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"Maybe you haven't figured it out yet, but I make all the rules around here. I'm the boss, the people here work for me. My word is law.
"I don't work for you."
"No, you don't. But you're a guest on my ranch and while you're here, I'd think you'd want to get along with me." The softly spoken threat hit Emma exactly where he aimed it.
"I'm not trying to be disagreeable," she said quietly.
"Then understand we're having a conversation, getting to know each other a little. We don't have the same kind of formality out here that you're used to. I'm curious about you, that's all. You seem kind of innocent like, I believe I've mentioned that before. Seems to me that all that innocence would have been wiped away, what with you being a married woman and all. But here you are not even aware of what wanting feels like."
"You shouldn't be saying such things." Emma tried for the most pleasant tone she could muster in her attempt at not being disagreeable.
"Just you and me, Emma-girl, I already said that. My house, my supper table. I'll pretty much talk to you anyway I see fit."
Emma was silent as she tried to hold his eyes with hers and failed. She lost her appetite completely and looked down at her hands, folded in her lap.
A loud, grating sound broke the silence as he pushed his chair back and it slid across the wooden floor. Emma didn't look up as he came to stand by her chair.
"You finished?"
She nodded her head.
"You know what comes next."
His words sounded threatening and her eyes flew to his as she lost all color.
He shook his head at the look on her face. "I'm going to carry you to your bedroom."
"I can walk, you don't have to carry me." Her voice was shaky in her confusion.
"Don't have to, maybe I want to." His voice was entirely too enticing and his expression had a sense of purpose.
His hand reached down and lifted hers and Emma found herself standing too close to his large, male body. The boots on his feet added an extra couple of inches to his already soaring height.
Her eyes were level with his chest.
His other hand reached up and his rough, calloused finger slowly slid across her shoulder and across the top swell of her breast as he lifted the collar of the dress and pulled it back up to cover her.
Emma gasped at the sensation. She was rendered completely helpless and could barely stay up on her own two feet.
She heard the rattling sound of his breath coming quickly in and out of his lungs and her eyes lifted to his. That rough finger moved under her chin and lifted. Fire smoldered in his eyes.
"You're pretty." His voice was gravelly, the words a harsh, loud whisper.
Pleasure filled her from the complement. It was the first one she could remember receiving that had anything to do with her looks. The gravelly sound of his voice sent shivers down her spine and she couldn't find her voice to thank him.
He continued in a low, cajoling voice, "Did your husband think you were pretty? Did he tell you when you were naked in his arms?"
Emma swayed at his words as total shock infiltrated her system and her hand fell against his stomach, searching for balance. Steel in the form of muscle greeted her fingers as she unconsciously spread them until she was touching as much of him as she could possibly reach with one hand. Intense heat spread through her and she felt the oddest tingling between her thighs. It was pleasant and kind of bothersome, all at once.
His eyes were dark chocolate brown as they watched her too closely. She felt her lids slide down over her eyes as the feelings surged within her.
The finger left her chin and trailed back down to land on her shoulder again where it slowly pulled her dress down until it bared her white flesh to his eyes. The fabric dropped low on her chest and rubbed against her breast on the downward slide. Emma gasped as she felt her nipple pebble and stand up against the thin white material of her chemise and single petticoat.
She stood in frozen fascination as his breath hissed in and he looked at her bare shoulder and almost naked breast.
"If I had you naked in my arms, if you belonged to me, I'd tell you how pretty you are all the time. How sweet your body smells, how soft you feel, how much I want you."
She felt his head turn as if he were breathing in her scent.
A tear slid from her eye as she listened to the enchanting words.
He wiped it away with a swipe of a finger. "Why the tears?"
She shook her head slowly when she couldn't form an answer. Nobody had ever said such sweet things to her; nobody had ever wanted to hold her.
It was an amazing, dangerous feeling.
Luke felt the effect of her going to his head like a fine wine on an empty stomach. She was small and delicately pretty, her skin was porcelain and she probably belonged anywhere but on his ranch out in the middle of Colorado. She needed to be in a town somewhere, with people who would take good care of her.
