Wildstar

by Linda Ladd

  Michael tried to keep his disbelief out of his voice.

  “There's just got to be some mistake, Logan. You've seen Elizabeth. She couldn't have grown up with savages. She's a lady.” He gave a short laugh at the preposterous idea. “Perhaps Elizabeth just resembles this girl you knew.”

  He stopped at Logan's mocking laugh, but the sound died abruptly as Logan spoke seriously. “Do you honestly think, Father, that I could ever forget a woman like Elizabeth, even if I'd seen her but one time?”

  Michael thought of Elizabeth's exquisitely formed face and knew it would be impossible for any man to forget her.

  “I'm just finding this a bit difficult to believe.”

  “So am I. Especially the fact that she doesn't recognize me.”

  Michael steepled his fingers and looked over them at Logan.

  “I told you about her memory loss. But even if all this is true, why didn't Thomas tell me about it?”

  “I don't have the slightest idea,” Logan said, sinking into a chair where he could see the steps. “And I'm not sure I care, as long as I have her back. I've gone through hell on earth looking for her.”

  “But she doesn't remember you.”

  “She's my wife, now,” Logan said flatly.

  “Still, you're a stranger to her, and she'll need time to get to know you.”

  Logan's eyes grew dark. “She acts as if she hates me.”

  “Well, grabbing her and kissing her as you did this afternoon didn't help any. If your story is true, I can at least understand your motives. But since I told her she'd have until the wedding ball to get to know you, you'll have time to work things out.”

  Logan's voice was low. “I don't intend to wait. If anything will bring back her memory, a night in my bed will.”

  “But Logan, I promised her...” Michael's voice died away under steady blue eyes, and he finished lamely, “I can't help but think you're making a mistake trying to force her to remember you.”

  Logan shrugged and took the steps two at a time, unwilling to wait any longer.

  Upstairs, Elizabeth sat in a rocking chair by the fireplace, her small fingers clenched hard on the carved arms. She turned her head and stared dispassionately at her reflection in the mirror upon her dresser. Amanda had arranged her hair in an upswept mass of shining curls, then threaded it with dark blue ribbons to match the cording on her pale blue gown. But Elizabeth did not care how she looked. All she knew was that she didn't want to go downstairs.

  But if she didn't, she had no doubt that Logan Cord would carry her down, whether she liked it or not. The idea incensed her, and she limped to her dressing table, where she picked up a lace shawl. She would not give him the opportunity to touch her again, and if he expected her to sleep with him, he would be very disappointed. She had already refused to let Rachel move her things into his bedroom.

  She whirled as Logan opened the door without knocking, and was overwhelmed by his size alone as he came toward her. He'd shaved and dressed for dinner, and Elizabeth reluctantly admitted that he was a very handsome man in his dark green coat and buff-colored waistcoat. The well-tailored clothing emphasized his immense shoulders, and his legs looked very long and muscular in his snug-fitting breeches. She watched him cautiously, but he only smiled at her, his eyes dropping to her lips. His absorption with her mouth disconcerted her, and she turned away.

  “Is your foot painful?”

  She glanced up, then away as his eyes scorched a hole into her face. She hated the way he made her feel, like some prize animal he'd bought. Resentment roiled and rose, and her words were clipped.

  “It is much better, thank you.”

  She raised her slim nose and swept past him with as much dignity as she could muster with a pronounced limp. Logan laughed, and the next thing she knew she again rode securely in the steel cradle of his arms. Pride kept her from protesting, but an angry retort burned on her lips, as Logan strode down the hall, the fragrance of her hair conjuring intimate memories that heated his blood.

  Elizabeth continued to fume silently as Logan walked past Michael. Lily stood quietly waiting beside the dining table, where tall silver candelabra glittered over delicate crystal and the finest of English china. Logan put her down, and to her chagrin, did not move away, but stood behind her, his eyes upon the satiny mounds swelling above the blue-corded silk. She leaned forward, intentionally blocking his view, and Logan moved reluctantly to his chair.

