by Debra Cowan
As he worked his way down, the fabric parted to reveal glimpses of her pearly skin dusted with freckles. Full breasts swelled over the top edge of her chemise. He didn’t know why she hadn’t worn a corset today, but he was glad.
She slid her blouse off and he curved his hand around one warm, lush breast. Her breathing hitched when he brushed a thumb across her taut nipple. Impatient to see the rest of her, he untied the ribbon on her chemise and pushed the loose fabric off her shoulders, baring her to the waist.
Her creamy breasts were full, her nipples rosy and tight.
For a long moment, he just stared, taking in the soft pink hue of arousal on her fair skin.
Looking self-conscious, she shifted. “Quentin.”
“I’m just thanking my lucky stars, sweetheart. You’re a sight.”
She blushed, raising her hands to cover herself.
He stopped her, covering the plump flesh with his hands instead. A breath shuddered out of her. That quickly, his blood heated.
He reached for her, but she drew away.
“I don’t want to shuck out of my clothes if you aren’t.”
He pulled his white shirt over his head and dropped it on the floor. Just as he undid the buttons on his trousers, she touched his chest.
He looked up to find her gaze tracking over his torso. She flexed her fingers in the dark hair there then laid her palm over his heart. She looked completely taken with him, as if she were seeing him for the first time.
“You’ve seen me without a shirt before,” he said gruffly, his entire body going hard. He slept in only his short drawers.
“Yes, but I tried not to look.”
He grinned. Much to his consternation, she always kept to her side of the bed and he hadn’t tried to coax her closer. Now he didn’t have to.
She looked at him with anticipation and awe. Expectation.
It brought him up short. For the first time, Quentin was hit with doubt. What if he couldn’t do his part?
Did she sense his uncertainty? If so, it didn’t stop her from leaning forward and kissing him. When she pulled the tapes on her drawers and pushed them off, Quentin removed his trousers. He waited until she got rid of her shoes and stockings before pulling her down onto the bed.
She knelt beside him, her eyes full of trust and caring. Thoughts of leaving them both unsatisfied disappeared from his mind. There was only Zoe and she was perfect.
She watched him with a look of wonder on her face. At least she wasn’t wary, but she wasn’t moving fast enough either. He fought for control. He wanted to make it as good for her as possible, but he was on a hair trigger.
Her gaze traced slowly over him, causing a prickle of heat under his skin. She stared for so long that he started to worry she might call a halt.
She reached out then let her hand drop. “Is there anywhere I shouldn’t touch you? Your surgery—”
“You can touch me anywhere, Zoe. I won’t break.” He caught her hand and closed it around him.
Acute sensation shot through him, the intensity taking him off guard. There was a razor-sharp sting in his lower back.
“Quentin?” Concern clouded her blue eyes.
The pain faded to a warm pulse of pleasure. “I’m all right.”
Her hands smoothed up his chest then back over his stomach to his thighs. He drew her to him for a kiss, sliding a palm down her smooth belly and easing a finger into her silky heat.
“Oh!” She arched toward him.
“Too much?”
“No, it’s good,” she breathed.
The sight of her, naked and flushed with desire, unraveled something inside him. He curled another finger inside her and waited until her body softened for him. When his thumb circled the sensitive knot between her legs, she cried out and gripped his shoulder.
She shifted impatiently, taking him in her hand. As her gaze lifted to his, her fingers stilled. Blushing, she asked, “What’s the best way for you?”
“You on top.” He grazed her cheekbone with his thumb, loving the sight of all that red hair cascading around her shoulders. “But that might hurt you more and I don’t want that for your first time.”
“I’ll be all right.”
“No.”
“Yes,” she insisted, easing onto his lap and straddling him.
He hesitated, fighting the rush in his blood that urged him to bury himself in her right now. “It’s been so long. I hope I haven’t forgotten how,” he murmured.
“I hope so, too, because I’ve sure never done this be fore.”
He chuckled.
Her eyes were soft with desire. With caring. “I want it to be good.”
He cupped her cheek. “It will be just because it’s you and me.”
She smiled at that. He wasn’t sure how much control he could manage.
She shifted and after long, deliciously excruciating minutes, he guided her down on him, watching for any sign of discomfort.
He thought she winced, and stopped. “You okay?”
“Oh, yes.”
But he caught a flash of discomfort on her face. He held her hips until she relaxed. “There’s no hurry, honey.”
She nodded, but as soon as he loosened his fingers, she pushed down hard, drawing in a sharp breath.
So did he, clamping his hands firmly on her hips. “Slow down, Zoe. Don’t rush it.”
“I’m okay,” she said breathlessly.
The tight clutch of her around him felt good. He slid his fingers into her hair and kissed her, deep and slow.
She was only his, had never been with another man. That filled him with a primitive, fierce satisfaction as he nuzzled her neck then bit down gently on her earlobe.
“Oh!” She sank down fully on him.
He could feel her, not just with just his hands, but with his whole body. It was incredible! And before his surgery, it was something he had almost stopped hoping for. Wanting to relish every sensation, every second, he held her still until she squirmed against him.
“Quentin?”
