Love Untrusted Read online

  The stricken expression on his face penetrated her anger. She snapped her teeth together, ashamed that she had taken her argument so far. In essence, she was saying his brother had worked himself into the grave, and it was Miguel’s fault. What a horrible thing to say to him when it was too late to make it right.

  “I’m sor—” she began.

  He grabbed her around the hips and shoved her dress up a good foot and a half, exposing her thighs. “We’ve established I’m a beast. Do you still want me?”

  Her desire shot across the galaxy, weakening her knees. She licked her lips again as she struggled to find her voice. “Y-yes.”

  He hiked her dress higher. The warm breeze stirred things up worse. “Prove it.”

  She tangled her fingers into his hair and drew his head toward hers. Their bodies melded together as tension and anger gave way to wave after wave of passion and desire.

  Chapter 8

  “I know what I’m doing,” Antonio snapped at his older brother for the millionth time.

  “Sure you do,” Miguel told him. “If you want to break your stupid neck.”

  Jasmeka winced. He had no tact at all, not a gentle bone in his body. She thought of the night before and how much fun they had together. No. Fun wasn’t the word. The lovemaking was phenomenal, but fun made it sound like it was a laughing and joking kind of night. Miguel had done things to her that made her toes curl and the night come alive with her shouts of pleasure. Every time she thought of it, she couldn’t wait to get together again.

  As he barked orders to Antonio without mercy, she thought about his strength and the way he held her up. She recalled the way he had spoken low and seductive in Spanish, and chills raced down her spine.

  “Jeez, pull it together, Jas.”

  She looked around to see if anyone had heard her, but all eyes were on Miguel and Antonio. Hector hadn’t known Miguel would be around to help his brothers, so he had shown up for the horse training. A few other hands had drifted over to the corral as well, and now there was a small crowd. The attention put red in Antonio’s cheeks and fire in his eyes. He was determined to prove himself to Miguel, which worried her.

  “Steady,” Miguel called out.

  Antonio ignored Miguel and hoisted himself into the saddle. From the second his rear came down on the horse, the animal bucked hard. Antonio struggled to hold on, but his body flopped about, head bobbing and arm flying. Jasmeka’s stomach roiled thinking the scrawny boy would be thrown at any second.

  Dusty Sun bucked toward the fence, and Jasmeka worried about Antonio’s leg being crushed. Before horse and rider reached it, Antonio started to look strange. She wasn’t sure what made her think he was in trouble. Perhaps it was the angle of the way he was sitting in the saddle.

  The Texas sun beamed down on them, and Antonio’s shirt was already drenched with sweat. Shouts from the onlookers weren’t making things better. In fact, their voices drowned out Miguel’s instructions.

  Miguel must have sensed the same thing she did. He hopped the fence in smooth motion and ran over to the horse. With his hands extended, palms down, he kept calling out, “Whoa, boy.” Jasmeka expected Antonio to tell him to get lost, but he didn’t say a word. All of his strength must be going into remaining upright.

  By sheer miracle, it seemed to her, Miguel got hold of the reins. He pulled firmly, and the horse’s head went down. Jasmeka didn’t know much about horses except for what she had heard working at the ranch. If the trainer controlled the horse’s head, he could control the beast’s entire body. Somehow forcing Dusty Sun’s head down made him feel like he couldn’t buck, which was odd to her. He settled enough for Antonio to fall out of the saddle into Angel’s arms.

  “Get off me,” Antonio muttered when he could get some strength into his legs and stand on his own. “I’m fine. No big deal.”

  “No big deal?” Miguel snapped. “You could have broken your foolish neck! You didn’t listen to anything I told you to do.”

  “What do you know?” Antonio shouted back, or tried to. He was still breathing hard, his chest heaving. “You’re just some guy from the city who thinks he knows everything. You come down here acting all big and bad. I bet you couldn’t even get up on Dusty Sun, and you’d fall off like a second after if you did.”

