Under His Hands

UNDER HIS HANDS By Diana Castle

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Table of Contents CHAPTER ONE ................................................................................. 5 CHAPTER TWO ............................................................................... 12 CHAPTER THREE ........................................................................... 19 CHAPTER FOUR) ............................................................................ 27 CHAPTER FIVE ............................................................................... 35 CHAPTER SIX ................................................................................. 43

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Copyright 2011 Diana Castle This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portion thereof, in any form. This ebook may not be resold or uploaded for distribution to others. This is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagnation and any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Dedication To my family for supporting my writing efforts, to Lori DeVoti for introducing me to the exciting world of e-publishing, and to Joely Sue Burkhart for all of the D&E (Dark & Early) writing sessions that kept me on track in spite of the crushing workload at the day job.

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CHAPTER ONE “That’s about the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard. And trust me, boss lady, I’ve heard more than my share.” Lucas Chase propped his tall, lean body against the wooden fence that surrounded the corral of the Circle B Ranch. The herd of wild mustangs he’d brought in that morning thundered about the enclosure. Thick clouds of dust swelled upward from their passage into the hot, dry air then drifted down onto his wide-brimmed hat and across his broad shoulders, but he ignored it. His lips twisted slyly. “And here I was thinking you knew what you was doing running this ranch all on your own.” Blood heated Hannah O’Rourke’s cheeks, and her heart thumped hard against the stays of her corset. Normally she wouldn’t have even been wearing one. Especially in this infernal heat. But she’d had to ride into town to see the banker, and it was difficult enough convincing him to take her seriously, being the young widow that she was. She certainly wasn’t going to exacerbate the situation by appearing before him without her corset. As for Lucas, her foreman’s remark about her running of the ranch stung. Straightening her spine— which certainly wasn’t difficult to do in this damnable corset—she lifted her chin. “Is that so, Mr. Chase? I must say, I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to apprise me of your opinion. You’re usually so forthcoming.” “Do tell, Mrs. O’Rourke,” Lucas drawled, his gray eyes glittering as he lazily coiled and uncoiled his lariat. Hannah could not help looking at the rope, which he handled so smoothly with his big, workroughened hands. And a thrill, sweet, dark and illicit, surged through her. A thrill brought on by what he was going to do to her tonight with that rope. Recalling his words regarding her running of her cattle ranch she pointedly, if reluctantly, drew her gaze away from it and glared at him. “You have, after all, worked for me nearly half a year now, and you’ve never before questioned my ideas regarding my management of the hands.” A corner of his firm mouth curled and he slowly nodded. “Yep, that sounds about right.” She frowned. He did that sometimes. Steer the conversation onto a trail that existed solely within his mind and then expected her to track merrily along. She was sorely tempted to ignore him. However, experience had shown it was best to let him speak his mind and be done with it. “What sounds about right?” Her voice conveyed her growing irritation with him. She hadn’t forgotten his mocking remark about how she managed the ranch. He pushed away from the fence and sauntered over to her, puffs of yellowish dirt from the rain-starved ground swirling about his spurred boots. He wore a pair of dusty leather chaps which flapped about his long legs. Hannah tried and failed to keep her eyes from glancing at his crotch, which the chaps, fashioned as they were, tended to maddeningly emphasize. He stopped when he was just in front of her. She had to lift her head to look up at him, and when she did she beheld a face fashioned by the Devil himself to seduce even the most righteous and virtuous woman onto the path of hellfire and eternal damnation. 5

Smoky gray eyes framed by long, sooty lashes. Hair as black as those lashes. Black like midnight. Black like coal ready to flame. Black like the darkest, most forbidden temptation. A strong, square jaw upon which lay a three-day’s growth of dark stubble. Lips that were firm but sensual with a sardonic, erotic twist to them. In actual fact, Lucas Chase was the most devilishly handsome man Hannah had ever laid eyes on and he provoked her to no end. However, in spite of her growing frustration with him, she also ached for him. Ached for his hard, dusty hands caressing her body; his warm, sinful lips kissing her breasts; his long, nimble tongue licking her nipples. Her breath quickened and a delicious shiver rippled up her spine. Lucas’s deep-timbered voice snapped her out of her heated imaginings. “You’re right that I ain’t had cause to question your decisions before but…” He stopped and another sly look appeared on his face, suggesting he had more to say but was waiting for her to draw it out of him. “But what?” she finally snapped when he remained pigheadedly silent. He grinned, satisfied he had succeeded in stirring her up as he liked to call it. “But I reckon now that I think on it I should have said more about your jackass ideas.” “Jackass?” He chuckled. He found it amusing whenever she tried to talk like him or the other hands. He once told her hearing such words come out of her genteel Boston mouth was like watching a slug crawl out of a rose. “Yeah, jackass.” His eyes suddenly narrowed. “Was it his idea?” “Whose idea?” A muscle in his jaw worked as if he were chewing on something that was proving tough to eat. “Travers.” He spat the name out as if it were poison in his mouth. Hannah blinked. “Samuel?” Samuel Travers was the son of a neighboring rancher. He’d recently returned home from the East where he had attended school and earned a law degree. Since his return, he had called upon Hannah on several occasions. He’d been away at school when her husband had brought her out West and had also been away when he died. “Yeah. Him.” Lucas’s voice throbbed with scorn. “Sounds like something that feather-headed fool would suggest. From what I hear tell, despite all that fancy schooling he got back East, he ain’t got sense enough to drive nails into a snow bank.” Hannah fidgeted with the lace on the front of her dress. The last time Samuel had visited she had, in fact, mentioned her idea to him. He had thought it a good one and had even praised her on it. Of course, even his own father had confessed that his only son wasn’t all that interested in ranching, and it was the good Lord’s blessing he wasn’t because he had about as much aptitude for running a ranch as a snake had for crowing or a heifer for laying eggs. “No, Samuel did not suggest it. It was my idea. Completely.” She stiffened her body, her lips thinning. “I suppose you consider me incapable of coming up with ideas on my own.” Lucas stared down at her then offered her a small smile. “Oh, no. Not at all. I know you’re quite capable of it.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “But you’re the boss.” 6

“Exactly. And since you’ve finally deigned to remember that particular fact, I fully expect you to do as I say from now on. Are we clear, Mr. Chase?” “Clear as rain, Mrs. O’Rourke.” Hannah licked her dry lips. The heat of the sweltering late summer afternoon was already causing her to perspire more than a respectable woman should. Sweat trickled around her breasts, down her back and between her thighs, and the physical discomfort was making her distressingly aware of her body. And the things Lucas did to it with that rope he was lazily playing with. The sinful, wicked, utterly delicious things he did when it was just the two of them. But that was the last thing she wanted to be thinking about right now. Especially when she needed to maintain the upper hand. “Now, as I was saying, I intend to—” Lucas slowly shook his head. She stopped, frustration prickling her like the perspiration on the back of her neck. “What is it now?” Sweat drizzled down the hard planes of Lucas’s face, and she couldn’t help wanting to lick it off his sun-browned skin. She gritted her teeth. Focus, Hannah, focus. “It’s still a dumb idea,” he said. She blinked. “Am I mistaken or didn’t you agree to abide by my decision?” He untied the red kerchief from about his neck and swiped at the perspiration on his face. “Jesus! It’s hotter than a whorehouse on nickel night.” She glared at him. Noting her look, he quickly tied the kerchief back around his neck. Then he put his gloved hands on his hips and leaned toward her, his gray eyes boring into hers. “No, Mrs. O’Rourke. I did not agree.” “You most certainly did.” “As I recall you asked if we was clear I was to do as you say from now on. And I said yep, clear as rain. I don’t see that as me giving credence to your present notion.” Hannah ground her teeth. “You’re splitting hairs.” “Could be. It’s your ranch and, Lord knows, you’ve every right to do with it as you please.” His eyes narrowed. “But you hired me on as foreman. And as I’ve been working for you nigh on half a year now you must be…” He stopped and fixed her with a lustful look. “Satisfied with my work.” Her throat constricted as her sex tightened and moistened. And she saw herself in her mind’s eye. Naked, roped to her bed and totally helpless under his fierce, rough, demanding hands. She cleared her throat, as much to relieve its tightness as to drive that heated image from her mind. “You’re right,” she went on briskly, “I’ve no cause to be displeased with you. Or your work,” she added. She made certain her voice remained businesslike to discourage him from referring to their secret trysts. “Glad to hear it,” he drawled. “Hate to think I’ve lost my touch.” His voice bore down on that last word the way his hands did when she was tied up beneath him. Damn him. He was deliberately trying to set her off joint. “However, I fully intend to go through with my decision, Mr. Chase.” Yes, continue to refer to him by his surname. Make it clear that outside their private encounters she was the one in charge. Not him. “I did well with the sale of my cattle,” she went on, “and the men have worked hard. I see no reason 7

not to share some of my largesse with them.” “Well, I beg to differ, ma’am, because I do see a reason.” He pointed towards the bunkhouse. “You give them boys as big a raise as you’re suggesting, and I guarantee you as sure as sunshine on a July day they ain’t going to do nothing with that extra money but waste it on whiskey, gambling and whores. You might as well start a bonfire and burn that money as give it to them.” “I don’t agree.” He dolefully shook his head. “Why am I not surprised?” “Perhaps they will take the extra money and set it aside.” He frowned. “Set it aside?” “For their future.” He threw his head back and laughed. “Their future? You joshing me? Them boys don’t know nothing about no future. All they know is the here and now. Driving cattle. Drinking whiskey. Fucking whores.” Hannah’s cheeks burned. Since Lucas usually didn’t swear around her, she knew he was angry. But what he was angry about she had no idea. All she knew was his crabbiness was becoming contagious. “And you know better than they do, I suppose?” she remarked. “About the whores I mean.” He stared at her, his gray eyes now as cool as autumn rain. “And what about your future, Mrs. O’Rourke?” he said, ignoring her question about the prostitutes. “What?” He glanced around. “You got yourself a nice spread here. Ain’t many could run one of the largest cattle ranches in the territory.” He gave her a pointed look. “In spite of.” Her lips firmed. She clearly heard the rest of his sentence as if he had spoken it aloud. In spite of being a woman. She crossed her arms over her breasts. “Your point, Mr. Chase?” Lucas flicked a hot glance at her breasts then looked back into her eyes. “It’s your future you should be worrying about. Not theirs.” “I don’t know what you mean.” “Who you plan on leaving all this to?” She stared at him but said nothing. She now knew what he was on about and where he going with the conversation, but she certainly wasn’t going to help him get there. “Babies,” he said when she remained mulishly silent. “You ought to be thinking about having yourself some young’uns.” She firmly shook her head. Children meant marriage and she had sworn never to remarry. Lucas frowned. Probably because he thought it unnatural of her not to want children. But she did want children. Very much so. She just didn’t want another husband. And since she couldn’t have one without the other, well that, as they say, was that. He swung his hand again at the bunkhouse. “Instead of giving that money to them who ain’t going to do a thing with it except get roostered up and whore or gamble it away you should put it back in the ranch.” “I have every intention of doing that. But I also think—” He took a step closer. “You ought to be married, Hannah.” He never called her by her Christian name. Except when he had her tied to her bed, his firm lips pressed against her ear as he fiercely whispered her name over and over, his hot hands stroking and 8

kneading her naked flesh. “I know you think you’ve done alright running this ranch without a husband,” he went on. “And, you have, I’ll grant you that.” She arched a brow. “How chivalrous of you.” He ignored her sarcasm. “But a woman running a spread this large all by her lonesome ain’t natural.” “What do you mean it isn’t natural?” “A man would have himself a wife. And young’uns. Not just to help him but so he’d have someone to pass all his hard work onto.” A smile curled Hannah’s lips. “Are you saying I’m in need of a wife?” He didn’t return her smile. He just stared at her. She frowned and shook her head. “No, I will not marry. Not again. Not ever.” “You sure about that?” “Of course.” “What about Travers?” This was the second time this morning Lucas had brought him up. The few times Samuel had visited, Lucas tended to ignore him. Even if Samuel went out of his way to greet him with a howdy or a good morning, Lucas would only growl something in passing. That had been the extent of the contact between the two men. Except, of course, that afternoon a week ago when the two had nearly shot each other. “What about Samuel?” Hannah asked. Lucas looked away from her, that same muscle in his jaw bunching. “Nothing,” he muttered. “Don’t you dare say nothing. What is it?” He looked back at her. “You ought to be married,” he stubbornly repeated. “To whom? You?” His face tightened and his eyes narrowed. “Something wrong with the idea?” “Yes, there most certainly is. I will never remarry.” “Never is a long time.” He raked his gaze up and down her body. “Your mind may be all set on that notion, but your body…” He looked back into her eyes. “Your body says different.” The sun was like a furnace in the sky above Hannah’s head, and she felt as if she were going to faint from the stifling heat. Lucas certainly wasn’t helping matters with his repeated references to their secret trysts. Even now her cunny swelled, imagining his rough hand on it, stroking and caressing the tender nether lips to a fevered pitch with his long, callused fingers. “I will not marry,” she repeated firmly. “And if you’re unable to deal with that then perhaps you should move on.” Lucas took a short, quick step towards her. She smelled leather and horse and that distinctive masculine odor that was strictly his own and never failed to make her weak at the knees. “Is that what you want?” His hard, angry voice beat against her. “You want me to leave? Because I’ll do it. Goddamnit, woman, I’ll cut a path out of here so fast you won’t have time to draw a breath.” Her eyes widened. Leave? No, he couldn’t leave. But she would not say that to him. She could not. Because if she did he would know how she truly felt about him and such knowledge in the possession of any man was risky. In the hands of a man like Lucas Chase it was downright dangerous. 9

