Tucker's Claim

There was a slight start to reveal her surprise, but Sally Mae didn’t move away from the wall, and she didn’t open her eyes, but her smile changed. Softened. She really was in a mood tonight.

“That would be scandalous.”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “So was taking a notorious outlaw into your house, but I didn’t see you balk at that.”

Her right eye cracked open. “In that, I didn’t have a choice.”

His instincts perked. His blood thickened with the slow course of desire. “And now you do.”

He didn’t expect her to take his hand, and she didn’t, but her other lid opened and the gaze with which she weighed him was as keen as anyone’s, even Caine’s. And Caine had a wicked ability to take a person’s measure. It’s what made him the natural leader of the Hell’s Eight.

“I find I am at a fork in the road of my life, Ranger McCade.”

His heart beat faster and his senses sharpened. “Forks can be good.”

She closed her eyes again and took a slow breath. The way a person did when they were thinking. “True, but only if one can discern the difference between an opening and temptation.”

She had him there. “An opening?”

“An opportunity provided by God to grow.”

“And without this opening you can’t dance with me?”

With her eyes closed and the moonlight catching on her hair, she looked like an angel he’d seen in a book he’d stolen as a child.

Her eyes opened and he changed his mind. No angel looked that earthy.

“It means I must decide the source of thy temptation for me.”

“As in good or bad?”

“Yes.”

Placing his foot on the bottom step, he grazed his finger over her knee. The practical wool of her skirt did nothing to dim the impact on his senses. “Then I vote for bad.”

Her lids flickered and her lip slipped between her teeth. “Why?”

He smiled, holding her gaze, his pulse kicking up. She wasn’t fighting him. “Because I can make being bad…very, very good.”

Her breath caught. Exhaling, she confessed, “Such is what I suspect, which simply makes my decision that much harder.”

The flush on her cheeks destroyed the last of his good intentions. Sliding his fingers to the back of her knee, he curved his palm over the point. “Want me to make it easy for you?”

Sally’s expression shifted. An element he didn’t recognize enriched the speculation as she ran her gaze over him. The glance, rich in feminine knowledge, burned along his desire, as it traveled from the top of his hat to the toes of his boots, neither of which were courting clean. “Would thee be willing?”

The lack of disapproval in her summation only goaded his anger with the message it sent. He’d been here often enough to recognize the signs. She wasn’t looking for proper from him, just a few illicit moments in bed that she could hug as her sexy little secret on cold winter nights. He dropped his hand and stepped back. “Is your bed getting so cold that you’re lowering yourself to invite a savage into it?”

She blinked and slid off the rail. It was easy to read the emotions chasing across her expression this time. Horror. Affront. Anger. And then pity. “Thee do not think much of thyself.”

That wasn’t true. He thought a lot of himself, he just didn’t think much of how other people saw him. “Thinking on changing me?”

With a cock of her head, she acknowledged his displeasure, then she shrugged. “I’ve been thinking on many things.”

“Like what?” He didn’t trust that too-calm way in which she observed him.

“Like the fact that thee are a good man, as well as being a very big temptation.”

He might be a temptation, but he wasn’t good. And she damn well knew it. “Have you been drinking?”

“I don’t believe in drink.”

She didn’t drink, she didn’t dance and she didn’t believe in violence. “What do you believe in?”

She didn’t answer right away, just studied him with her big gray eyes to the point that he was beginning to feel like a bug under a magnifying glass. And then in that regal way she always moved, which spoke of confidence and commanded respect, she descended the steps. When she reached the bottom one, it was natural to hold out his hand, natural that she place hers in it, natural that he continue to hold it as she took that last step that brought her directly before him. Her fingers curled around his. Her hand was cool and dry. She wasn’t nervous about dancing with him. “I believe in choice.”

And this close it was easy to determine why. There was a touch of alcohol on her breath. Someone had spiked the punch. Sally Mae probably wasn’t in command of all her faculties. A decent man would have escorted her back inside to the dance. But he wasn’t a decent man. He was Tucker McCade, known more for his brawling skills than his scruples. In short, he was no better than he had to be.

“Then I’m glad you’re choosing me.”

