The Dangerous Jacob Wilde Read online

  “Turn that thing away from me,” he said coldly. “Do it now.”

  Survival instinct, honed in a place thousands of miles and many centuries away, kicked in.

  This wasn’t Texas anymore.

  Jake dropped to the ground and rolled, not toward the truck as the enemy might predict, but away from it, into scrub and darkness.

  Everything in him focused on that beam of light.

  His heart rate slowed. The sounds of the night faded; he could hear his opponent’s breaths.

  The beam of light moved. Swept over the truck. Over the ground. It was searching for him.

  Jake rolled again. Pressed himself to the earth ten or twelve feet from the road.

  Wait, he told himself. Wait for the right instant, for the opportunity that always presented itself if you were ready….

  “Show yourself,” a voice called.

  Addison McDowell’s voice.

  It shot him back to reality. This wasn’t some hell-begotten dirt track in Afghanistan, it was Texas. And the person with the flashlight wasn’t the enemy, it was simply a woman who’d been frightened by the headlights following her home.

  He let out a long breath.

  “Addison. Hey. It’s Jake Wilde. You don’t have to—”

  The beam of light swept over the road, the truck, the scrub. It would find him soon. Jake started to rise.

  “Addison? Listen, I understand why you’re upset—”

  “All you need to understand is that I have a gun. And I damn well know how to use it.”

  Jake dropped to his belly, fast. A gun? Impossible. Where would she get a …

  From the Chambers house, of course. The old man had kept a dozen guns, rifles, shotguns, automatics. He’d been the worst kind of hunter, shooting anything that moved.

  Hell.

  This wasn’t good.

  Jake cleared his throat.

  “Addison. I’m not here to hurt you.”

  “I’m going to start counting, Captain. By the time I get to five, you’d better be on your feet with your hands in the air.”

  “Did you hear me? You don’t want to have an accident with that thing—”

  “Shooting you won’t be an accident.”

  “Goddammit, woman—”

  The light swept past him.

  “One,” she said. “Two.”

  It came to a stop, inches from his head.

  “Wait. Listen to me. All I want is—”

  “I know exactly what you want.”

  He blinked.

  There was no mistaking what she meant. The only response he could think of was “uh-oh,” but he had the feeling that wasn’t going to do it.

  “You’re wrong,” he said quickly. “I don’t—”

  “Three,” she said, no hesitancy in her voice at all.

  Jake took a breath, shot to his feet, focused his sight to the left of the light in hopes it wouldn’t blind him and ran to where he figured she was standing.

  He hit her, hard, just as he’d planned, his shoulder driving into her with enough force to take them both to the ground.

  The flashlight flew from her hand.

  Then she was under him, legs spread, arms raised, fingers clawing for his face. He grunted, grabbed for her wrists and struggled to immobilize her.

  Her knee came up. She didn’t have a lot of leverage but she jammed it into his groin anyway, hard enough to make him gasp.

  He flung himself against her, pinned her with his body, his hands clasping hers, holding them out to the sides.

  “Listen to me,” he said roughly. “I’m not here to hurt—”

  She struck like a snake, head coming up, teeth sharp as tiny knives sinking into his throat.

  He jerked back.

  “For God’s sake, woman, will you listen?”

  “I’ll kill you,” she gasped. “So help me, I’ll—”

  “I came to apologize.”

  “You do this to me, I swear—”

  “I came here to apologize, dammit!”

  She grunted. Wriggled. It was like wrestling with a wildcat….

  Except, this was a woman.

  Warm.

  Lithe.

  Silken.

  They were two people in deadly combat—and yet, despite that, despite everything, Jake felt his duplicitous body coming alive.

  Her hair smelled of flowers. Lily of the valley. Lilacs. He didn’t know enough about flowers to be able to identify the scent, he only knew that its fragrance was delicate and surprisingly old-fashioned.

  Her breath was warm. Wine-scented. Her mouth would taste rich and sweet.

  Her breasts were soft. God, she was soft. Sweet and soft. He thought what it would be like to sink into her, sink deep, have her wrap her legs around him.

  In a heartbeat, he was aroused and erect and hard as a rock against her.

  “Crap,” he growled, and he rolled away, shot to his feet, turned his back, stood with his head bent, his hands on his hips, his breathing rough and rapid.

  The names she’d called him didn’t half cover the territory.

  If Addison McDowell really did have a gun, she might as well shoot him because he was worthless. A man who’d get turned while a woman fought him in terror…

  He took a long breath, expelled it and swung toward her.

  She’d risen to her feet. She was holding the flashlight, the beam wavering unsteadily over him, over the ground, over everything. There was no gun.

  He wanted to say something, but what? Finally, he cleared his throat.

  “Are you—are you okay?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “Addison. Please. Are you—”

  “Are you done?”

  He winced. “I swear, I didn’t come here to hurt you.”

  She made a little sound. He hoped it was a snort of disbelief but it might have been the sound of her swallowing her tears.

  “Addison …”

  “Go away,” she said wearily. “Just—just climb into your truck and—”

  “I came to apologize. To tell you all the stuff I said back at El Sueño was—was just—”

  “I don’t want your apology. I don’t want anything but the sight of you and that truck going away from here.”

