The Fall of Jericho Page 3

  The moment he reached for her, she fell into his arms, trying hard not to flinch.

  “This is gonna hurt,” he whispered, smoothing her hair away from her face. “There’s no other way to get you up there than to hoist you.”

  She nodded and buried her face into his chest. For long minutes, they merely stood there holding each other in silence.

  “You scared the shit out of me,” he confessed.

  “I thought you wouldn’t come.”

  Jericho hooked his finger under her chin and made her look into his face. “Nothing can stop me from claiming what’s rightfully mine.”

  She smiled and gave him a half-hearted smack on his shoulder. His mouth lifted as well, but she couldn’t help but wonder if his words had been somewhat serious. The thought made her stomach tie itself in knots.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  “No,” she whispered, gnawing on her lower lip.

  “Mercy, look at me.”

  She swallowed hard but obeyed. It was difficult, holding eye contact. His large palm stroked her cheek while his thumb wiped away her tears. Once it was wet, he took that same thumb and caressed her bottom lip. Before she could ask him what he was doing, he lowered his head and kissed her.

  He was gentle, moving his mouth against hers, soothing her in his own bold way. His other arm wrapped around her hips, pulling her closer. She couldn’t help but kiss him back, holding on to his head with a vengeance.

  Jericho’s tongue licked the seam of her lips. She gasped but opened her mouth dutifully a moment before he dipped inside, exploring with measured restraint. Mercy had the feeling if she hadn’t been injured, she’d be experiencing the full onslaught of his passion. But he held her as if she was made of glass.

  With each tender kiss, he claimed more of her heart.

  He groaned when he suckled her bottom lip. The sound of it puckered her nipples and prompted her to fully lean against him.

  His hands suddenly hooked underneath her arms and in one swift motion, he’d hefted her onto his horse. Mercy’s screeching cry reverberated throughout the cave.

  In a flash, Jericho jumped up to sit behind her, holding her steady against him. She hit his chest as hard as she could through her own anguish.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered, sounding genuinely repentant. “But I had to get your mind off your pain in order to get you up here.”

  He was lucky she couldn’t catch her breath to give him a heated rejoinder. Instead, she rested her head on his shoulder to keep her world from spinning out of control.

  “I hate you, Jericho James,” she moaned.

  He chuckled. “I know you do, sweetheart.”

  Chapter Eight

  The sun sank low on the horizon when Jericho finally stopped for the night. He knew with Mercy’s broken ribs, he wouldn’t be able to go much faster than a walk. Towing the sheriff’s horse behind them slowed them down as well. Truth be told, he wasn’t in that big a hurry to make it back to town. He liked the idea of having Mercy all to himself, and memories of their heated kiss only had him craving more.

  Once he found the small stream he knew was somewhere close to the caves, Jericho searched the banks for a suitable place to camp. Getting Mercy off his horse proved much less painful than boosting her up. She clung to him, but was able to walk on her own two feet and sit next to a large rock for support.

  “You all right?” he asked, hunching down next to her.

  “My left arm aches. I can barely lift it. And it hurts so much to breathe.”

  He nodded. “Sounds about right. I’ve had a few broken ribs in my time. We need to bind them and make a sling for your arm.”

  She glanced at him. “With what?”

  “Your petticoats.”

  Mercy gave him a long, hard stare. “Excuse me?”

  “Now’s not the time to be modest,” he told her. “We’re in the middle of nowhere, and you’re hurt. It’s the best we’ve got.”

  She focused on the water as it babbled on by. “You’ll have to undress me. I can’t do it by myself.”

  He didn’t expect her to give in so readily. Gazing at her dress, he imagined peeling it off, revealing her creamy skin as he went. How was he going to stay sane? Undressing a woman he could do. Undressing Mercy Ainsworth was asking for trouble.

  Jericho stood and cleared his throat. “You hungry? We could eat first.”

  At the mention of food, his own stomach twisted. He knew she had to be famished. It was unlikely Butcher had given her anything to eat.

