Hitched!. B.J. Daniels

Hitched! - B.J.  Daniels


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expensive light fixtures. She tried to estimate what some of the pieces might be worth. Maybe there was money here—if the ranch wasn’t mortgaged to the hilt. She feared that whatever had brought Jack here, he was going to be disappointed.

      Jack looked around as they climbed the stairs, his face softening as if he was remembering being a boy in this place. There must be good memories along with bittersweet ones during his four years here.

      Josey felt a sudden chill along with a premonition. She tried to shake it off. Why would there be any reason to be afraid for Jack?

      They were led down a long, dark hallway to an end room. “Since you’re newlyweds,” Enid said. “This way you won’t disturb the rest of the household.”

      Jack arched a brow at the old woman behind her back.

      “I’m sure you’ll ring me on the intercom if you need anything.” Enid let out an irritated snort. “Dinner is served at seven on the dot. I wouldn’t be late if I were you.” With that she left them standing outside the room and disappeared into the dim light of the hallway, her footfalls silent as snowfall.

      “That woman is scary,” Josey whispered, making Jack chuckle.

      “Let’s do this right,” he said, surprising her as he swung her up into his arms. “In case anyone is watching,” he added in a whisper.

      She let out a squeal as he carried her over the threshold, making him laugh. His laughter was contagious and she found herself caught up in the moment as he kicked the door shut and carried her into the bedroom.

      The room was huge, with a sitting area furnished with two chintz-covered chairs in front of a stone fireplace. Josey caught a glimpse of a large bathroom done in black-and-white tile, sheer white drapes at the open French doors to a small balcony and, at the heart of the room, a large canopied bed.

      Jack slowed at the bed, and as he gently lowered her to the cool, white brocade spread his gaze met hers. The sheer white curtains billowed in, bringing with them the sweet scent of clover and pine.

      She felt as if she’d been saved by a white knight and brought to the palace for safekeeping. It would have been so easy to lose herself in the deep sea-blue of his eyes as he leaned over her. Jack was incredibly handsome and charming. Everything seemed intensified after what she’d been through. The hard feel of his chest against her breasts, the slight brush of his designer stubble against her cheek, the oh-so-lusty male scent of him as he lowered her to the soft bed.

      She wanted desperately to blot out everything but this. It would have been so easy, with her gaze on his sensual, full mouth, to bury her fingers in his a-little-too-long blond hair and drag him down until his lips, now just a breath away from hers, were—

      “You’re not thinking about kissing me, are you?” he asked, sounding as breathless as she felt. “Because that wasn’t part of the bargain. Unless you want to renegotiate?”

      Josey realized that he’d been about to lose himself as well, and, for whatever reason, he’d stopped himself. And her. She shouldn’t be feeling safe. She should be thinking of the consequences of losing herself even for a little while in the arms of this man. Jack was making it clear what was going to happen if she opened that door.

      She squeezed her hands between their bodies, pressing her palms to his muscular chest, but she didn’t have to push. Jack eased slowly back to a safer distance, though it seemed to take all of his effort.

      “Didn’t Enid say something about dinner at seven?”

      she asked, her voice sounding strange even to her ears. “I have just enough time to take a bath first.”

      Jack glanced toward the bathroom. He must have been wondering why she needed another bath since she’d had a shower in town.

      “I can’t resist that tub.” A huge clawfoot tub sat in the middle of the black-and-white tiled floor.

      His blue eyes darkened again with desire, and she saw both challenge and warning as he glanced from the tub to her. They were alone at this end of an empty wing pretending to be husband and wife. Unless she wanted the marriage consummated, she’d better be careful what signals she sent out.

      Josey slid from the bed, grabbed her backpack and stepped into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind her. The room was large. Along with the tub there was an old-fashioned sink and dressing table, and enough room to dance in front of a full-length old-fashioned mirror.

      Josey set down her backpack and stepped to the tub to turn on the faucet. Enid had left her a bottle of bubble bath, bath soap and a stack of towels. As the tub filled, bubbles moved in the warm breeze that blew in from an open window in the corner and billowed the sheer white curtains.

      She stripped off her clothing and, with a start, caught her reflection in the full-length mirror behind her. She looked so different. Slowly, her heart in her throat, she studied her face, then the bruises she’d been able to hide under her clothing. The raw rope burn on her neck made her wince at just the sight of it. What had she been thinking earlier with Jack? Had she lost herself in him, he would have seen—

      She shuddered at the thought. She couldn’t let that happen. It wouldn’t be easy to keep her injuries covered so no one saw them until she had a chance to heal. But that would be easier than trying to explain them if she got caught.

      Josey turned away from her unfamiliar image, anxious to climb into the tub of warm, scented water. She knew she couldn’t wash away her shame any more than she could wash away the memory of what had happened.

      As she stepped into the tub and slowly lowered herself into the bubbles and wonderfully warm, soothing water, she listened for Jack. Had he left the room? Or was he just on the other side of the door?

      Against her will, her nipples hardened at the thought. She reminded herself that Jack was just a means to an end. A safe place to hide out until she could decide what to do. As Jack had said, the Winchester Ranch was in the middle of nowhere. Her past couldn’t find her here.

      Once she knew her mother was safe …

      She lay back in the tub, the breeze from the window nearby stirring the bubbles, but the chill Josey felt had nothing to do with the warm spring air coming through the window.

      Was she really safe here? There was something about this place, something about Jack’s grandmother, definitely something about the Hoaglands, that gave her the creeps.

      Josey shivered and sank deeper in the tub, realizing the most dangerous person in this house could be the man she’d be sleeping in the same room with tonight.

      VIRGINIA WINCHESTER STOOD at the window where she’d watched the Cadillac convertible drive up earlier. She hadn’t been sure which nephew it was and hadn’t cared. All she knew, and this she’d had to get from Enid since her mother wasn’t apt to tell her, was that three nephews had confirmed that they would be arriving over the next few weeks.

      She wouldn’t have recognized any of them. The last time she’d seen them they’d been sniveling little boys. She’d had no more interest then than she did now.

      By now there could be more. She shuddered at the thought.

      She did, however, wonder why her mother hadn’t just invited everyone back at the same time. Pepper had her reasons, Virginia was sure of that.

      She herself was the fly in the ointment, so to speak. The letter had specified the time her mother wanted to see her. She assumed everyone else had also been given a specific time to arrive.

      Virginia wasn’t about to wait. She wasn’t having it where her mother invited her favorites first. Virginia planned to be here to make sure she wasn’t left out. So she’d come right away—to her mother’s obvious irritation.

      Growing up on the ranch, she’d felt as if their mother had pitted them all against each other. The only time she’d felt any kind of bond with her siblings had been their mutual jealousy, distrust and dislike of their younger brother Trace—their mother’s unequivocal


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