Boundary Lines Read online

  “I don’t need cash,” Aaron repeated, lounging back on the couch. “I want a foal, take it or leave it.”

  Oh, she’d like to leave it. She’d like to have tossed it back in his face. Simmering, she stalked over to the window and stared out. It surprised her that she didn’t. Until that moment Jillian hadn’t realized just how much she wanted to breed those two horses. Another hunch, she thought, remembering the bull. She could feel that something special would come out of it. Clay had often told her she had a feel. More than once she’d singled out an animal for no other reason than a feeling. Now she had to weigh that with the absurdity of Aaron’s suggestion.

  She stared hard out of the window into the full night, full dark. Behind her, Aaron remained silent, waiting, watching her with a faint smile. He wondered if she knew just how lovely she was when she was annoyed. It was tempting to keep her that way.

  “I get the first foal,” she said suddenly. “You get the second. It’s my mare who’s taking the risk in pregnancy, who won’t be any use for working when she’s at term and nursing. I’m the one bearing the brunt of the expense.”

  Aaron considered a moment. She was playing it precisely as he’d have done himself if the situation was reversed. He found it pleased him. “We breed her back as soon as she’s weaned the foal.”

  “Agreed. You pay half the vet bills—on both foalings.”

  His brows raised. Whatever she knew about cattle, she wasn’t a fool when it came to horse trading. “Half,” he agreed. “We breed them as soon as she comes in season.”

  With a nod, Jillian offered her hand on it. “Do you want to draw up the papers or shall I?”

  Standing, Aaron took her hand. “I’m not particular. A handshake’s binding enough for me.”

  “Agreed,” she said again. “But it never hurts to have words written down.”

  He grinned, skimming his thumb over her knuckles. “Don’t you trust me, Jillian?”

  “Not an inch,” she said easily, then laughed because he seemed more pleased than offended. “No, not an inch. And you’d be disappointed if I did.”

  “You have a way of cutting through to the heart of things. It’s a pity I’ve been away for five years.” He inclined his head. “But I have a feeling we’ll be making up for lost time.”

  “I haven’t lost any time,” Jillian countered. “Now that we’ve concluded our business successfully, Murdock, I have a long day tomorrow.”

  He tightened his fingers on hers before she could turn away. “Not all our business.”

  “All I came for.” Her voice was cool, even when he stepped closer. “I don’t want to make a habit out of hitting you.”

  “You won’t connect this time.” He took her other hand and held both lightly, though not so lightly she could draw away. “I’m going to have you, Jillian.”

  She didn’t try to pull her hands away. She didn’t back up. Her eyes stayed level with his and her voice just as matter-of-fact. “The hell you are.”

  “And when I do,” he went on as if she hadn’t spoken, “it’s not going to be something either one of us is going to forget. You stirred something in me”—he yanked her closer so that the unrelieved white of her skirt flowed against the stark black of his slacks—“from the first minute I saw you. It hasn’t settled yet.”

  “Your problem.” She angled her chin, but her voice was breathless. “You don’t interest me, Murdock.”

  “Tell me that again,” he challenged, “in just a minute.”

  He brought his mouth down on hers, harder, rougher than he’d intended. His emotions seemed to have no middle ground with her. It was either all soft tenderness or raw passion. Her arms strained against his hold, her body jerked as if to reject him. Then he felt it—the instant she became as consumed as he. In seconds his arms were around her, and hers around him.

  It felt just as she’d wanted it to. Heady, overpowering. She could forget everything but that delicious churning within her own body. The rich flavor of wine that lingered on his tongue would make her drunk, but it didn’t matter. Her head could whirl and spin, but she could only be grateful for the giddiness. With unapologetic passion, she met his demand with demand.

