Page 27 of Texas Splendor
With a deep sigh, he headed for the porch where he’d stored his gear earlier before he’d begun tearing down the barn. He thought about laying his pallet out beneath the stars, but prison had taught him to appreciate fine moments when they came along. And it had been a long time since he’d known anything finer than Loree Grant.
Loree heard the door open and held her breath. She’d long ago given up on Austin joining her and had extinguished the flame in the lamp. Now only pale moonlight spilled into the room. She listened to the soft tread of his bare feet growing nearer. She felt the bed dip beneath his weight.
He lay on top of the covers as he had last night. His arm came around her, firm and heavy. She felt his bare chest warming her back through her nightgown. He pressed his cheek against the top of her head. She heard what she thought was a quiet sigh of contentment followed by a soft snore.
For a man who claimed sleep didn’t come easily, he’d fallen asleep incredibly quickly. Contented, she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep.
Austin awoke near dawn. Sometime during the night, Loree had rolled over. Her cheek was pressed against his chest, her hand curled over his side. Her warm breath fanned over his skin. This morning her face wasn’t splotchy from crying and her nose wasn’t red. The temptation to awaken her with a kiss and make love to her was almost more than he could resist.
But he had hurt her once. He wouldn’t risk doing it again. She deserved a man whose heart wasn’t tethered to the past.
She’d never find a man like that if she continued to live here alone. What had the bastard who murdered her family done to her? Austin knew he hadn’t raped her but he had made her do something that haunted her. Dee had been right when she told him that not all prisons came with walls. Austin deeply wished he possessed the key that would set Loree free from the past.
She sighed and snuggled closer against him. He was tempted to stay here all day, just holding her, listening to the little noises she made, enjoying the scent of flowers that was part of her, but he knew himself well enough to know his resistance was weakening.
And if he made love to her again, he’d have to stay. The first time, a shared need for comfort had propelled them. The guilt still gnawed at him, but in some strange way, he could justify walking away. But if his needs alone drove him to bury himself deeply inside her …
He pressed his lips to her temple. He needed to be gone by nightfall.
Loree watched Austin work as though the hounds of hell nipped at his heels. The planks of wood fell to the ground with a steady rhythm. And with each thud, she knew he was that much closer to leaving.
Near dusk, they stood and watched the glowing embers slowly die. Loree wrapped her arms around her middle. “I should have done this a long time ago.” She turned and met his gaze. “Thank you.”
He touched her cheek. Smiling wryly, he dropped his hand to his side. “You had a bit of soot on your cheek. Thought I could clean it off, but I just made it worse. Seems to be a habit of mine where you’re concerned.”
“Guess a bath is in order then.”
He tapped his hat against his thigh. “Not for me. Not tonight.”
He strode past her to the porch. Her heart tightened as he lifted his saddle and with long sure strides, approached the stallion.
“Surely, you’ll want to eat before you leave,” she said even though she knew the longer he stayed, the harder it would be to watch him go.
“I’ll get something in town.”
She wrung her hands together. “It’ll be midnight before you get there.”
“I’ll find something.” He cinched the saddle and dropped the stirrup. He slung the saddlebags over the horse’s rump.
“Promise me you’ll have a doctor look at your back.”
He stilled. “I’m not worth your worry, Loree.”
“Promise me,” she repeated obstinately.
He glanced over his shoulder and smiled, the first genuine smile she’d seen cross his face, and it very nearly stole her breath away. She wished he’d given it to her at noon instead of in the fading twilight where it would be nothing but a shadowed memory.
“I promise,” he said.
“You keep your promises, don’t you?”
“Every one I’ve ever made.”
“Then promise me that you’ll take care of yourself as well.”
“Only if you promise to do the same.”
She nodded, her throat constricting with all that remained unsaid. How could she have been intimate with a man and not know how to tell him everything that she wanted him to know?