“I just want you to stop pestering me about marriage,” she said instead. He scowled at her. “I ain’t pestering you about it.” “Aren’t you? You and every man that’s ever come here since I was widowed. Asking me to marry them. Acting as if they cared for me.” Hannah’s voice hitched and the old pain, like a scabbed-over wound, burst open. Her husband, Broden O’Rourke, lying dead in the sweat-stained bed of a whore, his heart having given out as he had romped with her. The pain rolled over into anger; a proud but terrified anger that had festered inside her like a canker as she had struggled with the shame of Broden’s adultery and faced down the stares from those who knew how and with whom her husband had died. That anger burned in her now. Fueled as much by all that she’d gone through fighting to hold on to the Circle B as much as by Lucas’s questioning of her ability to run the ranch on her own. So as she was to later reflect, it made perfect sense for her to turn that anger on him. “But none of them really wanted me,” she went on, her voice throbbing. “All of them wanted only one thing. To become master of the Circle B.” She lifted her head and looked Lucas directly in the eyes. “And you’re no different.” The sun was behind him so that all she could see of his features, shadowed as they were by the brim of his hat, were his gray eyes. And in them was a gleam terrifying to behold, like lightning flaring across the plains. He grabbed her arm, his grip tight, and with the pain came the familiar, lustful pulsing between her thighs, and she saw herself again in her mind’s eye. Her naked body tied to the bed, the moon a cool and silent witness, and Lucas’s hands riding hard upon her flesh. “Is that what you think of me?” His low, heated voice brought her back to the white heat of the afternoon, his fingers pressing against the bone of her arm. A moan slipped from between her lips, and that raw desire she always felt when Lucas put his hands on her slithered through her body. Her cunny swelled and moistened, her nipples stiffened, and she wanted nothing more than for him to drag her into the house, up the stairs to her bedroom and throw her on the bed. Or maybe into the dark, cool barn where he could toss her onto a scratchy bale of hay, or even, the good Lord forgive her, take her right then and there on the hard, dusty ground. Rip off her clothes with his big, rough hands and do those things he only did when they were alone. Lucas angrily shook her arm, bringing her back to the moment. “Is that all I am to you? A pest?” His voice slashed across her like a bullwhip. “No different than those flannel-mouthed fools who come calling on you? No different than Travers?” His eyes narrowed. “Is that it? You want me out of the way so you can marry him?” Hannah’s eyes widened. Marry Samuel? She had no intention whatsoever of marrying Samuel or anyone else for that matter. However, before she could say a word to that, one of the hands came out of the bunkhouse. She tried to jerk her arm away from Lucas’s grip. She didn’t want anyone to see his hands on her. There was already talk aplenty about the nature of her relationship with her handsome foreman. Lucas, however, had such a firm hold on her arm that when she did manage to free herself she 10

stumbled. He reached out to steady her. She quickly moved away, fearing he was going to take hold of her again. Pain flashed across his face and he jerked back his hand. His nostrils flared and his gray eyes hardened. “Damn you, damn Travers and damn this ranch to hell.” He turned on his boot heel and strode away. Hannah’s heart beat hard within her chest. She had never seen him so angry. She let him put his hands on her once a month, but she thought he understood what it was she wanted from him and had accepted it as such. She was about to call out to him, but the person who had come out of the bunkhouse, a young cowboy named Colton, was heading over to her. Instead she bit her lower lip and silently watched as Lucas got on his horse and rode away. Clouds of hazy dust swelled up behind him then quickly obscured him from her sight. Colton stopped in front of her and jerked his hat off his head, his fingers dancing nervously around the wrinkled brim. Strands of brown hair clung damply to his sunburned forehead as he gazed at her with that puppy-dog look the younger hands tended to grace her with. “Excuse me, ma’am,” he said, his voice breaking. He was so young. Between hay and grass as Lucas was apt to say. Despite the fact all she could hear was Lucas’s last angry words tolling in her ears like an iron bell, she smiled. “Yes, Colton. What is it?” He bashfully ducked his head, his cheeks flushing. “Is...is...Mr. Chase coming back?” He was the most shy and tongue-tied around her. “He...uh...he...said he had some things for me to do before I left for town with the rest of the fellers.” Hannah stared at Colton but she didn’t answer him. And the reason she didn’t was because she honestly had no idea if Lucas was, in fact, ever coming back.

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CHAPTER TWO Hannah stared at her reflection in her brass-framed mirror. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and the curls of her auburn hair, which she had just spent the last half-hour arranging, were already wilting. The sun had set an hour ago, but the air was still syrupy with heat. The bedroom window was open, but the white lace curtains hung limply. Even the water she had drawn for her bath, which had come up out of the darkness of the well refreshingly cool, had quickly turned tepid in the hot, muggy air. It had felt as if she were washing herself with sweat. But at least she had cleaned off most of the grime and dust of the day. She slid an ivory hairpin into her hair. As she did, the sleeve of her dress slid down her arm. She stared at the bruise Lucas had left on her flesh when he grabbed her. He’d left bruises on her body before when she had lain, willingly and breathlessly, under his merciless hands. But afterwards he would kiss each one and solemnly beg her forgiveness. Which she had never given. There had been no need for him to apologize for what he did to her. She wanted him to do those things when he had her trussed up to her bed. She glanced over at the huge mahogany bed with the gleaming brass posts and the gold silk canopy. She’d had it built special after Broden’s death because she had no longer wished to sleep in the bed they had shared as man and wife. The bed he had abandoned for another. She looked back at her arm. Lucas wasn’t here to kiss the bruise he’d left. He still hadn’t returned from wherever he had ridden off to in a huff. As she picked up another hairpin, she recalled his words that morning. Calling her idea about raising the wages of the hands jackass. Hinting he thought she wasn’t doing all that well running the Circle B by herself. Accusing her of wanting him to leave so that she could marry Samuel after she was certain she’d made it clear to him she wasn’t going to marry anyone. She frowned at her reflection in the mirror and gripped her hairpin so hard it pricked her skin. The pain shot a bolt of lust through her and she shuddered. It had always been that way with her. Pain and pleasure. One and the same. It was her dark secret. Something she had never revealed to anyone. Until that night, not too long after she had married when, having enjoyed their bedroom play more than she had imagined, she asked Broden to tie her to their bed. Instead of responding with an equal share of passion and enthusiasm, he had glared at her, called her a harlot and then, apparently disgusted with her and her appetites, left their marriage bed for that of another. A woman of scandalous reputation whom, she later learned, he’d been seeing even before he married Hannah. And there he had died. In his whore’s bed of heart failure. But on that night a few months back when Hannah had asked Lucas to tie her up, he hadn’t called her names. In fact, he had given her what she wanted in ways she had never dreamt of even in her wildest fantasies. And now he was threatening to leave the ranch. To leave her. Her throat closed and anxiety gouged her stomach. Would he really do it? Would he really leave? 12

He’d only been foreman for a few months. And yet it felt as if he’d always been there. As if he’d always been a part of her life. He couldn’t leave. He wouldn’t. And why wouldn’t he? A voice inside her mind sneered. Why shouldn’t he leave after you accused him of only wanting to marry you so he could get his hands on the Circle B? You wanted to keep him at bay? Well, by golly, you certainly accomplished that. Hannah unclenched her hand and stared at the dot of blood welling on her palm from where she’d pricked herself with the hairpin. She wasn’t even sure why she was getting herself ready. Fixing her hair. Putting on a fancy dress. She and Lucas had squabbled before. He’d never done what he did today. Rode off without so much as a by-your-leave. What’d you expect him to do? He’s a proud man. You knew that the day you hired him. She firmly shook her head. He’d come back. Even if he really was going to leave, he’d have to come back for his things. She glanced at herself in the mirror, worry shadowing her green eyes. Wouldn’t he? She dabbed at the blood on her palm with one of her linen handkerchiefs then finished arranging her hair. All the hands, except those manning the line camps, had ridden off to town just before sunset. As foreman, Lucas should have been the one giving them permission to do so, but since he hadn’t returned, Hannah had seen to it. Her housekeeper, Mrs. Foxton, had already left to visit her elderly aunt in town and would not be back to the ranch until late Sunday night. Hannah was alone. She inspected her reflection in the mirror. She always dressed up for these once-a-month Saturday nights with Lucas. The emerald-colored satin dress she wore matched her green eyes and set off her auburn hair. She had no illusions about her appearance or its effect on men. She was beautiful and always had been. It wasn’t ego. It was just a fact. Her mother had been beautiful and Hannah was the splitting image of her. But Hannah soon learned that beauty was not enough. It certainly hadn’t stopped her father from leaving her and her mother, no matter how much pride he had taken in his handsome wife and pretty daughter. And when Hannah had taken over the ranch after Broden’s death, her beauty had proven more of a liability than an asset. No one had taken seriously her determination to hold on to the Circle B, nor had they believed she had it in her to run it. But Lucas had. From the day she’d taken him on as her foreman he had supported her. Or at least he’d given the impression he had. Based on his words earlier that day, she now wondered how much he really believed in her ability to manage the huge ranch. She reached over to a tin container on her dressing table and dug among the contents, plucking out a round candy and popping it into her mouth. Mint, cool and leafy, exploded on her tongue. It didn’t do much for the heat but at least it tasted good. As she sucked on the mint she frowned. How could Lucas possibly imagine that she’d ever want to marry again? He knew how Broden had died and with whom. She’d even told him about how she’d had 13

to endure both the shock and the shame of it. And then, after she had mourned alone in the big house that now belonged solely to her, they came. The Suitors. Word quickly spread there was a young widow whose husband had left her mistress of one of the largest cattle ranches in the territory. And so they came. All manner and types of men seeking her hand in marriage. Gamblers, ranchers, ex-lawmen, reformed outlaws and not so reformed. Even an English lord. They all came calling, hoping to win her heart. Declaring their appreciation of her. Their respect. Their love. But how could any of them have loved her? They didn’t even know her. All they had wanted, as far as she was concerned, was the Circle B. So she’d sent them all packing, determined not only to maintain control over the ranch but over her heart. And then, one day, Lucas Chase showed up. He came to her in the middle of a twister. And from that day on nothing in her life had been the same. She patted her moist forehead with her handkerchief. Picking up a crystal bottle, she opened it and daubed some of the perfume on her neck. The scent of camellias enveloped her. She drew the heady fragrance into her lungs. She’d ordered it special for tonight. Rising from her dressing table, she went over to the window and looked out over the ranch. The sun had dipped the horizon and the first stars now shyly appeared in the sky. She had been frightened the first time she came out West. She’d not been prepared for how empty the land was and how wide the sky and had felt diminished by it all. But over time she’d come to love this wild, fierce, beautiful country. Love it as much as she loved… She quickly shook her head and moved her gaze over to the corral. The mustangs Lucas had brought in were milling restlessly about. They were wild and fierce, but also frightened. However, once Lucas was done with them, they would be steady, dependable cow ponies. Hannah gripped the lace curtain. He should have come back by now. She left her bedroom and made her way downstairs. Shadows huddled in the corners of the parlor. She lit one of the lamps and looked around the room. It was big. Just as the house was big. Broden had built the house big because, as he’d told her the day arrived at the ranch as a newly-married couple, her one and only job was to be his wife and the mother of his children. But that had not been enough for Hannah. She had wanted to learn all she could about ranching. So she had asked Broden questions about everything. And when he either couldn’t or wouldn’t answer her she had asked the hands. That had not set well with him, and he soon ordered her to keep close to the house and not speak to the men at all. Well, Broden was gone and she was now the owner of the Circle B. Opening the front door, she stepped out on the porch. The air outside was just as stifling. And there was still no breeze. And no sign of Lucas. More than likely, instead of coming back to the ranch, he was going to sulk and stay in town where he would play cards, drink whiskey and then, when he was good and drunk, more than likely amble over to the whorehouse where Broden had died. 14