With a flash of insight, he wasn't sure he wanted to go through a door he wasn't sure he should open. Problem was, in his gut, he knew it was already too late.
Steeling himself against her warmth, he bent and gently lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom she had used the night before. He pushed his way over to the bed, and carefully deposited her there. He stepped back and saw her scramble to cover herself.
Emma landed on her bottom in a tangle of arms and legs and quickly moved to cover that one bare, silken shoulder from him. Suddenly, being in the bedroom seemed more dangerous than it had the night before. She watched him like a mouse might watch a prowling cat.
He gave her a piercing look and moved away toward the door. He stood on the threshold for a moment before speaking. "That's not going to help, you know. Trying to cover up from me. I've already seen it, Emma." His eyes held hers for the count of three heartbeats. "I already want it."
He turned away, shut the door with a sharp click and left her alone.
Emma let out the air she'd been holding in her lungs with one big whoosh and fell onto her back and put her hands over her face. What had she gotten herself into? What in the world was she supposed to do now?
Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God.
It was all she could get out as she thought about the tall, dark rancher with the face of a fallen angel and the body of a sinner. The man who stated so boldly that he wanted her. What in the world was she going to do?
Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God.
Chapter Four
The next day, Luke dismounted near the corral and handed the reins of the semi-wild pony to Jesse who stood waiting for them.
His spurs clicked in a muted cadence against the solid dirt of the earth as he strode toward the courtyard and then to the house.
He'd seen the sheriff on the northern edge of his property riding toward his house half an hour before, but Luke had been on the south ridge and this was the fastest he could make it back.
He growled with frustrated impatience at the delay.
There was very damn little reason Reed Elgin should take the time from his day to come all the way out here.
There was only one reason that he'd do it.
The other man was curious about Emma. Luke gritted his teeth.
He knew from his conversation with Cody that his message had been relayed to the lawman that there had been a sole female survivor and that she was safe now. The sheriff should have been the last man that had time to worry over the welfare of one lone woman when he had a job that needed to be done.
Luke ripped the leather gloves from his hands and stuffed them in the back pocket of his Levi's
as he quickened his pace.
Luke's brow creased in a frown of pure annoyance as he realized his anger was already at the boiling point and there was no justifiable reason for it.
He tore the door opened and walked purposefully into the house.
****
Emma looked up from where she sat at the kitchen table when she heard the loud bang of the door reverberating through the room like a gunshot.
Her senses were already mired in confusion. Sheriff Elgin had come to call half an hour before and since that time, he'd done nothing but try to get her to come back to town with him.
When she left her bedroom that morning, she was relieved that Luke was already out of the house. Maria had been working in the kitchen and told her that her luggage had arrived late the night before.
Emma was unsure of actually unpacking her things, but Maria had helped her move the luggage to her bedroom, had convinced her to unpack and put away her things so the creases would come out, and they had spent a pleasant morning together while they had gotten Emma settled.
Now she sat as stiff as a board while the sheriff sat back on his haunches in front of her, held her hand in a vise-like grip and tried to get her to come around to his way of thinking while Maria hovered over them, clucking like a chicken trying to protect her chick.
Emma's eyes landed on Luke as he slammed through the door. He stood still for a moment while he took in the scene. Emma's eyes widened and her breath caught as he seemed to grow in stature right before her eyes. His shoulders stiffened and squared, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, and a black, menacing expression came over his countenance.
A loud buzzing began in her ears as she continued to watch him, her body immobilized from shock. A strange feeling of guilt came over her and she tried without success to pull her hand away from the sheriff's grasp.
She felt a moment of helplessness, as if she were a bone being pulled between two dogs. Luke stepped away from the threshold, and in a manner that spoke of casualness that she knew was deceptive, he took three steps until he stood in the middle of the room and in a low, deadly voice said only three words to the sheriff.
"Let her go."
