ThE BUCKHORN LEGACY. Lori Foster

making him defensive and fractious and keenly alert. Emma had influenced his life when he hadn’t thought that possible. Forgetting her hadn’t been easy.

      In fact, he’d never managed it.

      Just the opposite.

      At twenty-seven, his solid position within his stepgrandfather’s company should have been enhanced with a wife on his arm and a couple of kids underfoot, just as he’d always intended. Instead, no woman had ever quite measured up.

      The bitch of it was, he had no idea what they needed to measure up to. He didn’t even know what he was looking for.

      Until moments ago, when he saw Emma standing there.

      As always, her eyes had been huge and soft, and all his senses had quickened with recognition. He hadn’t experienced that rush of pure, white-hot intensity since… No, he wouldn’t do that, wouldn’t give her credit she didn’t deserve. She’d run out on him and he wasn’t quite ready to forgive her for that. But he was more than ready to take what he’d often regretted missing so many years ago.

      Her small hands lifted to press against his chest, burning him, heightening the ache. “Casey…”

      The way she said his name was familiar. Did she want him to stop or, like him, was she anxious to feel the flash fire of their unique chemistry? Her appearance, her attitude, were different. But her natural sensuality hadn’t waned at all. Instead, it had aged and ripened and gotten better, richer. No woman had ever affected him like Emma did, and now, with no effort at all, she’d gotten him hot.

      She wasn’t a lonely, insecure child anymore.

      She wasn’t afraid, wasn’t mistreated.

      He had no reason to hold back, no reason to still feel protective. Damn it.

      Without thought, Casey let his fingers stroke the nape of her neck. Just as it always had, her softness drew him, the remembered texture of her skin, her hair and her scent… God, he loved her scent. Heady and warm, it mingled with the damp fog and the gentle evening breeze.

      He felt alive. He felt challenged.

      “Emma?”

      Her thick lashes lifted.

      “Are you married?”

      She shook her head, causing the silky weight of her hair to glide over his arm.

      “Engaged?”

      “No.” She pulled her head back a little and Casey kissed her throat, nuzzling her fragrant skin, breathing her in. A sound of near desperation slipped past her open lips. “Are you…?”

      “Hell no. There’s no one.” He didn’t want to talk about that though. “You feel good, Em. You smell even better.”

      “Casey.”

      If she kept saying his name like that, he’d lose it. “You know, since you and Damon aren’t involved…” If she had no commitments to anyone, then why not? It didn’t matter that he rushed things. They were both grown now, both adults, so Emma could damn well make a rational decision now, rather than one based on fear and insecurity.

      “Damon and I are friends.” A measure of steel laced her declaration.

      Had she misunderstood his suggestion?

      Casey drew back so he could see her face. Her heavy lashes half covered her eyes as she watched him warily. She remained guarded, but she didn’t push him away. He tried a different tack. “You’re staying at the Cross Roads tonight.”

      “Yes.”

      Adulthood had provided new dimension to her features. Her cheekbones were more noticeable, her mouth wider, fuller, her jaw firm. She was lovely—and he had to have her. “You’ll be sleeping alone?” Which would make it easy for him to join her.

      Her gaze flickered away, and his stomach knotted even before she spoke. “That’s none of your business, Casey.”

      Frustration unfurled in his guts, making his tone raw with sarcasm. “Sounds like a no to me.”

      Chin lifted, she faced him squarely and confirmed his suspicions. “No. I won’t sleep alone.”

      Very slowly, doing his best to rein in his seldom-seen temper, Casey released her and moved back to his own seat. The sexual turbulence remained, gnawing at him, testing him, but now other, darker emotions gripped him too. He didn’t want to study them too closely. “I see.”

      He could feel her turmoil. And he could taste her interest, damn her. It was there, shimmering between them. Yet, she’d be with Damon, her friend.

      Once long ago, Casey had been her friend. Probably her best friend, if not the only one. He’d told her then that he didn’t share. That much hadn’t changed. He wanted her, but on his terms.

      And that’s how he’d have her.

      Emma slowly straightened in her seat and stared straight ahead. “I seriously doubt that you see anything.”

      The dog stuck his head over the seat and whined. Emma shifted enough to pat him, then buried her face in his scruff. “It’s okay, B.B.”

      Casey sat in brooding silence for several moments, watching as she comforted the big dog. Slashes of moonlight silhouetted her body and the slow movements of her stroking hands through thick fur. She ignored him as if he didn’t exist, not once looking at him. It didn’t matter.

      Despite any protest Devaughn might make, Casey knew he’d eventually have her.

      By her own admission, she wasn’t married, wasn’t engaged, so no one, Damon included, had any real claim on her. That left Casey free to do as he pleased. And it would please him a hell of a lot to take care of unfinished business so he could get her out of his system and get on with his life. It felt as if he’d been on hold for eight years. Now, finally, he’d discover what he’d missed so many years ago. Finally, he’d appease the ache.

      Because he knew he’d lost ground by letting her see his anger, Casey changed his tack. “I got the money you sent.”

      Startled, she released the dog. “I’m sorry I took it in the first place. It was wrong.”

      “You know I’d have given it to you if you’d asked.” She nodded without recognizing the outright lie. Hell, if Emma had asked him for money, he’d have known her plans and rather than leave her alone that night, he’d have kept close to her. He’d have stayed with her and everything would have turned out different.

      He wouldn’t have lost her for so long.

      Remembering that night still made Casey tense. So many times over the years, he’d replayed it in his head, thinking of things he should have done, should have said. He’d given up on ever seeing her again.

      Now she’d returned, and he’d done nothing but paw her. He wanted to tell her that he’d missed her, that she’d left a void in his life. But, damn it, she’d walked out on him without a backward glance. It still pissed him off.

      “Where did you go when you left, Em?”

      More silence. She turned her head to stare out the window.

      Not bothering to hide his exasperation, Casey said, “C’mon, Emma. Hell, it’s been damn near a decade. Does it really matter if you tell me?” He couldn’t soften his tone, couldn’t soften his reaction to her. Emma had always had the ability to make him feel things he didn’t want to feel, to feel things he hadn’t felt since she’d left him.

      He could see her resistance, her reticence. She didn’t trust him, never really had, and that bothered him most of all. “You came to me once, Emma. Why can’t you talk to me now?”

      “People change over time, Casey.”

      “Me or you?”

      “In eight years? I’d say both.” Turning from the window, she looked