Thunder Horse Redemption

A shiver, originating at the base of her spine, rocketed all the way up her back, shaking her violently. Once the trembling began, it didn’t abate.

His hands jerked away from her and he stood, backing up several steps. “You have to get out of those wet clothes.”

“And w-what am I s-supposed to wear in the m-mean time?” she quipped, the chattering of her teeth taking the barb out of her response.

“Wearing nothing is better than keeping the dampness against your skin. The moisture conducts heat away from your body.”

“I know that.” Still, she couldn’t quite stomach the thought of undressing in front of him. With everything that had happened with the shooter and her injury, she felt too vulnerable. Common sense told her that she needed to get the clothes away from her skin, but every instinct protested. She couldn’t let herself be weak where Pierce Thunder Horse was concerned, lest it create a leak in the dam of emotions she’d held in check since he’d returned.

Stubbornly, she wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them up against her body for more warmth. Her body’s trembles turned into bone-shaking shivers, so violent she thought she’d rattle apart.

“Good grief, woman. It’s not as though I haven’t seen you naked before.” He grabbed her hand and urged her to her feet, standing her in front of him. His hands clamped down on her shoulders and he rubbed them through the damp cotton of the T-shirt she wore.

“You’re freezing. I suspect shock is setting in from your fall and injury. If we don’t get you warmed up, you could have some serious problems, and we both know that there’s no way I could get you some help until the weather clears.”

“Well, when you put it that way.” She pressed her hands into his chest, pushing against him. “I can undress myself.”

He let go of her, his lips twisting. “Go for it.”

Her fingers fumbled with the hem of her shirt. They shook so hard, she couldn’t manage to pull it up over her torso. “I don’t know…what’s…wrong…” Tears welled in her eyes, and before she could stop them, ran down her cheeks. Now she couldn’t even see what she was doing.

“Give it up.” Pierce’s whispered words stirred the wisps of hair beside Roxanne’s ear, his breath warming her cold skin.

“Never,” she said, though her hands fell to her sides. Giving it up would have to mean trusting him, and she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t! But when he reached out to her again, she found that she couldn’t quite bring herself to stop him, either. She’d been cold for so very long…and Pierce was always so warm.

Deft fingers made quick work of tugging her shirt up and over her head, easing it past the wound on her shoulder and the back of her scalp.

Roxanne’s breath lodged in her throat and her gaze traveled upward to connect with the darkness of the Lakotan’s eyes. Months of sorrow, of love lost and families betrayed couldn’t begin to melt away in one look.

She wanted to say no, wanted to shake her head, push him away, stay strong all on her own, the way she had for months. But God help her, she also wanted to say yes, to relax and let someone else take control, maybe even take care of her for a little while.

In the end, she didn’t say anything at all. Neither did he. Instead, his lips lowered, so slowly she had plenty of time to resist, to turn away and run.

But she didn’t.

EVERY THOUGHT, NERVE, beat of Pierce’s heart centered on Roxanne. Her fiery red hair lay wet and curling against her face, her mouth opened, her tongue flicking out to slide across her lips.

He bent to capture her full bottom lip between his teeth, sucking it into his mouth.

The lace of Roxanne’s bra rubbed against his shirt. The urge to rip aside the fabric swelled inside him. He had to touch the full, rounded softness of her breasts, to smooth his hands over the swells, rediscovering the curves and warmth of Roxanne’s naked skin.

He buried his face in the curve of her neck, nipping and sucking at the pulse beating wildly there.

When Pierce realized she was just as affected by him as he was her, he continued his assault, tossing her shirt to the floor. He unclasped her bra, easing the straps over her shoulders and down her arms, his gaze following its progress as her breasts sprang free. He cupped one in his palm and touched the rigid nipple with the tip of his tongue, lost in the taste of her.

Her chest rose on a gasp, her head falling back. Roxanne’s hand reached out to circle Pierce’s neck, bringing him closer so that he could suck the nipple into his mouth, pulling hard.