He’d sworn to her one night that he never went to the brothel, but she could not imagine a man as finelooking and lusty as Lucas being able to resist visiting it. A vision of him, his muscular arms wrapped around one of the whores, his mouth hot and fierce on her painted lips, his hands caressing her naked body, flared in Hannah’s mind. Pain pierced her. A pain so severe she placed a hand on her stomach and drew in a long, shaky breath. Quickly gathering herself, she stepped off the porch, lamp in hand, and went over to the bunkhouse. She knew it was empty since all the hands were in town. She hesitated entering, however. She rarely went inside it. Mainly because as a woman she was wary of treading in what she saw as purely masculine territory. Also, Lucas had told her it wasn’t a good idea for her to go sashaying around in it. The hands all respected her, he assured her, but the fellers, as he called them, tended to be a bit wild and wooly when she wasn’t around. She opened the door and stepped inside. Her nose was immediately assaulted with the odor of sweat, tobacco, dried cow dung and what smelled like licorice. She lifted her lamp and looked around. Soiled clothes were strewn on the floor among the rows of bunks, along with grimy boots, dirty socks, wrinkled cigarette papers and frayed ropes. Over in the corner she noticed one of the bunks was not messy. An island of orderliness in a sea of chaos, the bed was tidily made and covered with what looked like a wolf pelt. A pair of neatly arranged, if dusty boots, sat in front of it. A double-barreled shotgun hung next to the bed. Underneath the shotgun was a picture that had been hammered into the wall. Hannah moved closer. It was a label that had been ripped off a cigar box top. The illustration was of a nude woman, draped in a white, gossamer shawl, rising serenely from a wave tossed ocean. Her long auburn hair flowed down her back, her eyes modestly closed, but the picture left no imagination as to her feminine attributes. Hannah stared at the picture and, as she did, the realization hit her that the woman’s features were similar to her own. Glancing to her left, she recognized the angora chaps hanging from a peg near the bed. It was Lucas’s bunk. She looked around and spied a wooden shelf next to the bed. Among the items stacked inside it were a hair brush twined with long black hair, a battered tin box with a decorative design of red and white roses around the lid, and a book. Its faded brown cover was weather-beaten as if it had seen the worst of rain and sun. Hannah gazed at the book. Not long after she had hired Lucas she discovered he was illiterate. It was the day she handed him the town’s newspaper to show him an article about cattle prices. He made a joke of it, but she saw the shame in his eyes when he confessed he couldn’t read. She had offered to teach him, but he told her he didn’t see much of a need for a cowpuncher like him to know how to read. Feeling like the worst kind of eavesdropper, she picked up the book. It was a school primer. The kind given to children to teach them the alphabet and the most basic of words. An image of Lucas, the child’s book cradled in his big hands as he sat on his horse while he looked after her cattle, his lips moving slowly as he carefully formed the words, seized her mind. He’d been too proud to accept her offer to teach him how to read. But he still yearned to imporve himself. As Hannah stared at the child’s book, a wave of feelings swept over her, each more confusing and confounding than the next. She put the book back on the shelf and left the bunkhouse. She walked over to the barn, pulled open 15

the doors and went inside. She hung the lamp on a nearby hook and walked through the barn, her gaze moving over the feed buckets, piles of hay, a worn saddle draped over a stall railing and, up above her head, feathery veils of spider webs. The barn was as empty as the bunkhouse. She stood for a moment, loneliness welling up inside her so big she thought she’d burst from it. It was a cruel and bitter lonesomeness she felt as she stood on the ranch she was so bound and determined to hold onto alone. And a dreadful yearning came down on her. Huge and deep and powerful. A yearning that was like the most ravenous hunger, the most unquenchable thirst. And it was Lucas she was hungering and thirsting for. Lucas she was wanting. Damn him. But he wasn’t coming back. At least not tonight and, unless she was of a mind to go into town and look for him—which she most certainly was not going to do—there was nothing for it but for her to go to bed. She turned around to reach for the lamp, but before she could take hold of it, someone grabbed her from behind. A gloved hand smothered her scream, and solid, muscular arms held her firmly. As she struggled to free herself, panic rose, black and hot, inside her. Though there hadn’t been any trouble of late with rustlers or outlaws, it didn’t mean there still weren’t scallywags about who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of a lone woman. “Stop squirming.” Recognizing Lucas’s voice and the firm note of command in it, she instinctively obeyed, although her heart continued to beat hard and fast. He dragged her over to one of the stalls. The warm smell of hay filled her nose. As for Lucas he smelled like horse and sweat and leather. And whiskey. She quickly moved her head back and forth to let him know she wanted him to take his hand away from her mouth. He did so, but he kept her pressed against his broad chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her. “Are you drunk?” she snapped. Her father had taken to drinking when he lost all his money. And when Broden had drank, he had sometimes gotten as mean as a rattlesnake. Lucas chuckled low and rough. “And what if I am? You gonna fire me?” His breath was hot against her ear and, although she did smell whiskey on it, it wasn’t as much as she’d initially thought. She struggled within the hard grip of his arms. “You know I don’t like it when you’ve been drinking.” Her voice was still sharp from her initial panic at his having snuck up on her. “Tough.” He tightened his arms around her. “Tonight ain’t about what you like or don’t like. Or had you forgotten?” Of course she hadn’t forgotten. But she didn’t want him trussing her up if he was going to be mean about it. “Tonight,” he crooned, his firm lips pressed against her ear, the stubble on his jaw scraping her cheek, “is about what I want. What I say. Ain’t that right, boss lady? I’m the one in charge tonight,” 16

Taking hold of her by the shoulders, he spun her around so that she was facing him. His gaze, from under his hat, raked over her, his eyes approving of her appearance. He pulled her towards him and kissed her. Hard. So hard she feared he would bruise her mouth. Forcing his tongue between her lips, he delved it deeply into her mouth, rolling it around wetly. At first she resisted him. She didn’t like the taste of whiskey but, oh, sweet Jesus, she could never stand firm against him when he kissed her like this. And the sting of his mouth on hers was like a drug in her blood. She moaned, fiercely mating her tongue with his. He broke their kiss and stared hotly down at her. "You taste good." "It's mint.” She looked up at him, trying to gauge his emotions. He’d never been angry those nights before when she’d let him tie her up. He had ridden his hands hard upon her, but he’d done so with a fierce tenderness. There was no tenderness in his eyes tonight. They were hard and red-rimmed. Had he been anyone else she might have thought he’d been crying. But in light of the whiskey on his breath, the redness around his gray eyes had to be a result of his drinking. She couldn’t imagine a man like Lucas Chase weeping over anything. Or anyone. He grinned, but it was a predatory smile. Wolfish and savage. Taking hold of her head, he kissed her again, his tongue ravishing her mouth. When he finally released her, she staggered, her lips stinging, her breath coming fast and hard. Grabbing a rope from a nearby railing, he took hold of her arm and dragged her towards the back of the barn. “Where are we going?” “Hush up,” he growled. “Aren’t we going into the house?” “I told you to be quiet.” His voice was as dark and hard as his eyes. “We’re going where I say we’re going.” He pulled her over to a post. Tying one end of the rope about her wrists, he jerked her arms up over her head. Then he secured the other end of the rope around the post. He did it with the skillful, practiced ease of a man used to roping cattle. Hannah’s eyes widened. What was he doing? She didn’t want to do this in the barn. They’d always done it in her bedroom. But tonight, she realized with a hard thump of her heart, was different. And it was different because she hadn’t just offended Lucas when she’d accused him of only wanting to marry her so he could get his hands on the Circle B. She’d hurt him. Men didn’t know how to deal with hurt. She’d witness it as a child watching her father give in to despair after losing all his money to deceitful business partners. At first he took to drinking but when that only made matters worse, he left her and her mother. Men acted like they weren’t supposed to feel hurt. As if it was somehow unmanly. They didn’t know what to do with their pain. And not knowing what to do with it made them angry. And dangerous. 17

Danger was something Hannah was drawn to in a man. Drawn to it as much as she was drawn to pain. And she’d never met a more dangerous man than Lucas Chase. Her cunny swelled in anticipation.

18

CHAPTER THREE Lucas moved closer until he was just in front of her. She had to lift her head to look into his face. He was one of the taller men on her ranch. Possessed of a lean, muscular build, his ruggedly handsome face could be hard as flint one minute then break into a wide, boyish smile the next. He wasn’t smiling tonight. Taking off his hat, he threw it on the ground. His thick, dark hair was mussed up from his having worn the hat, she assumed, since he’d ridden off earlier in the day. If she hadn’t been tied up, she would have run her fingers through it, reveling in its warm silkiness. He glanced at her arm. The sleeve of her dress had slipped down and the bruise he’d given her earlier was visible, a dark smudge on her skin. He looked back at her, his eyes still veiled with lust and anger. Was it her imagination or did she also see a hint of guilt? He should feel guilty. Any marks he’d left on her body had always been done at her bidding. He leaned over and kissed the bruise. A shudder passed through Hannah and desire rippled through her belly. What was wrong with her that she could take delight in such things? He kissed the bruise on her arm as tenderly as he did when she was tied up on the bed. He never wanted to hurt her and was always hesitant to do so. It was she who urged him to, her body twisting and writhing in the ropes as he slapped and squeezed and marked her naked flesh. And once everything was going hot and fierce, his breath rough against her skin, she knew, despite his initial misgivings, that he enjoyed what he was doing to her as much as she did. He moved his mouth away from her arm and cupped her face, the worn buckskin of his gloves burnishing her skin. He leaned forward as if he meant to kiss her. Instead he moved his mouth to her neck and sucked and nipped it. Hannah squirmed against him, and her arms, stretched as they were over her head, tugged against the rope tied securely about her wrists. “Lucas, please, let’s go into the house.” He ignored her. He kissed and sucked her neck, his hands moving possessively over her body. Gripping her buttocks, he squeezed and kneaded them. Hannah moaned. Pressed as he was against her, she felt the long, thick length of his cock. And she wanted that cock. She’d wanted it from the first time he’d touched her. But fearing the price of such deep intimacy, she had not let Lucas put it inside her. He could do whatever he wanted when she was tied up and under his hands, but not that. Lucas had honored her wish. When he was finally finished with her, and she lay limp and exhausted on her bed, her wrists sagging in the ropes, her body still shuddering from her climaxes, he would gently untie her. Once she was free, he would guide her hands to his stiff cock and use her palms to stroke him to his release. But now as he continued to kiss and fondle her in the barn, his desire fueled as much by anger as lust, she wondered if he would continue to respect her desire they not engage in intercourse. He moved his mouth away from her neck and looked down at her. His breath was ragged, his face still 19

hard, his eyes as cold as a clear winter’s night. Even in the humid warmth of the barn, they chilled her. “You smell good,” he said. “Like a field of prairie flowers.” “It’s camellias.” He frowned. “Camellias? What’s that?” “A flower.” “They pretty?” “Pretty enough I suppose.” She’d only seen the flowers once. When she had traveled with her aunt to Charleston. A woman they’d visited, who lived in one of the few mansions in the area to survive the War Between the States unscathed, had a few shrubs remaining in her garden. “Well, you sure do smell nice.” He leaned closer, his warm, whiskey breath soft against her cheek. “You smell so good I’m of a mind to fuck you tonight.” Hannah’s eyes widened, startled as much by his use of the crude word as his intent. Her heart began to race. He’d always understood and respected her desire for them not to do that. It wasn’t just her fear of getting pregnant. To be that intimate with him would topple any remaining barriers she had in place around her heart. Once he was inside her, she would lose control. Of him and, most importantly, of herself. She would be vulnerable again. She could be hurt again. But she wanted him too. Having held his thick cock between her hands, she wanted to feel it inside her. Possessing her in every way possible. Filling her completely. Leaving no part of her untouched. And she was also tired of fighting her desire for him. The temptation to just let go and be one with him was powerful. She bit her lower lip. No, she couldn’t. She mustn’t. It was too dangerous. If she let him inside her body, he would then touch her soul. And she never again wanted to feel the kind of pain she’d suffered as a result of Broden’s infidelity. “No. You can’t do that,” she said. Lucas put his gloved hands on her arms. “What’s to stop me?” She lifted her chin and looked him in the eyes. “You.” He frowned. “Maybe.” Then he shrugged. “Maybe not.” He lifted one of her auburn curls, which had come undone when they’d struggled and rubbed it between his fingers. “I certainly don’t aim on taking from you what you won’t give freely.” He smiled thinly. “But the way I see it, before we’re done, you’re going to beg me to fuck you.” She shook her head, but in truth she didn’t feel all that confident. Tied up as she was in her own barn, helpless to stop him from doing whatever he wanted to, fully aware that tonight she had no idea what was going to happen, she felt a heady excitement that made her heart race and her head spin. Letting go of her hair, Lucas unbuttoned the front of her dress, his fingers clumsy because of his gloves. He finally managed to get her bodice undone. He pulled it back, revealing her chemise. She’d not put on a corset tonight. It would have been hard to do so, anyway, without Mrs. Foxton to help her. Lucas raised his eyes from her breasts and looked at her. She stared back at him. At those dove gray eyes that could be soft and tender when he was of a mind, but certainly were not tonight. She’d hurt him with her accusation about his reasons for wanting to marry her. All she had to do was apologize. Tell him she was sorry. He would forgive her. Most likely. 20

But she didn’t want his forgiveness. She wanted him like this. Angry. Hot-blooded. Dangerous. It excited her. Like an intoxicant in her blood. Made her rash and heedless of any danger she might be in. It was the same feeling she’d had the first night she let him put his hands on her. He’d been her foreman for only a few months by then, but she’d kept her distance from him. She’d been determined, despite her growing attraction to him, to keep their relationship purely a business one. On that particular night, however, she’d been standing at her bedroom window, trying to catch a breeze, clad only in her nightgown. Mrs. Foxton had been visiting her aunt and the hands, including Lucas, were all in town. As she stood at the window, gazing out at the setting sun, Lucas rode in alone. She watched him as he reined in his horse, tied it up and then looked up at her where she stood in the window. They stared at each other for a long time. And then, not even aware she was doing it until it was done, she took off her nightgown and let it pool to the floor around her feet. The sun was below the horizon so she could no longer see Lucas’s face. He continued to stare up at her then he moved toward the house. Heart pounding, mouth dry, she stood, trembling, as the front door opened and closed, boots pounded on the parlor floor, up the stairs then down the hall. And then he was there. In her bedroom. Where no man had been since her husband had died, his rope in his hands and, as he stared at her naked body, a raw hunger in his eyes. It was a hunger that matched her own. "Tie me up," she said. Her throat tightened as she waited for him to spew the disgust Broden had flung at her that night she’d asked him to do the same thing. Lucas’s eyes widened, a muscle in the line of his jaw jumping, his hands tensely twisting the rope. But he only stared at her and said nothing. "Tie me to the bed," she said, her voice firmer. She hadn’t meant for it to sound like an order but he was, after all, in her employ. His lips parted, releasing a breath she heard even from across the room. He coiled the rope tightly about his big knuckles. Then he moved toward her and quickly and skillfully tied her naked body to the bed, his breath harsh in his chest as he did so. After he was done, he stepped back. She looked up at him, the blood pounding in her ears. “Touch me.” “What?” “Touch me, Lucas.” It was the first time she’d ever called him by his Christian name. Before it had always been Mr. Chase. “You want to, don’t you?” He swallowed thickly, the muscles in his neck working, his hot gaze raking across her splayed-out body. He looked back at her and frowned. “What are you playing at?” “I’m not playing at anything. Touch me. Please.” His broad chest swelled as he took in a deep breath then released it. Leaning over, he put his hands on her breasts. 21

