The sound of Alex's voice, whispering in her ear, his passion aroused and apparent in the deep bass tones, made Glee press back even harder. When he moaned again, she squirmed, feeling the power of herself for the first time in her life.
Bravely, she reached between her legs and felt the slick hardness of him as he began to slide in and out of her with delightfully slow, sensuous strokes. The mental image the touch produced reminded her of pictures she'd seen while in the harem - pictures of men and women in scandalous erotic postures. A surprising rush of carnal desire brought a growl to her throat as she squirmed against Alex, unashamed and unabashed.
Alex's hand covered hers and led her fingers to the super-sensitive, swollen button of her sex. Together, they teased it, hips moving in unison with increasing speed.
Glee's cries were mindless groans and growls of never-before-known sensation; Alex's were a combination of delight at the sensual depth of his partner, and pure masculine lust.
When, at last, they reached their pinnacle, they were breathless, wet with sweat, and slightly stunned at the remarkable perfection they'd achieved. Words were unnecessary.
Alex rolled slightly away from Glee, reaching for his shirt and then began applying it to his body like a towel.
Shyly, Glee rose to her knees. "Let me, Alex. Please?"
Arching an eyebrow, Alex acquiesced, laying back so that Glee might dry him. Her touch was gentle and yet thorough. She blushed as she cleansed the sticky wetness from him, and yet she did not demur. Somehow, doing this small service for him completed the act with perfect intimacy in her mind.
When she was done, and he had likewise wiped the sweat from her body, he held her close for a long time.
"You know, Alex," she began a while later. "It's very important to me to finish writing Father's last novel."
"Si, my love, I know."
"I really wouldn't want anything to delay or prevent me from working on it."
Alex's eyes opened and he turned his head to look at her intensely. "What would do that?"
Glee watched him from beneath her lashes, unwilling to look him straight in the eye, but equally unwilling to lose the opportunity to clarify things with him. "Well... you and me, for one thing."
She thought he stiffened slightly, but he made no comment, closing his eyes again.
"I mean," she stuttered. "Now that we are a we, Alex, I think it's important for us to discuss these things. Don't you?"
He shrugged. "Perhaps."
A small premonition of discomfort caused Glee's voice to rise in pitch, and though she detested it, there was nothing she could do for it. "Now, Alex, you know what a traditionalist you are. Isn't it going to be somewhat of an embarrassment to you to have a wife who's more interested in ink pots and plot notes than in needlepoint and recipes?"
He rolled away, and Glee's heart surged into her throat. When he stood and turned from her, taking inordinate care to choose this stick and that twig to renew their dying fire, Glee's mind began to race.
"If I had such a wife, yes, it would take some getting used to," he said.
She saw his chest expand with a deep breath before he said, "But it is not something which I can contemplate right now."
Glee felt a prickle of tears beneath her eyelids, as she roughly pulled on her drawers and chemise. "I see," was all she could say, which pretty much summed it up for her. She did see, all right. She saw that Alex found her good enough to hold and caress; foolish enough to give him her virginity; and yet, she was not the sort of woman he'd want for his wife! Obviously, this little interlude of passion was only a physical distraction for him, and not the soul-changing experience that it had been for her. What a fool she had been! She had finally seen and felt something so staggering that she had been willing to lose herself in it—in him. It had made her put aside her goal of total independence and made her see the possibility of something more enriching, more perfect: a union that was not simply two people, but two consciousnesses forming something greater than each of them separately. But Alex, whether too shallow or too arrogant, apparently hadn’t found the same profound enlightenment.
"I am sorry," he said softly. The pain in his voice was completely lost on the woman nearby.
Glee pulled an ugly dress over her undergarments and snorted her bitterness. "Go to hell."
* * * *
It seemed like conversation was a futile notion. Alex wanted desperately to explain to her about Linnet, and yet could not. She would feel used and hate him. Perhaps he deserved her scorn, even though she had been a very willing participant. When he looked at Glee he wanted to hold her, make her part of him again, soothe her fears, but had to hold himself back.
Suddenly, it seemed so very wrong to be engaged to Linnet. He was, however, and he had no choice but to honor his word to her. His honor, his word, meant everything in his world.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he had hoped that Glee's need for independence would lead them into an ongoing affair; that he could keep her for his mistress though he'd be married to Linnet. It was usual among his peers, and something he'd considered before Magdalena's untimely death. He felt very foolish. The beautiful redhead was so different from anyone he'd ever encountered before, that he couldn't predict her, no matter how he might want to. It was more than a little irritating that in this instance she'd choose to conform to society's protocols rather than not.
* * * *
The early morning silence, broken only by Glee’s and Alex's now-habitual monosyllabic comments, was more profound than had been the case in the four mornings previous. Upon investigation, Alex reported that the snowstorm had abated, and that it might be possible for them to continue on toward California.