  Jasmeka saw it in Miguel’s eyes before he even made a move. Antonio’s words were a challenge, and he was going to take him up on it. She was standing close to Antonio, hoping to help him calm down, but he pushed her hands away. Now she ran over to Miguel at the horse’s head to stop him.

  “You don’t have to prove anything, Miguel. Just let it go, okay? Tony’s just embarrassed.”

  “Step back, Jas,” Miguel commanded, and she groaned.

  “Don’t do this. It’s not worth it. One of the other men can break the horse, and I’ll bet one of them can take it slowly and train the boys to do it later.”

  His glare told her she was talking to the wind, and she stumbled back a few steps.

  “Estará bien?” Hector whispered when she moved next to him outside the corral.

  She clasped her hands together. “I hope he’ll be okay. I have no idea of his skill level. I mean he’s worked as a Marshall all this time not as a horse trainer. He’s in good shape but…”

  She felt Hector’s gaze on her and hoped she didn’t let any of her attraction to Miguel seep into her comments. Who knew if anyone was around when the two of them were getting hot and heavy by the lake.

  Miguel waited until his brothers moved outside the corral, and then he swung with ease if a tad bit of stiffness into the saddle. His hands and his stance seemed surer than his brother’s had been, but the horse tossed him hard.

  Miguel leaned into the buck, seeming to anticipate the animal’s movements. The crowd and Jasmeka gasped when he slipped sideways once, almost falling off the horse, but he regained his balance. The horse pawed the ground and reared up onto his hind legs. Miguel clung to his back, squeezing with his thighs and gripping the reins.

  An eternity crawled by. Miguel almost hit the ground, gained the upper hand, lost it, and then horse and rider were one. Dusty Sun came down in a fit of anger and kicked up a cloud of earth. For a moment Jasmeka couldn’t see. She scrubbed her burning eyes and blinked a few times. The dust settled, and all was still.

  Miguel patted Dusty’s broad neck, which glistened with sweat. He spoke low to the beast and squeezed gently with his thighs against the horse’s sides. Dusty Sun was reluctant at first, but he began to move. Miguel guided him at a leisurely pace around the corral. Spontaneous applause erupted from the crowd, and Antonio spun on his heel and stomped off.

  “Tony, wait,” Angel called after him and followed.

  Jasmeka considered going after Antonio as well, but she figured his pride was hurt. He’d work through it and be fine. Miguel guided the horse toward her and Hector and climbed down. She didn’t miss the slight wobble in his legs before he caught himself.

  “Hector, can you take care of him?” Miguel asked.

  “Si, jefe.” Hector guided the horse away to wipe him down and give him something to drink. Miguel joined Jasmeka, and the crowd drifted back to their various tasks around the ranch.

  Jasmeka eyed Miguel with a hand on her hip. “You had to show off, didn’t you?”

  To her surprise he winced. “Every muscle in my body hurts.”

  She grinned. “For real?”

  “Yes, and my legs are shaky. You’d think I never exercised a day in my life. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but it hurts!”

  She burst out laughing.

  He grumbled. “Don’t laugh.”

  “I can’t help it. This was all your fault for letting your little brother goad you. And guess what? You get to enjoy the aftereffects all the more tomorrow after the pain settles in.”

  Horror crossed his features, and she took pity on him.

  “Come on. I have some salve that works like a miracle, and if I massage it into your muscles, you’ll feel
only half the pain, if that. With some stretches and rest, you’ll be just fine.” She paused and eyed him. “Can you walk to the house, or do you want me to get someone to carry you?”

  “I’d rather die here than be carried. I’ll make it.”

  She chuckled. “Dramatic much?”

  They worked their way back to the house, albeit slowly. She thought it was funny that Miguel did everything he could not to look like he was in pain, but she resisted laughing. The more he tried to appear normal, the stiffer he came off. She was almost tempted to use a lame over-the-counter cream on him. That way he learned his lesson. However, she didn’t want to see him in pain.

  At the house, Jasmeka led him into a room that was rarely used but was furnished with a nice cozy couch. After collecting the items she needed, she listened to see if anyone was around. The house lay in total silence, so she shut the door into the room and kneeled beside Miguel.

