" 'Night." He watched her climb the stairs, eyes riveted to the gentle sway of her hips. He wished he had the right to follow her up to her bedroom, or take her to his, and make love to her until the sun came up.

Frustrated with his sensual thoughts and his anatomy's natural response, he started up the stairs to his bedroom, knowing it was going to be a long tossing-and-turning kind of night.

Chapter Nine

Three hours later, hot, restless, and still aroused, J.T. lay in bed, cursing the woman down the hall for the sensual effect she had on him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been so hungry for the feel of a woman pressed beneath him. Not just any woman, but Caitlan.

The sound of the guest bedroom's door creaking open broke the night's silence. J.T. listened, unmoving but alert. Recognizing Caitlan's tentative booted steps on the wooden floor, he frowned. Seconds later he heard the latch on the front door unlock, and the squeak of the hinges when she opened the door.

He bolted upright in bed. Where in the hell was she going at one-thirty in the morning? Damn!

Caitlan of all people should've known better than to roam around the ranch alone, especially at night, when an "accident" could easily befall her.

Fearful for her safety, J.T. threw the covers off his naked body and jumped out of bed. Hastily, he pulled on his jeans and donned the shirt he'd shucked only hours before. Within minutes he was dressed, boots on, and out the front door, his fear congealing into anger at her foolishness. The emotion ran parallel with the tense, aroused state of his body.

Caitlan wasn't on the porch, or anywhere around the close perimeter of the house, from what he could see. Pure instinct had him heading for the barn, the glow from the full moon guiding the way. The cold night air wrapped around him, yet the welcoming chill did nothing to temper the heated blood running through his veins. Only one woman had the cure for that.

She'd left the barn door open and he slipped in quietly. Her soft voice drifted to him. Was she with someone, he wondered, unable to stop thoughts of another woman's infidelity. He had no ties to Caitlan, but he found himself silently praying she was alone, that she wasn't out here to meet one of his men. Jealousy, an unfamiliar emotion, coiled tightly inside him.

Stopping in the shadows of the last stall, he saw her, standing by King's Ransom. Alone. She was talking to the stallion, sweet, encouraging words and praise. The tension cramping the muscles across his shoulders slackened, and he released a long, slow breath.

Curbing the impulse to make himself known and chastise Caitlan for going against his orders to stay away from King, he watched her cajole the animal into accepting whatever she extended in her hand through the slats. Sugar cubes, J.T. guessed, mesmerized by the gentle way the normally crazed stallion nuzzled the treat from her palm, then allowed her to stroke his nose before sidestepping away. How in the hell did she manage to calm the beast?

She laughed softly, the sound curling around J.T. like a narcotic. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it, King?" Pulling back her hand, she brushed her palm on her skirt. "You know I won't hurt you, don't you, boy?"

The horse gave a soft snort as his reply but didn't venture back to her.

The moonlight filtering into the barn from the loft window gave Caitlan an ethereal appearance, shimmering off her hair like a halo. Taking in the view of her profile, J.T. put to memory every delicate feature of her face. God, she was beautiful. Not in an elegant sense, but in a way that went deeper than the surface. Much, much deeper.

Suddenly she straightened, glancing over her shoulder toward where he stood cloaked in the shadows. "J.T.?"

How did she know it was him? Or had she just guessed? Not wanting to scare her, he stepped into the beam of moonlight so she could see him, feeling a little guilty that she'd caught him spying on her.

"It's late, Caitlan." He tried to summon some authority, but his tone lacked conviction, so he gave up the pretense for something more basic and honest: concern. "You shouldn't be out here alone."

She didn't seem all that surprised to see him. A beguiling smile curved her mouth. "Then come keep me company."

Had he only imagined the sultry invitation in her voice? Probably so, considering everything she said and did took on a provocative aspect. "It's past one-thirty." Hooking his thumbs through his belt loops, he moved toward her slowly, lazily. "You should be in bed."

She lifted a brow, playfully flitting to the back of the barn. "Are you ordering me to bed?"

Damn. That time he hadn't mistaken the huskiness and desire in her voice. Suddenly, subtly, the game changed, and he wanted to play by whatever rules she set down. "Would you go if I am?" he challenged, following her.

