Ruthless Heart. Emma Lang

hers with water to drink from the canteen instead of coffee, he watched her.

      Eliza did seem harmless at first glance. He had a sneaking feeling she’d continue to follow him, using her damn books to guide her, unless he allowed her to ride with him. Since he still wasn’t sure exactly what she was after, it was probably a better idea to keep her where he could see her. Some old saying about keeping friends close and keeping enemies closer rang in his head.

      He’d be wise to heed that warning and keep Eliza within sight until he figured out exactly what she wanted.

      Eliza wanted to moan in pain and confusion, but she held it all in through sheer force of will. She had woken to the most beautiful pleasure she’d ever experienced, then it was taken from her instantly. Her body was excruciatingly sore, yet it still called out for Grady’s touch.

      She’d never thought much about the sexual act between a man and woman beyond procreation, and of course what she’d read in books. It was a simple physical act, or at least that’s what she’d thought before now. There was nothing simple about what happened beneath her blanket.

      His mouth, his tongue, and his hands. Sweet bliss with every second he’d touched her. Eliza wanted to weep from the perfection of those moments. As a scientist she appreciated the attraction between two bodies; as a woman she felt things for the first time.

      Grady had been angry, as she knew he would be, but beneath the anger, she sensed confusion for him as well. He didn’t know she’d be beside him when he woke, and she didn’t fault him for his actions even for a moment. The bald truth was she enjoyed it too much to think badly of him, although she knew she should have. What they did was meant to be done between a man and wife, not two strangers under a blanket.

      Perhaps his confusion was rooted in the same cause as hers—there was no reason for them to be attracted to each other much less find physical pleasure, yet they were and they did. Eliza had spent enough time around animals to recognize the signs when two creatures were aroused. That fact was undeniable as the erection in his trousers.

      As she worked around camp cooking and cleaning up, her legs ached with pain, but she knew that muscles reacted to stretching to heal. Each time she bent over, she pushed herself to stretch even farther, until her body shook and she could hardly stand it. However, it was working, and each time she stretched, the better she felt afterward.

      It was only after they’d eaten and cleaned up that she realized he hadn’t answered her request to guide her or her offer to cook and keep camp for him. His bawdy suggestion about other services still echoed in her head. Her chagrin had been compounded by the fact she was embarrassed enough for her cheeks to heat. She couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.

      “If, and that’s a big damn if, I let you tag along with me, we’re going to have to set some rules.” Grady’s voice nearly scared a year off her life. He’d come up behind her as she rinsed off the pan using the sand in the creek.

      “What sort of rules?” She wiped the pan and stood up. Since this was the first time they’d actually stood nose to nose, or rather nose to chest, Eliza was quite surprised at how tall he was. Their previous encounters had been at a distance or on the ground; she had no reference as to their full distance in height.

      It was almost a foot.

      Up close, his whiskers were nearly menacing in his sculpted cheeks. However, it was his eyes that told her the true story. In the morning light, they were dark brown with tiny flecks of gold that sparkled, topped with long, thick lashes. All in all, quite lovely eyes even if they were looking at her with impatience.

      She stopped perusing him for a moment to realize what he said. He’d decided to take her with him!

      “First, we ride when I say, how long I say, and you don’t complain about any of it. Second, you don’t tell me how to do anything, no matter what any of your books say.”

      “Somewhat stringent rules for being a traveling companion.” Eliza didn’t want to tell him she wasn’t sure she could ride at all, given the current state of her thighs and buttocks.

      “It’s going to be my way or nothing at all.”

      “Then your rules are accepted provided you agree to allow me to cook and make camp in payment for your services.” She had to secure her own terms or he may think her too easy.

      “My services? You make everything sound so fancy, woman.”

      “My name is Eliza. Calling me ‘woman’ makes me think of a Neanderthal who may grab my hair and club me.” Eliza didn’t know what possessed her to say that to him. It apparently surprised him as much as it surprised her. “What I meant to say was, please call me Eliza.”

      His gaze narrowed. “I think you’ve got a smart mouth, Eliza. I prefer my women a bit dumber.”

      With that, he turned away and walked toward his horse. “We’re leaving in ten minutes. Be ready or get left behind.”

      Eliza wanted to shout with joy, but she kept it bottled inside. It would not do for him to see the victory dance in her eyes or on her tongue. However, it was a definite victory considering Eliza had spent her life in a small house in a small ward with a small-minded father. She’d broken free from the yoke forced upon her since birth.

      She wanted to throw back her head and howl in triumph.

      Instead, she walked over to her horse and began readying Melba for another day of riding. She got the blanket on just fine, but when she reached down to pick up the saddle, it was scooped up from her reach. To her utter astonishment, Grady put it on the horse for her.

      “Cinch it.” The man was used to giving orders.

      Although Eliza wanted to respond that she wasn’t a dog to be ordered what to do, she knew it wasn’t a wise idea. She didn’t want to jeopardize that fragile agreement five minutes after it happened.

      She did as she was bid and finished getting ready, even packing his saddlebags and bringing them to him. He frowned at her when she brought them over.

      “I mean to keep to my word to cook and clean.” Eliza went to retrieve her own bags, when he grabbed her arm.

      There were few times in her life she’d been touched, and now three times in only a few days, Grady had laid hands on her. Once in anger, once in arousal. And now an almost innocent touch. This time she jerked as if she’d been scalded, and it shocked her into immobility. His hand was hot on her skin, in sharp contrast to the cold morning air. Yet it wasn’t the heat that shocked her, it was her body’s reaction.

      As soon as they made contact, a sharp twang resounded through her body like the string of a violin being plucked. An echo of awareness that hadn’t been there before they’d been intimate, or nearly so. Eliza wasn’t expecting it, and she knew she looked as flummoxed as she felt.

      He took his hand away slowly as if he were afraid she would protest. “What the hell just happened?”

      “I-I don’t know.” She managed a small, strained smile. “Shall we be on our way?”

      He stared into her eyes, peering into her soul, perhaps to find the desperate longing for more of his touch she was trying so hard to hide. She knew in moments she would blurt out exactly how she felt about his hands on her skin if he continued to gaze at her so intently.

      “Should I bother asking you if you’ll leave the confounded books behind?” He moved his gaze to her traveling bags.

      Eliza’s fascination with Grady’s touch flew away in a millisecond. Her protective instinct reared its head. “Never.”

      “That’s what I thought. I ain’t picking them up for you, so I hope you can do it yourself; otherwise the rats will get them.”

      He turned his back and began securing his saddlebags to his own saddle. Eliza was full of righteous anger, and it helped her haul up the bag of books for what seemed like the hundredth time in mere days. She put the smaller bag on as well, then