Hannah drew in a hard gasp, her skin tingling, the blood rushing through her body. He was hesitant at first, his touch gentle. Too gentle. She saw in his eyes that he was still wary of her. “Harder,” she whispered. His gray eyes widened. “What?” “Touch me harder.” He took in another long breath and released it. Then he gripped her breasts, his coarse thumbs rasping over her nipples. Pleasure oozed through Hannah’s body like honey, and she wriggled seductively within the ropes about her wrists. “Damn,” he whispered. “What’s wrong?” He licked his lips. “You sure about this?” “Sure about what?’ she replied teasingly. His eyes narrowed. “You know what,” he said gruffly, his big hands squeezing her breasts, his callused fingers pinching her nipples into a burning stiffness. “You can stop if you want.” She looked up into his eyes, her pulse pounding, her arms weakening in the ropes. “Or you can do whatever you want. Anything you want.” His blistering gaze swept across her bound body. “Anything?” “Except be inside me.” His eyes flicked back to her face. “I can’t poke you?” “No.” She tilted her head and smiled. “But anything else? Yes.” In truth, tied up as she was, if he wanted to do that, there was nothing she could do to stop him. But she trusted him. She had to trust him to have gone this far. And he was not the kind of man to take a woman against her will. At least she hoped he wasn’t. As he stared hotly at her bound and naked body she knew she was taking a big risk. He took off his hat and tossed it across the room, and once he realized she wasn’t fooling with him, that she truly wanted him to touch her while she was tied up, he used his lips and tongue and teeth, his work-roughened fingers and callused palms, to caress, tease and torment her to the shuddering, throbbing pinnacle of ecstasy. But they soon had to stop. In the distance came the sound of horses and the weary whoops and drunken singing of the returning hands. Lucas quickly untied her and barely made it back to the bunkhouse in time. Leaving Hannah wet, aching and hungry for more. That was when she came up with the idea of treating the hands to a once-a-month Saturday night in town, hotel accommodations bought and paid for by her. Once they were all gone, she spent that time tied up to her bed, enjoying Lucas’s tender and—at her eager urging—not-so-tender ministrations. Tonight, however, was different. As angry as he was with her, Hannah doubted he was going to be very tender. Her breath quickened at the thought, and she twisted in the ropes about her wrists, her body aching for that unbearably sweet bliss his touch always elicited from her. Sliding his gloved fingers over her chemise, he firmly molded and lifted her breasts. 22

Heat swelled within her cunny. He always knew just how to touch her; when to be gentle and when to be rough, just as he was when he worked with the wild mustangs. Tonight he was rough. He tugged and pinched her nipples until they were so stiff it hurt, then he slowly, achingly, rubbed his thumbs over them. Hannah’s throat tightened and her sex burned. Licking her lips, she blissfully closed her eyes. His touch was like magic. The darkest, most wicked magic. “Look at me.” She opened her eyes, responding instinctively to the harsh note of command in his voice. He ripped apart her chemise, exposing her breasts. Then he quickly lowered his head and slid his mouth around their warm fullness, his firm, hot lips slithering over her skin. Hannah sucked in a shaky, uneven breath. She loved it when he kissed her breasts. Unlike her late husband, who had not paid much attention to them, Lucas worshipped them. Gripping both her breasts, he pushed their satiny warmth up against his searching mouth. He licked and sucked them both, the tip of his long, pointed tongue flicking wetly over her nipples. Moaning, Hannah twisted within the ropes tied about her wrists. “Yes, oh, yes. Harder. Harder.” Lucas moved his mouth away from her breasts and took both her nipples between his fingers. Looking her in the eyes, he squeezed them. Her cunny swelled, the wetness dripping between her thighs. “Harder,” she whispered. He pinched them. Hard. The pain ripped through her like a wave of black heat. She thumped her head back against the post, her arms straining in the ropes. Oh, God help her, it felt so good! Lowering his head, he gripped one of her breasts with his mouth and slapped his wet tongue across the stiff nipple. She let go with a low, shuddering moan. “Don’t stop, oh, please, don’t stop.” He stepped away from her, his gray eyes regarding her coolly. “What are you doing?” she gasped. “Why did you stop?” “I suspect you forgot our little arrangement.” His voice was icy in the sticky warmth of the barn. “You don’t give the orders tonight. I do. And I’m gonna do to you what I want, how I want and when I want. Understand?” She blinked, not entirely surprised by his words. She’d offended him. The damage was done. He was hurt and he was angry. And his anger had her body riled to a fever pitch. What was it about men and women that they did such things to each other? He crossed his arms over his broad chest, a mocking smile twisting his lips. “You know what? I should leave.” He nodded. “Just like you told me to this morning. Leave you tied up like that until the boys come back from town.” He chuckled. “Wouldn’t that be a sight?” Hannah’s stomach clenched. She wouldn’t put it past him to do such a dastardly thing. And had he forgotten, or did he just not care, that the hands wouldn’t be returning to the ranch until the following night. “You wouldn’t dare!” 23

“Wouldn’t dare what?” His voice lashed out at her. “Cut a path out of here or leave you tied up?” “Both,” she snapped, glaring back at him. A flurry of emotions moved across his face. “No, I don’t think I’ll be doing that. Leave you tied up, I mean.” He gave her a sharp look, but she’d understood him well enough. He was still keeping open his intent on leaving the ranch. He looked back at her naked breasts, his eyes roving possessively over them. “Ain’t nobody going to look at those but me. Not any of them good-for-nothing suitors of yours and most especially not that sonofabitch Travers.” Hannah sighed. Samuel again. She supposed she should be happy that cursing Samuel was all Lucas was of a mind to do. Particularly in light of the fact that just a week ago Lucas almost shot him. She and Samuel had been strolling about the ranch during one of his visits. He sneakily slipped his arm about her waist and tried to kiss her, and he just happened to do so as Lucas had ridden in. Smoothly pulling his Winchester carbine from his saddle, Lucas pointed it at Samuel and threatened to blow a hole in his chest wide enough for the sun to shine through if he didn’t let go of her right then and there. Hannah, who had already wriggled away from Samuel’s impudent manhandling of her, ordered Lucas to put away his rifle. Especially when she saw out of the corner of her eye Samuel’s hand easing toward his gun belt. Lucas ignored her, and the situation could easily have gone from bad to worse, if she had not threatened to have them both removed from the ranch. Samuel slid his hand away from his gun belt. Lucas also put away his rifle, but he continued to scowl at Samuel, who tipped his hat to Hannah and took his leave of her. Although she had appreciated Lucas’s rather wild and wooly form of chivalry, she also made it clear she did not want him drawing guns on her guests. He only shrugged and told her he couldn’t promise her anything. She watched now as he reached into the pocket of his vest and took out a pack of rolling papers and a small bag of tobacco. “You’re going to smoke? Now?” His gray eyes narrowed, the long, dark lashes veiling his gaze. Then he lazily shrugged. “Why not? Seems as good a time as any.” He carefully rolled the cigarette and then, his eyes locked on hers, licked it, his long, supple tongue sliding along the paper the way it had slid so maddeningly over her breasts. She moaned softly, her nipples tingling at the sight. Noting her reaction, he chuckled and placed the cigarette between his lips. He dug around in his pocket for something to light it with. “You are not going to smoke in this barn,” she said firmly. He stopped fiddling with his pocket and shot a shadowy glance at her. “And how the hell you plan on stopping me?” His eyes flickered up to where her wrists were bound by the rope. “Why are you doing this?” she asked. But she knew why. She just wanted him to admit it. She wanted him to be man enough to tell her to her face she’d hurt him. 24

He flung the unlit cigarette on the floor and strode back over to her. His eyes burned into hers, and in them was such a raw, fierce hunger it frightened her. “You really don’t know, do you?” he said, his voice low and rough. “I can only know what you tell me.” He shook his head. “You’re a woman and women have a knack for knowing things that ain’t obvious. They ain’t much different from horses in that respect, I reckon.” “You give women, and horses, I dare say, too much credit, Mr. Chase.” He looked at her for a long moment, apparently having noticed she’d gone back to addressing him by his surname. “All right. I’ll tell you. I’m leaving. Tonight.” “But you can’t,” she blurted. He’d only been on the ranch a few months. But it felt as if he’d always been with her. His presence had become like the sun and the moon. Constant. Reassuring. Essential. A lump formed in her throat and, despite the ropes holding her up, she felt unsteady on her feet. But wasn’t this what she wanted? She’d forced his hand by accusing him of only wanting the Circle B and not her. “That’s your prerogative,” she said steadily, despite the painful pounding of her heart. “You’re certainly free to go whenever the fancy strikes you.” His eyes narrowed and the lust she’d seen in them fled as swiftly as a hawk across the evening sky. Now she saw only anger. “Damn right I can. And it’d be right convenient for you, wouldn’t it?” He waved his hand towards the barn door. “There’s plenty of ranches out there be glad to have a top foreman.” “I have no doubt,” she said softly. He was that good, and she was lucky to have gotten him. He stared at her. Judging from his expression he was taken aback by the change in her demeanor. He scuffed his boot across the ground. “Yeah, well. That’s what I’m gonna do.” She nodded, wondering if, perhaps, this was for the best after all. There was, however, something she needed to know. “Are you leaving on account of what I let you do to me?” She stopped, her throat tightening. “Do you think less of me because of it?” He slapped his palm on the pole near to her head. She jumped, the cracking sound echoing in her ear. “No, it ain’t because of that, goddamnit! I like doing those things to you, Lord help me. And I don’t think less of you because of it.” “I only ask because…” She stopped, recalling the awful words Broden had flung at her. “Men don’t seem to want a woman who—” “Knows what she wants and asks for it,” he finished for her. “Yes,” she whispered. “Then those men are fools.” He nodded at the look on her face. “I know the kind of man you’re talking about. Wants his wife not to have any natural-born needs. But when he wants to scratch his itch he goes into town and finds himself a whore. Does the things to her he should be doing with his woman.” Hannah stared at him, listening silently, her heart beating slow and steady. “The way I see it,” Lucas went on, his gray eyes gazing down into hers, “why should a man have to go and split a woman in two? Whore. Wife. Never made no sense to me.” 25

It had never made any sense to her either. But when she asked Broden to tie her up, he had reacted with disgust. Called her a harlot and then turned around and gone into town to be with his whore. “You ought to be married, Hannah.” Lucas lowered his head, his lips just inches from hers, his breath caressing her mouth. “A woman with needs like yours. You ought to marry me. But you won’t,” he said before she could speak. His face hardened and he stepped away from her. “You done made that clear. That’s why I’m leaving. If I can’t have you as my wife, then I can’t be around you.”

26

CHAPTER FOUR Hannah sighed. Judging from what he’d just said about understanding her needs, she’d also assumed he understood she wanted things to stay the way they were between them. But he was back at it. Marriage. “It’s like I told you earlier,” he went on. “You ought to have yourself some young’uns. So you’ll have someone to leave all this to.” An image of her cradling a baby to her breast appeared in Hannah’s mind. A baby with hair as dark as Lucas’s. And with that image came a sweet aching of longing and need and love. She shook her head, as much to clear away the vision as to emphasize her refusal. “I won’t marry. Not again. I can’t." Lucas’s jaw hardened. “It’s me you won’t marry. That’s what you mean. Ain’t it? I ain’t good enough for you.” Anger bit at her insides like a rat. “No! I won’t marry anyone!” “Why not?” He raised his voice to match hers. “Because of what your husband did? Poking whores?” He snorted. “Hell, if every woman used that as an excuse not to marry pretty soon no one would ever get hitched.” “It’s not just because of that.” She glared at him. As far as she was concerned, however, even he ought to be able to see that for any woman that was more than enough. “I swore when Broden died that no man was ever going to have dominion over me again.” Lucas barked a hard, loud laugh. “Dominion? Are you joshing? What do you call what I do to you when the boys are off in town?” “That’s different.” He stepped closer, his shirt chafing against her nipples. “In what way is it different? Tell me.” “It’s not every day you do that to me. It’s not all the time.” She swallowed thickly. The friction of his shirt against her breasts was causing a thick, delicious heat to flood through her. “So when the boys come back to the ranch, it’s business as usual. Is that it? You’re the boss lady. I’m just another hand.” “Of course.” She looked up at him, willing herself not to fall into the wild storm that was his eyes. How else could it be between them without her risking everything she’d struggled to hold on to since Broden’s death? The ranch. Her heart. “And you plan on remaining in charge as mistress of the Circle B. Except once a month. When it’s just you and me. You want things to stay as they are between us. You want me to be what that whore was to your husband. Well? That’s it, ain’t it?” She couldn’t answer him. She dared not answer him. Because she wanted him. Oh, yes, Lord, she wanted Lucas Chase. She wanted him with all that she was and all that she was going to be. She wanted him with all her heart and soul. But she’d rather have her tongue torn out of her mouth then tell him that. She had no doubt that once 27