  Okay. She was pushing? Only a saint wouldn’t push back.

  “Pretending you had a gun was pretty stupid.”

  “Under the circumstances,” she said, “I think it was pretty smart.”

  She was standing straighter. Her voice had taken on strength.

  The lady had balls.

  “Only if you don’t assume I might have had one, too.”

  “Why would I think such a thing?”

  Jake shrugged. “Hey, this is Texas.”

  And, by God, she laughed. He breathed a little easier.

  “You sure I didn’t hurt you?”

  “Only my pride. I took a course in tae kwon do years ago, when I first moved to New York. The instructor said I’d be able to fight off a mugger. Now it turns out I can’t fight off a cowboy.”

  She was back. He had to admire her. She was one tough, resilient female.

  “Nobody’s called me a cowboy in years.”

  “Maybe that’s why I couldn’t fight you off.”

  He laughed. And he paused, struggling to find the words that had to be said next. No way could she have missed what had happened when he was on top of her.

  “Ah, about what happened. When I, ah, when I had you down …”

  He paused again. She didn’t say anything. Heat flooded his face.

  “I just want you to know that—that what happened wasn’t, uh, it wasn’t deliberate …”

  “Did something happen?” she said coldly. “I’m afraid I didn’t notice.”

  Wow. He hadn’t expected that. Okay. She figured it was payback time. He could deal with that.

  “Well,” he said briskly, “if you’re sure you’re all right—”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Would you
like me to stay with you until you get to the house?”

  She gave a snort of laughter.

  He felt his face heat again, but not with embarrassment.

  “You know,” he said carefully, “I don’t know what it’s like back East but around here, people accept apologies.”

  “They accept them back East, too, but not from jerks.”

  The muscle in his jaw fluttered. Enough, he thought grimly, and he turned away from her and strode to the truck.

  “Captain?”

  Jake looked around.

  “Next time you decide to pay me a visit, just remember there are half a dozen real guns inside that house.”

  “A little advice,” Jake said coldly. “Don’t threaten a man with a gun, real or otherwise, unless you’re prepared to face the consequences.”

  “Advice is the last thing I need from the likes of you, Captain Wilde. You’ve got a nasty disposition, a hair-trigger temper and you’re so full of yourself that—”

  Jake marched toward her.

  “You want to talk about being full of yourself, lady, try explaining that outfit you wore tonight.”

  Addison blinked.

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Black silk, cut low. Ice-pick heels.” Was he actually saying these things? He sounded like a fool but the words just kept coming. “You might as well have pinned on a sign that said, ‘Hello, Wilde’s Crossing. Ever seen the likes of me before?’“

  Her eyes narrowed. “Are you finished?”

  Finished? Finished? No. He was not finished, nowhere near finished.

  “You know,” he said, “I behaved like a damned fool back at El Sueño.”

  “If you’re waiting for me to disagree—”

  “But what you did here was worse.”

  “Worse? Defending myself against you was worse?”

  “I could have killed you.”

  His words were flat and cold. Addison felt the chill of them straight into the marrow of her bones.

  “Don’t get me wrong. You were scared. A truck, following you on these dark, deserted roads … I understand that. But once you pulled that trick with your car, put your headlights on me, that flashlight, saw who I was—”

  “I saw who you were, all right.” For the first time since he’d taken her down, her voice quavered. “A man who wanted to—to—”

  Addison shuddered. The wind was chilly; in her rush to leave El Sueño, she’d left her jacket behind.

  “I’m not that kind of man,” Jake said flatly. “Despite this face.”

  “Goddammit,” she said with hot fury, “do you think that’s what this is about? You and your face? You, feeling sorry for yourself?

  Jake took a quick step forward, muscles taut with anger. “Who in hell do you think you are?”

  “I’m a woman who’s not afraid to tell you the truth, unlike that—that bunch of sympathy sisters at your ranch.” Her chin rose; she tossed her hair back from her face. “Grow up, Captain. You were wounded. You have scars. People react to seeing them. So what?”

  “You’re out of line,” he said coldly.

  “I am very much in line. You have a chip on your shoulder the size of a house.”

  “You don’t know a damned thing about me.”

  “And you don’t know a damned thing about me, but that didn’t stop you from making a snap judgment. And I am sick and tired of snap judgments. You got that?”

  Jake hesitated. Then he nodded.

  “You’re right,” he said in a low voice. “You want to know the truth of what happened tonight? I saw you. And I wanted you. I haven’t wanted a woman in what seems like forever but one look at you and all that changed. And then—then, my brothers told me you weren’t looking at me, Jacob Wilde, you were looking at me, the guy they’d recommended to check out your ranch and I, hell, and I—”

  “I saw you watching me. And I told myself I was just trying to get your attention so we could talk business but—but—”

  “Dammit,” he said, and either she moved or he did.

  It didn’t matter.

  What counted was that an instant later, she was in his arms.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THERE WAS NO time to try and understand what was happening.

  This was magic, and only a fool would question it.

