A Little Time In Texas. Joan Johnston
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waited for it to come again. His lips teased hers, coaxing. His tongue brushed her mouth again, and she gasped at the pleasure. His tongue slipped inside and retreated just as quickly.
Angel felt her heart pounding; it was hard to catch her breath. She grabbed handfuls of Dallas’s shirt.
“Dallas, I—”
His mouth captured hers again. She kept her lips sealed, afraid of what might happen if she relented to his probing tongue. This was all forbidden territory. Virgin territory.
Suddenly Angel realized she was kissing a perfect stranger. She pushed against his chest with the heels of her hands, and her mouth was abruptly released.
Angel had been so wrapped up in her own reactions to the kiss she hadn’t noticed what was happening to Dallas. Now that they were no longer kissing, she realized his breathing was as tortured as hers, and his heart was pounding under her fist.
“Did you find out everything you wanted to know?” Dallas asked in a voice harsh with restrained need.
“Yes,” Angel gasped.
He set her away from him. “Then I think it’s time we got started again.”
He headed away from her, and she had no choice but to follow, unless she wanted to be left alone in the dark. To her relief the cave ceiling almost immediately rose again, so they could walk upright. When it did, he reached back for her hand.
“I don’t want to lose you now,” he said.
“I want to thank you for rescuing me.”
“We’re not out of here yet.”
“What could possibly happen now?” Angel asked. “I mean—”
Angel was in his arms so fast, it was as though an unseen force had shoved her there. One of his hands fisted in her hair, the other held her hips hard against his. They were aligned from breast to belly, and there was no mistaking his arousal.
“Does that answer your question?” he demanded.
“Of all the dim-witted—”
“Don’t start,” he warned. “I was doing just fine until you started all that touching. I had put every picture I had of you out of my mind and—”
“What pictures?”
“You backed up against a sheer rock wall, that white gold hair of yours flying in the wind. The way your breasts looked straining against that damned excuse for a shirt you’re wearing. The sight of those blue eyes of yours flashing defiance against impossible odds. I haven’t stopped wanting you since the first moment I laid eyes on you, lady. If you’re smart, you won’t provoke me into taking what you’ve got to offer.”
“I should’ve known you were just like all the others,” she hissed. “Texas Ranger, my eye. Where’s your badge, Dallas? I had hold of your shirt pocket, and it wasn’t there.”
“I took it off.”
“What for?”
“I’m on a leave of absence.”
“Why?”
He hesitated, then said in a stark, quiet voice, “A friend of mine, another Texas Ranger, was killed three days ago saving my worthless hide.”
“I’m sorry,” Angel murmured.
His grasp tightened on her. “Sorry doesn’t help, Angel. If I’d been the one who was killed, there was nobody to give a damn. Cale left a wife and two kids behind. And I lost a friend who was like a brother to me.
“I walked into this cave trying to figure out some reason why he’s dead and I’m still alive. Alive enough to want a woman. Alive enough to want you!”
“Dallas, I—”
It was too late for words. His lips found hers in the dark, and this time he wasn’t gentle. The same mouth that had been so soft was hard with unrestrained need. Ravaging. Plundering. Taking instead of giving.
Behind the need Angel felt his anguish, and she responded to it. Her arms circled him in comfort. Her body softened against his, offering solace. As suddenly as it had begun, the desperation receded, leaving only the need.
He could easily have taken what he wanted from her. She couldn’t have resisted him; he was much bigger, much stronger than she. But as reason returned, his mouth left hers. His arms surrounded her, and he lifted her off the ground as he hid his face in the fall of silky hair at her shoulder.
Angel felt the strain in his body as he fought his grief. He shuddered once, and she felt him swallow hard. She reached up a hand and smoothed his hair back from his brow.
“It’s all right,” she crooned. “It wasn’t your fault. I know you must have done everything you could. Why, you rescued me today without a whisker of thought for your own safety.”
He didn’t answer her, but he didn’t push her away, either. She murmured comforting words, words she knew would not bring back his friend, but which might make him believe his was not such a worthless hide, after all.
For the first time in her life Angel was grateful for the dark. It had allowed this stranger to seek her out; it had allowed her to comfort him. Yet neither had to face the other when he at last lowered her to the ground and stepped away from her.
“Thanks,” he said.
“You’re welcome.”
Dallas took her hand again, and they began to walk. He kept close to the wall to maintain his bearings, until at last the darkness gave way to gray shadows.
“I can see light,” Angel said.
Dallas began to move faster, but Angel wasn’t about to be left behind now. They were almost running when he suddenly stopped.
There it was. The entrance to the cave. The sun was shining. The grass was bright green except where spring wildflowers left splashes of orange and yellow.
Angel’s heart skipped a beat. That was wrong. There shouldn’t be any spring flowers. It was fall. An unusually early frost had already turned the grass brown. But perhaps these were fall flowers; and maybe the frost hadn’t caught this particular glen.
She stayed beside Dallas as they left the cave. Bees buzzed. Birds sang. The mesquite blossomed.
Angel held tightly to Dallas’s hand. “It’s very pretty here.”
“It’s always like this in the spring.”
Angel frowned and looked up at Dallas…and caught her breath when she saw his face in the light. How could he have called those eyes brown? They were hazel, dancing with flecks of green. His hair might have been brown once upon a time, but the sun had streaked it with chestnut and gold. His face wasn’t handsome, nor was it plain. But the wide-set eyes, the cheekbones, the strong jaw were undeniably appealing. And the mouth…
“Don’t look at me like that,” Dallas said. “Not unless you’re willing this time to finish what you start.”
Angel’s gaze left his mouth and met his eyes with their ridiculous curly lashes. “I know this has been a trying few hours. But did you just say that it’s spring?”
“It is,” he said.
“It’s not,” Angel contradicted.
His brow furrowed. He reached out and gently brushed aside the hair that covered her bruised forehead. “Are you all right?”
She brushed his hand away. “When you carried me into the cave it was October.”
“It’s April.”
“October,” she argued.
He shook his head. “No, Angel. I’m afraid not.”
“I don’t understand.”
He