“Hmm.” He kissed his way to her breast, taking her in his mouth.
“Do something.” She tightened her muscles on him and he surged inside her. “Yes, that,” she breathed.
He wrapped his arms around her and brought her even closer, enjoying the feel of her naked flesh against his. The amber light from the setting sun veiled her hair, bringing out the fiery color, giving her ivory skin a golden glow.
Those sky-blue eyes never left his. He could feel the heat beneath her skin, the pounding of her heart against his.
A ragged moan spilled out of her and it set something off inside him. Something primitive and fierce. Flattening a hand against her lower back, he tilted her slightly and began to move. Hard-edged want moved through him, but there was no pain. Just a spike of sensation all over his body.
She let him guide her, holding his face, her blue eyes liquid with desire. He rocked inside her in a slow steady motion, muscles coiling as he fought to wait for her. Finally, she let go and so did he.
Afterward, she laid her head on his chest. She was finally, really his.
They sat together as their pulses slowed, their skin damp and hot. The headboard was rough against Quentin’s back.
Pleasure shone on Zoe’s face and a tenderness he’d never felt swept through him.
They lay there, drowsy, watching the end-of-day sunlight slant across the foot of the bed. After a long moment, she said, “I’m sorry I couldn’t go to the doctor with you today.”
“That’s all right. I know how busy you’ve been because of all these visitors to Whirlwind. Both the Whirlwind Hotel and the Fontaine are full to capacity.”
She stiffened and his arms automatically locked around her, but she stayed put.
“Tell me what Annalise said during your visit today.”
“She believes I’ll regain full sensation and likely the use of my legs.”
“Well, we know she was right about the full sensation,” she said
huskily.
He laughed, skimming his hand up and down her velvety back.
“I want to thank you again for offering to let Zeke invest in your bees.” She snuggled into him. “You did something for him that I’ve never been able to do.”
“What’s that?”
“You gave him confidence in himself. And a way to make a living if something happens to you or me.” She lightly stroked his chest.
It took a moment for her words to work past the desire clouding his thoughts. Why would she say that? He frowned down at her. “Something like what?”
“Nothing in particular. Just if one or both of us passed away or was hurt.”
He thought her hand trembled slightly and the smile she gave him this time was wobbly.
“I don’t think you need to worry so much about Zeke, especially in regard to his money.” In an effort to reassure Zoe, Quentin said, “He told me earlier that he was no longer interested in Weaver’s bonds. He told Weaver the same.”
Expecting her to be relieved, Quentin was surprised when she tensed against him. “Are you afraid Zeke will do it anyway?”
“No,” she said brusquely. “Are you planning to invest?”
Why was she vexed? Things had been going well until he’d mentioned the bonds. “No, I don’t plan to.”
“Good.” She relaxed slightly, settling against him.
Her anxiety had something to do with the bonds. Or was it because of Weaver or Gordon? Testing his theory, Quentin said, “Plenty of people have bought, though. Weaver and his partner have done a lot of business here.”
Twin spots of color flagged her cheeks. Angry color. Any mention of the water-company agent or his partner put Zoe on edge.
He tried to remember when his wife had begun acting spooked. He thought it was around the time Weaver came to town. But why would that upset her?
They were as close now as two people could be. Surely she would confide in him.
“I love you, Zoe.”
She looked up at him. She didn’t say anything and he couldn’t deny that her silence hurt like hell. He had no defenses against this woman. He knew she trusted him not to push her away again. Why couldn’t she stop doing it to him?
She raised up on one elbow and kissed him. She might not be speaking the words, but he could read the caring in her soft touch on his face, the increasing intensity of their kiss.
Why wouldn’t she just say it? Quentin fought back his frustration and irritation. She appeared to want their marriage to work. She was slowly letting him in, dropping her guard. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
Still, he wanted more. He wanted his wife, body, soul and heart.
Tomorrow, he was going to find out what she was keeping from him and he wasn’t taking no for an answer.
The next morning, Zoe lay in bed next to Quentin. She slowly came awake. She was tender in places she’d never been tender.
She looked up to find him still asleep. His hair was tousled, whiskers shadowing his jaw.
She was his wife in every way now.
The hard lines of his body fitted against the curved softness of hers. The first pinkish-white light of day flowed through the window and over his naked body. Quentin was as hot as a furnace. The sheet covered her, but his hips were draped with only the edge of the linen.
She admired the lean taper of his torso, the band of muscles across his belly, his solid sun-bronzed arms. He smelled of man and salt and a little bit of her. After another long moment of indulgence, she carefully slipped out of bed to fix breakfast.
Quentin loved her. And she loved him. But Zoe hadn’t told him so last night. It didn’t feel right to say those words when she was keeping something from him.
And she’d seen the hurt in his eyes. That had caused her pain, too. He’d been patient, more than she deserved. Yesterday, Weaver had led her to believe that he and his partner were leaving Whirlwind today. As soon as the con men made tracks out of town, she was going to tell Quentin everything. She just hoped it wasn’t too late.
After about thirty minutes, Zoe heard Quentin stir in the bedroom. Using his cane, he walked into the kitchen and her heart swelled again at the progress he’d made. He wore only dark trousers and the sight of his tautly muscled flesh had her remembering last night and the second time they’d made love.
