Hotter Than Hell(67)

“You are tired,” Andrés said. “Sleep, gatita. No harm will come to you.”



Laughter bubbled out of her throat before she could stop it. “I think I’ll stay awake, thank you very much.”



Andrés stretched out where he was and made himself comfortable, resting on his elbow. “You were not always so frightened,” he said.



Cat straightened. “What the hell does that mean?”



“You are from la ciudad, are you not?”



“I’m from Los Angeles. What of it?”



“I have heard that your great cities have no soul, that those who live in them have forgotten the look of the sky and the feel of the earth.”



“That’s crazy.” Careful. “Haven’t you been to a city before?”



“Sí. Long ago, in another place.” His gaze turned inward, remembering. “I had no love for them, even then. It is why I came to this continent.”



“You’re not from Mexico?”



His eyes cleared. “Did your own people not come from Méjico?”



“My grandmother was born there. She journeyed alone to the United States when she was sixteen.”



“Was it she who named you?”



“Catalina was her name.”



“Ah.” He plucked a blade of dry, fringed grass from a clump near his shoulder. “Do you know its meaning?” He twirled the grass between his fingers. “Pure. Innocent. When did you lose your innocence, mi gatita? What is the name of the man who hurt you?”



“No one hurt me.”



“Your eyes betray you, querida. Was he your esposo?”



“The subject is private.”



He got to his feet with that same feral grace and approached her, hands loose at his sides. “He was not the man for you. He mistreated you. He gave you no pleasure.”



Cat blinked, startled to realize that she was on the brink of tears. “He didn’t…It had nothing to do with—”



“You would blame yourself?” He stopped with the tips of his boots touching hers, such gentleness in his expression that she could hardly bear it.



“No. I should never have…I thought I knew what I wanted.”



“And still you do not know.” He lifted his hand, his fingers lightly touching her cheek. “I could teach you.”



Her mind told her to jerk away, but her body held her captive to his caresses. “I came here…to be alone.”



“So alone.” He leaned into her, lips parted. His body pressed her thighs and hip and breast. His mouth closed over hers, tongue seeking.



Cat plunged into a maelstrom of desire. She returned the kiss, panting with excitement. She had no defense when he seized both of her wrists and pulled them up above her head, trapping them against the cottonwood’s trunk. He held her easily with one hand while his other stroked her face, trailed over her breasts and paused to unfasten the button of her jeans.



The rational part of Cat’s brain knew how simple it would be for him to complete what he’d begun while she slept. How easy it would be to give in.



You want it. You want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.



His fingers slipped under her panties, teasing hot and swollen flesh.



“So wet,” he murmured into her ear. “So ready for me.”



“I…I don’t…”



He traced her lips with his tongue while his fingers circled. “You do,” he said. “Tell me, gatita. Tell me what you want.”



She tried to answer, but he didn’t wait. He withdrew his hand and began to push her jeans down her thighs, working her panties off as he cupped her bottom. He released her hands and held her with the weight of his body while he unzipped his jeans. The heat of his cock caressed her inner thigh, eased over slick flesh, thrust aggressively against her damp curls.



Sanity returned like a blast of icy wind. Panic gave Cat strength she didn’t know she had. A sharp shove was enough to throw Andrés off balance. Cat stumbled away from the cottonwood and stopped, frozen by emotions that demanded more of her than she could ever give.



Andrés turned to face her, his expression unreadable. Slowly he bent and picked up her jeans. He tossed them toward her, and she caught them reflexively.



“I see that the time is not yet right,” he said. “But it will come, Catalina. It will come.”



Without another word he walked into the darkness. Cat pulled on her jeans, fingers numb and trembling. She could think of nothing but getting far away from this place, even if she had to walk all the way back to the ranch. It wasn’t fear of Andrés that drove her. It was fear of herself.