He’d never wanted a woman this much, not even as a teenage boy.
She started to gasp a little, mewling cries that sent shivers down his spine. She dug her fingers in harder and then she came, still watching him, her body convulsing as she sank to her knees in the water. Wade pulled his c**k hard, allowing his own climax to wash over him. He saw her brows rise as the white fluid of his seed flew out of she sank to her knees in the water. Wade pulled his c**k hard, allowing his own climax to wash over him. He saw her brows rise as the white fluid of his seed flew out of his cock, leaping for her. His hips bucked, and he gave a low groan. Then it was over, and he tucked his penis back into his pants slowly and deliberately.
He’d meant to confront her, to pressure her again about marriage. He hadn’t expected this, the vulnerability he felt after exposing himself to her. He stood up abruptly, fastened his pants and tossed the length of toweling toward her. Then he grabbed a rag and cleaned up the mess he’d made, stalking out of the room without a word.
Catherine sat back in the cooling tub, dazed and stunned. Her limbs felt limp and flaccid after her powerful arousal, and she couldn’t imagine how she’d ever face him again. The moment had been out of time, surreal and strange, and she hadn’t felt any of the shame or embarrassment she knew she should. Up until now it had been a sort of game for her—she wanted Wade, but she didn’t really want him. Not forever. But what they’d just experienced together, she’d never dreamed it could be like that. What would real sex be like with him? How would it feel to have those intense eyes following her every day?
What would it feel like to have a little boy look up at her with Wade’s green gaze?
Catherine surged up and out of the tub, splashing water on the kitchen floor. She couldn’t let herself think anymore. She needed to remember her goals.
To be independent. To be a teacher.
To never rely on a man again.
Chapter Five
Wade left unexpectedly to check on the stock early the next morning, and Catherine didn’t see again him for three days. To her surprise, she enjoyed having Maria around to help. The girl worked hard, she liked to laugh and her English was good enough that they could really talk.
Unfortunately, the only person Maria wanted to talk about was Wade. “Señor Masters is very handsome,” she said as they hung wet laundry up behind the house. “And he isn’t courting anyone, is he?”
“Not that I know of,” Catherine replied, trying to keep her tone light. She didn’t have a right to be jealous, she reminded herself. After all, she didn’t want to marry him.
“I think he likes me, I saw him looking at me,” Maria said, blushing faintly. “José says he’s a good man, and that he’s going to be very important someday. José says that Señor Masters is the best boss he’s ever had, and that he wants to ride for this brand forever. Do you think Señor Masters is happy with the work I’m doing? Do you think he’ll want to dance with me on Saturday night at the party?”
Catherine shook her head, wishing the girl would be quiet. Maria misunderstood her gesture, and tears started to well up in her eyes.
“Is it because I’m Mexican?” she asked, her voice soft and hurt. “I’m a good girl, señora, and my family has lived here for six generations. Do you really think he only likes American girls?”
“Of course not,” Catherine said, feeling even worse. “I wasn’t shaking my head at you, I was thinking about something else.”
“So you think he likes me?” Maria asked, her face lighting up. “I have a special dress I want to wear to the dance. It’s very pretty—he’ll want to dance with me, I’m sure of it!”
She started humming a happy tune, gliding through the hanging sheets with the exuberance of the very young. Catherine stood, bemused, wondering how the conversation had gone so many places so quickly.
Maria was a fine girl, she thought. And she knew for a fact that Wade wouldn’t hold her nationality against her. Lots of cattlemen married Mexican women, and she supposed the young woman would be good for him. She was sweet, pretty, hardworking and she knew everything there was to know about living on the range. Just the thought of them together made Catherine feel sick to her stomach.
She didn’t want Wade with another woman—she wanted him for herself.
The thought had been creeping up on her at odd moments lately. The man was insidious, and while she hadn’t seen him since the night in the kitchen, he filled her imagination. She wanted him to come home, she wanted to see him and smell him and touch him. And she definitely wanted to sleep with him. Her body ached with need every day. And the most tempting, horrible part of it was that she knew she could have him, have all of him, if she could just bring herself to trust him.
But what kind of fool stuck her head into the same noose twice?
* * * * *
Wade rode up to the barn, dead tired from ranging the farthest bounds of the ranch, but not even exhaustion dented his desire to see Cat again. He’d wanted to get some distance between them, to try to convince himself that he didn’t need her. She was slipping away from him, and if she took the teaching job it would be so much harder to court her. He wouldn’t give up, he wasn’t a quitter. But every step she took toward town would make it that much more difficult to win her over.
“ Señor Masters!” Maria waved vigorously at him from the porch as he walked toward the house. “We’re so happy that you’re back. Tomorrow night is the dance in town
—José said everyone will be going. Will you come with us?”
Her bright smile cheered him. Then he realized she waited for his answer with more than casual interest. Well, shit, that was the last thing he needed, some little girl with a crush on him. He should have gotten an old lady to help Cat, he thought dourly. But José had been lonely for his family, and she was a good girl. She’d probably end up marrying one of the ranch hands, and before long he’d have to build them a house. That would be perfect—he liked the idea of stable, family men riding for the brand.
“I’ll be at the dance,” he said, stepping up onto the porch. “But right now I could really use something to eat. Is Mrs. Masters in the kitchen?”
“Sí,” Maria said. “But I can put something together for you, señor.”
“Thank you, but I need to talk to Mrs. Masters,” he replied, trying not to wince at her eager expression. “Privately.”