Page 9 of Jonathan

“Ah!” She seemed amused by him. “So, I have been told. Pat from the diner already warned me of what a doozy these storms can be and several of your ranch hands offered to keep me company.” Reaching in a hand, she had him jolting as she trailed a finger over his rigid jawline. “Have you come to extend your own invitation?”

For a minute there was utter silence, except the wind whipping through the leaves. The air was still, the watery moon filtering through the leaves, giving him a chance to see every perfect feature of her face, the long lashes, the unpainted lips that had him yearning.

Her skin was flawless and reminded him of rich caramel. The hunger inside him blossomed until he could not think. Her touch on his skin was like branding iron searing and scorching.

His hand snaked up to clamp on her slender wrist with enough force to hurt her, but she showed no signs that he was hurting her. She just stood there staring at him with those magnificent eyes that made him want to devour her. And never stop.

Sexual tension sizzled between them, so much so that it felt as if their own storm was brewing and already breaking the surface. They stared at each other, eyes making contact, and their skins touching.

He felt the silk of her skin under his calloused fingers and his hold changed, his grip became loose, fingers unconsciously massaging away the faint bruises he had put there.

A clap of thunder, the sound reverberating through the air, broke the spell and had him flinging her hand away. His eyes glowered with anger and desire; he was not certain which was more potent.

“Move.” He growled. And when she did, he backed out, tires spinning on the gravel as he shoved the lever into drive. Without a backward glance, he left her in the dust.

Pressing a hand to her chest, Kamilah let out a shaky laugh. Oh, she was definitely going to be getting him into her bed. If she had not been certain before, the hormones veering crazily inside her, the emotions churning left her in no doubt that she was going to be sleeping with the sexy cowboy.

She was looking forward to diving beneath that tough outer layer and getting to his core. With another laugh, she turned around and headed towards the cabin.

*****

The rain started just before he reached the ranch. The water had erupted from the clouds in its usual dramatic form, beating down on the roof of the jeep. Lightning cut jagged strips in the charcoal gray sky, followed by claps of thunder.

His hands gripped the steering wheel as he stared sightlessly out the windshield. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes briefly and tried to shake the image of the provocative woman he had left behind at the cabin.

The urge he felt to haul her inside the vehicle and kissed her senseless had him reeling from the power and potency of it. Rubbing his hands over his face, he shoved the door open and stepped out into the deluge. He was soaked within seconds, the cold inching into his protective clothing.

Bending his head, he made his way to the front porch and stood there staring at the rain lashing the earth. A grim look settled on his face as he realized that if it continued, they would be faced with flooding in several areas. All he could pray for was that it lasted hours instead of days.

Last year it had been particularly horrible, with the rain lasting several days. They had lost animals as well precious fruits and vegetables. The worst part of it, they had also lost two itinerant men who had been foolish enough to venture out in the deluge.

Out of towners often underestimate the weather to their detriment. His mind drifted to the woman he had left at the cabin and for a minute, he felt a shimmer of fear and wondered if she was going to be okay.

With an irritated sigh, he opened the door and stepped into the foyer, dragging off his jacket and sat on the padded entry waybench to take off his boots. The housekeeper materialized out of one of the doorways, shaking her head as he dripped water on her shiny wooden floor.

“I almost drowned out there,” he told her in his defense, “so don’t start with me.” Helen had been with them since before he was born and the woman did not look a day over forty, even though she was in her late sixties.

She was tall, with an erect bearing, her once thick black hair almost white. Light blue eyes slid him a mild look as she took the jacket and folded it over one arm.

“That should teach you to stay out at all hours. I have sent up a maid with some stew to your room and a pot of coffee,” she said with a sniff.

“Have I told you lately, how much I adore you?” His grin came and had her smiling.

“Go on with your flattery. Your mother is waiting up for you.” Helen touched his arm lightly.” “You know how she gets when you’re out in that kind of weather. She’s in her salon.”

The warmth of the house was already drying his clothing. Dragging his fingers through his damp hair, he made his way along the narrow passageway and headed up the stairs. The ranch was his home.

He had been born here and had only been away when he was in college. He had taken several trips to various places, but this place would always be home for him.

Turning left, he passed several doors before coming to a set of double doors that had been left open as if in expectation of his arrival.

Leonie McCarthy sat on a blue and white sofa, with her feet tucked beneath her, a book opened on her lap. But she was not reading. She was staring out the window at the rain lashing the glass.

Sensing his presence, she turned her head swiftly, her relieved smile coming immediately. Stretching out a hand, she closed her fingers around his and squeezed. Gesturing for him to take a seat, she turned to face him, taking in the damp flannel shirt clinging to his strong frame.

“The fire will dry your clothing in a minute. You were out late. I was worried.”

Lifting her hand to his lips, he kissed the knuckles. “You know better than that.”

---