by Liliana Hart
Erotic Novellas By Liliana Hart
Dane
A Christmas Wish: Dane
Thomas
Riley
Cooper
A MacKenzie Christmas
Dominating Gracie
Double Jeopardy
The Madam Duchess
Who’s Riding Red?
Romance and Mystery Novels by Liliana Hart
Cade
Shadows and Silk
Secrets and Satin
Sins and Scarlet Lace
Kill Shot
Breath of Fire
All About Eve
Catch Me if You Can
Dirty Little Secrets
A Dirty Shame
Dirty Rotten Scoundrel
Paradise Disguised
Whiskey Rebellion
Whiskey Sour
Whiskey For Breakfast
Chapter One:
Where Victoria Stumbles Upon Something Unexpected
Victoria Goldenrod hated Texas.
In all honesty, she’d hated every place the wagon train had stopped once they’d left Boston. She was a lady—city born and bred—and the thought of living in the country was utterly distasteful.
Her anger festered as she thought of the short missive she’d received from Harold. She wasn’t even married to the man yet. How dare he have the nerve to demand she cross this Godforsaken wilderness so their wedding could take place at his ranch? Her family wouldn’t even be able to attend the ceremony because of his demands.
But here she was, doing just as Harold wanted. Her father had told her she was being unreasonable and childish to ask Harold to take time from his busy schedule and come to Boston for their wedding. Harold was an important—and wealthy—man, and heaven forbid she put the financial security of her entire family at stake just because she wanted to be married in a church that didn’t have sawdust on the floor.
She sighed and closed her eyes to ward off the pitiful images bombarding her mind. There was nothing she could do about it now. She was mere hours from her destination. And Harold. Not that there was anything wrong with Harold. But she’d prefer not to think about him or what the rest of her life married to him would be like.
Nausea roiled in her stomach and she dug her fingers into the edge of her seat as they hit a particularly bumpy stretch of the trail. She’d heard the wagon master saying there hadn’t been rain in weeks. The ground was dry and the trails rutted deeply where previous wagon parties had traveled before. She’d give anything for a chance to get out of the stifling wagon and stretch her legs.
The base of her neck was wet with perspiration and her blonde curls were damp so they clung to her skin like limp stalks of wheat. Sweat trailed down her spine—beneath her corset—which seemed to make the contraption constrict even tighter around her with every breath she took. Despite the vigor with which she used her fan, it was impossible to turn the hot, stagnant air into anything resembling a cool breeze. Texas had to be just on the other side of hell, plain and simple.
She could at least be grateful for Harold’s insistence that she have a wagon all to herself. It wasn’t even a real wagon like the others in their party. It was a carriage that had been outfitted with sturdier wheels and padded seats and windows that opened to let in a breeze. She couldn’t imagine riding all that way on a hard bench and out in the open sun like the others. She shuddered at the mere thought of it.
Harold had been more than happy to take care of the expense of the carriage to assure she wasn’t accosted by other travelers, and he’d paid the wagon master in gold to lead the team of horses and protect her if the need should arise. The wagon master would receive another payment in gold once she reached the station in Wilmont safely.
Victoria had received plenty of looks that made her skin crawl from some of the other passengers—a group of men who were obviously laborers of some kind—but all the wagon master had to do was sit in front of her tent at the night with his rifle in his lap, and the men seemed content enough to leave her alone. There was one other married couple on the long trip, but they didn’t have eyes for anything or anyone but each other, so after supper they always went back to their wagon and she was left without anyone to converse with.
She closed her eyes in relief as she felt the horses slow and come to a stop. It was just after noon, and when she glanced out the window she saw an area thick with scraggly pine trees and somewhat hardier oaks. Even the trees seemed to be defeated under the blazing heat of the sun.
Victoria waited until the wagon master (his name was Michael, she was almost sure) opened her door and held out a hand to help her down. They’d have a quick lunch in the shade before making the rest of the trip.
“How far are we from the station, Sir?” Victoria asked.
“Bout another ten miles or so. It’ll be dark afore we git there.”
He spat a stream of brown tobacco juice to the side of her feet and walked off to tend to the horses. Victoria cringed and held her fingers lightly to her nose to stifle the smell and moved toward her pack of supplies. The last thing she wanted to do was fill her stomach with anything other than water, but she knew she needed to eat something, so she grabbed a couple of apples. The small bucket she used to hold her water was empty, so she’d have to find a way to refill it before they set off again.
Even as she had the thought the wagon master called out, “There’s a crick about a mile southwest through them trees. Drink yer fill. If you drop on me in this heat I’m leavin’ ya behind.” He spat again and turned back to the horses.
Like hell he would, Victoria thought. There was too much gold on the line for him to go very far without her. And Harold would probably kill the wagon master if he dared show up without her at the station in Wilmont.
Victoria sighed and finished her apple, tossing the core into the field for scavengers. She’d never see civilization again—never wear the latest fashions. She was doomed to live in this terrible existence forever until the sun and dust dried her up like a prune.