As elated as she should have been, Glee's enthusiasm was somehow lacking. For the life of her, she couldn't fathom why she'd want to remain in the stuffy little cave with a mendacious, zampara like Alex Pacheco, and yet... As she carefully crated their diminishing stores of food, she realized that something deeply significant had happened to her there.
She watched the tall Californio readying the wagon for travel, and a painful surge gripped her heart. An opportunity lost due to her own foolish expectations, perhaps? Had she been wrong to expect what any other well-bred woman would have demanded after a night of passion?
For the hundredth time since she'd spoken of marriage with Alex, Glee kicked herself for having any expectations at all. She didn't know much about Alex, she realized, though they'd talked about a variety of things during the long hours of travel. He wasn't married. He had a young son. He had a prosperous rancho between Sacramento and Monterey. He was well-read, well-spoken, and had great charm and charisma—when he wasn't being a stubborn, frustrating, rock of silence.
And she was pining for his attention, with all the cow-eyed, brainless, female heart and soul of her. "Ahmak," she muttered to herself. Nitwit. What could a man like Alex Pacheco see in Glee Elizabeth Montrose anyway?
She was dowdy, over-educated, and woefully ill-bred, when compared to normal women her age. Why, he must have dozens of eager mamas trying to place their daughters under his oh-so-aristocratic nose! To have thought for even one moment that she would be qualified to be Alex's wife, Glee must have been temporarily insane! It didn't matter that he'd told her she was beautiful. Men always said that to women they bedded, didn't they? It didn't matter that he'd held her close to his heart and whispered sweet words of tenderness in her ears afterward. Surely, that was just part of the game as well.
Unfortunately, it was a game Glee had fallen for all too easily. Although she'd have liked to place all of the blame on Alex's doorstep, Glee's rational mind wouldn't quite let her. After all, he'd undoubtedly been expecting something altogether different when he began his seduction of her. She was alone, brazenly taking charge when and where she could, trekking across the vast United States with a hodge-podge collection of servants and books. What a fool she'd been not to see the kind of expectations Alex would have with that kind of l
oose behavior!
So, now what? What did she really want from the man?
That was easy enough to answer, she thought: more. More tenderness, more whispered love-words, more shared laughter and smiles, more of everything!
Very well then. How to get it? Perhaps patiently waiting was the answer. Patience wasn't her strong suit, after all, and maybe she'd just taken things faster than was appropriate. Or... she could try to seduce him to her way of thinking. Certainly, she'd seen some remarkable attempts at seduction while she'd been in the harem. Those women would go to whatever lengths it would take to get the Sultan's attention. How hard could it be?
That thought brought a derisive snort.
Well, Glee determined, let it not be said that a Montrose is a quitter. I want Alex Pacheco, so, I'm going to do what it takes to get him.
* * * *
The dazzling smile Glee bestowed upon Alex as she demurely stepped up onto the wagon seat, gave him pause. It occurred to him that she might be up to something unpleasant, but he couldn't see what, so he gave her a lukewarm grin back and climbed up next to her.
It was perhaps another week to Sacramento from where they'd holed up. Somehow, Alex was sure he'd find out what Miss Montrose was up to soon enough.
28 - December 10, 1852
T hough it hadn't snowed through their first day back on the trail, that evening it was colder than anything Glee had ever experienced. The fire they made at camp helped, but Glee's teeth still chattered as she prepared their supper. "D-d-d-do you kn-n-now where we are, Al-l-lex?" she asked conversationally as she handed him his plate.
"Still on the east side of the Sierras, chica." He returned her pleasant smile somewhat warily.
It was important that she keep him engaged, Glee knew, but she was beginning to feel like a chatterbox. All day long she'd kept the conversation going, trying to learn tidbits about Alex and tell him things about her. Just trying to keep his attention while they clambered willy-nilly over snow-covered rocks, rolled dangerously down into shallow snow-filled gullies, and made frequent stops in order to help the horses and wagon through particularly difficult terrain, had been quite a feat.
Now it was coming on to nightfall, and there would be no choice but to share the bed of the wagon. Glee felt her skin warm at the thought of what that could mean. But it was wise, she realized, not to get her hopes up. After all, she'd never seduced a man before. It might not work. Worse, it might not mean anything to him even if it did work. She refused to allow her thoughts to go down that path.
She moved closer to him, pressing her hip against him on the downed log they shared. Step one: accomplished. She ate her unpalatable food quickly and put the plate aside. Casually, as though it was perfectly natural, she put her hand on his thigh. He tensed, but didn't brush her away. Step two: accomplished. He put his plate down. "I'm tired. Aren't you?" she asked, looking up at him and batting her eyelashes.
Alex burst out laughing.
She stood up immediately, frowning mightily. "What's so funny?"
He wiped laugh-tears from the corners of his eyes. "You, pequeña tigresa." He stood and caught her elbow, drawing her closer. "I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt your feelings."
