Jake put the cigarette to his lips and inhaled until the tip glowed red-hot. "Well?" he said on a thick exhalation of smoke. "What are you waiting for? I may be a bastard, but I've never left a lady in need." He grinned; the gesture didn't reach the gaze that continued to burn into her. "If you get my drift."
Amanda's need for violence—which, she realized suddenly, had been coming quite frequently of late—had never been stronger. Her palm itched to smack Jake hard enough to make his shiny white teeth rattle. And why not? The cad deserved no better after the nasty trick he'd just played on her.
Giving in to impulse, Amanda fed the fire a few more sticks, then pushed to her feet. Her ankle hurt. The throbbing pain that shot up her leg only fed her fury. She hobbled over the space that separated them. Balancing the majority of her weight on her good leg, she planted her fists on her hips. Her spine remained rigid as she glared down at him.
If she'd hoped to intimidate him, she missed her mark. Jake didn't look the least concerned as he flicked the barely-smoked cigarette away. It made a fiery arch from his fingers to where it landed to smolder itself out in the night-cooled glass.
It took a second for Jake to realize she wasn't going to squat down and carry out her threat. That was a shame. He had been prepared to swipe her off balance and cushion her fall with his body. It was the "cushioning" part he'd been looking forward to—maybe more than he should have.
His gaze began at her shoes. While he skimmed the full skirt, shifting in dark calico folds around her legs, he paid more attention to the flare of hips outlined beneath. Her waist was a slender temptation to a man's hands. Above were two firm swells that were even more tempting.
The set of her shoulders was hard and uncompromising, yet even they looked soft and feminine to his appreciative eye. Her throat was long and creamy and white; the center slid up and down in a convulsive swallow. Her jaw worked as she clenched and unclenched her teeth. Her lips looked pinched. Even her high, regal cheekbones looked strained and angry. The skin stretched over them was a hot, furious shade of pink. And then there were her eyes...
The moonlight made her eyes look like pools of dark, luminescent green, the color of a storm-tossed sea. It was her eyes that Jake focused on now, because, whether she knew it or not, it was her eyes that gave her away every time.
She was furious with him, he knew. Hell, hadn't he goaded her to it? But anger was only one of the emotions he'd stirred inside of her. Behind her outrage he saw something else. Something stronger. Something she was trying oh, so hard to hide and deny, but couldn't. She was far too innocent to know how; he was far too experienced to be fooled.
The prissy white lady had no idea of how much she desired the man she thought to be a wildly reared savage. But Jake knew. And the knowledge made his heart pound and his blood flow hot.
"Remember down by the river?" he said. His voice sounded raspy and thick. His hand came up, handcuffing her wrist. Her pulse drummed against the heel of his palm. "When I said there was something we needed to settle?"
"Y-yes," Amanda answered, and wondered when the sting of fury had left her voice. When he'd touched her—that was when she'd weakened. While the urge to slap him wasn't entirely gone, it had faded considerably.
"It's time."
She stiffened warily. "Time?"
"Yup." His expression was as serious as his tone. "Past time. We're going to settle this here and now, Miss Lennox."
"Settle what?" But Amanda had a sinking feeling she already knew. Though she tried to prepare herself, it did no good. Hearing the way his silky drawl rasped over the words, watching the way his lips moved as his spoke them... well, there was no preparing for her reaction to that!
"I've been wondering all day what it would be like to kiss you. It's about time I found out, wouldn't you say?"
The wrist within his grasp trembled. They both felt it.
"I-I really don't think that's a good idea, Mr. Chandler." She tried to pull from his grasp. His fingers tightened. His grip, while not painful, was firm. Determined.
"On the contrary, Miss Lennox. I think that's the best damn idea I've had all day. Come here. Let's get this over with so we can both put it out of our minds for good."
He tugged, but Amanda was ready for him. Though her knees had turned to jelly, threatening to buckle at any moment, she managed to stand her ground. Again, she tried to slip her hand free. Again, he refused to let her go.
Her temper snapped. She lashed out in the only way she knew how—with her razorsharp tongue.
"Why, you egotistical bastard! For your information, sir, I have more important things on my mind than... Surely you don't think I've spent my day thinking about how it would feel to... to..." She groaned. If she couldn't say the words, how on earth could she deny them?
"Kiss me? Yeah, princess, that's exactly what I think. And you know what else? I think you might as well quit fighting. We both know I'm going to haul you down here sooner or later. And the longer it takes..."
Amanda, lulled by the husky pitch of his voice, failed to notice when it trailed off. Her gaze had dipped to his mouth. Watching him form words was an experience unto itself. The way his lips moved was fascinating. Mesmerized by the sight, she wasn't prepared for another, more insistent tug. Without warning, she felt the world being knocked out from under her.
Jake allowed himself a split-second grin before springing to motion. He sat up, his arm coiling tightly around her waist, drawing her toward him when she would have stumbled backward. Momentum was on his side. He had no difficulty turning her in the direction he wanted her to fall.
Amanda landed hard. Her bottom made a solid collision with his lap. Both of them groaned.
His hand had settled on her thigh. Very high up. His thumb and index finger were spread wide; the webbing between coated the groove separating shapely leg from equally shapely hip.
She wasn't sure how that had happened. Nor did she know how her own hands had ended up splaying his belly. His skin felt hot and smooth and hard to the touch. It felt... alarmingly nice.
Jake cocked his head. The tip of the small brown feather, the fringe of the rebellious braid, skimmed Amanda's knuckles. One of them shivered. She wasn't sure who.