hand over his hair, more out of instinct than the need to make sure everything was in place. “Yeah?” he asked, trying to sound far more innocent than he was feeling.

  Wyatt leaned down and smiled at Whitney, who was slipping her jacket back on like nothing had happened. “You two having fun?” he asked, with a chuckle.

  “We were until you showed up,” Colter said, but he wasn’t sure if he should admit anything or play dumb for Whitney’s honor. He had never been the kind to kiss and tell, but he could hardly deny what they had been doing—and what more he had hoped for.

  “I’m glad you were, but you do realize that you are being filmed.” He pointed at the camera. “And even here, in Mystery, we have public indecency and exposure laws. And I was made to understand that the clerk, while he loves a good show, wasn’t impressed.”

  “I doubt that,” Colter said. “I’d bet my bottom dollar that the guy was just jealous.”

  “Be that as it may...” Wyatt said, smiling.

  Colter raised his hands in surrender. “Won’t happen again.” As the words escaped him, he heard the mistaken finality, and as he glanced over at Whitney, she nodded. The smile she had been wearing disappeared, and with it, his hope for more.

  Chapter Eleven

/>   She could not have been more embarrassed. Her mother would have tanned her hide if she had found out what Whitney had just done and then given her a lecture on the merits of class and acting like a lady. Yet she was tired of being a lady all the time. She was tired of living within the strict confines that fear and heartbreak had placed around her—for once, she had stepped outside her comfort zone. Of course it had ended with her deeply shamed.

  She felt more than stupid. If only she had gone with her original plan of just getting a little ice cream and she hadn’t followed her heart instead.

  Now she couldn’t even look over at Colter without blushing. Though she was in her early twenties, it was like she was back in high school and heading home after a date. Yet this hadn’t been and wasn’t supposed to be a date...until she had pushed it there. If only she hadn’t taken his hand, none of this would have happened.

  There was no going back and undoing what had been done, and there was no getting past the fact that not just one, but two of the Fitzgerald brothers, a cashier and possibly an innocent bystander had seen her in her underwear.

  She groaned as she ran her hands over her face, like the simple action could scrub her mind of the thoughts running through it. There had been a million reasons she shouldn’t have acted the way she did, yet she hadn’t listened to any of them.

  It was like she was back in Kentucky, dating Frank and not listening to the little voice in her head that had always told her to run—and yet she had stayed, up until the fire. It was only when her life had been in danger that she had finally found the strength she needed in order for her to follow the direction that her heart had been leading her toward.

  She glanced over at Colter. He was gripping the steering wheel with both hands, squinting as he tried to see through the whitewash of snow in the headlights.

  It was odd that her heart had led her to this place, this moment in time, and straight to him.

  No. She had to be logical. Emotions be damned. She couldn’t fall into the trap of the feelings. Desire and lust were fickle beasts.

  Yet as she stared at him, she couldn’t deny the fact that there was no being fickle when it came to Colter. And the way he had touched her... It had felt so good. He was a real man. The kind who took what he wanted, when he wanted it—and didn’t wait to ask for permission. On the other hand, he wasn’t forceful or bullish; being with him was like dancing. Each of their movements had been a complement of the other’s, as if every motion were choreographed and perfected.

  She could only imagine what he would be like if they ever ended up in bed together. She blushed at the thought.

  “It’s okay, Whit,” Colter said, but he didn’t take his eyes off the blinding snow as he drove. “Wyatt won’t say anything.”

  She hadn’t even thought of that. Wyatt seemed like a stand-up guy, but that didn’t guarantee that the entire family and staff at Dunrovin wouldn’t find out about their little escapade.

  “Are you sure? And what if he saw something...?”

  Colter smiled and shot her a naughty look, one that made her flush again—making her wonder if every time he looked at her she would have the same reaction. If she did, it would make work that much more challenging—which was the last thing she needed.

  “We Fitz boys were raised to be gentlemen. If he did see something, which I doubt, no one will ever know it.” He reached over and put his hand down between them again, but this time she vowed that she wouldn’t take it, even though every part of her wanted to.

  He wiggled his fingers, baiting her to take his hand, but she stood her ground and crossed her arms over her chest and forced herself to look out the window and into the night. There was something magical on nights like this, when the blizzard engulfed them, reflecting the snowflakes in their headlights like bits of confetti. Though the world might have been telling her to celebrate, she couldn’t join in.

  “Are you mad at me?” He took hold of the wheel, giving up on her.

  She glanced over at him and shook her head. “Not with you.”

  “Then with who?” He tried to win her over with his trademark grin, and though she melted with it, she didn’t return his smile. “You know,” he continued, “that cashier was probably just upset that you were with me. You are a beautiful woman. And if you think you’re mad at him, trust me when I say that you can’t be half as mad as me.”