  “Sounds like a great idea.”

  Turning to Bandit, Jericho’s shoulders fell. “Aw, damn.”

  “You don’t have your saddlebags.”

  “Or my saddle.”

  With a deep sigh, he threaded his fingers through his hair and laced his fingers behind his head. “What now?”

  “Maybe the sheriff...”

  He snapped his fingers, interrupting her. “The sheriff’s horse!”

  Mercy smiled at his wide eyes, making him look so innocent and boyish. He made his way to the other horse and whistled in triumph.

  “Looks like we’ve got some dried beef and hard tack. It ain’t much, but it’s something.”

  She took the food gratefully with her right hand and chewed, careful not to bump her other arm too much. Any sudden movement sent shooting pains down her side. After they’d finished their meal, she turned to him.

  “You left your money out there somewhere,” she said. “You have plans to go back for it?”

  He gave her a mischievous grin. “I did no such thing. My money’s nice and safe in a bank.”

  Her mouth dropped open in shock. “What? You came to save me with empty saddlebags, are you insane?”

  “Butcher wasn’t about to let us go once he had his hands on the money. I knew I’d be fighting my way out of there and only one of us would be left standing. Why risk the money at all?”

  “Don’t you care for your own safety, Jericho?” Her anger boiled to the surface, clouding her vision. “Why don’t you care?”

  He raised his eyebrows at her sudden change of tone. She couldn’t bear to keep looking at him. Not only had he gambled with his own life but with hers as well. She’d get up and walk way if it didn’t hurt so damn much.

  “Hey,” he said, leaning close. “I do care. About you. About what Butcher had a mind to do to you. About what he did do to you. I’ve already hunted the man once. He wasn’t going to get the better of me. I knew what I was doing, Mercy.”

  She was silent, unsure of what to say to him that wouldn’t give away the fact she’d fallen for him again. His confession of caring about her twisted her insides and did funny things to her heartbeat. She licked her lips and chanced a glance back at him only to be caught by his bright blue eyes.

  He stared at her for so long, she had no doubt he was gazing into her soul, learning all her secrets. Her chin trembled as she gravitated closer.

  “We should get your clothes off before it gets any darker.” His voice washed over her like a sluice of warm water. “To bind your wounds,” he added, rubbing the back of his neck.

  With a nod, Mercy fumbled at her buttons with one hand until Jericho knelt before her and brushed it away. He didn’t say a word as he worked, but his fingers trembled. She tried hard to ignore him, but that was nearly impossible. His golden hair swept forward as he bent his head, and she had the uncanny urge to run her fingers through it.

  “How...much do we... I mean, what needs to come...” She couldn’t finish her thought before her cheeks heated. Thankfully, he seemed to know what she meant.

  “All of it. Except for your drawers. Those can...stay on. If you want.”

  His eyes flickered up to hers, then back down to his task.

  “Good Lord, Mercy, you’re gonna be the death of me. I’ve never done this without kissing a woman first.”

  Her breathing quickened and she decided to tease him a bit. “If that’ll make you feel better, who am I to stop you
?”

  “Don’t tempt me, woman.”

  Something in the way he’d said that made her entire body come alive. The moment his warm hand slipped inside her dress to peel it from her arm, she sucked in her breath and closed her eyes tight.

  “Did that hurt?” he asked, his voice feather-soft. He was close. Closer than he needed to be, but still too far away.

  “No,” she breathed, helping him tug at the fabric. “I just...I just...”

  “I know.” He groaned when she pulled her arm free. “Other side.”

  Her left arm took longer, as she could barely lift it. Jericho took care not to jolt her. Once her dress was open to her waist, he rounded her backside with his strong hands and swept the fabric from her legs. That action alone had her wishing she was a bolder woman, one who wasn’t afraid to ask him to make love to her. But his face was set, as if he was trying hard to ignore her.

  He pulled a knife from his boot. “Can you lean forward?”