he knew how she really felt about him, he’d abuse that knowledge. Break her heart with it. The same way Broden had. She’d trusted him. Given him everything. Her virginity, her loyalty, her love. And he had tossed it all away. Like so much trash. Everything she had given him so willingly, so innocently. Lucas’s face was flint again. “All right then, Mrs. O’Rourke. The boys are all liquored up and either losing that extra pay you gave them to some gad-about gambler or getting their brains fucked out of their skulls.” He smiled, but his lips curled up in a wolfish manner. “It’s just you and me, and I’m gonna give you what you want. For old time’s sake. Then when I’m done, I’m gonna leave you to your kingdom, your highness.” “Lucas–” He placed his gloved hand over her mouth. She tasted dust and sweat. “Hush up. I’m in charge tonight. Remember?” She studied his lean, sun-darkened face. He was going to master her. Just as he’d done the past couple months when she let him tie her to her bed. But the stakes were higher now. He was angry with her. And he had every right to be. She’d used him for her pleasure. The same way, she supposed, Broden had used that prostitute. And she’d used Lucas because she could not give him what he wanted. Her love. Even though—and the thought hit her like a thunderbolt—she’d loved him from the first moment she’d laid eyes on him. That moment had come in the middle of a cyclone. She’d been out that day with the hands tending to the cattle. The sky, which had been murky with clouds, went from a grayish-black to a sinister coppery green, and the wind, which had been blowing fiercely, stopped. Except for the quiet muttering of the cowboys and the anxious lowing of the cattle, there was nothing but silence. Suddenly, from out of the sky, a lightning topped funnel spiraled to the ground. Furrowed with trees and bushes and dust, it howled towards the cattle. Panic spread through the herd and, most alarming, through the hands. Most of them were young. Too young. Hannah had soon learned that the more experienced cowboys usually weren’t willing to work for a woman. Especially one as young as she was. As for her foreman at the time, a ne'er-do-well by the name of Jed Billings, he was back at the bunkhouse snoring off another drinking binge. The cattle raced away from the twister in a blind panic. Hannah was of a mind to join them. Faced with the awesome power of the tornado, a pale-hearted terror seized her. However, in spite of the fear burning a hole in her stomach, and the dust choking her mouth and nose, she forced her horse around towards her cattle and her hands, with no idea whatsoever as to what she was going to do to save them. And then, seemingly from out nowhere, had come Lucas Chase. Riding towards the panicking cattle, his horse galloping full-out, its hooves flinging clods of earth behind it, he spared her a glance as he rode past. Then he quickly left her behind, roaring out orders, his powerful voice cutting through the hideous roar of the storm. The twister lasted only minutes, but to Hannah it seemed like hours. As unpredictable as a skittish 28

kitten, it hopped along the ground flinging cattle left and right, then suddenly spiraled back up to the sky, sailing harmlessly along, only to descend back to the earth and recommence its slaughtering. Afterwards, when the storm had passed, and the majority of her cattle were safe, and the cowboys, all of whom survived, were in the bunkhouse cheerfully recounting their brush with death, Hannah learned that it was Mrs. Foxton who had directed Lucas to where she was when he showed up at the ranch asking for her. But as Hannah stood on her porch, and Lucas sat on his horse waiting for her response to his offer that he become foreman of the Circle B, her initial thought had been to send him packing, his having saved her cattle and the lives of her hands notwithstanding. There was a tough, almost feral bearing about him that gave her pause. He’d impressed her with the swift and sure manner in which he’d taken control during the tornado. But men like him usually didn’t like being told what to do. Especially by a woman. But she didn’t send him packing. And it wasn’t because—despite the vicious gossip that followed—that as disheveled and scruffylooking as he was, having ridden days to get to the ranch and then spending the last few hours seeing to her cattle, he was the most devilishly attractive man she’d ever seen. And it also wasn’t on account of her having just fired her foreman. The rascal had protested, but one look at Lucas riding up on his horse and he quickly backed down. In fact, he left the ranch so fast he forgot to take his few belongings. No, that day as Hannah had stood in front of her house, negotiating with Lucas as to how much she was going to pay him versus how much he insisted he was worth, there’d been no patronizing look in his gray eyes, no barely-concealed smirk on his handsome face. He hadn’t looked at her as just a piece of calico. That day they had bargained as equals. So she hired him, without any idea at the time as to what kind of man he was going to prove himself to be. And that first time in her bedroom, when she asked him to tie her up, when she had lain naked beneath him, trussed up as tightly as one of her cattle, the light of her bedside lamp warm on his sun-browned face, his gray eyes as soft as the breast of a dove, his work-hardened palms moving slow and easy over her body until, breathless with desire, feverish with lust, she had begged him, pleaded with him, provoked him to lay his hands hard upon her flesh, he became more than just one of the cowboys on her ranch. Giving, she supposed, credence to the vicious gossip. He stared down at her now in the gloom of the barn, its interior lit only by that single lamp she’d brought with her from the house, his jaw set, his eyes hooded. He loomed over her, tall and strong and utterly masculine. And dangerous. So very dangerous. Hannah’s pulse quickened. As much with lust as with fear. He took off his gloves and tossed them on the ground. Then he roughly pulled up her dress, bunching it around her hips. Beneath it she wore her drawers. The lacy, frilly ones he liked so much. When he had her tied up on the bed, he’d slowly remove all of her underclothing, crooning low, soft sounds of appreciation as he did. Now he just seized her drawers and roughly jerked them down her legs. He put his hand on her sex and slowly, but thoroughly, began to fondle her, his fingers sliding deep inside her. 29

Hannah’s belly quivered and her cunny flamed with lustful desire. Slamming her head back against the post, she twisted in the ropes about her wrists. “Feels good, don’t it?” Lucas whispered. “Your sweet, juicy cunny.” He lowered his head, sucked one of her breasts into his mouth and vigorously licked the throbbing nipple. He stroked her sex until she was on the thin, shuddering cusp of ecstasy. Then, just as she was about to fall headlong into a frenzy of bliss, he moved his hand away. She drew in a quivering gasp, her body shaking from the stinging nearness of her orgasm. “Why did you stop?” “You know why.” His eyes burned into hers. “You like it this way. You showed me that. You like it to hurt.” Yes, she liked it to hurt. She had no idea why. But for her pain was as much a part of sex as pleasure. Broden had not understood that. In his mind she was supposed to be wholly upstanding and totally respectable. No decent woman would want done to her what she had asked him to do. And it also didn’t help that she had proven not to be the demure and docile young woman he had planned to fashion into what he thought a proper wife should be. But Lucas had understood. He’d willingly gone along when she had asked him to tie her up and lay his hands on her. He grabbed her chin and forced her face up toward his. “You vex me something awful, Hannah O’Rourke. You make me feel things. Do things. Things that agitate me. Excite me. I ain’t never met a woman like you.” His eyes took on a haunted look. “Why won’t you love me?” Grief swelled in Hannah’s chest as tears stung the edges of her eyes. She did love him. Very much so. But she was too much of a coward to tell him. Too afraid of what he would do to her if he knew. Afraid of the possibility on his part of betrayal and unfaithfulness that such a confession of her true feelings could set her up for. When she remained silent, the haunted look fled Lucas’s eyes, and raw hurt and anger glittered in them now. He pushed her dress back up around her hips with one hand and grabbed her buttocks with the other. He stroked and fondled her cunny, his fingers delving deep inside the moist folds. “You’re so soft. So wet.” He rubbed the curved, smooth cheeks of her rear, his callused palm chafing her flesh. “I do believe, Mrs. O’Rourke, you’re about to go off.” She frowned even as her body responded to his fingers moving deep inside her. “Go off? What do you mean?” “Remember when I brought those fireworks back to the ranch and me and the boys set them off?” He repositioned his hand and his thumb slowly caressed her pleasure bud. Hannah’s throat tightened. “Remember?” he repeated, his voice insistent, his thumb stroking her towards her crest. “Yes. I…oh, God…yes…I remember.” He moved his face close to hers. His breath, which still smelled faintly of whiskey, fanned across her face. “And when those rockets went off,” he whispered huskily. “All that fire and thunder and those pretty, pretty lights.” He pressed his lips against her ear, the tip of his tongue flicking wetly along the edge, her pleasure bud 30

now an inferno beneath his ravaging thumb. “Blooming against the sky like a field of heavenly flowers,” he murmured, kissing her ear. Hannah’s hips jerked as her climax swelled in her womb, just like those fireworks bursting apart in the night sky. She bit her lip, determined not to let him know how close she was this time. He pressed his thumb against her bud. Her heart pitched drunkenly in her chest and she rotated her hips against his hand. Yes, yes, now, oh, God, yes! He pulled his hand away. She cried out, jerking her hands against the rope, her hips rocking as she tried to make herself come. Lucas lifted the hand he’d been fondling her sex with and sniffed his fingers. “Hmmm. I wonder if any of those fellers who come calling on you could get you so riled up. Wonder if ole Sam Travers could.” A sneer twisted his face. “Him and his slick talk, his duded up clothes, and that pearl-handled pistol he probably won off a pimp in a crooked game of faro.” Hannah glared at him. “You’re a bastard, Lucas Chase.” He grinned devilishly. “That may well be since I wouldn’t know my Pa from Adam.” “And I hate you,” she added hotly, and at that moment she did, in fact, hate him, if only because he knew her well enough to figure out how to rile her up as he called it. He shook his head. “That ain’t true.” “Are you so sure about that?” He smiled cunningly. “I know what I am, Mrs. O’Rourke. I’m the baseborn bastard who wants to have his wicked way with the lady of the manor.” He laughed at the expression on her face. “Yeah, I’ve had a book or two read to me.” He put his hands on her breasts and slowly rubbed them, his coarse thumbs scraping across her nipples as he coaxed them back to ripeness. Hannah gasped, splinters of lust radiating from her nipples and down to her cunny. Lowering his face, Lucas nuzzled her neck, the stubble on his jaw rasping against her feverish skin. “I can’t say…” she gasped, drawing in a shaky breath as he continued to kiss her throat and fondle her breasts. “…that I think much of your taste in literature.” He laughed. “You want me to have my wicked way with you,” he whispered. “Oh, yeah, my lady of the manor. You want me to fuck you.” Despite herself, she moaned at his words. He chuckled at the sound. Then he leaned over and bit her neck. Hannah cried out, that black heat of lust and pain burning through her. “And I want to fuck you,” he went on huskily. “I want to fuck you so bad it’s like a fever in my blood. I want to make you mine. All mine.” His rough fingers slid over her breasts, and he pinched her swollen nipples. “I want to ride that soft, sweet cunny. I want to fuck that cunny till you scream. I want to make you come so hard you see heaven in all its glory.” He bit her throat again, then licked the throbbing mark he’d left on her skin. Hannah moaned as she hung limply in the ropes snug about her wrists. Her throat burned from where Lucas had bit her, but the pain was sweetly dark. “Yeah, darling,” he whispered, his breath hot against her neck. “I know what you need. What you want. What you ache for. Can any man give you that but me?” 31

He lowered his head and wrapped his mouth around her breast, his moist tongue and hard teeth working the stiff nipple. Hannah shuddered, her hips rolling against the post. He was right. She doubted any man could give her what he did. Deftly licking her nipple, Lucas stroked the tender bud of her sex with his finger. She twisted against the post, lust flooding through her like water in a creek after a spring flood. “Please, Lucas, please, I want to come. Please!” His teeth and tongue ravished her breast while his finger savaged her tender bud. Her body was afire with desire. She needed to come. Ached to come. On his hands, his mouth, his cock. She didn’t care. She just wanted to come. “Lucas, please!” He pulled his mouth and hand away from her. She cried out, her body once again denied that glorious peak of pleasure. Even as she wanted to curse Lucas for what he was doing to her, she also felt a soaring euphoria. Every time he brought her to that thin, straining edge of ecstasy, then denied her, it hurt. But the pain only fueled her lust. The fire in her cunny was now an inferno, and she could only imagine what it would be like when she finally did come. That is, if Lucas let her. He walked over to a nearby stall and grabbed a bullwhip that hung from a hook. He was an expert with that whip. She’d seen him use it when he was herding cattle or working the horses. "What are you going to do with that?" she asked. He swung the whip and it uncoiled with a crackling snap. The sound of it sent a shiver up her spine. A frightfully delicious shiver. Would he whip her? She’d sometimes dreamt that he had. "Guess,” he said. He walked back over to her, shoved the handle of the whip up under her dress and stroked it over her swollen bud. A bolt of heat shot through her. Not quite what she had expected, but delightful all the same. She threw her head back, banging it against the post. He slithered the hard, cool bulb of the handle across the moist lips of her cunny. "Feels good, don't it?" That was an understatement. It felt incredible. She twisted her head back and forth. “Yes, oh, yes.” He leisurely stroked the handle around her cunny, slipping and sliding it over her hot moistness. “Tell me,” he murmured, his eyes boring into hers. “Tell me what you want me to do with it.” Her heart thumped hard in her chest. Dare she say it? “Inside. Put it inside me.” He grinned and bit by bit pushed the handle of the whip between the folds of her sex. Hannah groaned as its thickness slowly filled her. Would Broden have ever done such a thing to her? She doubted it. Lucas swirled the hard knob of the handle deep into her wetness. Then he withdrew it and stroked it deliberately over her burning pearl of flesh. Helpless pants of pleasure escaped from Hannah’s mouth as she lustfully rolled her hips against the bullwhip’s handle. She felt so shamelessly wanton, so disgracefully wicked. Lucas lowered his head and sucked one of her nipples deep into his mouth, sturdily licking the hard nub even as he continued to stroke the whip’s handle against her. 32

