Intimate Secrets. B.J. DanielsЧитать онлайн книгу.
riding through a creek toward him on the large black horse, the Texas hill country behind her, the horse’s hooves throwing up water droplets that hung in the moonlight. Josie coming out of the darkness of the live oaks and into the moonlight, wearing a yellow dress, her shoulders bare, the wet cotton clinging to her skin. She was buck-naked beneath the dress! Her nipples dark and hard, pressing against the soaked fabric as she dismounted and came to him where he’d fallen from the horse, her blue eyes filled with a longing that matched his own.
Definitely a fantasy dream. It disturbed him that he’d had it at all. He’d never thought of Josie like…that. Nor did he want to.
On top of that, the dream mocked him with the incredible impossibility of it. Josie had been riding the horse that had thrown him and then run off—Diablo, his wild green-broke stallion, and she was way too inexperienced to ride a horse like that, let alone one as unpredictable as Diablo.
He’d awoken the next morning, horseless, with a knot the size of Texas on his head, a terrible headache and no memory of what had happened. But with the ground under him instead of a horse, he had a pretty good idea what had taken place.
It had been a fool thing, trying to ride Diablo. Especially in the mood he’d been in. He’d caught Odell Burton in his barn with Josie, gotten into a fight with him and made Josie mad. Although he’d won the fight, he still had the scar where Odell’s ring had cut him.
In a foul mood by that time, he’d gotten half drunk and decided to ride Diablo. Not his best decision.
The next morning when he limped back to the ranch, he’d seen Josie—again with Odell, but he’d had the good sense to stay clear of them both.
That’s when he started having That Damned Dream. The last thing he’d needed was Josie O’Malley in his dreams. Having her around his ranch was trouble enough without conjuring up the feel, smell and taste of her the moment he closed his eyes.
On top of that, she didn’t get over being mad at him from what he could tell. He and Josie had argued enough over how to break horses.
Six weeks later, the jewels were stolen from the Williams Gallery in town where the collection was to go on display. He’d acted as a consultant on the security plans. In fact, he had a copy of the plans in his locked desk drawer at the ranch.
That’s when the first inkling of suspicion about Josie started. When Brandon Williams, the jewel collector, called to ask if Clay still had his copy. Williams felt the only way the thieves could have pulled off the heist was with the plans.
When Clay had gone to his desk, he’d found the plans—but someone had been in the locked drawer. They’d used a key, because the lock hadn’t been tampered with—and he had the only key.
He’d assured Brandon Williams that his plans were there, keeping his suspicions to himself. Temporarily.
With Odell Burton and Raymond Degas wanted for questioning in the heist, Clay wondered if one of them could have somehow gotten his keys. That seemed impossible. But Odell was always hanging around Josie.
He’d saddled up and ridden over to the O’Malley ranch. Josie was by the barn. Clay wasn’t surprised when Odell came out of the barn, looking angry.
He rode toward them, unable to hear their words, but he could see that they were obviously arguing. Odell had grabbed Josie’s arm, and she seemed to be trying to fight him off.
Odell spotted him as he rode up and took off before Clay’s boot soles hit the dust beside Josie.
“Don’t” was all Josie said when she saw him. She was crying and upset.
Without thinking, he’d pulled her into his arms and kissed her. A crazy impulse. He hadn’t known it at the time, but it would be the last time he’d see her until today. It had been one amazing goodbye kiss.
After it was over, she’d pulled back, confusion in her gaze. Her eyes had filled with tears. “What do you want from me, Jackson?”
When he didn’t answer, she spun on her heel and left him standing with his reins in his hand.
He’d watched her go, fighting the urge to go after her. What did he want from her? He’d told himself he didn’t know. Getting involved with Josie O’Malley was definitely out of the question. So he’d swung up into the saddle and ridden off, kicking himself for kissing her.
The next day he’d discovered that she’d packed up and left Texas, lock, stock and barrel. At the time, he’d blamed himself. For kissing her. For being jealous and possessive when he had no right. For being angry with her for making him want her. Because by then, he’d realized that he did want her. Like he’d never wanted any woman before. He just wasn’t fool enough to confuse that with love and all that went with it.
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