  Maria had prepared a sumptuous feast for Logan's return, but he was too engrossed in the pleasure of having Starfire beside him to pay much attention to the excellent fare, and his constant warm regard put an end to any appetite Elizabeth might have had. Michael made several valiant attempts to relieve the tension, but more often than not, his remarks were met by complete silence, or at best, desultory replies. As Maria served a cobbler, Michael decided to broach the subject of the wedding ball, hoping to draw Logan's fascinated eyes off his wife, if only for a moment.

  “The invitations to the ball went out several weeks ago, Logan. I've invited a great many people from Central City as well as Denver. Lily was good enough to help me with the guest list.” He smiled at her, and she lowered her eyes. “I'm hoping the gathering will give Elizabeth a chance to make some acquaintances out here.”

  Logan frowned. The idea of Denver society descending on Woodstone just when he'd found Starfire again definitely did not appeal to him, but if the plans had already been made, there was little he could do about it.

  “Is everything in readiness?” he asked without really caring.

  “I'm hoping Lily will help me with the preparations,” Michael said, looking at Lily for her reaction.

  “I will be more than glad to be of service to you, Mr. Cord,” Lily murmured.

  “Call me Michael, please.”

  Logan had lost interest in their conversation already, his eyes on Elizabeth as she picked uninterestedly at her dessert. It had been only months ago that he'd taught her the use of a knife and fork, he thought, remembering that delightful morning when he had feasted his eyes on her half-nakedness at the dining-room table. Now her manners were beyond reproach, and he wondered how she'd become so accomplished in so short a time.

  To Elizabeth's heartfelt relief, the meal finally ended, and she stood, determined to keep Logan Cord away from her.

  “Michael, may I lean on your arm, please?” she asked, triumphant at Logan's frown.

  Michael glanced at his son, thinking Elizabeth didn't seem to be overly impressed with him, although he couldn't fault Logan's manners during the meal. He offered Elizabeth his arm, and Logan followed with Lily to the other end of the great room.

  Michael lit his pipe and opened a book, pausing now and and again to admire Lily, where she sat quietly near the undulating fire. Logan stood, one elbow resting on the mantel, and Elizabeth felt she'd scream if he did not stop looking at her. His bad manners were astonishing, and his blue eyes continued to rattle her composure. It enraged her to think that she was legally bound to this stranger, that he had the power to disrupt her life, to trap her into a loveless marriage with him. Why would he want a wife who did not love him? She fumed. And now he watched her, his blue eyes seeming to strip away her clothes. She took up the sampler she'd begun for her grandfather, so she wouldn't have to look at him, and Logan marveled, amazed she'd even attempt needlework.

  He moved to stand behind her chair, hiding a grin at the uneven row of stitches slanting across the fabric. It gave him a perverse pleasure that Starfire had not mastered everything. Elizabeth jabbed the needle in and out of the fine linen, piqued by his proximity. He unnerved her completely, and she could not concentrate with him so close. When his warm hand settled unexpectedly upon her bare shoulder, she jumped, stabbing the sharp needle into her finger. She cried out, dropping the hoop, and Logan immediately had her hand in his, examining the wound. He raised his eyes to hers, then placed the fingertip between his warm lips.

  A jolt ran up Elizabeth's arm, tingling her
flesh, and she stared into his eyes as indescribable longings flickered alive deep inside her. Her lips parted, and she jerked her hand away, frightened by her own response.

  “Logan?”

  Zack's voice was hesitant, and Elizabeth breathed easier as Logan turned toward the boy. “I'm really sorry to bother you, sir, but I'm leaving early in the morning to round up a few strays, and I need to talk to you.”

  Logan hesitated, looking down at Elizabeth.

  “I'll be there in a minute, Zack,” he said, then turned to Elizabeth. “I'll be back shortly to carry you to bed.”

  Elizabeth averted her face, thinking he'd never get the chance. She meant to spend the night safely behind a bolted door, regardless of what he wanted. She barely gave him time to leave the room before she stood.

  “I'm really very tired. I believe I'll go on up.”