Hannah twisted against the post, the rope about her wrists deeply chafing her skin, the pain kindling her desire. Her hips jerked hard as she felt her orgasm once again rising. She bit her lip and stifled back a moan. She did not want Lucas to know she was about to come. He moved the whip handle away from her sex. "Nope. You ain’t going to come. Not yet. Not till I say you can. I ain’t going to do anything to you that you don’t want me to do. But I ain’t going to give you that. Not yet anyway." Her hips shuddered helplessly. Her need to come was a burning pulse in her body. Powerful and undeniable. “Lucas, please, please.” He kissed her, silencing her pleading words, capturing her trembling mouth with savage force. Thrusting his tongue between her lips, he twisted his head every which way as he thoroughly ravished her mouth. Hannah’s knees weakened as did her resolve. He could do whatever he wanted to her when he kissed her like this; when he made her feel as if nothing existed but her mouth on his. With a deep moan that shook her entire body, Hannah fiercely coupled her tongue with his, twisting it about with the same dark, possessive need. Lucas kissed her harder, driving the breath from her body, and the only thing keeping her up was the ropes about her wrists and his arms about her waist. Breaking the kiss, he pulled away, dropped to his knees and pushed her dress up around her hips. Her drawers were pooled around her feet so her sex lay open to him. He pushed the whip handle back up inside her. The thick shaft slid between her jutting lips and her swollen sex clutched desperately at it. Lucas’s hot breath beat against her thighs as he fucked her with the whip. She’d self-pleasured on occasion, but then she’d only used her hands. This was like having a man’s cock inside her. Something she’d not experienced since her husband’s death. “Yes, yes, yes” she gasped with each powerful thrust of the thick handle into her sex. “Harder, harder.” It hurt so bad. It felt so good. And, as always, pain and pleasure blurred into one all-embracing, delicious sensation as Lucas relentlessly and mercilessly drove her to that unbearably sweet pinnacle of bliss. Her body shuddered in passionate anticipation. He pulled the whip handle out of her. “No, not yet.” Twisting hysterically in the ropes, Hannah let loose with a long, piercing wail, her need once again denied. “Lucas, please!” He dropped the whip, slid one muscular arm around her buttocks and jerked her hips close to his face. He pushed two fingers inside her cunny. Steadily stroking his fingers inside her, he lowered his mouth to her sex and flicked his tongue along her stinging nether lips, nuzzling and burrowing his mouth against her cunny until he found her bud. Once he had it firmly between his lips, he licked it while his fingers continued to work inside her, pressing steadily upward into her heated core. Hannah’s mind spun dizzyingly, her body burning from head to toe as Lucas’s quicksilver tongue nimbly licked her tiny pearl of pleasure. Eyes opened wide, she tugged at the rope about her wrists, her breath coming short and fast as if she were starved for air. 33

He was a magician when it came to his tongue, as he had proven time and again when she had been under his hands. He’d drawn out her pleasure for the longest, most excruciating moments, skillfully using his tongue, along with his hands and teeth, until, finally, when she thought she could no longer bear it, he bestowed upon her trembling body climaxes so strong they’d nearly stopped her heart. Tonight, however, she had no idea when he was going to let her finally come. Or, bearing in mind how cross he was with her, if he even would.

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CHAPTER FIVE Judging by the way Lucas was moaning as he thrust his fingers inside her and licked and sucked her sex, he was so involved in pleasuring her, Hannah was tempted to rub herself against his mouth. But she feared he would stop what he was doing if she did. So she remained still, her heart pounding, the heat racing along her cunny like fire along a gunpowder track. Lucas slid his fingers out of her and clasped her buttocks with both hands. Pulling her firmly against his mouth, he plunged his tongue deep between the tender folds. Hannah’s hips shook and she bit back a moan. She felt Lucas moving his head. Fearing he was going to pull away again, she pressed her sex against his face. But he had only moved his head so his tongue could dig deeper inside her. In and out it darted, driving her to her glorious peak of pleasure. “Lucas!” Her hips bumping madly against the post, Hannah exploded. And, since Lucas had already teased her to the point of madness, the orgasm that gripped her was the most powerful she’d ever had. It was like those fireworks he had talked about. Lightning and fire and heavenly flowers. The climax ripped through her body, and the titanic force of it nearly made her faint. Her cunny jolted with each searing wave, and those waves came one after another after another. She twisted in the ropes about her wrists, her mind consumed by carnal pleasure, her body swept up in the perfect bliss of the rhythmically pulsing orgasms. His tongue still thrusting inside her, Lucas squashed his fingers deep into the flesh of her quivering buttocks, but the pain she felt only added to her ecstasy. He held firmly onto her shuddering body, the same way she’d watch him hold onto a struggling calf during branding time. “Lucas,” she cried again. “Oh, my darling!” Groaning thickly, he pulled away from her and rose from his knees. He stared down at her, his eyes hot, his handsome face rigid with lust. He reached up and quickly undid the rope from about her wrists. Hannah lowered her arms. They prickled as the blood rushed back into them. She gingerly rubbed her reddened wrists even as aftershocks from her orgasms continued to ripple through her body. However, before she could draw a breath, take a step, or say a word, Lucas grabbed her and pulled her away from the post. She stumbled over her drawers where they lay on the ground. Keeping a firm grip on her, he dragged her over to a stall in which was heaped a pile of hay and threw her down on it. It was hot inside the barn, and Hannah’s breath came in shallow pants, her nose ticklish with the bristly smell of the hay. As she watched, Lucas quickly took off his clothes. She stared up at him. It was the first time she’d ever seen him naked. In the soft, dim glow of the lamp, she let her eyes rove over him. His body was strong and hard; the chest wide, the hips lean, the thighs smoothly muscled, his long legs slightly bowed, typical of men who spent most of their waking hours in the saddle, and his cock, which was heavy and long and ridged with thick veins, surged upward from the dark, curly hair of his groin. “See what you do to me?” His voice was raw and harsh and pained. “You see why I gotta leave? You 35

want me to give you what you want, but you ain’t much inclined to return the favor. You’re driving me mad, Hannah.” His gray eyes smoldered, his lips still moist with her wetness, his high-bridged nose flaring as if he were scenting her feminine musk. In the gloom of the barn, lit only by that single lamp she’d brought with her, he looked fierce and dangerous, and she could not help but feel that she was in the presence of some wild animal. He threw himself on top of her. She lay still beneath him, her belly trembling with a mixture of fear and desire. Yanking violently at her clothes, he pulled off her dress, her chemise, everything she wore. And his hands were not gentle as he did so. They were hot, hard, greedy, and he grunted and groaned whenever his hands touched her naked flesh. When she was finally undressed, her clothes scattered across the hay, he grabbed one of her breasts and scoured his callused palm over the stiff nipple, rasping it roughly. Barbs of lust darted through Hannah’s body, and she shivered beneath him. His touch never failed to kindle her, and she ached for it during those times when they had to pretend there was nothing between them than she being the owner of the Circle B and he her foreman. Lucas stared down at her, his hard body pushing her deeper into the hay, his big, rough hands gripping her breasts, the fingers pinching and rubbing her nipples. His gray eyes burned like smoking coals, his lustful gaze riveted on her face then, slowly, it moved down her naked body. Hannah’s heart hammered in her ears. The other times they’d been together, despite her being tied up, she’d always felt in control. Not this time. And she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea. “Lucas, I—” He kissed her, silencing her words, his mouth once again riding hers hard. He kissed her so fiercely, in fact, he literally took her breath away. His tongue invaded her mouth, thrusting deep inside it, the stubble of his beard scouring her cheek and chin. Hannah sank into the scratchy heap of hay beneath her, Lucas’s body hard on hers, and she moaned throatily as he crushed her lips with his, her thoughts ablaze as his hands squeezed her tender breasts. His cock lay thick and hot against her thigh, and she was well aware that all she had to do was spread her legs and he’d be inside her. The heat of his body told her he was on the edge. That he wanted her. And that, if he was of a mind to, he would, in fact, fuck her. But was she ready for that? As he ravaged her mouth with his, his fingers twisting her distended nipples, the moist flesh of his naked body sliding against hers, he was definitely driving her into a frenzy. But she was still wary of going that far with him. She tried to break away from his kiss, but he would not let her go. When she attempted to roll her body to free herself, he grabbed her wrists and pushed them above her head, holding her firmly down. His swollen cock was now snuggled deeply between her thighs, and the bulbous head brushed against the soft lips of her sex. Hannah whimpered against his mouth. At the sound, Lucas quickly lifted his head and looked down at her. His eyes were like storm clouds, the handsome lines of his face as hard as granite. She almost didn’t recognize him. He looked like some brutish creature intent only on possession and domination. And she couldn’t help but think she’d made him so when she let him tie her up and put his 36

hands on her. “I meant when I said,” he growled. “I’m leaving. But before I do, I intend on having you. You understand? I’m gonna give you a taste of what you’re gonna be missing when I’m gone.” Hannah’s heart lurched in her chest and she swallowed thickly. “I thought you said you wouldn’t take from me what I didn’t give you.” His eyes narrowed, and a flicker of what looked like guilt swept across his face. “I did say that. And I meant it. I ain’t the kind of man who’d forced himself on a woman. But you want it. Tell me you don’t want me to have you.” She gazed up at him. She did want him to have her. She’d wanted that since the first night he put his hands on her. But even if she didn’t want to do it tonight, there was nothing she could do to stop him. He was stronger than she was, they were all alone on the ranch, and if he wanted to have her, he could. But after he was done, after he’d had her, he said he was going to leave her, and if he did, what would she be left with? “Lucas—” He kissed her again, smothering her words. Pushing his tongue deep into her mouth, he grunted, a sound halfway between a moan and a growl. Hannah squirmed beneath him, his cock slipping and sliding between her thighs. She fought him, but only because resisting him fueled her lust in a way she’d never imagined it would. They struggled passionately on the hay, their naked bodies sliding moistly against each other in the warm air of the barn. Breaking their kiss, Lucas gripped both her wrists with one hand. The other he slid down her body and cupped her breast, catching the rigid nipple between his fingers. He pinched it. Hard. Hannah screamed, a passionate cry of both pain and pleasure. Lucas’s cock edged between her legs. The warm head of it pressed against the swollen lips of her sex. He stared down at her, the pupils of his eyes so large the blackness had all but swallowed the gray. She sensed the struggle in him, the need to sheathe his cock inside her, to possess her in a way that was as deep-rooted as the turning of the world. His heart beat hard against her breasts, while Hannah’s own pulse hammered in her ears. He held her wrists firmly against the hay, trapping her body beneath his, the head of his cock pressing against the entrance to her sex, but he didn’t move. He remained still, his breath feathering her cheek. He wasn’t going to force himself on her. Even now, as close as he’d ever been to having her, he wasn’t going to take her against her will. He was waiting for her to say no. Or yes. Either way it would be her choice. As it had always been. As it had been when it came to his tying her up and laying his hands on her, and when it came to marrying him or any other man. Her choice. 37

Always. Lifting her hips, Hannah pushed the lips of her cunny around the head of his cock and took Lucas inside her. He groaned, long and hard, and then slowly, ever so slowly, he thrust the whole hot stiff length of his cock into her sex. Hannah gasped. It had been so long since she’d had a man inside her. She moaned as Lucas’s cock thoroughly penetrated her. Slowly, he withdrew from her, his cock sliding between her moist nether lips. Then, with a hard lunge of his lean hips, he shoved himself back inside her. Then he began a sturdy, driving rhythm, his breath coming in hot, harsh pants. She gazed breathlessly up at him, her body juddering helplessly under his powerful thrusts. His wide brow was furrowed, his eyes closed, his lips pulled back from his teeth. “Mine,” he growled as he wetly shoved his cock deep inside her cunny. “Mine. All mine.” He took hold of her wrists with both his hands, spreading her arms above her head, holding her firmly down against the hay. It scratched and pricked and tickled her back and buttocks. He fucked her like a man possessed, the coarse base of his cock beating steadily against her tiny nub, causing it to swell and burn. Lowering his head, he caught her nipple in his mouth and bit the swollen nub. A black heat swept through Hannah’s body. “Lucas!” He growled around her breast and sucked it hard into his mouth, plunging his cock faster and deeper inside her. The pain and pleasure consumed her, and her eyes rolled back into her head. “Harder, oh, harder!” she cried “Hurt me, Lucas, please!” He lifted his head from her wet breast and cursed, but his grip about her wrists did not lessen. Arching his powerful body, he speared the moist heat of her sex with long, juicy strokes that made her groan and thrash beneath him. He pounded fiercely into her, holding nothing back. And as he fucked her, the pleasure swelled inside her, and with every stroke of his pounding cock he drove her nearer and nearer to the peak of her release. Lifting her legs, she wrapped them firmly around his waist, her ankles linking about his wildly thrusting buttocks. He groaned, pressed his face against her neck and shoved his stiff cock harder into her sex. Hannah’s eyelids quivered, her body quaking as her orgasm gushed through her like a hot flood. She cried out as it seized her like some great and terrible beast, shaking her body like a rag doll, as Lucas continued to thrust fiercely inside her. His cock pulsed and his lips, which were pressed against her neck, trembled. Shuddering violently, his hands gripping her wrists so hard she feared he would break them, his climax claimed him, and he snarled and sank his teeth into her shoulder. Red-black waves of pain surged through Hannah’s body. “Again!” she screamed. “Oh, God, please, again!” Lucas growled something in response, but he did as she pleaded. He bit her again. Another surge of pain ripped through Hannah’s body, and she climaxed again, and as she did she wailed, her cries echoing through the barn, and she clung to Lucas’s strong body as if it were a spar on storm-tossed waters. And it was long, long moments before that heaving ocean of lust inside her finally calmed. Lucas slowly lifted his head from her shoulder. In the gloom of the barn his features were shadowed, his eyes shrouded. Sweat glimmered on his face, his neck and across his broad shoulders.. 38