Her head cocked to the side as he pulled her in. “Thee are lying.”

Yes, he was. What with Sam just having left with Bella, Tucker was more conscious than ever of what would never be his. A woman to love him for what he was. The way Bella loved Sam. The way Desi loved Caine. But tonight, he was in the mood to pretend that it could be, and with Sally Mae. He drew their linked hands up and to the right, guiding her into his arms. The top of her head tucked under his chin as if it belonged there. “Do you care?” he asked against the silk of her hair.

“Not tonight.”

“Good.”

“Thee are holding me too closely.”

She might be protesting, but he noticed she wasn’t stepping away.

Would thee be willing?

He was more than willing to give her anything she wanted for whatever reason. A man like him wasn’t one for passing up golden opportunities.

“Your husband let you lead when you danced?”

She shook her head. “No, he was like thee. He liked to be in charge.”

At least she had one thing right. He was a man who led. “Then you won’t have trouble following me.”

Her head tipped back. Her eyes were very dark in the shadow of his hold, mysterious with an emotion he couldn’t decipher. “No, I don’t think I will.”

The soft huskiness underlying the statement increased the fire that just being near her ignited. “Good.”

He led her into the first steps of the three-count dance. She followed easily. Her free hand slid up his chest to settle on his shoulder and her head snuggled against him. She was as graceful a dancer as she was in everything else, following him easily under the stars. And he came to a decision. This kind of pretending could be good. “I guess you dance after all.”

“What made thee think I didn’t?”

He smiled at the softness of her tone, as if she, too, didn’t want to break the quiet of the moment. “You seem awfully religious.”

“Being a Quaker does not mean I abandon joy.”

Her hips brushed his as he led her through a turn. His cock jerked as if her fingers had closed around it. Damn, she made him ache like a green boy.

“Glad to hear it.”

Chuckling, she squeezed his hand. “I imagine thee are.”

He wanted to close his eyes, as she had, and wallow in the moment, take the pretense to another level. Take advantage of her inebriation. It would be so easy. She was making it easy, but he remembered the gentleness of her touch on his arm when she’d tended him, the softness she gave him so easily, and knew he wouldn’t do it. Sally’s reputation was a very fragile thing. Nurses weren’t held in high regard, often being considered little better than prostitutes. Being seen dancing with him would cost her everything. He’d give her this moment, but he’d make sure it didn’t come back to haunt her.

Sally’s fingers shifted on his shoulder, moving across, following the line of muscle, testing his strength. His hands did a little testing of their own. The right opened across the small of her back, easily spanning the distance from side to side. She was a very slenderly built woman, to the point that it was hard to believe a body this delicate could house such a backbone of steel.

Her hands slid back up over his biceps to curve over his shoulders.

“Thee are a very strong man.”

It came out more of a sigh.

“You are a very beautiful woman.”

As she shook her head, the citrus scent of her shampoo teased his senses. “I’m not, but it is very nice of thee to say so.”

He debated arguing the point, but there were better ways than words to convince a woman of her beauty, and he’d much rather spend his time indulging them. He led her through another turn, pulling her against him so the press of her hips to the hardness of his cock was more than a brush. More of a lure. Fire raced up his backbone as Sally sighed and relaxed against him, prolonging the moment.

“Thee are also very light on thy feet.”

“It comes in handy in my profession.”

She stiffened. She’d never made any secret that she hated what he did. He had never made it any secret that her dislike didn’t change anything. “Thee will not speak of such things tonight.”

“You think that will make them go away?”

“No, but if we do not speak of them for tonight, they cannot exist.”

“Interesting way to look at things.”

“There is no knowing the future, so I have decided there’s value in enjoying the now.”

The theory coincided with his own. Except for their opposing views on the necessity for violence, he and Sally were often on the same side of an argument. Testing her, he led her through some intricate steps. She had no trouble following them. If she could follow those steps, she was aware enough to make a decision, and if Sally was ready to take a lover, he wanted to be first in line. He finished in a series of turns, pulling her tightly against him, forcing her with pressure in the small of her back to arch away, until she braced her hands against his chest and looked up at him.

“And now is tonight?”

Her lips parted, and he could see the hint of her teeth, the flick of her tongue. Lust shot deep.