  “Can I help you, dear?” Michael offered at once, but Elizabeth shook her head.

  She climbed the steps as fast as she could. Her ankle was throbbing by the time she reached her own room, but she smiled as she slid the bolt firmly into place. She undressed quickly without ringing for Amanda, donning a thin gown and robe. She looked down at the sheer fabric with its delicate lace, wishing for a less revealing gown than those furnished for her trousseau.

  But the door was safely locked, and she was certain that Logan Cord would not be so crude as to force himself upon her. Or would he? She found herself pacing the floor, each step worsening the pain in her foot. She froze, her hands clutching each other, as a low knock sounded at the door. She looked around in desperation, thinking she would pretend to be asleep.

  “Let me in, Elizabeth.”

  There was no mistaking who stood outside, and by the tone of his voice, he meant to gain entrance one way or another.

  It rankled her to the core to have to let him in, but she would not cause a scene for everyone in the house to hear. She slid back the bolt, then quickly moved away.

  Logan stepped inside, having removed his coat for the comfort of shirt and breeches. He closed the door and leaned against it, but Elizabeth did not give him time to speak.

  “Why do you deny me an annulment?” she said angrily. “Surely you cannot want a marriage without love!”

  The irony of the situation was not lost upon Logan, as she used the very argument he'd planned to use himself.

  He stared at her, realizing that the woman standing before him with angry violet eyes was not the Cheyenne maiden who'd won his heart. She was a completely different person now. He would have to get to know her all over again, but perhaps if he tried, he could bring Starfire back. Elizabeth or Starfire, he wanted her, he needed her, and he'd never let her go.

  “Do you think it's impossible that I could love you?” he asked, his eyes running over her lightly draped figure.

  Elizabeth answered coldly, “I think it's possible that you desire me, but that has little to do with love.”

  Logan smiled. “If you only knew, my sweet.” He paused, then said softly, “If I told you that I love you more than life itself, would you believe me?”

  Her answer was a contemptuous toss of her head.

  “Can you deny then,” she challenged coldly, “that more than anything else, you want to take me into your bed this night? Even though Michael promised me you would wait.”

  It was one thing Logan could not deny, and his voice was steady.

  “No, I can't. You are my wife, and I want you.”

  “Then that is very unfortunate, because I love another. And after I am granted an annulment, I will marry him.”

  Logan's face went rigid, his voice under steely control. “And whom, if I may ask, are you in love with?”

  Elizabeth watched him approach her, tremors racing across her flesh as she remembered stories of his violent temper. He waited, and Elizabeth swallowed hard, thinking he could be very dangerous.

  “Brent Hollo—”

  She got no further, because he had her in his grip, his fingers biting cruelly into her arms. She gasped, for the first time truly afraid of him. He stared down at her, his eyes so dark with anger and anguish they no longer looked blue, then he released her abruptly, one angry swipe of his arm clearing the top of her dressing table, sending her crystal bottles of perfume and oils tinkling and shattering against the wall.

  Elizabeth sank down upon the bed, shaking uncontrollably as Logan moved across the room with long, angry footsteps. She hugged herself, terrified, as he braced both arms against the mantel and stared into the fire. The soft crackling of the logs was the only sound until he gained control and turned to her, the firelight making glittering sapphires of eyes. His voice was deceptively calm.

  “Regardless of whom you think you love, I am your legal husband.”

  Their eyes locked, and Elizabeth could not breathe as he continued, “But I'm willing to give you time to get to know me, if that's what you want.”

  Relief washed over Elizabeth like a cool wind.

  “But only until the ball. If you have not come to me by then, I will come to you.”

  “You will force me?” Elizabeth managed to ask.

  “If need be.” His quiet admission astounded her, and she stared at him, realizing he meant it.

  “And in the meantime, you will deny me nothing else that I ask of you.”

  Elizabeth considered it, but afraid of his reaction if she refused, she nodded slightly.

  Logan's grim face relaxed somewhat, and she watched him move to the rocker by the fire and sit down.

  “Then right now, more than anything else, I wish the pleasure of holding you in my arms.”