  When his mouth left hers, she would have protested, but the sound became a moan as his lips raced down her throat. Instinctively she tilted her head back to give him more freedom, and the sharp scent of soap drifted over her, laced with a hint of sandalwood. Then his mouth was at her ear, his teeth tugging and nipping before he whispered something she didn’t understand. The words didn’t matter, the sound alone made her tremble. With a murmur of desperation, she dragged his lips back to hers.

  Jillian was demanding he take more. Aaron could feel the strain of her body against his and knew she was aching to be touched. But his hands were still tangled in her hair as they tumbled onto the couch. Then his hands were everywhere, and he couldn’t touch enough fast enough. Her body was so slender under all those yards of thin white cotton. So responsive. Her breast was almost lost under the span of his hand, yet it was so firm. And her heartbeat pounded like thunder beneath it.

  His legs tangled with hers before he slipped between them. When she sank into the cushions, he nearly lost himself in the simple give of her body. His mouth ravaged hers—he couldn’t prevent it, she didn’t protest. She only answered and demanded until he was half mad again. Her scent, part subtle, part sultry, enveloped him so that he knew he’d be able to smell her when she was miles from him. He could hear her breath rush from between her lips into his mouth, where it whispered warm and sweet and promising.

  Her body was responding of its own accord while her mind raced off in a dozen directions. His weight, that hard, firm press of his body, felt so good, so natural against hers. Those rough, ruthless kisses gave her everything she needed long before she knew she needed it. He threatened her with words of passion that were only whispered madness in a world of color without form.

  His cheek grazed hers as his lips raced over her face. No one had ever wanted her like this. But more, she’d never wanted this wildly. Her only taste of lovemaking had been so mild, so quiet. Nothing had prepared her for a violence of need that came from within herself. She wanted to fly with it. Too much.

  His hand skimmed up her leg, seeking, and everything that was inside her built to a fever pitch. If it exploded, she’d be lost. Pieces of herself might scatter so that she’d never be strong enough to stand on her own again.

  In a panic, she began to struggle while part of her fought to yield. And to take.

  “No.” Moaning, she pushed against him.

  “Jillian, for God’s sake.” Her name came out in a gasp as he felt himself drowning.

  “No!” With the strength of fear, she managed to shove him aside and scramble up. Before either of them could think, she was dashing outside, running away from something that followed much too closely. Aaron was cursing steadily when he caught her.

  “What the hell’s wrong with you?” he demanded as he whipped her back around.

  “Let me go! I won’t be pawed that way.”

  “Pawed?” He didn’t even hear her gasp as his fingers tightened. “Damn you,” he said under his breath. “You were doing some pawing of your own, if that’s what you want to call it.”

  “Just let me go,” she said unsteadily. “I told you I don’t like to be touched.”

  “Oh, you like to be touched,” he grated, then caught the glint of fear in her eyes. There was pride there as well, a kind of terrorized pride laced with passion. It reminded him sharply of the eyes of a stallion he’d once tied in a stall. Then he realized his fingers were digging into the flesh of very slender arms.

  No, he wasn’t a gentle man, but she was the first and only woman who’d caused him to lose control to the point where he’d marked her skin. Carefully he loosened his hold without releasing her. Even as his fingers relaxed, he knew he could drag her back inside and have her willing to give herself to him within moments. But some things you di
dn’t fence.

  “Jillian.” His voice was still rough, only slightly calmer. “You can postpone what’s going to happen between us, but you can’t stop it.” She opened her mouth, but he shook his head in warning. “No, you’d be much better off not to say anything just now. I want you, and at the moment it’s a damned uncomfortable feeling. I’m going to take you home while I’ve got myself convinced I play by the rules. It wouldn’t take me long to remember I’ve never followed any.”

  He pulled open the passenger door, then strode around to the driver’s seat without another word. They drove away in a silence that remained thick for miles. Because her body was still throbbing, Jillian sat very straight. She cursed Aaron, then when she began to calm, she cursed herself. She’d wanted him, and every time he touched her, her initial restraint vanished within moments.