Her other hand groped for the top button of his jeans, fumbling with the hard metal rivet. His head rose and he stared down into her smoky blue gaze, seeing the woman he’d fallen in love with, the woman who was his equal, his soul mate, the only one for him. He pulled her hard against his chest and held her, giving in to the way it felt to have her back in his arms. He wanted her so badly his entire body shook with his need.

He had difficulty forcing his thoughts beyond the moment. If he followed his base instincts, he’d throw caution to the wind and take her there, in the darkness of the cave, their naked bodies writhing in the firelight.

But if he did that, she’d never forgive him. When they both came to their senses, Roxanne would remember all the reasons she had to despise him, all the reasons they would never be a couple again, never have a future together.

Pierce dragged in a deep breath and let it out, loosening his hold on her.

This was Roxanne. The woman he still loved with all his heart. The sister of one of the men whose death was his fault.

Pierce couldn’t change the past or undo what had happened to Roxanne’s brother. He couldn’t stop her hating him and hadn’t been able to keep her from leaving; nor had he tried. Today was the first time they’d managed to even have a conversation since ending their engagement, and it had been more than enough to show him how angry she still was. Right now, she was cold, and scared, and hurting and she was willing to let his touch make the world go away for a while, but it wouldn’t last. Making love to her wouldn’t change anything. She still hated him and no matter how perfect she’d been for him, Special Agent Pierce Thunder Horse was the wrong man for her.

He tugged her bra straps up over her shoulders and eased them both down to sit near the campfire, holding her close to share his body warmth.

“That shouldn’t have happened,” she said, her voice not much louder than a whisper.

“No. It shouldn’t have.” He didn’t try to kiss her again.

She leaned her head against his chest. “It won’t happen again.”

“Count on it.” He held her into the night as she fell into a troubled sleep. She clung to him, her body shaking, her head twisting back and forth as nightmares disturbed her slumber. Because of her possible concussion, he had an excuse to wake her from her dreams every two hours.

In the small hours of the morning, Pierce spooned her body against his, his gaze on the dying embers of the fire, his thoughts swirling around the shooting, the dirt bike, Roxanne and the bullet and wrapper they’d found in the cave.

Sleep escaped him with her body close to his and the wad of evidence in his pocket. The more he mulled over everything, the more dread filled his chest, crushing him with worry.

Whatever Roxanne had stumbled on that had caused the shooter to attack, it was much bigger than some idiot taking potshots at wild horses.

If he wasn’t mistaken, the piece of plastic and the claylike substance clinging to it wasn’t a candy wrapper for gum, but the packaging used around plastic explosives.

Chapter Four

A horse nickered, stirring Roxanne awake. Her eyes blinked open to the muted light of predawn filtering through the window. Only it wasn’t a window, and the cool air brushing across her skin wasn’t coming from outside her house.

Her back was warm. An arm draped around her middle and the solid mass pressing against her generated enough heat to chase away the chills, keeping her from freezing in the cool morning air.

Then it all came back to her and she jerked to an upright position, her hands covering her breasts. She breathed a sigh of relief when her hands connected with her bra.

Pierce Thunder Horse pushed up on one elbow, a wary expression on his face. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“Fine.” She leaped to her feet, snatching up her T-shirt and jeans. Turning her back to the Lakotan, she jammed her feet into the jeans and shivered as she shimmied the cold but dry fabric up her legs. Thank goodness her shirt and jeans had dried in the night, or moving about in the cool North Dakota morning air would be very uncomfortable. She finger-combed her hair to smooth the curls before she felt confident enough to face Pierce.

Good Lord, what had she done? She’d almost made love to this man.

Without looking him in the eye, she faced Pierce.

He’d pulled his denim shirt over broad shoulders, leaving it hanging open, exposing his smooth, dark chest.

Roxanne realized too late that staring at his chest was every bit as dangerous as looking into his eyes.

“I need to get back to my ranch.” The sooner she got away from Pierce, the better.