Raising Kane (Rough Riders #9)(71)

“I imagine so,” Ginger murmured. “But your woman hasn’t left you.”


Kane muttered something that sounded like “Not yet.”


She wanted so badly to soothe him. Kane constantly touched her when they were alone together.


Tender lover’s caresses on her face. Running his work-roughened fingertips down her neck. Twisting sections of her hair around his fingers. Playing dot to dot with her freckles on her.


How could she show him the same loving care he’d shown her?


“Don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Lettie happily supplied Ginger with what she needed. She returned to the bar with a washcloth and a bowl of hot water.


“What the hell’s that for?”


“I’m going to clean you up.”


“Can’t stand to look at me with blood on my face?” he said curtly.


“Blood, swollen spots and bruises on your handsome mug does affix you with a sort of sexy, rugged meanness. But the truth is, I was hoping for one of your amazing kisses. The taste of blood might spoil it.”


His stoic face softened. “I’ll give you all the kisses you can handle, sugar.”


“Good. Then hold still and let me play doctor.” Her gaze zoomed to the broken skin below his lips.


“Turn ’bout is fair play, right?”


She didn’t respond. She just gently dabbed the spots until all the blood was gone. There wasn’t a damn thing she could do about the bruises, except offer them a healing kiss, which she did. On his mouth, his jaw, the cut by his temple, his cheek. She also pressed soft kisses on the section of his lips that weren’t swollen.


“Ginger,” he said huskily, nuzzling her hair, “You make me want…”


“I know. But right now, I want to dance with you, Kane.”


“Why?”


Because I want an excuse to wrap myself around you and just hold you. “Because there’s no one here to see my two left feet.”


“Really?” he asked skeptically.


“Really. I fell down the stairs, remember? I’m utterly graceless. I’ve watched you with Hayden.


You’re a wonderful teacher. I figured if anyone could teach me, you could.”


“Okay. But I get to pick the songs.”


Kane hopped off the barstool and made a beeline for the jukebox.


She yelled, “No ‘Honky Tonk Badonkadonk’, Kane McKay. I mean it.”


He laughed and started shoving in quarters.


Selections chosen, he stood on the edge of the empty dance floor and held out his hand.


Ginger wasn’t sure why she felt nervous; she just did. As she started toward him, the Eddie Arnold classic “Make the World Go Away” drifted from the jukebox. When Kane’s rough fingers enclosed hers, the heat lingering beneath the surface sparked. When he enfolded her in his arms, that same spark ignited.


She wanted skin on skin, mouth on mouth, wanted to feel him above her as his body sought the entrance to hers.


But this cheek-to-cheek, chest-to-chest, pelvis-to-pelvis position was a good temporary substitute.


They drifted together through the mellow song, not talking, just dancing. The second song kicked in, Barbara Mandrell’s “Sleeping Single in a Double Bed” and Kane kicked up the pace, deftly swinging her into two-stepping. Just when Ginger thought she might have to take a breather, the third song started: Big and Rich’s “Lost in This Moment”. She sighed. How had he known she loved this song?


Kane barely moved as they slow-danced. Ginger was truly lost—in the solid heat of Kane’s body, surrounded by his earthy scent, his hard muscles pressed against her softness.


“I like dancin’ with you, counselor.”


“Same goes.”


“Wanna know a secret?”


“Ah. Sure.”


“I love that you’re tall. I don’t have to crouch down to dance with you and wind up with a crick in my neck.”


“Being an Amazonian throwback does have advantages.”


“Wanna know something else?” he whispered, sending a tingle strait to her core.


“What?”


“You don’t have two left feet. You just needed to be with a man who takes the lead.”


“Who takes the lead in all things,” she murmured.


He stiffened. “Complaints?”


“Not on your life, cowboy. You’ve been avoiding me since the blizzard.”


“I’ve been busy.”


“Hayden misses you.” I miss you too.


“Good to know.”


That was it? They weren’t going to talk about the over-the-top, totally domineering sexual encounter in his bedroom? How she’s sensed his regret as he’d untied the ropes and she’d been more pissed off by that than by his intensive use of her body? It’d scared her how much she’d liked it. How much she’d wanted it again. How easily she could give everything over to this man. That was what’d bothered her. Not his rough side.