  She nodded then bent toward him, steadied by one of his strong arms. With a few slashes, the ties to her corset were cut, and he leaned her back against the rock. Its loosening allowed her to take a deeper breath. She smiled and closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling.

  “You’re a beautiful woman.”

  Her eyes snapped back to his, but he was examining her chemise, now that he’d tossed her corset near the horses. It seemed as if he wasn’t aware he’d spoken a word, but the admiration on his face was as plain as day. For a fleeting moment, she wondered what he’d do if she once again offered him her virtue. Kissing a young girl behind the schoolhouse was one thing. Having a half-naked woman in his lap was quite another.

  Jericho breathed through his nose, slow and steady, but she knew he wasn’t calm. A muscle ticked in his jaw while he untied her petticoats. She saw for herself how fast his pulse raced in his neck, and it was all she could do not to kiss him there, regardless of the pain it might cause her.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” he growled a moment before tugging off her petticoats.

  “Like what?” she asked innocently.

  He glared at her, and for once, she wasn’t taken aback. If anything, it excited her more.

  “Like you want me to ravish you. I won’t, you know.”

  Mercy’s heart was in her throat. “I didn’t expect you to,” she said in a shaky voice.

  He turned away, and the sound of ripping cloth filled the air. He made a few strips from her petticoats then faced her again, gesturing for her to hold up her chemise.

  Bunching up the fabric while he watched heated her blood. The material caressed her skin until her drawers and her belly were exposed. She stopped just short of her breasts, but he grabbed her hand and pushed it higher, lifting it over her head.

  “It’s a shame, darlin’, but we’ve gotta bind these too.”

  The moment her nipples touched the air, they tightened into fine points. The fabric sliding against them had made them sensitive, but that was nothing compared to the heat of his gaze.

  “Sweet mother of God,” he said under his breath. The strips of cloth were forgotten as he straddled her legs. “Tell me right now, Mercy Ainsworth, that I’m the only man to ever see this.”

  “I’ve never...” She shook her head.

  “Not even with Roger Ford?” His intensity shocked her as he pinned her with his eyes.

  She bit her lip. “He’s asked me to marry him a couple of times, but he’s never done more than kiss my cheek.”

  Something flashed across his face—satisfaction, perhaps—then it was gone. “Why did you refuse him?”

  She swallowed hard, but answered truthfully. “Because I didn’t love him.”

  Both of Jericho’s hands cupped her breasts at the same time, rubbing her nipples against his palms. The exquisite, unexpected sensation made her gasp. He lifted one breast to his lips and traced her areola with his tongue.

  “Who do you love?” he asked, moments before engulfing her with the heat of his mouth. Her hand was in his hair before she even realized she’d put it there.

  Through her shallow pants, she was able to breathe one word. “You.”

  Chapter Nine

  Mercy’s nipple hardened in his mouth, and Jericho couldn’t stop the groan that escaped him. He’d told her he wasn’t about to ravish her, but he was a lying bastard. The moment he saw her bare breasts combined with the sensual look in her eyes, he knew he was a goner. She had him wrapped around her finger, and he’d be willing to bet she had no idea.

  Her purrs of pleasure slammed through him like a freight train. He wanted to pull her underneath him and drive home to ease his ache, but her cracked ribs made that fantasy impossible. Instead, he made his way from her breast up her chest to her neck, where he nibbled on her delicate skin.

  The shudder she rewarded him with filled him with such excitement, his cock strained behind his jeans. Never in his life had he wanted a woman as badly as he wanted Mercy right here, right now. Hearing her confess she loved him had ignited his desire. She was his all over again.

  “I want you,” he whispered in her ear. “Every damn inch of you.”

  She turned her head toward him and winced. “I want you, too,” she replied. “But I’m not sure if I can do this.”

  Jericho leaned back and gazed into her tan-colored eyes. They told him everything, of her longing, her fear, and her pain.

  “I won’t ever hurt you.”

  Her fingers delved into his hair, holding on to him, keeping him close. “I know. But what about tomorrow?”