She wanted to reach up and stroke his face, thread her fingers through his dark, tangled hair, but his hand was still clasped firmly about her wrists, his body pressing her into the dampened hay beneath them. “I’m sorry.” She blinked. She wasn’t sure she’d heard him. There was still a roaring in her ears, like the sound from a seashell. “What?” He glanced at the bite marks he’d left on her neck and shoulder. “I’m sorry I bit you.” She was surprised by his remark. He’d bitten her before when he’d had her trussed up. On her thighs, her buttocks, her breasts. He hadn’t made a fuss of it then and neither had she. “I’m not,” she said smiling. He didn’t return her smile. He just stared at her. “You must think I’m some kind of animal.” She tilted her head and gazed seductively up at him. “Yes, you most certainly are an animal. A veritable beast.” “No.” He frowned, his eyes darkening. “I ain’t. That’s what you want me to be, but I ain’t.” It was her turn to frown, her stomach knotting, and a familiar, unsettling feeling rose inside her, and she recalled what Broden had called her that night she asked him to tie her up. Harlot. “What do you mean?” Her words were clipped, her voice short, but it was because of her fear of what he was about to say regarding her needs. He let go of her wrists, slowly slid his cock out of her then lay next to her on the pile of hay. He released a deep breath as he stared up at the roof of the barn. “That first night I tied you up. When I came back from town and you were standing in your bedroom window looking like some vision of heaven.” He stopped and shook his head. “You took off your nightgown and showed yourself to me.” He whistled softly “Lord have mercy. The yearning for you came down on me like rapture on a bound-for-glory preacher. “So I went into the house and up to your room. I didn't even know I had my rope in my hands until you told me what you wanted me to do with it.” His eyes narrowed. “I was an animal that night. I did things to you…things I ain’t never done to no woman. Never even thought of doing.” He turned his head and gazed solemnly at her. “But you asked me to do those things to you. Begged me to. So I did. I tied you up and I rode my hands hard on you. Left my brand on you.” He glanced at the bite mark on her shoulder. “You gotta hate me, Hannah. For what I did to you that night. For what I done to you just now. You gotta hate me.” “Lucas, would I have asked you to do those things to me if I truly hated you?” “I don’t know. I don’t understand you sometimes. Hell, I don’t understand me. I don’t want to hurt you.” He shook his head as if he were trying to shake it free of something worrisome. “But I also want to hurt you.” His eyes took on a haunted look. “After we’re done, I feel bad. I don’t let on to you that I do, cause you’re so happy afterwards. And I want you to be happy. But I can’t help it neither. I feel bad about hurting you.” She reached over and cupped his face. “Don’t, Lucas. Don’t ever feel bad about what you do to me. You’ve given me something I thought I’d never get from any man. Acceptance for who I am and what I need.” “You mean that? Truly?” 39

She smiled and ran her fingers along the dark stubble on his jaw. “Yes, truly. Please, don’t ever feel bad about what you do to me.” He took hold of her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. Warmth spread like honey through her body, and she knew, in that moment, she was lucky to have found a man like Lucas Chase. He lowered her fingers from his lips, but kept hold of her hand, his eyes gazing deeply into hers. “So, you gonna marry me now?” Hannah jerked. “What?” “I done had you. I done made you mine.” That was certainly true. He’d had her in the most primal way a man could lay claim to a woman. But marriage? That was something else entirely. “I thought you were leaving,” she said. He chuckled and rubbed his callused fingers over her knuckles. “Now, Hannah, darling, think on it clear. What man in his right mind would ever leave a woman like you?” Then he grinned. “Especially after having tasted a honeycomb as sweet as yours.” She was touched by his words, but like shadows in the sunlight the old doubts swelled within her. She pulled her hand away from his. “You say you want to marry me, Lucas, but how do I know it’s me you really want.” He frowned, a muscle flicking along his jaw. “Because I done told you,” His voice rose in the barn. “I done showed you.” “But how do I know?” she cried. He cut his hand through the air. “Hellfire! I don’t know how you’re gonna know! I’d marry you if all you had was a trim of calico and a rusted-up cooking pot. But you’re the mistress of the Circle B. Are you willing to give all that up so that you’ll know it’s you and only you that I want?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. “ Cause I know what you’re thinking,” he went on, his voice coming hard and fast. “That all I want is this here ranch. Well, that may be true of all those others who come a calling on you. But it ain’t true of me.” He leaned closer to her. “And answer me this, Mrs. O’Rourke, and answer it true. When Broden asked you to marry him, can you say on God’s own truth that you weren’t thinking about this here ranch of his when you said yes?” She blinked, startled as much by his insight as by the fact he was right. She had been thinking of Broden’s ranch and the financial security it could give her. She had, after all, been living as a penniless charge in her aunt and uncle’s house. But it wasn’t just the money. The ranch had also given her something she’d wanted for a long time. A place to set down roots, to call home and to fill, someday, with children. Back in Boston, Hannah had grown up in Beacon Hill among lawyers, professors and financers. Educated, cultured men who smelled of cigar smoke, Eau de Quinine hair tonic and talked about the three things that mattered most to them: money, God and knowledge. They were men like Samuel Travers, whom she suspected was a harbinger of the kind of man the West was going to need. Genteel, cultured, and civilized. She’d felt at ease among such men. That is, until her father lost all his money and abandoned her and her mother, who committed suicide soon after. Hannah was left alone in the world; a beautiful, if impoverished young woman. She eventually went to live with her aunt and uncle, where she was pitied and shunned by the society that had once graciously 40

embraced her. Her late husband, despite his Irish background and humble beginnings, had refused to let Boston society get under his skin. It was one of the qualities that had drawn Hannah to him when she met him that early autumn evening during one of her aunt’s soirées. Broden had come back East on business, and Hannah’s aunt, possessing a bit of a rebellious streak inside her bony body, took it upon herself, despite the vicious gossip that followed, to invite the brash Irishman to her home. Broden O’Rourke had become wealthy raising cattle, and he made damn sure the Boston Brahmins knew it. He had strode confidently down the brick sidewalks that faced the cobblestoned streets, and he had boldly entered the dignified houses with the tall narrow windows, wrought iron railings, and overstuffed drawing rooms. Hannah tried to imagine Lucas in such a room; the dark, heavy furniture, the gold and silver bird cages, the fanciful Grecian landscape paintings in their ornamental gold frames. He was handsome enough that in the right clothing, and if he kept his mouth shut, he would have fit right in. But Lucas was a cowboy. And he wasn’t genteel or cultured or refined. He was plain-spoken, roughedged, and wild. He was a symbol of that part of the West that was dying as it became more civilized. He’d never gone to school, but he could tell her when a storm was coming by the way the cattle were acting. He was tender with the sick or motherless calves, but stern with the hands when the situation called for it. Prone to pulling pranks and telling bawdy jokes, he was reticent almost to the point of rudeness when it came to anything personal about him. She’d seen him use the same lariat he’d tied her to the post with to pull panicked cows out of quagmires and had once watched him ride a bronc so hard blood had streamed from his mouth and ears. He was a man in every way, shape and manner. He had proven it on her ranch, and he had proven it in her bed. Tying her up when she asked him to, kissing and caressing her body with his warm, moist mouth and his hot, rough hands. He nodded as she remained silent. “You ain’t never gonna really know if a man wants you or just the ranch. Hell, he may want both. You’re just going to have to trust that when he says he cares for you he does. You’re just going to have to trust me.” Hannah bit her lower lip. Trust was a word easily spoken but hard to put stock in. Her mother had trusted her father, but he left her when the going got tough. She had trusted in Broden, but he betrayed her when the world didn’t spin the way he thought it should. She trusted Lucas to look after the hands, the cattle, her ranch. But trust him with her heart? She didn’t think she could do that. Not when she was so scared of another man hurting her the way Broden had, and the way her father had when he’d left her and her mother. She didn’t know if she was strong enough to deal with that kind of pain again. It just seemed easier not to even go down that path. “I’m sorry, Lucas. I can’t marry you.” He rolled off his side and crouched over her like a wolf that had just brought down its prey. “And why not?” His gray eyes burned into hers, his strong, muscular arms caging her. “Why won’t you marry me? And tell the truth, Hannah. Is it because I can’t read? Or I ain’t flush? Or whatever it is you want in a man?” His eyes narrowed. “It’s him, ain’t it. You’re going to marry him.” “What? Marry who?” 41

“Travers,” he snarled. “He’s nothing but a far tongue liar. I’m surprised you can’t see that. That’s why you asked me to leave this morning. You’re gonna marry him. And you want me out of the way so you can do so. That’s why you let him kiss you that day I came upon you two.” “I did not let him kiss me,” Hannah snapped. “I didn’t let him do anything to me. Whatever he did, he took it upon himself to do it.” Lucas glared down at her, his face twisted with fury. “I should have shot that sonofabitch when I had the chance. And I still just might.”

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CHAPTER SIX Hannah stared up at Lucas, startled but not entirely surprised by his words. Of course he’d assume she’d marry someone like Samuel. He’d been educated back East and was very much like the men she’d grown up around in Boston. But Lucas was wrong. She knew Samuel for what he was. It hadn’t taken long for his true intentions towards her to become clear. His wooing of her was being carefully orchestrated by his father, who’d made no secret of his desire to bring the Circle B within his own vast holdings. He’d even proposed to her once, either ignoring or not caring that he was forty years older than she was. But any thought of marrying Samuel, or his father for that matter, had been like the flight of a sparrow across the noonday sky. Noticed but barely acknowledged. Because she knew, despite all her words to the contrary, there was only one man she wanted to marry. If, that is, she ever found the courage to do so. Lucas hadn’t judged her or condemned her when she’d asked him to tie her up. He’d confessed that he felt bad about it afterwards, but he also enjoyed it. There was no doubt in her mind about that. She looked up at him. At his dove-gray eyes, black as midnight hair and sun-bronzed face. He was a fine-looking man, and she couldn’t help but be drawn to his masculine beauty. But he was more than just a handsome face and a strong body. He was everything about the West she’d come to love. It hadn’t been easy leaving Boston and everything she’d known to come out to this strange land. And after Broden died, it had taken all of her courage not to run back East. Or do as her mother had done when her father left them. Slip into a laudanum induced fantasy until the pain of living became too much and her mother finally died from grief. No, Hannah had not done that. She had remained at the Circle B, and she had struggled, and she had prospered. And because she had stayed, this tough, fierce, profoundly tender man had come into her life. And she knew she was blessed mightily as a result. There were women back in Boston who judged how much a man loved them by the flowers, trinkets and carefully phrased letters of admiration he sent. But Hannah knew there were other ways a man could show how much he loved a woman. Ways that were not refined or cultured or polished, but were as simple as a shared smile when the work was hard and the day was long, and as honest as warm, strong arms about you in the deepness of the night. “I know I ain’t good enough for you,” Lucas said, his voice raw with emotion, “And I know it makes sense for you to want to have a man like Travers by your side. Someone like yourself. Someone rich, educated.” “Lucas—“ “I can’t rightly promise I won’t shoot him if you do take it into your mind to marry him. Especially if he don’t treat you right. But I won’t kill him. Just wound him some. Maybe. Cause if that’s who you want to marry—” “Damnit, Lucas Chase, will you hush up and listen to me!” He stared down at her, his mouth open. 43

“That’s better,” she said primly. “First off, I’m not going to marry Samuel. He hasn’t even asked me to marry him, although I believe he was getting round to it. But only because I suspect his father was pressuring him to.” “What do you mean?” “Samuel doesn’t love me. He’d marry me if I said yes and then, more than likely, he’d do what Broden did. Especially once he learned of my…appetites.” She sighed. “Find excuses to leave our bed and go into town to the brothel.” “He’d be a fool if he did.” In all honesty Hannah had no idea how Samuel would feel about her need for pain during sexual relations. Or of her desire to be tied up. She’d certainly never broached the subject with him and had no intention of doing so. She had no desire whatsoever to be intimate with him. Lucas was the only man she wanted laying hands on her. “Lucas?” “Yeah.” “Will you...will you promise not to hurt me?” He frowned. “But I do hurt you. Every time I truss you up. You beg me to hurt you.” “No, I don’t mean that.” She touched her heart. “Here. Will you promise not to hurt me here?” He smiled, but it was a smile tinged with sadness. “Life don’t work that way, honey. You know that. You’re looking for someone to ride the river with. Someone you can trust completely.” He stroked her cheek with the pad of his thumb. “But even with trust, there’s going to be pain. But I can promise you that I won’t hurt you the way Broden did. And I won’t because I don’t want no other woman but you.” “But what if you change? Broden told me he loved me and then—” She stopped, her throat working with her recollection of the look of disgust on his face when she asked him to tie her to their bed. “And then he didn’t love me anymore.” “I didn’t know the man from Adam, but I’m going to take a chance and say he probably didn’t love you to begin with. Ain’t that possible?” Hannah bit her lower lip. Thinking back over Broden’s courtship of her, it had been more like some kind of campaign with her as the prize. He’d said all the right things and made all the suitable gestures, but had any of it been for her benefit? Her happiness? “You’re so much like him,” she said. Broden had also been big and strong, and he had captivated her with his black Irish looks, boisterous charm, and grandiose dreams. Lucas frowned. “I ain’t him, Hannah.” “I want to believe that.” “Then listen up ‘cause I’m gonna tell you true. In all the years I’ve been in this world I ain’t never found no place I wanted to be and no woman I wanted to be with. Until I come here to the Circle B and to you, Mrs. Hannah O’Rourke." He smiled. "As out of place on this ranch as a rose in a cabbage field. But bound and determined to stay." She grasped his hand. “Do you love me, Lucas? Truly?” His eyes flickered nervously across her face. “Ain’t I showed you I do?” “But you’ve never said it.” And he hadn’t said it. Not once. Sensing his disquiet, fear rushed through her. “You don’t love me.” She tried and failed to keep the sorrow out of her voice. 44