  The hands in her lap balled into fists. There was a name for a woman who was willing and eager one moment and hurling accusations the next. It wasn’t pleasant. She’d never played that kind of game and had nothing but disdain for anyone who did.

  He had a right to be furious, Jillian admitted, but then, so did she. He was the one who’d come barging into her life, stirring things up she wanted left alone. She didn’t want to feel all those hungers, all those aches that raged through her when he held her.

  She couldn’t give in to them. Once she did, she’d start depending. If that happened, she’d start chipping away at her own self-reliance until he had more of who and what she was than she did. It had happened before and the need had been nothing like this. She’d gotten a hint, during that strangely gentle kiss in his kitchen, just how easily she could lose herself to him. And yet . . . Yet when it was all said and done, Jillian was forced to admit, she’d acted like an idiot. The one thing she detested more than anything else was finding herself in the wrong.

  A deer bounded over the fence to the left, pausing in the road, as it was trapped in the headlights. Even as Aaron braked, it was sprinting off, slender legs lifting as it took the next fence and disappeared into the darkness. The sight warmed Jillian as it always did. With a soft laugh, she turned back to see the smile in Aaron’s eyes. The flood of emotion swamped her.

  “I’m sorry.” The words came quickly, before she realized she would say them. “I overreacted.”

  He gave her a long look. He’d wanted to stay angry. Somehow it was easier—now it was impossible. “Maybe we both did. We have a tendency to spark something off each other.”

  She couldn’t deny that, but neither did she want to think about it too carefully just then. “Since we’re going to have to deal with each other from time to time, maybe we should come to some kind of understanding.”

  A smile began to tug at his mouth. “That sounds reasonable. What kind of understanding did you have in mind?”

  “We’re business associates,” she said very dryly because of the amusement in his question.

  “Uh-huh.” Aaron rested his arm on the back of the seat as he began to enjoy himself.

  “Do you practice being an idiot, Murdock, or does it come naturally?”

  “Oh, no, no insults, Jillian. We’re coming to an understanding.”

  Jillian fought against a grin and lost. “You have a strange sense of humor.”

  “A keen sense of the ridiculous,” he countered. “So we’re business associates. You forgot neighbors.”

  “And neighbors,” she agreed with a nod. “Colleagues, if you want to belabor a point.”

  “Belabor it,” Aaron suggested. “But can I ask you a question?”

  “Yes.” She drew out the word cautiously.

  “What is the point?”

  “Damn it, Aaron,” she said with a laugh. “I’m trying to put things in order so I don’t end up apologizing again. I hate apologizing.”

  “I like the way you do it, very simple and sincere right before you lose your temper again.”

  “I’m not going to lose my temper again.”

  “I’ll give you five to one.”

  “Damn it, Aaron.” Her laugh rippled, low and smooth. “If I took that bet, you’d go out of your way to make me mad.”

  “You see, we understand each other already. But you were telling me your point.” He pulled into the darkened ranch yard. The light from Jillian’s front porch spilled into the car and cast his face in shadows.

  “We could have a successful business association if we both put a lot of effort into it.”

  “Agreed.” He turned and in the small confines of the car was already touching her. Just the skim of his fingers over her shoulder, the brush of leg against leg.

  “We’ll continue to be neighbors because neither of us is moving. As long as we remember those things, we should be able to deal with each other without too much fighting.”

  “You forgot something.”

  “Did I?”

  “You’ve said what we are to each other, not what we’re going to be.” He watched her eyes narrow.

  “Which is?”

  “Lovers.” He ran his finger casually down the side of her neck. “I still mean to have you.”

  Jillian let out a long breath and worked on keeping her temper in check. “It’s obvious you can’t carry on a reasonable conversation.”

  “A lot of things are obvious.” He put his hand over hers as she reached for the handle. With their faces close, he let his gaze linger on her mouth just long enough for the ache to spread. “I’m not a patient man,” Aaron murmured. “But there are some things I can wait for.”

  “You’ll have a long wait.”

