Thunder Horse Redemption. Elle James

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.

      Pierce frowned as he buttoned his shirt. “It’s not safe to go there without an escort. And I’ll need to go with you, anyway, in order to bring Sassy back with me.” She started to protest, but his jaw tightened and he held up a hand. “Give it up, Roxanne, I’m not taking no for an answer. You’re still in danger, and I’m not going to let you ride around this area by yourself.”

      Roxanne fought the urge to scream in frustration. She couldn’t deny that he was right about the danger of riding alone, but she hated to think that she was dependent on him, that she needed his help or protection. She’d spent the past two months convincing herself that she was fine on her own, that she didn’t need Pierce or anyone else. Then on the very day that he rode back into her life, she found herself forced to rely on him. And worse, in spite of all her strong, fervent resolutions, she’d even ended up falling back into his arms.

      “Just because we…”

      “Almost made love?”

      “Just because we almost had sex,” she corrected him firmly, “doesn’t change anything between us. It was a mistake that will never happen again.”

      Pierce nodded slowly, his dark eyes black and intense. He looked as hurt and tormented as she felt, and in spite of all her anger and pain, part of her still longed to reach out to him, to comfort him and be comforted in return. But that wasn’t possible.

      “I know,” he said, and walked away.

      THEY EMERGED FROM THE cave cautiously, Pierce leading the strange little group of humans and horses. Roxanne blinked in the sunlight, her eyes adjusting from the shadows.

      Cetan whinnied, shifting from side to side at the end of his lead.

      The colt twisted and reared, tugging at the end of the rope Pierce used to lead her out.

      A quick scan of the canyon floor revealed the presence of the herd of wild horses. Separating herself from the rest, Sweet Jessie trotted toward them.

      Roxanne studied the way the mare moved. “She appears to be all right.”

      “I can see where she was hit. She has a streak of blood on her right shoulder. But it doesn’t seem to bother her.”

      Roxanne chewed on her bottom lip. “I’d like to inspect her more closely, but I’m afraid capturing her might cause further injury.”

      The colt pulled hard against the lead, squealing in a high-pitched cry for her mother.

      “We’ll keep an eye on her.”

      “I’ll keep an eye on her,” Roxanne replied. “It’s not like you’ll be around once the wedding is over, anyway. You’ll be back to your FBI work.”

      There was a pause as Pierce seemed to be wrestling over what to say. The foal took the decision out of his hands as she struggled against the rope until Pierce could barely maintain his grip. “In the meantime, this little one wants her mama. I can hold her, if you can loosen the buckle on the halter.” He held the frightened animal steady.

      Roxanne slipped the straps free of the buckle and slid the halter over the filly’s head, her fingers brushing