“I do, honey, but…” She gripped his fingers. “But what, Lucas. Tell me.” He released a heavy breath. “You’re scared of being hurt. That’s why you’re afraid to get married again. Well, you ain’t the only one.” “You’ve been married before?” He shook his head no. “It’s just that I can’t help but think that the day I say to you how I really feel about you, that’ll be the day you break me.” “Break you?” “I’m all alone in the world. I ain’t got no kin. Least ways none I’d care to lay claim to. I never knew who my Pa was, and my Ma died when I was seven. I’ve been on my own since.” “Oh, Lucas, I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.” He shrugged as if it were no matter his having been orphaned so young. “I ain’t going to lie to you. I want a place of my own and I want a wife and I want young’uns. I don’t want to die alone.” Misery shadowed his eyes and he quickly looked away from her. Pain clenched Hannah’s heart, and the loneliness that Lucas dreaded facing was the same loneliness she’d felt when she’d stood alone in the barn. She gently turned his face back to hers. “And you’re afraid if you tell me you love me—” “Men have hearts too, Hannah,” he said softly. “And they can be broke just as well.” She nodded. She fully understood about broken hearts. “Will you answer me something if I ask you?” “I will.” “When you left this morning did you…did you cry?” “Did I what?” She smiled at the look of outrage on his face. “Oh, don’t you dare act as if men don’t cry because I know they do.” He shrugged. “Well, hell, I don’t know. I might have…got something in my eye and teared up a bit because of it.” “You did cry,” she said. “You cried because I hurt you.” She slipped her arms about his neck and pressed her lips against his stubble-roughened cheek. “I’m sorry, darling. I’m so sorry I hurt you.” He stroked her hair. “You ain’t got no cause to apologize. You said what you felt, and after all the varmints and scoundrels who’ve come through here looking to marry you, you had good reason to think I was no different.” “But you are different, Lucas. And I love you for it. I love you.” And as Hannah said those three simple words it was as if something inside her that had been cold and hard and dark broke apart and there was nothing but warmth and softness and light. Lucas stared at her then a wide smile broke across his face. “Truly?” She smiled. “Yes, truly.” “Well, damnit, woman,” he groused, but playfully, “you sure could have fooled me. You ain’t been nothing but contrary and ornery to me since the day I got here.” She laughed. “Only because you tend to bring that side out of me.” “Could be.” His expression sobered and he gently stroked her face. “And I love you, Hannah, darling. I’ve loved you since that day I saw you riding head out towards that twister.” Broden had said he loved her, but he’d never said it with such tender simplicity and such gentle 45

fierceness. “I do want you around, Lucas. I don’t ever want you to leave. But I don’t want you as my foreman. Or as my lover.” She kissed his lips. “I want you as my husband.” “You’re joshing, ain’t you? Now why would you want to marry a saddle bum like me when you could marry someone like Samuel?” “Because I don’t love someone like Samuel. I love someone like you.” She kissed him again. “And I ain’t joshing. Marry me. Marry me, darling.” His eyes peered deeply and solemnly into hers as if searching their depths. Then he smiled. “Fine. I’ll marry you.” He shrugged as if it were no matter to him, but his face was blazing with happiness. “Since you’re so all fired and set on the notion, I reckon I’d best go ahead and do it, Mrs. O’Rourke.” She shook her head. “Don’t call me that. Before I married Broden my name was Hannah Norcross.” She smiled. “But soon it will be Mrs. Hannah Chase.” “Damn straight it will.” She laughed and Lucas laughed with her. Then, his expression sobering, he gently took her face between his big hands. He held her face as if it were made of the finest cut glass and would shatter at the merest touch. His hands, which could ride her flesh so hard and transport her, over and over, to the aching crest of ectasty, were now as tender as the softest spring breeze. “My rose,” he said softly, his eyes gazing warmly into hers. “My brave, beautiful wild prarire rose.” And he kissed her. And he kissed so tenderly and with so much love that Hannah chided herself for taking so long to tell him how she truly felt about him. Yes, she’d been afraid of being hurt again. But each and every time she’d been under his hands, he had not only taken her to searing heights of bliss, he had given her something just as precious. The chance to trust again. To no longer be afraid. To open herself up not only to sexual pleasure but to love. Breaking their kiss, which lasted for a long, lovely moment, he quicly rolled onto his back and pulled her across him so that she now was astride him. “Lucas, what are you—?” He shoved his hips up and rubbed his thickened cock along her sex. “Ride me, honey,” he whispered huskily. He gazed up at her, his gray eyes smoldering. “Ride me.” “But, Lucas, I’ve never done it this way before.” She looked down at him, her eyes wide. “Is it even proper?” He stared up at her and then he laughed. “Hannah, darling. Listen to yourself. You ask me to tie you up, lay my hands hard on you and do things to you that would probably get me thrown into jail and you’re asking if this is proper?” He reached up, put his hand alongside her face and pushed it through her auburn hair, which had come undone and now flowed down her back. “No, honey, I reckon it ain’t proper. And that’s why you’re gonna love it.” Hannah smiled and, looking down at his big, strong body, she couldn’t help wondering if what she was feeling now, astride him as she was, was akin to what he felt when he broke wild horses. Carefully, slowly, she took his thick cock inside her. “Gently now.” His strong, brown hands smoothed her rounded hips. “Gently.” 46

He used the same words when he was working with the newly broke horses, but she did not feel offended he was using them with her. She felt loved. She slowly worked her hips, pulling him in deeper, reveling in the sensation of him filling her cunny so completely. “Yes, honey. That’s it.” He moved his hands around to her buttocks and rubbed them, his hard palms moist with sweat. “Oh, yeah, that’s it.” His cock swelled within her, and he reached up, his eyes gazing deeply into hers, and rolled her ripe nipples between his fingers. Hot pleasure pulsed through Hannah like licking tongues of heat and slowly, slowly, she rose and fell along his stiff shaft, gripping it with her sex, delighting in the feel of him so firmly tucked inside her. She liked this. Being atop his big, strong body. It made her feel in control, though she knew in her heart she’d never be fully in control of a man like Lucas Chase. And that suited her just fine. The muscles of Lucas’s long neck worked and he closed his eyes. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, honey, that’s it. Ride that cock. Ride it.” Hannah’s breath quickened in her throat as he played with her breasts, his large hands caressing their fullness, his callused fingers twisting her nipples, “Harder,” she whispered. She wanted the pain. She needed it. “Hurt me, Lucas, please, hurt me.” He groaned and gripped her breasts, his fingers pinching her nipples. Hannah cried out and threw back her head, her body shuddering with the nearness of her climax. Reaching behind her, Lucas grabbed her hair, exposing her neck. He lifted himself up from the hay with the taut muscles of his belly, his hand forcefully squeezing her breast. He pressed his mouth to her throat and bit it. Hannah exploded with a wild cry, the red-black pulses of her orgasm consuming her, her soul shattering like finely spun glass. Lucas held firmly onto her as she climaxed, his arms locked tightly around her, his mouth hard on her throat, the teeth crushing her skin as his cock pulsed deep inside her. Once he had completely spent himself, he fell back onto the pile of hay, pulling her down with him, the two of them panting exhaustedly in the humid air of the barn. Hannah languidly rubbed herself against his body as she listened happily to the hard beating of his heart against her ear. “Lucas?” “Yeah, honey?” “Why did you come to the Circle B?” “Now, Hannah, don’t you start—” “No, no, I’m not questioning your motives.” She smiled, stroking her fingers crosswise over the sweat-soaked hair on his chest. “I know you love me. But why did you come here in the first place?” “Oh, yeah, well, I’d heard you’d gone and hired Jed Billings.” Billings was the foreman Hannah had before Lucas. The one who’d been drunk and sleeping it off in the bunkhouse when the tornado struck and almost killed her, her hands and her cattle. “You knew him?” Lucas snorted. “Yeah, I knew him for a drunken, lowlife, good-for-nothing sonofabitch. He’d been bragging about how he was going to get himself hired on as foreman of the Circle B because there was a 47

filly running it who didn’t know her ass from a hole in the ground.” “Oh, really?” Lucas chuckled and rubbed her back. “His words, honey, not mine. But he was wrong. You got sand. Ain’t no doubt about that.” “And that’s why you came? To become foreman?” “Uh, no, I came because I was of a mind to shoot ole Jed.” “Shoot him? But why?” He shrugged. “Don’t matter now. What’s important is that I’m here. And I ain’t going nowhere.” He rolled his hips beneath her and his cock dug deep inside her cunny. “Feel that?” She most certainly did. He was hard again. “See what you do to me? Get me all hot and bothered.” He grinned. “I swear, woman, you’re going to be the death of me.” She raised up from his chest, looked down at him and shook her head. “No, darling. I’m going to be the life of you. Because you’re not going to die alone. I’m going to be with you. For as long as you want me. And I’m going to give you all the young’uns you want.” She gripped his cock with her sex and smiled. “Starting now.” Lucas grinned and rolled her back onto the hay so that he was once more on top of her, and the two of them made love like horses in heat, their bodies wet with sweat, bits of hay clinging to their tangled hair and flushed skin. And when Hannah’s climax came down on her again, like drenching rain on parched earth, she took from Lucas’s hard, strong body all the pleasure she could and gave him back just as much. “Lucas?” she gasped. “Yeah, darling?” “On our wedding night?” He kissed her throat, his lips sliding against her skin. “Yeah?” he whispered. “Could you bring the whip with you?” “The bullwhip?” He smiled against her throat. “Oh, so you liked what I did with it.” She rubbed her cheek against his hard shoulder, recalling the sensation of him fucking her with the whip’s handle. “Of course. Couldn’t you tell? But…” He lifted his head from her neck and looked down at her. “But what, honey?” She bit her lower lip. “I…I want you to use it on me the way you use it on the cattle.” His eyes widened and he stared at her. Fearing she had gone too far, and that he was going to respond as Broden had, with disgust at her needs, she was about to withdraw her request. “Lord have mercy, woman,” he finally said. “Whatever am I gonna do with you?” Then he grinned. “But I gotta say, I’ve been of a mind to use it on you. I was just afraid of what you might say.” Relief rushed through her along with happiness regarding the man she had chosen to be her husband. “Afraid of what I might say? Oh, Lucas, my precious darling.” Wrapping her arms tightly around his neck, she joyfully kissed him over and over. Five Years Later Hannah walked over to the bedroom window. The sun had been up for hours, and it was looking to be 48

a beautiful day. She was usually awake long before this, but last night she and Lucas had made up for the week he’d been away at the Stockgrowers Association meeting by indulging in a particularly robust bout of lovemaking, which had left her not only deliciously sore but thoroughly exhausted. She looked down at her wrists. They were still red from the rope burns. Fresh bite marks also bruised her breasts and thighs. She smiled, recalling last night. From the way Lucas had carried on after he had trussed her up, one would have thought he’d been gone for months instead of days. They’d been so busy loving each other, as a matter of fact, that she plumb forgot to tell him her news. She looked back out the window. In the distance the hands were bringing in the spring calves for branding and the mature cattle for sale, the dust from the herd’s slow, lumbering movement rising densely from the ground. The cowboy’s shouts and cries, along with the sharp snap of their whips, and the deep lowing of the cattle echoed through the air. But that was not what had woken Hannah from her mid-morning slumber. “I’m scared, Papa.” “I know you are, honey, but you ain’t got no cause to be.” Down below, just in front of the barn, Lucas stood next to a pony. And on that pony sat the fruit of their coupling in that barn, their four and a half year old daughter, Mary Elizabeth, named for both her mother and Lucas’s. Green eyes wide, the black curls of her hair framing her heart-shaped face, Mary Elizabeth gazed solemnly up at her father. She’d been pestering her parents about a pony for months and so, on his return home, Lucas finally bought her one. “I’m going to fall off, Papa,” she declared in that direct, earnest manner that Hannah found endearing, if somewhat unusual in someone so young. “I’m going to fall off and break my head.” “No, you ain’t, cause I ain’t gonna let you. We’re gonna take it slow and easy. Alright?” Mary Elizabeth nodded gravely, her little hands clutching the saddle’s pommel. “Ready? Okay, here we go.” Lucas took hold of the lead rope he’d tied about the bridle and slowly guided the pony in a circle around him. Hannah could clearly see the anxiety on their daughter’s face. She was about to go down and tell Lucas that perhaps the pony hadn’t been such a good idea after all. Before she could, Mary Elizabeth cried out. “Papa, look! I’m riding. I’m riding. And I’m not falling off.” Lucas laughed. And it was that deep, low rumble in his chest that never failed to send a sensual shiver down Hannah’s spine. “Didn’t I tell you? As long as your Papa’s around, little darling, you got nothing to fear.” “Yes, Papa. Can I go faster now? Please?” Lucas clicked his tongue, jerked the rope and the pony went from a walk to a quick trot. Mary Elizabeth laughed. Looking up at the house, she spied her mother in the bedroom window. “Look, Mama, look,” she cried. “Papa said I wouldn’t fall off. And I haven’t.” “Yes, darling, I see.” Hannah placed her hand on her chest, a profound feeling of joy at her daughter’s happiness swelling through her. “Always trust what your Papa says. He’ll tell you true.” Lucas turned, looked up at her and grinned. Hannah smiled and blew him a kiss good morning. He tilted his head as if he’d caught it on his cheek. Another warm feeling spread through her, but this one settled lower, much lower, than her heart. And, 49

despite how sore she was this morning, she couldn’t wait for tonight when she was once again under her husband’s hands. But first there was her news. Humming softly to herself, her hand moving gently over her stomach, Hannah stepped away from the window and made ready to go down and tell her husband that she was once again carrying another of his young’uns. ###

ABOUT THE AUTHOR Diana Castle has loved reading tales of adventure and romance since she was a child. Longing to write her own stories, she now pens exciting, spicy tales of “dangerous men and adventurous women” in her favorite genres: historicals, mystery, suspense, science fiction, fantasy and paranormals. She is an avid student of mythology, fairy tales, folkore, film, history, and the tarot, and she brings her knowledge of all these topics to all her stories. She lives in the Midwest and very much enjoys the change in the seasons. The next book in Diana Castle’s spicy western trilogy, Temptation, will be released the end of 2011.

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WEBSITE: Diana Castle's Webiste: http://dianacastle.com/

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