She grabbed her water bucket and began the mile trek to the creek. Once she got out of sight from prying eyes, she tied her skirts in a knot between her legs so she could move more swiftly. Her skirts were already wrinkled beyond repair. Harold would be horrified at the sight of her, and just the thought had her giggling as her steps turned into skips.
Harold always loved that she never had a hair out of place. She was beautiful and young, her skin flawless and her teeth white and straight. Her family had a good reputation and she was educated. All the things Harold needed in a wife. It was very telling that he’d had to come all the way to Boston to find her. And she’d been powerless to spurn his advances. Her family needed her to marry well.
Victoria looked down at the dirt smudged on her shoes and the wrinkles in her skirt. Harold wouldn’t be impressed with her if he saw her like this. In fact, she wouldn’t be the least surprised if he sent her all the way back to Boston.
It was much cooler under the shade of the trees, and the gurgle of water could be heard in the distance. Her steps quickened in excitement. There was no reason she couldn’t take a quick bath. It would cool her off and make her a little more presentable when they pulled into the station. It’s not as if the wagon party could leave without her. And it served the wagon master right after he’d had the nerve to threaten to leave her.
The trees went right up to the side of the creek on both sides, and the bank was steep and filled with loose dirt and pine needles. She went down a little farther along the bank than she normally would have for privacy’s sake until she came to three white boulders that sat in the middle of the creek. Their size acted as a natural dam so one side of the creek was fairly
shallow, but on the other side of the boulders she’d be able to wade in waist deep. And the boulders would keep her hidden.
Victoria untied her lavender bonnet with the deep purple plumes sewn to the brim and draped it carefully around a tree branch to keep it off the ground. She unbuttoned her matching skirt and took it off, shaking it out as best she could before laying it flat on one of the rocks. Her white blouse, with the touch of lace at the collar and petticoats, followed so she was left in her corset and pantaloons. She was tempted to toss the corset into the creek and watch it wash away with the current, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Her mother would be mortified if she found out she wasn’t wearing the proper undergarments.
Once the corset and her pantaloons lay beside her clothing, she breathed in deeply and stretched her arms above her head, bringing relief to her sore ribs and worn muscles. Her toe dipped into the creek and she moaned as the cool water lapped at her heated skin, before wading all the way into the water.
She repinned her goldenrod curls, knowing she wouldn’t have time for them to dry before she went back to the others, and sunk down in the water shoulder deep. After doing without so many necessities for the last weeks, it was pure luxury to indulge herself now. She enjoyed the beauty of the sunlight through the trees as it dappled across the water. The branches of the trees waved softly and birds could be heard in the distance. She only wished she’d thought to grab the clump of rose scented soap she had hidden in her belongings.
Too much time had already passed, so with regret, she waded out of the water only to have her solitude interrupted by the breaking of twigs and muted conversation. She quickly dove back in, getting her hair wet at the ends after all, and hid behind the boulders. She pulled her clothes closer to her side of the rocks so they couldn’t be seen, and peeped through a small crag to see who her intruders were.
Victoria breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the familiar faces of the newlyweds who rode in the wagon directly behind her carriage. They’d introduced themselves as Samuel and Caroline Clemons when they’d joined the wagon train in Kentucky, and Victoria found them friendly enough when they could take their eyes off of each other long enough to carry on a conversation.
Caroline was probably two or three years younger than Victoria’s own twenty-one years, and she had the wholesome look of a farmer’s daughter, with thick auburn hair and freckles across the bridge of her nose. Samuel was several years older, probably closer to thirty. If he hadn’t told Victoria they were headed to Texas to stake out farm land, she would have been able to guess it by looking at him. He wasn’t a tall man, but he was broad and muscled across the shoulders and chest from working the fields, and his hands were large and calloused. He wasn’t an unhandsome man by any means, and his smile was quite nice when he decided to use it.
They each carried empty buckets and Victoria waited patiently for them to get their water and leave, but Samuel pulled Caroline into his arms and began nuzzling against her neck, making her squirm and giggle against him.
“Samuel, stop it,” Caroline said, swatting his hands away and skirting out of his reach with a flirtatious smile. She went down to the water’s edge and took off her boots and socks before stepping into the shallow water just on the other side of the rocks Victoria was hiding behind.
Caroline lifted her skirts, much like Victoria had, and tied them up so they’d stay clear of the water before bending down and filling her bucket.
“Now, darlin’,” Samuel said. “You can’t expect to tempt me with a glimpse of those fine legs and not pay the consequences.”
Victoria watched in fascination as Samuel unbuttoned his white work shirt and tossed it to the ground. Her breath caught at the sight of his chest, broad and muscled with a smattering of dark hair that trailed down to the waist of his trousers. No wonder the couple always left after supper to go back to their wagon.
“Samuel,” Caroline said, looking around to see if others had followed them. “We don’t have time for that now. We’ve got to get back to the wagon before they leave us behind.”
“We’ve got plenty of time, sugar. You heard him say we couldn’t leave until he repaired one of the wheels. We might be stuck here all night.”