Her gaze followed the dark hair on his chest down to the well-hewn plane of his stomach. She nearly burned her fingers as she took the biscuits out of the stove.
“Morning.” The huskiness of his voice sent a shiver through her.
“Good morning.”
He waited until she set the biscuits and ham on the table then he hooked one arm around her waist and pulled her to him for a kiss. Zoe held him tight, kissing him back.
“Yuk!”
Zeke’s voice had them pulling apart. A flush heated her neck and Quentin winked at her.
“What’s for breakfast?” her brother asked then blinked at Quentin. “Hey, you’re walking!”
“Yes.”
Zeke beamed as he sat next to his brother-in-law. Zoe joined them. As they ate, Quentin watched her intently. At first, she thought he might be thinking about last night. She’d done her fair share of that. But as the meal progressed, she decided his thoughts had nothing to do with their marriage bed. A couple of times he acted as if he wanted to say something then his gaze flicked to Zeke and he remained silent. It made her stomach knot up.
His gaze met hers. “Good breakfast, sweetheart.”
“Thank you.” Her fingers tangled in her skirts as she smiled. “Do you plan to help Hoot at the paper today?”
“For a while.”
“I’m working at the Fontaine.”
“I’m helping at Haskell’s,” Zeke said around his bite of biscuit.
Zoe checked the pocket watch Quentin had set in the middle of the table. “Oh! I didn’t realize how late it was.”
She rose, hesitating when she realized that Quentin wasn’t finished.
“I’ll clear the table,” he said.
“Thank you.”
“Do you have to rush off?” He snagged her hand. “I wanted to talk to you.”
The purpose in his dark eyes plucked at her nerves. Was he going to ask her again what she was keeping from him? He had every right, especially after last night.
“I’m afraid I do need to go.” She planned to make sure Weaver had left Whirlwind or was close to doing so then she could tell Quentin everything, including that she loved him.
She laid a hand on his shoulder. “We could meet back here for lunch.”
He searched her face. “All right, I’ll see you then.”
After giving him a quick kiss, she finished dressing, put up her hair and left with her brother. More than ready for this thing with Weaver to be over, Zoe waited at the corner of the livery. From here, she could watch Zeke make his way down the street to the mercantile.
And she’d be able to see if Weaver came out of the Fontaine.
She smiled when her brother mounted the steps to the mercantile and turned to wave at her. Hopeful for the first time in weeks, she started for the hotel.
Yesterday, before coming home to find her husband on his feet, before they had made love, she had wired her grandfather to ask if he knew anything about Weaver or his partner. Upton had sent back a telegram saying he would get back to her after talking to one of his business associates whom he believed knew Weaver.
After that, Zoe had snooped in the con man’s hotel room while she’d cleaned it. She had found nothing to prove the swindler was lying about the water well and the bonds. Even though the man was leaving today, she wanted some evidence. That way, maybe Quentin or Davis Lee might be able to get back some of the money taken from Whirlwind’s citizens.
She looked up to see the swindler step out of the hotel. He had on trousers and a shirt, not a suit and hat like he’d worn when he had first arrived in town. There was no valise, no luggage at all that she could see. The only thing i
n his hand was what appeared to be a wooden sign. He certainly didn’t look like someone who was leaving town. In fact, he looked as settled in as he ever had.
No! She marched right up to him, hands clenched into fists at her sides. “Why are you still here? You said you were leaving.”
“Good day, Mrs. Prescott.”
“Answer me.”
“My stay has been extended slightly.”
“Your stay? Get out of here and leave these people alone.”
His pleasant features turned dark. “I’ll leave when I want.”
Anger boiled inside her and when she saw the words on his sign, she became incensed. It read that there were still bonds available for the water well. For a second, Zoe couldn’t breathe. “What do you think you’re doing with that?”
“Putting it out near the future well site at Little Bitter Creek.”
She lowered her voice, so furious she was shaking. “You are not stealing money from anyone else in Whirlwind.”
“No? What do you plan to do about it?”
“Go to the sheriff, that’s what!”
“I think not.” His eyes narrowed to cold slits. “I figured you might not take too kindly to my staying on so I got a little insurance.”
He motioned behind her and she turned. At first, she only saw her brother sweeping Haskell’s porch. Then she caught sight of Cyrus Gordon. Weaver’s accomplice stood at the corner of the store, hand on the pistol at his hip as he watched Zeke in a calculating, threatening manner. Alarm shot through her.
Weaver lowered his voice. “Cyrus is going to stay close to your brother until I order him to stop.”
“Tell him now.” She barely kept her voice from cracking. “I said I would keep quiet about you stealing people’s hard-earned money and I have.”
His eyes turned cold. “As long as you keep your mouth shut, your brother and your husband will be safe.”
He stepped past her and angled across the street toward the telegraph office and post office. Dismissing her, just like that.
Nails digging into her palms, Zoe wished for a gun. She was not a crack shot, but she could handle a weapon. Still, she didn’t think she could shoot anyone unless they were firing on her or someone else.