  A giggle sneaked past her resolve. “I’m not mad at the cashier...no matter how jealous you think he is. Which, by the way, I think you are mistaken about.”

  “Then why are you upset?” he asked. “You aren’t mad that you decided to kiss me, are you? I don’t want you to regret that...ever.”

  “It’s not you. It’s just that I shouldn’t have let things go there. It was a—”

  Colter slammed on the brakes and she grabbed the dashboard to stop herself from slamming against it. The tires skidded on the icy road, twisting the truck in slow motion. He moved the steering wheel in a smooth circle the opposite direction of their slide, correcting the movement but sending the truck fishtailing in the other direction.

  He threw his arm out, protectively holding her in place as he tried to control the truck.

  Her stomach ached as they thudded to a stop against the snowbank the plows had left behind. This time of year they were so frozen that she wondered how much damage they’d done to the side of the truck.

  “Are you okay?” he asked as he dropped his arm from her chest.

  She nodded, but her body was numb thanks to the shock of the accident. “What about you?”

  He ran his hands over his face, but nodded. “Did you see the horse?” he asked, motioning into the dark.

  She hadn’t been paying attention to anything except the swirling vortex of her thoughts.

  “It ran out in front of us. I don’t think I hit it, but we were close.”

  “What is a horse doing out in a snowstorm in the middle of the night?” she asked.

  “I have no idea, but it looked like Clark.”

  “A ranch horse?” In the storm, she hadn’t realized how close they were to the ranch. Though she had been driving up and down the roads leading to the place for months, in the darkness and snow she might well have been driving on the back side of the moon.

  “Doesn’t your mother check on the horses every night before she goes to bed?”

  He nodded. “And she would have had them in the stables on a night like this. It’s too cold.”

  “Are you sure it was one of ours? Your mother would never have left them out.”

  Colter’s face pinched. “She wouldn’t have, not unless something was very wrong.”

  He put the truck in gear and pressed on the gas, but the tires couldn’t get the traction they needed to pull away from the snowbank and just spun in place. He tried to rock the truck back and forth, no doubt hoping it would afford him more traction, but the truck wouldn’t budge.

  He cussed under his breath, but she could tell he was trying not to show her that he was starting to panic. It snowed in Kentucky, some places averaging around two feet a year, so this was hardly the first time she had been stuck in a snowbank. Yet there was something about the night that suddenly felt ominous. Her thoughts moved to the bomb and the threatening note.

  “You don’t think someone did something to your mother, do you?” she asked, the pain in her stomach intensifying and bile rising into the back of her throat.

  The lines around his eyes tightened and he set his jaw, making her wish she hadn’t said anything. He had to have been thinking the same thing without her saying it.

  “I’m sure she’s okay,” she said, trying to rectify her mistake. “Maybe the horses just got out or something.”

  “I hope so,” he said, reaching into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out his phone. He scrolled through the numbers unt
il she saw his mother’s cell phone number pop up and he hit Call. He left it on speakerphone, and it rang until it finally gave up and went to voice mail.

  “Don’t worry,” she said, trying to ignore the burn in her throat as she lied. “I’m sure she’s just sleeping. It’s the middle of the night, that’s all.”

  “My mother always sleeps with her phone right next to her—just in case of emergencies like this.”

  As each second ticked by, she had to admit he was right—this was becoming more and more of an emergency.

  “We’re going to have to try and push the truck out,” Colter said. “You slide over here and steer while I go around front and see if we can get her moving.” He jumped out as she slid over into his seat.

  She watched for him to give her the signal and she gunned it, revving the engine. The tires whirred against the ice and snow, and she could feel the truck rock as Colter pressed his weight against it, but they didn’t move.

  He pressed again and again, but each time the tires just slipped on the ice and their right tire dug deeper and deeper into the snow on the side of the road. Finally, he came around and got back in. His cheeks were red and there was a layer of sweat on his forehead as he took off his hat.

  “Dang it,” he said, half-breathless. “I was hoping that would work.”

  “How far are we from the ranch?”

  Colter peered out into the night as though he were searching for some lights in the distance, but everything was under the veil of snow. “I’m guessing that we can’t be more than a half mile. I mean, the horses...if they were in the barn...they couldn’t have gotten too far. Right?” He asked the question like he was trying to comfort himself instead of looking for an answer, but that didn’t stop her.

  “Right,” she said, trying to sound hopeful, but her attempt came out tinny and fake even to her own ears. “And who knows? Maybe they just walked over the fence thanks to a drift or something. You Montana boys get a lot of snow.”