"Hmph."
"Glee," he said seriously. "You are playing a game you don't understand. You will get hurt."
She looked up at him as desire, need, and fear warred in her heart.
"Ah, niña." He took her into his arms and kissed her softly, then more deeply as he felt her eager little tongue on his lips.
It was wrong. He knew it. To allow her to give herself again was to encourage her dreams. But his body and his heart could find no agreement with his mind and will. For days he'd been remembering her sweet touch. Every word she'd spoken as she chattered reminded him of her voice thick with passion.
He picked her up and took her to the wagon then crawled in after her.
The wagon springs creaked rhythmically, just a short time later.
* * * *
The next day they were more comfortable with each other. Glee didn't find the need to chatter incessantly, and Alex was more conversational, even funny. That night was filled with sultry touches and hot looks, in spite of the snow outside.
It continued for four more glorious nights before they rolled into Sacramento.
Glee felt vibrant, even though she was dirty down to her bones. She wasn't even too self conscious of her tangled hair, now exposed for all the world to see. She was in love with Alex. The rest of the world could go to the devil.
Sacramento was a cow town, the central road wide and rutted. Several streets led off that road, where there was a mixed assortment of houses. There was a decent-looking hotel off the main thoroughfare, and that was where Alex drove them.
Before they stepped from the wagon, Alex took Glee's hand and kissed her palm. "Chica, this is a central town. I do business here, and perhaps your rancho will also. It is wise, I think, that I get you a room separate from mine."
She frowned. Things had been going so well! "I've never been much on conventionality, Alex. Are you suggesting this for me or for you?"
He looked down at their locked hands. "For you, Glee. No man would be anything but envied to be seen with a woman like you."
That took her slightly aback. She blushed. "Thank you," she said softly. "We haven't many days left together, have we?"
He shook his head. "No, querida. One day to my rancho, another to yours."
She bit her lower lip. So little time! "Just one room, Alex."
His smile was somewhat sad. "My little tiger… I will love you well."
She was blushing still as they walked into the hotel lobby. Alex signed them in quickly; he was well known to the clerk. Moments later, they were in a well-furnished suite. Navy curtains with white fleur-de-lis hung from the canopy of a big four-poster bed. Two chintz chairs stood by a small table. A large, magenta Aubusson carpet with a floral border covered half the floor. The room had a second-floor view of the main street below. Glee put her small satchel of things down and flounced on the bed. Luxurious!
"I ordered bathing water, Glee. It will be here momentarily."
"You," she said expansively. "Are just too good to me!"
He snorted and sat on a chair to remove his boots. "Save your kind words for after I get these socks off."
She giggled and rolled over the bed, so happy to be off the trail.
The water arrived and Glee was allowed to go first. She blushed and turned her back to Alex as she stripped, then realized how detrimental that was to her "plan." She faced him as she pulled off her chemisette and pantalets.
His dark eyebrows arched. "You are becoming a loose woman, Glee Montrose," he teased as he reached for her.
She danced away with a smile, then sank down into the warm bath water with a sigh. Even the soap felt lavish, as she smoothed the bubbly stuff all over her face and hair. Alex was watching her from the chair. She smiled at him sensuously as she applied creamy bubbles over her arms and breasts.
"There is not room in that tub for us both, mi corazón," Alex reminded her.
"Wouldn't it be nice if there was?" she asked as she washed her long legs and shapely feet. "Just think of all the things we could do." She smiled, a devilish twinkle in her eyes.
He chuckled. "I am thinking." She stood and turned to get out of the tub and he swatted her bottom. "You, woman, are shameless!"
Frowning playfully, she splashed water at him. He grabbed her slippery waist and tickled her, but she splashed him more. She giggled and slid out of his grasp, then ran around to the other side of the tub.
"If you are going to wet me, then I should be as bare as you, no?" He threw his clothes aside as quickly as he could remove them, then stalked her around the tub.
She splashed and, laughing, ran lightly away. It only took two of Alex's long strides to catch up with her. He whisked her up into his arms and splooshed them both into the lukewarm bath.
"Oh, dear. Look at the wet
mess you've made!"
He laughed. "And who is the little nymph who caused it?"
She squirmed around on his lap until she was straddling him in the crowded tub. "Far be it for me to leave a mess behind," she announced officiously. She took the wash rag and began cleaning off Alex's broad chest and arms.
"Clean here," he suggested, pushing her soapy hand down into his lap.
She gasped, her cheeks hot. "Alex! You rogue!"
"You caused it; you clean it." His voice was husky.
She watched his eyes as she soaped him, and was delighted when he moaned softly and closed them. But soon enough he took her hand away and opened his eyes again. "Not here in the tub, sweetheart."
They moved to the bed together. His kisses were everywhere, hot, demanding, nearly desperate. He held her in his arms and rolled on to his back. "Straddle me."
Under Wraps Page 26