“Yes.”

He spun them one last time, before leaning in. “Then let me help you with the enjoying.”

Chapter 2

Kissing Sally was as natural as breathing. Tucker bent and she lifted, participating in the discovery as if she were as hungry for the taste of him as he was for her, her lips already parted when they met his. Soft, demanding with feminine hope. She didn’t have to worry. He wouldn’t let her down in bed. Supporting her with his hand in the small of her back, he arched her closer, not immediately taking advantage of her parted lips, savoring the anticipation, raising it with light nips and easy busses. Grunting as the fire gathered deep inside, built, flashed outward in a near crippling release of pleasure.

“Ah, damn, pretty thing, I knew you’d be like this.”

Her fingers dug into his shoulder, gripping tightly as the shock went through her. No shy miss here, just an open, honest woman very sure of what she wanted, which was good because he’d never been so vividly aware of a woman, the press of her nipples against his chest, the soft graze of her hips, the sweet relaxation of her body against his…Never been so vividly aware of his own senses through a kiss to the point that he could feel his blood surging through his veins, feel her breath whispering over his skin as she relaxed against him with the soft sigh of surrender he’d been imagining for the past six months. Her lips were soft, her muscles taut as she rose up on tiptoe, stoking the fire between them. She pulled back. He allowed it, barely.

There was a touch of wonder in her expression. “Thee kiss like an angel.”

He caught the words in his mouth, holding them, irrationally making more of them than was wise before letting them go and falling into the game, the seduction. Brushing a few strands of hair away from her temple, he smiled as if he weren’t so aroused that he was in danger of simply lifting her, unbuttoning his pants, finding the wet heat of her through the slit in her pantaloons and thrusting deep. “You should see what my devil can do.”

“An angel, a devil, a man and a woman. Our bed is going to be crowded tonight.”

Laughter caught him by surprise, escaping before he could muffle it. “I suppose we could kick a couple out.”

“Good, because I want only thee.”

For tonight. As a young man he’d been slow to hear that silent qualification, but he’d soon learned the reality of this exchange. And the benefits of giving a woman what she wanted. Pretty much, his size and muscle, when combined with the forbidden of his ancestry, meant that no matter what town he landed in, his bed was never empty unless he wanted it to be. Since he’d landed in Lindos for the first time a year ago, he’d slept alone because the only woman he wanted was grieving, but now it looked like his luck was turning. Satisfaction spread right along with his smile. “Good.”

Sally Mae blinked, reached up and touched the corner of his mouth. “Thee are smiling.”

The tenderness, when he expected passion, threw him off balance.

“You’ve seen me smile before.”

She shook her head, leaning back. He liked the way she trusted he’d support her almost as much as he liked the gentle brush of her fingertips over the corner of his lips. “Not a true smile.”

“I’ve got you in my arms with the night in front of me. That’s a lot to be happy about.”

“Will thee think badly of me if I admit I’m smiling for the same reason?”

He pressed experimentally with his fingertips. She responded by snuggling closer, her breath catching as she felt the extent of his desire. “If I say yes, will you try harder to please me?”

“I would be more likely to find a man less persnickety.”

“In that case, absolutely not.”

The softening of her smile let him know she understood his teasing. “Ah, good, because I have my heart set on thee.”

Inside, the music died off. People would be coming out soon to catch a breath of air. They couldn’t stay here.

“What are thee thinking?”

“Where we can go for a little privacy.”

“Thee do not have this all planned?”

The question hit him on a raw spot he had thought long since scabbed over. His mother being Indian didn’t make him an amoral tomcat with nothing better to do than plan the next skirt to lift. “I’ve been busy.”

Trying to find Desi’s sister, Ari, before her uncle’s henchman did. Trying to keep Sam and Bella alive against the outlaws that wanted Sam dead and Bella’s inheritance in their pockets. Trying to keep his hands off Sally Mae.

Sally winced and sighed, her palms pressing against his chest, stroking the apology into his skin. Her fingers tangled in the cord around his neck, sliding down to nudge the bullet he always wore around his neck as a reminder of what happened to those who were weak. “Thee should know I’m not good at this.”