  Jake was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a fool. He was a man with a beautiful woman in his arms, her mouth warm against his.

  She whispered something against his lips. Was she asking him to stop?

  No.

  Thank God, no, because stopping the kiss would have killed him.

  If anything, he wanted more.

  And she gave it, her lips parting eagerly so he could taste her hot, honeyed sweetness.

  She slid her tongue against his. And moaned.

  The sound went straight through him.

  She went up on her toes, the flashlight tumbling to the ground.

  His arms tightened around her as she wound her arms around his neck.

  He could hear his blood roaring in his ears.

  On a low, rough groan, he tilted her head back and took the kiss deeper.

  She trembled, pressed her body more tightly to his.

  The kiss went on and on; the moon and the stars spun around them. They were the center of the universe, its source of light and heat—

  And the kiss wasn’t enough.

  Jake stumbled back against the truck and lifted Addison into him. She clung to him. He moved his hips against her and the sound she made when she felt his erection was raw with need.

  Everything within him responded.

  He was steel. He was granite. He was dangerously close to losing control.

  “Addison,” he said in a warning whisper, “Addison …”

  She sank her teeth delicately into the tender flesh of his bottom lip. Rocked against him. Said his name in a hoarse whisper, and whatever remained of his sanity fled.

  He hoisted her off the ground, one arm under her bottom, his free hand beneath her skirt. She wrapped her legs around him.

  He sought her heat, found it, found the wetness that was for him, only for him, and cupped her with his palm.

  She gave a sharp, keening cry.

  “Please,” she sobbed, “Jacob, Jacob, please …”

  Beyond thought, beyond everything rational, he wrapped his fingers around the small bit of silk that kept him from her and tore it away.

  She gasped.

  Now he could feel her against his fingers.

  Wet heat. Soft curls. The delicate petals of the flower that was her feminine heart.

  He stroked her. She screamed. The intensity of her response almost finished him.

  Quickly, he reached between them, unzipped, freed himself, lifted her higher …

  And drove into her.

  She clamped around him, a velvet vise.

  Hold on, he told himself, don’t let go, not yet, not yet, not—

  But she kissed him. Lifted herself. Came down on his aroused flesh. Once. Twice. Again …

  She screamed again. Convulsed around him.

  And the cosmos whirled them away in its star-studded embrace.

  His heartbeat slowed.

  He felt hers slowing, too.

  The sounds of the night settled around them.

  So did his ability to think.

  What in hell had just happened?

  He’d been with a lot of women. Until the last year and a half, more, perhaps, than most men.

  He’d always liked sex, liked the tastes, the textures of a woman’s body, and he was no stranger to sex as a sudden, exciting encounter.

  But this—

  This wasn’t like anything he’d ever known.

  Part of him said it was because he hadn’t had a woman in a long time.

  Liar, a voice inside him whispered.

  He’d gone without sex before, during long combat missions, even during self-imposed periods of celibacy before combat when instinct told him that self-i
mposed deprivation would make him stronger.

  There was no explanation for what had just happened. He’d lost his self-control.

  No finesse.

  No tenderness.

  And, sweet Jesus, no condom.

  Still, he wanted to take her again. Slowly. With time to do all the things he hadn’t done.

  Undress her.

  Taste her.

  Kiss her breasts, suck on her nipples …

  “Put me down.”

  Her voice was toneless. Even a man still trying to figure out if he’d lost his sanity could tell that wasn’t a good sign.

  “Listen,” he said, “about this—”

  “Did you hear me? Put me down.”

  He nodded, lowered her carefully to her feet and searched his head for something intelligent to say. Nothing happened, so he went for a time-honored classic.

  “You okay?”

  She didn’t answer. Yeah, well, why would she? Surely, what he’d said was among the stupidest lines a man could utter.

  What was she thinking? He couldn’t tell, couldn’t see her face. Her hair was a wild tangle, obscuring her features.

  “Hey,” he said softly. He scrunched down, just enough so they were at eye level, and put a hand under her chin. “Addy?”

  Her head came up. “My name,” she said, “is Addison.”

  No, Jake thought, that was definitely not a good sign, either.

  “Look, I’m just trying to ask if you’re—”

  “I know what you’re trying to ask. I’m on the pill.”

  He felt a sense of relief, but that hadn’t really been what he was asking. He meant, had he hurt her? Disappointed her? Was she already filled with regret or, like him, did she want more?

  Most of all, did she understand this any better than he did?

  “Good,” he said, nodding his head like one of those silly dolls you saw in the windows of cars. “Good. But what I meant was, you know—”

  Hell. He was stumbling around like a boy after his first conquest. He cleared his throat and tried again.

  “I know this was a little fast—”

  “Such a smooth talker, Captain.” She jerked away from his hand. “Besides, it’s a little late to worry about that, isn’t it?”

  Jake’s mouth thinned.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  His tone was suddenly cold. Addison couldn’t blame him. He’d asked a damned good question.

  What had just happened—down-and-dirty sex with a man she had just met, a man who’d accused her of trying to seduce him into bed or maybe into accepting a job—had involved the both of them.