She shrugged, giving him an upswept look that held an arousing combination of innocence and temptation. "I suppose not. I'm not tired."

In a lithe move he backed her against a nearby wall and propped a hand on one side of her head, leaving the other side open so she could escape if she wanted to. Surprise flared in her eyes, then simmered to a sensual heat that matched the flame licking along his body.

Caressing his knuckles down her soft cheek, he slipped his hand inside the collar of her shirt, resting his palm on the warm curve where her neck and shoulder joined. Drawing his thumb along her jaw, he said very deliberately, "I've got the perfect cure for insomnia."

Her luminous gaze darkened and she swallowed. He followed the movement down her throat with his thumb, stopping at the quickening pulse at the base of her neck. Beneath the touch of his fingers on her shoulder, a delicate shiver stole through her.

"You're cold." He shifted closer to share his body heat. His thighs rubbed provocatively against hers. "You should've put on your jacket."

Another tremor ran the length of her. "I'll be fine." Her voice was a breathy whisper of sound.

Pushing her chin up with his thumb, he lowered his head to meet her lips. "I can make you warm," he promised huskily. Brushing his mouth over hers, softly, tenderly, something unraveled deep inside him, a yearning and a hunger he could no longer deny.

He nibbled on her full bottom lip and ran his tongue over her smooth teeth, needing to taste her deep inside. "I want you, Caitlan," he growled.

She gave a slight shake of her head. "We can't do this," she said, even as her lips parted to allow him access to the moist, sweet recesses of her mouth.

Hearing the wistful catch to her voice that contradicted her objection, he pulled back just enough to capture her gaze. Feminine awareness flickered in her eyes, another contradiction. "Why not, Caitlan? We've both been fighting this from the first day we met."

Confusion and uncertainty creased her brow. Reaching up, she touched her fingers to his stubbled jaw. "When you touch me I feel things I know I shouldn't."

He chuckled softly. "Are you that innocent?" Leaning close, he nuzzled the sensitive flesh just below her ear with his lips and damp tongue, giving her plenty to feel and experience. "It's called lust, Caitlan," he whispered in her ear just before his tongue traced the delicate orifice.

She moaned and shuddered at the sensual onslaught, then shook her head. Grabbing his face between her palms, she made him look at her. "No, it's more than that. It's an… emotional link." She caught her lower lip between her teeth, her eyes smoldering with passion and apprehension. "I can't fight it any longer, J.T. You feel too perfect for me, yet I know I shouldn't give in… "

An emotional link. J.T.'s first instinct was to scoff at the idea, but damn if he didn't feel that link, too. Refusing to analyze those disturbing emotions, he focused on what he knew he could handle for the moment: their desire for one another, and quenching the need burning him up like flame.

"Is that all you feel?" he asked, moving his hips against hers in a slow, evocative motion.

Her head fell back, her eyes closed, her answer a soft, enticing moan. Her hands slipped from his face to clutch his shoulders in wild abandon.

"Look at me, Caitlan," he ordered in a low, rough voice. "Tell me what your body feels."

Opening her eyes, she ran her tongue across her bottom lip, her breathing deep with the beginnings of sensual excitement. "I feel… strange. Tingly and warm all over."

He smiled, loving how utterly honest she was, how innocentdespite her allure. "That's a good start. Now let me showyou how you make me feel." Wedging a thigh between hers, he pressed his aching arousal to that natural feminine cove. He groaned as the length of him throbbed and strained against the fly of his jeans, and against her. He hated the layers of clothing separating their flesh.

"You make me hot and hard and hungry for you," he whispered darkly, his bold words made more provocative by their clandestine setting and the shocking way he moved against her. "I want you as restless as I am. I want you to feel that frenzied excitement build deep inside until you want to explode. That's exactly where I am, Caitlan, and exactly where I want you to be."

A small sound slipped past her lips, a whimper of need and eagerness tinged with the barest hesitation. "I already feel it."

"There's more." Moving slowly, giving her enough time to protest if she wanted to, he dropped his mouth over her parted lips, kissing her slow and wet and deep and lazy. Over and over again, sweeping his tongue into her mouth, touching and tangling with the sleek length of hers, until a moan of pleasure rolled up from her throat, until she clung to him, responding with a quick, fiery need.