He pulled them away, not liking the thought of her tainted by the memories it harbored. “What exactly is this?”

“This is supposed to be me seducing thee.” She slanted him a look from under her lashes. “I’ve been led to believe it doesn’t take much.”

“To seduce an Indian?”

This time, she slapped his shoulder, the small, painless violence just arousing him more. Pushing back, she glared at him. His hand in the small of her back kept her from putting any real distance between them, but it didn’t keep her from trying. A little of his resentment faded as he quelled the rebellion by lifting her just a bit so her struggles snuggled the ridge of his cock into the V of her thighs. On a sharp gasp, she went utterly still. But she didn’t back down.

“Any man.”

“Your momma tell you that?”

“It was more of a warning, to keep me safe from the base desires of men.”

“And yet, here you are, blatantly tempting my baser self.”

She frowned. “Who wants to aggravate me.”

“Who wants you very much,” he corrected, sliding his hands up her back.

“I’m not so sure I want thee anymore.”

The little liar. The truth was in the way she cuddled against him and the way her eyes watched his lips shape around the words as if imagining other things. “Even if I promise to be very easy to seduce?”

Her fingers dug into his shoulder as he pressed against her in little pulses. “How easy?”

Trailing his fingers down her cheek, over the slight ledge of her shoulder to her chest, he confessed, “Very.”

Biting her lip, she continued to hold still as he found and followed the strap of her camisole beneath her dress. “I could meet thee in the barn.”

The confession came out in a breathless rush that touched his tender side and reminded him she was new to this, likely had never been with anyone but the good doctor. That being the case, this was a very big step for her. The least he could do was make it easy. As his finger hit the bodice of the hidden camisole, he kissed her lips for no reason other than that it had been fifteen seconds since the last time he’d placed his mouth on hers, fifteen seconds since he’d taken her breath as his. Fifteen seconds since he’d felt that particular arc of pleasure go through him. It was no different this time. Pleasure arced in a rich unfurling. And when its journey culminated its race down his spine, settling in his balls, pulling them up tight, it was almost like coming home. This time, when their lips parted, he couldn’t manage easy. His impatience bit into his drawl, dragging it down to a rough growl.

“The barn’s too conspicuous.”

She blinked, not with him yet. Her tongue ran over her lips. “I can sneak.”

As if sneaking was an option. “The rumors will start before you get to the rose garden.”

His staying in her barn when he was in town hadn’t raised suspicions when her husband was alive, but now that she was widowed, a hostile edge had invaded his dealings with some of the town’s more ornery citizens. Pretty much everyone but Sally Mae held his motives in suspicion. And as the days passed, that suspicion was growing.

She sighed and flicked her fingers in dismissal. “Some people lead very boring lives. They seek something to talk about.”

She’d obviously never been on the wrong side of community opinion, otherwise she’d know how much other people’s assumptions could ruin a life. He drew his thumb across the remnants of their kiss, the soft, moist flesh clinging to his calluses.

“Bored people could make life very difficult for you.”

“If I worried about how others see my choices, my life would be equally boring.”

He kind of liked the idea of her life being boring. Predictable. Safe.

“Thankfully, the sacrifice won’t be necessary.” He let her slide down, his breath hissing between his teeth as her stomach slid along his cock. “The moon’s bright enough. I’m thinking that I could meet you down by the pond.”

She ran her hand up his back. “Outside?”

She didn’t sound put off by the idea. He hadn’t really expected her to be. In his experience, being taken outdoors was part of what women expected when they invited him to their bed. “Yes.”

Her fingers pressed against his nape in a fleet kiss of excitement. “I’ll have to take my leave and then stop by the house. I will meet thee in an hour.”

An hour was too damn long. As the only thing he could figure she needed from the house was a blanket, he offered. “I can take the quilt off my bed.”

She stepped back, out of his arms. “Not those kind of things.”

He had a gnawing urge to drag her back. “Care to explain?”

She sighed. “Thee must not take this wrong, but I do not wish to become with child.”