  “Take off your shirt.”

  His eyes glittered, and a slow grin spread over his face. “As much as I enjoy making love to you, I don’t think I can handle you right now.”

  “I’m shocked you can admit you can’t handle me.”

  “I said—”

  “I know, now get your shirt off and keep your mind out of the gutter. Let’s go, Mr. Showoff.”

  He grunted through the entire process of doing as she asked. When he was ready, she smoothed the salve between her hands and rubbed them together. Taking hold of one shoulder, she massaged. His tight muscles hardly gave an inch as she kneaded.

  “Ugh, you’re trying to kill me,” he complained.

  She squeezed harder. “Not yet. If you keep whining, I’ll kill you.”

  “I don’t whine.” He bristled with indignation, amusing her.

  She leaned over him while still working his muscles. “Sounds like it to me.”

  Their gazes met, and for an instant she forgot to massage him. He didn’t appear to notice as he stared at her.

  “Last night…” he began in a low tone.

  “Yeah.”

  “When I’m stronger…”

  “Mm, definitely yes.”

  They kissed with Jasmeka’s head above his because she was on her knees. He extended that thick column of a neck, and she couldn’t help nuzzling it.

  “Kiss me again,” he ordered, and she gave in to him.

  “Aw, I was hoping you’d stay all whiny a little longer. Now you’re back to thinking you can order me around.”

  He eyeballed her, and she laughed.

  “You like teasing me.”

  She shrugged. “It can be entertaining.

  “Entertain me with that delicious mouth. Maybe it will take the soreness out of my muscles.”

  “Do your lips hurt?”

  “Jas.”

  She giggled and wondered at herself. Jeez, she sounded like a teenager with a crush on a boy. With that thought, she tried to sober up, but it didn’t work. “I like that you started calling me by my nickname.”

  “Everyone else does.”

  “Do you have one?” She tilted her head to the side to consider what he looked like. “Maybe a Mickie or a Gel Gel.”

  “Call me Mickie or Gel Gel, and you’ll regret it.”

  She threw her head back and laughed a good long time. Much of the sadness she had been feeling seemed to drain away, and she felt light. Miguel’s anger was so easily manipulated, he provided tons of fun at his own expense.

  “Gel Gel it is.”

  He grabbed her. The jar of salve went flying. Miguel hauled her around from behind him to land on his lap. He pushed her backward until she lay flat on the couch, and he hovered above her.

  “What’s my name?”

  “Ge—”

  His hand slid to the button on her shorts, and she yelped in alarm.

  “We can’t do that in here! Someone will catch us.”

  He pinched the button open anyway but went no farther. “What’s my name?”

  She pursed her lips. Her zipper went down, and she began to pant.

  “Be reasonable. The boys might catch us, and Tony is already mad at you. Goodness knows Aunt Rosa is too old to see this. It might be too much for her heart.”

  Amusement colored his features. “Funny how you’re giving me all these excuses of why I can’t undress you, but you refuse to say my name.”

  She pretended the curtains on the windows were interesting. “You’re the one who claimed to be in lots of pain. Now you’re all over me. I’m trying to think of my patient.”

  “Hah!”

  She said nothing because she couldn’t find words. He had leaned up and straddled her hips. Stretching his arms above his head, he proceeded to work out the kinks in his muscles. Every movement accentuated his perfect form and taut skin. The man was a work of art, and she wondered if his needing her to give him a massage was all a part of a ploy to get her flat on her back.

  He couldn’t have known she had salve or that she would offer to massage him. Then again, perhaps he would have suggested it if she hadn’t. Trying not to drool over his body, she averted her eyes.

  “Really, Miguel, I’ve got a lot of work to do, and I haven’t even begun to cook lunch.”

  Disappointment came into his expression, and he climbed off her. She tried to figure out why he would give up and then realized she’d said his name.

  Darn it!

  “Maybe tonight?” she suggested when he helped her to her feet.