Samuel’s fingers went to the fastening of his trousers and Victoria put her hands over her eyes, but curiosity got the best of her and she peeked through her fingers. She’d never actually seen a naked man before. Not in broad daylight and not all at once. Her one experience with a naked man had left much to be desired in her estimation.
On the night that Harold had proposed to her, Victoria had played coy and told him she wasn’t sure she was ready to wed, and that she’d need to discuss it with her parents. She’d promised him he’d have her answer by the end of the week. Putting him off that way was a mistake she wasn’t likely to make again. No one ever gave Harold Cromley an answer he didn’t want to hear without paying the consequences.
Harold had climbed the trellis outside of her window and slipped into her room that night. By the time Victoria had woken and realized she was no longer alone, Harold was already naked in bed beside her, and her nightgown had been slit up the middle with his hunting knife so she lay completely exposed to him.
Her room had been pitch black, only a sliver of moon peeking through the window, and all she could see was the whites of Harold’s eyes as he pressed his body against her. Terror had filled her soul before she realized who it was, and she fought against him, trying not to think of the hair on his chest that tickled her breasts or the strange hardness that pressed against her thigh.
He’d kissed her hard on the lips and told her if she made any noise that her parents would find them in a compromising position and be ashamed of her. All he had to do was say that Victoria had agreed to marry him and asked him to come upstairs with her, and her parents would believe him. She knew he was right. Harold was a smooth talker and could convince anyone of just about anything. No matter which circumstance she chose, the outcome would be the same. She’d have to marry Harold.
So Victoria had opened her mouth to accept his wet kisses and spread her legs when he pressed against them so the hard length of his prick nudged against her folds. She held her whimpers to a minimum when he pushed himself inside of her and tore her maidenhead. The only good thing about the whole ordeal was that it hadn’t taken very long.
Harold had stiffened and let out a groan that sounded as if it had come from a dying animal against her neck, just before he went slack on top of her. He lay that way a long time, long enough that she’d feared he’d gone to sleep, and his breath heaved in and out of his lungs like a steam engine. But he finally found the strength to lift himself off of her and get out of bed.
She could only see the silhouette of his body as he dressed and saw no sign of the rigid part of him that had breached her innocence. He dressed quietly before going over to the window and lifting it.
“We’ll be married next month at my ranch,” he said, not bothering to even look back at her. “I’ll have the details messengered over to your father in the morning. Do we understand each other?”
“Yes,” she whispered, not even recognizing the sound of her own voice.
He was already out the window when he called her name. “Oh, and Victoria. I’d suggest you do a little research as to how a woman is supposed to please her husband in the bedroom. I don’t care how you do it, but I expect our couplings from now on to have a little enthusiasm on your part.”
Victoria shook the memories away and gazed at the perfection of Samuel’s body. She was positive that Harold would have looked nothing like that if she’d gotten to actually see him fully. Samuel was hard all over—from his thick chest, to the heavy muscles in his thighs that looked as if they should belong to a thoroughbred, to the rigid member that jutted from between his legs.
Victoria licked her lips and squeezed her legs together as a kind of maddening pressure built between her thighs. Her breasts felt heavy and her breathing was shallow
and fast.
“I mean it, Samuel,” Caroline said worriedly, looking around once more. “Someone might see us.”
“Everyone else is back at the camp taking advantage of the shade and an afternoon nap. It’s just you and me, sweetheart.”
He waded into the water slowly until he came up just behind Caroline. He took the bucket from her hand and tossed it up on the bank. Victoria had a perfect view of them from the side.
Caroline leaned her head back against Samuel and moaned as he ran his hands over the curve of her hips up to her breasts, where he massaged them gently. He kissed the side of her neck and walked her over to the bank of the creek.
Victoria’s hands went to her breasts as she watched the care with which he fondled and squeezed Caroline’s. He helped her step out of the water and released the fastenings on her skirts as she held on to his shoulders for balance. It wasn’t long before she was as naked as he, and he pulled her back into the water, kissing her gently as their bodies fit together in a tight embrace.
Samuel kissed his way down her neck to the ripe tips of her breast, taking her nipple into his mouth and sucking gently. Victoria could feel the pull between her thighs with every suckle, as if it were her breasts he was laving attention to. She’d never imagined that there could be such joy in the marriage act—that it could be something much more than a duty.
Victoria’s fingers trailed down her stomach to the thatch of blond curls between her legs. They were moist, and as she trailed her fingers between the folds, she found them slippery with passion. The hidden bud of her desire was swollen, and every flick of her finger sent shivers coursing through her body.
Victoria watched as Caroline became the aggressor—as her kisses became fierce with need and her nails raked down Samuel’s back, leaving red streaks in their wake. Caroline knelt in the water so Samuel’s prick stood just in front of her mouth. They shared a look so intense and full of passion that Victoria almost had to look away. Almost.
Caroline raked her nails down Samuel’s thighs, and Victoria watched as he sucked in a startled breath. His cock flexed, and Victoria found she couldn’t take her eyes off of the fascinating member. It was so hard, and though it wasn’t terribly long, Caroline was having difficulty wrapping her hand around it.
