Not Even for Love(44)

“Be careful.”

He cradled her cheek with his free hand. “I promise. Kiss me good-bye.” She went up on her toes and kissed him sweetly on the mouth.

He didn’t speak again before he went out into the storm and slammed the door behind him. Left alone, Jordan paced the shed restlessly, listening for the sound of his return. She went to the stove, picked up a log from the stack, remembered that they must be conservative, and returned it.

She checked the blanket. It was still damp, so she moved it nearer to the fire. She was nervous and her nerves only increased a problem that had been plaguing her for an hour or more. Why had she drunk so much wine with lunch?

“I won’t think about it,” she said aloud. But the harder she tried not to think about it, the more aware of her discomfort she became. Finally, she decided there was only one solution. She would have to go outside and relieve the problem.

At the door she listened to the howling wind and almost changed her mind, but she flung open the door before she could think about it any longer. She pulled the door firmly closed behind her. Huddling against the wind, she scuttled around one side of the building. The land sloped away from it and the immediate area had been cleared of trees. She decided it was too wide open. Dashing around to the back of the shed, she saw a crib where firewood and heavier farm implements had been stored. She stepped over the rail of the crib and hid herself between the stacks of wood.

When she was done, she refastened her jeans, sighing in tremendous relief. She wasted no time in climbing out of the crib and running back to the front of the shed.

With her head lowered in protection from the stinging wind, she didn’t see Reeves before she ran headlong into him. She jerked her head up. His eyes were wild, his mouth anguished. He held her in a death grip. Stumbling over their own feet, he dragged her back into the shed and shut the door, still clasping her to him.

“God, Jordan, don’t ever do that to me again.” His voice was quivering. “You scared the hell out of me.” He dropped to the tarps on the floor and took several heaving breaths.

She wasn’t sure what she had done, but she stammered an apology. “I’m …I’m sorry…I didn’t …”

“I came back in and you weren’t here. I thought you had gone out to find me. I died a thousand deaths.” He reached up and grabbed her hand, pulled her down beside him, and held her close. “Where were you?”

“I had to go to the bathroom.”

He laughed then in relief. “I didn’t think of that.”

She leaned against him. “Did you get some water?”

“Yeah.” He indicated the full bucket standing next to the stove. “But in light of what you just did to me, you can’t drink any.”

“Tyrant.”

“That’s right. I’m a jealous despot.” He kissed her with hard, unyielding lips. “This is my castle and don’t you forget it.”

“You’d better treat me nice. I know where the extra firewood is hidden,” she said cockily.

He tweaked her nose. “So do I. I saw it on my way out.”

“Oh.” She gnawed her bottom lip in make-believe helplessness. “Then pray tell, Exalted One, what I can do to stay in your good graces.” Her eyelashes fluttered so comically that Reeves bit his lip to keep from bursting out with laughter.

He stretched out on the tarp and propped himself on his elbows. “I don’t know. I’ll be thinking on it while you serve me dinner.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” She bowed her head and then, when she raised it, stuck out her tongue at him.

“Thirty lashes,” he roared, pointing a condemning finger at her.

She faked a swoon that brought her along his side in a most delicious proximity. “Oh, kind sir, I beg you to have mercy.” She shifted her weight until she was leaning over him.

“Very well. Thirty lashes or thirty kisses.”

She considered her alternatives for a moment, her eyes squinted and her brow furrowed. “Thirty lashes,” she said impudently. Immediately she was rolled to her back and pinned beneath him.

“I’ve changed my mind. No mercy,” he growled before he kissed her. What had started out playfully soon became serious, and her arms folded across his neck. A sea of passion engulfed them and it was long moments before they broke the surface.

He dropped light kisses on each feature of her face. “Jordan?”

“Hm?”

“I’m starving.”

“How romantic.”

“I’ve got to keep up my strength,” he said defensively.

“So you can blaze a trail down the mountain?”