  “Maybe longer than I’d like,” he agreed. “But shorter than you think.” His hand was still over hers as he pressed down the handle to release the door. “Sleep well, Jillian.”

  She swung out of the car, then gave him a smoldering look. “Don’t cross the line until you’re invited, Murdock.” Slamming the door, she sprinted up the steps, cursing the low, easy laughter that followed her.

  * * *

  In the days that followed, Jillian tried not to think about Aaron. When she couldn’t stop him from creeping into her mind, she did her best to think of him with scorn. Occasionally she was successful enough to dismiss him as a spoiled, willful man who was used to getting what he wanted by demanding it. If she were successful, she could forget that he made her laugh, made her want.

  Her days were long and full and demanding enough that she had little time to dwell on him or her feelings. But though the nights were growing shorter, she swore against the hours she spent alone and unoccupied. It was then she remembered exactly how it felt to be held against him. It was then she remembered how his eyes could laugh while the rest of his face remained serious and solemn. And how firm and strong his mouth could be against hers.

  She began to rise earlier, to work later. She exhausted herself on the range or in the outbuildings until she could tumble boneless into bed. But still there were dreams.

  Jillian was out in the pasture as soon as it was light. The sky was still tipped with the colors of sunrise so that gold and rose tinted the hazy blue. Like most of her men, she wore a light work jacket and chaps as they began the job of rounding up the first hundred calves and cows for corral branding. This part of the job would be slow and easy. It was too common to run twenty-five pounds off a cow with a lot of racing and roping. A good deal of the work could be done on foot, the rest with experienced horses or four wheels. If they hazed the mothers along gently, the babies would follow.

  Jillian turned Delilah, keeping her at a walk as she urged a cow and calf away from a group of heifers. She looked forward to a long hard morning and the satisfaction of a job well done. When she saw Joe slowly prodding cows along on foot, she tipped her hat to him.

  “I always thought branding was a kind of stag party,” he commented as he came alongside of her.

  Looking down, she laughed. “Not on Utopia.” She looked around as punchers nudged cows along with soft calls and footwork. “When we brand again in a couple o
f days, the plane should be in. God knows it’ll be easier to spot the strays.”

  “You’ve been working too hard. No, don’t give me that look,” he insisted. “You know you have. What’s up?”

  Aaron sneaked past her defenses, but now she just shook her head. “Nothing. It’s a busy time of year. We’ll be haying soon, first crop should come in right after the spring branding. Then there’s the rodeo.” She glanced down again as Delilah shifted under her. “I’m counting on those blue ribbons, Joe.”

  “You’ve been working from first light to last for a week,” he pointed out. “You’re entitled to a couple days off.”

  “The boss is the last one entitled to a couple days off.” Satisfied that her cows had joined the slowly moving group headed for the pasture, she wheeled Delilah around. She spotted a calf racing west, spooked by the number of men, horses, and trucks. Sending Delilah into an easy lope, Jillian went after him.

  Her first amusement at the frantic pace the dogie was setting faded as she saw he was heading directly for the wire. With a soft oath, she nudged more speed out of her mare and reached for her rope. With an expert movement of arm and wrist, she swung it over her head, then shot it out to loop over the maverick’s neck. Jillian pulled him up a foot from the wire where he cried and struggled until his mother caught up.

  “Dumb cow,” she muttered as she dismounted to release him. “Fat lot of good you’d’ve done yourself if you’d tangled in that.” She cast a glance at the sharp points of wire before she slipped the rope from around his head. The mother eyed her with annoyance as she began to recoil the rope. “Yeah, you’re welcome,” Jillian told her with a grin. Glancing over, she saw Gil crossing to her on foot. “Still think you can beat my time in July?” she demanded.

  “You put too much fancy work on the spin.”

  Though his words were said in his usual rough-and-ready style, something in his eyes alerted her. “What is it?”

  “Something you oughta see down here a ways.”