  He knew what she wanted to hear, but he had to be truthful, not only to respect her, but to respect all she’d ever done for his parents over the years.

  “I live my life day to day. I don’t make plans, and I sure as hell don’t make promises. I’m not that same boy you used to know.”

  “And I’m not that same girl.” She was silent for a long time before she spoke once more. “I thought I was over you. I thought I’d moved on. But seeing you again has only made me realize something.”

  “What’s that?”

  She bit her lip and bared her soul. “I was waiting for you to come back.”

  Mercy dropped her eyes and stared at his chest, her cheeks flaming. Embarrassment overcame her, but she knew if she ever wanted to have a chance of holding on to him and never letting go, she had to tell him her feelings, her true feelings, for him.

  “Mercy, I—”

  She stopped him with her finger to his lips. “I don’t expect you to sing me sonnets or write me love letters, Jericho. I know I won’t share your life or have your babies. I just... I just want this. I’ve always wanted this. With you.”

  He didn’t say a word for so long, she thought he might pull away, but he stayed right where he was, as if wondering what to do next.

  “Now that we’re here,” she said with a forlorn chuckle, “I’ve got a few cracked ribs and a rock digging into my back.”

  He smiled and brushed her cheek with his fingers. “Not at all like you’d envisioned?”

  She shrugged. “My father always told me, ‘You get what you get and be thankful.’ If being with you for one night on the hard ground is all I get, then I’ll take it.”

  She’d shocked him. She could see it written all over his face. Perhaps his boldness fueled her own, as she’d all but asked him to make love to her.

  He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but thought better of it. Instead, he pounced on her, holding her head fast for his onslaught of kisses. His tongue invaded her mouth, claiming hers with ardor. The taste of him intoxicated her, to the point of tugging on his shirt to bring him closer.

  Jericho ripped his mouth away, gasping for breath. He didn’t say a word, he merely grabbed her dress in the dirt and laid it out next to Mercy’s legs.

  “Come here,” he whispered, taking hold of her in his gentle hands. She scooted onto the fabric then leaned back, sucking in a gulp of air at the sudden shooting pain.

 
His eyes roved over her enormous bruise, right where Butcher had kicked her. Holding his weight on both hands, he hovered over her and pressed his lips to her battered skin.

  Mercy’s entire body broke into goose bumps and tears burned her eyes at the intimate gesture. When his lips once more returned to her nipple, all thoughts of pain were forgotten, and a new fire set in. One that started in her belly and spread throughout every one of her limbs.

  He left her breast only to dip lower, caressing her thighs and working his way to her boots. With a few swift tugs, they were untied, and he peeled them away slowly, taking her stockings with them and kissing the skin of her calves and ankles.

  Her drawers were chafing and wet, but she didn’t have long to think on it before Jericho slid his hands inside them, working them down her legs.

  If this was what going mad felt like, she was definitely losing her mind. She wanted to touch him and feel the skin he’d bared to her not long ago. She wanted his body above her, inside her.

  As if he’d read her mind, he crawled back over her, this time without his shirt. She raised her hands to stroke him, but thought better of it when her left side once again erupted in flames.

  “Leave this one down here,” he murmured, holding her hand on the ground. “This one, however, can go where it likes.” Jericho brought her right hand up and placed her palm on his chest. The slow, sexy grin he gave her stopped her heart, but she still managed to feel the texture of his skin and the springiness of his hair.

  “You are magnificent.” Her words, spoken in awe, seemed to fluster him. He broke eye contact and sat up, only to unbuckle his gun belt before laying it next to them. With that gone, he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down, leaving them and his boots in a pile behind him.

  All Mercy could do was stare. She yearned for him between her legs, and she spread them wide to accommodate him. He shook his head.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think I’d died and gone to heaven.” His gaze roved over her just as his hands had done, resting on her pussy. “Scratch that,” he said, a sly grin on his face. “You’re the angel who’s gonna take me to heaven.”