  He drew her into his arms. Her hands flattened of their own accord against his chest, and fresh desire took hold of her. He slid his hands to her butt and drew her up to him. Her lips parted in an unbidden gasp, and he claimed her lips. She gave in to him, loving the taste of his tongue and the firm insistence of his mouth on hers. He was always so aggressive and demanding, it made her head spin.

  After some time, he raised his head and looked into her eyes. “I can take you upstairs and have you before anyone knows.”

  She panted. “I need more time.”

  “Trust me. I will satisfy you.”

  Nervousness fluttered in her belly. “You really don’t hurt?”

  He offered a slow grin, full of mischief. “That’s what I like about you.”

  “What?”

  “Is it a yes?”

  He didn’t want to answer her question, and she wasn’t about to stand there arguing. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 9

  Jasmeka heard some kind of commotion down below as she stepped out of the shower. She wondered what could be going on. Someone shouted, and she could have sworn it was a woman’s voice. Aunt Rosa wouldn’t be yelling at anyone. When she wanted to get her point across, her voice turned to ice and froze everyone within its sound waves, and she didn’t raise it above a certain decibel.

  After dragging on an old robe, the closest at hand, and leaving her hair hanging in wet clumps around her head, she hurried downstairs. All she could think about was that a deer had gotten into the house again like what had happened a few months ago.

  A deer doesn’t sound like a woman, Jas.

  She ignored the internal warning and headed toward the open front door. Now someone was about to hear her because she had pies to bake, and she did not need the house full of flies. An airport taxi sat in front of the steps, and the driver was busy hauling several pieces of luggage from the trunk. Jasmeka blinked. Surely, the family hadn’t invited a guest without telling her, so she could adjust the meals.

  As she mentally reviewed her menus for the day, a pair of long sexy legs appeared from the back of the taxi. On dainty feet with silver-painted toes were high lace-up platform heels. Jasmeka let her gaze drift higher until she took in the full sight of the beautiful Latina woman who had arrived.

  This woman was so tiny, hence the five-inch heels, and she hung onto Miguel’s arm and looked up at him as if she were totally open to whatever he had in mind for the two of them—especially if that something was activity in the bedroom. Jasmeka couldn’t believe the chok
ehold of jealousy she felt before the two of them glanced up to find her standing there. A second after later, she recalled that she was the poster child for hot messes with a ratty robe and a crazy hair.

  “Who is this?” Jasmeka asked, and kicked herself for the tightness in her tone.

  Miguel’s gaze met hers, but she couldn’t read a thing from his expression. He did extricate his arm from the visitor’s. Before he could speak, the woman rushed over to Jasmeka.

  “Carmen Gomez. You’re the maid? Oh, I have so many bags. Please be careful. They’re expensive.” She called over her shoulder to Miguel in Spanish. “Shouldn’t your help be dressed by now?”

  Miguel started to speak, but Jasmeka cut him off and spoke to Ms. Thing in Spanish. “You’re in Texas now. We’re a lot more laid back than where you come from, and I’d suggest you be a little more respectful because this ‘help’ is going to be handling your food.”

  Carmen paled, and her eyes grew round. “You speak—”

  “Yeah, I do, and I almost never let anyone get under my skin.” This woman must be someone important in Miguel’s life, yet he had kept her a secret. He ragged on his father and David about their lifestyles, and here he was doing the same thing.

  “Jas,” Miguel began.

  She walked into the house and slammed the door in their face. Technically, he was her boss, and she probably shouldn’t have done that, but she couldn’t take another second of Carmen. Not dressed the way she was. As she headed up the stairs to her bedroom, she lectured herself.

  “You are not going to put on a dress, hot curl your hair, and wear heels and pantyhose, Jas. I don’t care who’s here. Don’t give in!”

  Her position required her to be on her feet all day, and heels were out. Especially since she had a catering job to prepare for. Just because Carmen made her feel ugly didn’t mean she had to give in to the emotions.

  She removed her robe in her room and yanked on some undies and a bra. A sound behind her brought her around, and she gasped to find Miguel had followed her. His gaze swept her form, settling on her hips and thighs for a second and then moved back to her face.