  He waited, but Elizabeth didn't move. Then afraid his temper was about to erupt again, Elizabeth moved slowly to stand in front of him. His azure eyes held hers relentlessly.

  “Put your arms around my neck.”

  His voice was hoarse, but brooked no refusal, and she hesitantly obeyed. She gasped as his arms came around her, one swift movement turning her until she lay across his lap. Her gown caught around her hips, exposing satiny thighs, and her hair fell in a silken cascade over his forearm. Her heart began a wild and fearful cadence as he slid long fingers beneath the soft silver and knotted a handful at her nape. His lips went like a heated brand to the side of her throat.

  “No! You promised...”

  He groaned and slid his open palm along her warm thigh, and she struggled to escape. An unintelligible protest came deep from within his throat, and Logan held her in a gentle band of steel, his words muffled against her hair.

  “Just let me hold you for a time, then I'll leave.” Elizabeth did not relax as he pillowed her head against his shoulder. They sat quietly, Elizabeth tense and wary as he cradled her, and it took a long while for her pulse to calm. When it beat normally again, she hazarded a glance at him from beneath the dark veil of her lashes.

  He stared into the fire, his face like carved marble, but he made no further move against her. After a time, Elizabeth's muscles gradually lost their rigidity, and her slender body softened against his hard chest. Her ear lay upon the fine fabric of his shirt, and the steady thud of his heart lulled her mind and calmed her ragged nerves. The day had been very long for her, filled with anger and stress, and she found to her surprise that lying so intimately against Logan Cord was not so terrifying as she'd imagined. His arms held her warm and secure, and as the fire began to die away, her tiredness took its toll.

  She drowsed in a lovely netherland closer to dreams than to reality, and the way his palm gently stroked her hair was almost pleasant. She was only vaguely aware of the soft kisses he pressed with utmost tenderness upon her brow and she snuggled closer against the molded contours of his chest as misty strands of sleep entwined over her mind, wrapping over and around until she sank into dark blue peace.

  Logan sat holding her close long after she slept, never having experienced such exquisite, bittersweet torture as having his beloved Starfire in his arms at long last, and being unable to possess her.<
br />
  Fifteen

  Elizabeth awoke, and reassured by the familiar white lace canopy above her, she snuggled deeper into the downy softness of her satin comforter. It had been almost a week since Logan Cord had come to Woodstone, and each night he'd held her in the rocker by the fire until she slept. But every morning, true to his word, she'd find herself alone in her own bed.

  She sleepily pondered the stranger who was her husband, a perplexed frown marring her brow. He was so hard to understand. He'd made her so angry that first day, but since then, he'd behaved like a perfect gentleman, courteous to her in every way. Only that first night, when she'd mentioned Brent, had his terrible anger showed itself. Now when he held her at bedtime, his gentleness was infinite.

  She closed her eyes, and hazy recollections of his mouth upon her neck brought an inexplicable thrill of pleasure. Logan Cord's touch sent ripples across her flesh and strange stirring deep inside her body. She thought of the way his blond hair looked moving lingeringly across her breasts, the soft texture of his hair between her fingers.

  Suddenly she sat bolt upright. But he'd never done such things to her! She'd never run her fingers through his hair! It was so strange and confusing that she frowned deeply, until a soft tapping brought her attention to the door. Although Logan had made no demands upon her, he entered her chambers as he would, regardless of her dishabille, and Elizabeth had not dared to lock her door against him a second time.

  Amanda's freckled face peeked around the door, and Elizabeth smiled and lifted her long hair in a luxurious stretch. Amanda carried the tray to the bedside table, glad to see her young mistress did not yet share the blond giant's bed, despite the fact that Rachel laughed at her fears concerning him. She propped a pillow behind Elizabeth and handed her a cup and saucer.

  “How nice of Lily. I love chocolate,” Elizabeth murmured, savoring the sweet-tasting beverage.

  “It wasn't Miss Lily who sent it up. It was Master Logan. He sent Zack all the way to Central City for a supply of it.”