He wasn’t in any particular hurry to be a father, though a part of him couldn’t resist toying with the thought of a child. A little bit of him to go on in the future. He wouldn’t have one, of course. Caught between the Indian world he’d never known and the white world that wouldn’t accept him, there was no place for him, any more than there’d be a place for a child who would no doubt bear his skin color. For him, there were just these stolen moments with different women with no forever on the back end.

“You’ve got a way of stopping that?”

“Yes. Jonah taught me.”

“It works?”

“We were married six years and I do not have a child.”

She sounded neither happy nor sad when she said that, which just struck him as wrong. A woman like Sally Mae, who cared for everyone, would have strong maternal urges. Yet she didn’t have children because her husband had taught her how to avoid it.

Sally’s fingers brushed his, drawing his gaze. “This bothers thee?”

He smiled automatically. “Not a bit.”

She didn’t smile back.

“I do not want thee to take offense, but…” She licked her lips. “I must ask…”

No doubt she wanted to caution him to be gentle. Women always seemed obligated to ask that, as if he weren’t aware of his size and the harm he could do. “What?”

“It occurs to me that a man like thee might already have a woman.”

Shit. He’d rather she’d ask him to be gentle than to be insulting him. “If I did, I wouldn’t be out here kissing you.”

She shook her head, causing moonlight to dance off the crown of braids wrapped around her head as the strings to her white cap danced about her shoulders. He wanted to pull those hairpins out so that heavy swathe of hair spilled like sunlight, brightening the darkness around them.

“I don’t mean to insult thee. It’s just not my way to cause another pain.”

He knew that about her, but it annoyed the hell out of him that she didn’t know the same about him. Then again, why should she? To her, he was a means to an end. “Then you can stop worrying. No one’s expecting me anywhere.”

Except Ari, Caine’s sister-in-law, either dead or held prisoner somewhere out there. But until he received a response to his latest query, he didn’t have a lead to follow so he had no choice other than to stay put.

Sally Mae reached up, cuddling the softness of her breasts into the hardness of his chest. His hand fell naturally to the small of her back, supporting her. There were definitely compensations to staying put. “Except me.”

“Except you.”

He shook his head, feeling her shiver when the ends of his hair f licked across her forearms as her fingers linked behind his neck. She was very sensitive to him. “I’ll be waiting for you at the woods straight off the back door.”

“But what if someone—”

He put his fingers over her lips. “No one’s going to see me unless I want to be seen, but you’re not to walk in the woods at night by yourself.”

“I have done it many times. Two nights ago, in fact.”

“I know.”

She frowned. “Thee watched?”

“I kept guard.”

Her smile caressed his fingertips. “Thee always watch over me.”

“I owe you.”

She went still against him again.

“What?”

Her hands slid down to his shoulders. “Thee are not planning on being with me tonight because thee feel obligated?”

Only a woman could come to that conclusion. “Moonbeam, I’m not that nice a guy.”

The mischief came back to her smile. “Good.”

It was foolish. Someone could come out any second, and the one thing he never was, was foolish. But when Sally looked at him like that—part seductress, part challenge—he lost all sense of civilization. Yanking her into his arms, he kissed her with all the hunger she roused—hard enough to bruise, hard enough to leave an impression. And when he let her go, she swayed, her gray eyes glazed over with the same passion tearing through him. Hell, when he finally got her to himself, they were going to set the grass on fire.

Touching his finger to the kiss-swollen center of her bottom lip, he drew it away from her teeth, revealing the moist inner lining. He licked his lips, savoring her taste. Tonight he’d know what she tasted like all over. Tucking his finger under her chin, he lifted her face to his.

“Don’t make me wait too long.”

Sally stood in front of her mirror, studying her reflection. Tucker McCade was waiting for her out in the woods. The illicit thrill that went through her was very much out of place, but exciting. Staring at the mirror, she wondered what he saw in her. She was a plain woman with plain ways, wearing a plain dress. She had nothing frilly under her dress, such as the saloon girls wore to entice a man. No fancy scents to please his senses. She was just Sally Mae Schermerhorn, widow of Jonah Schermerhorn, mother to none, daughter to none. A woman who’d come west in the hope of finding the sense of belonging that she’d never had, even amidst the accepting arms of the people who had taken her in when she was ten. Even in the arms of her husband.