noise, just the incessant chirp of crickets and an occasional bray of cattle.
Home.
Turning to Chris's room and the wide open window, she took two steps and stilled. She could see the magnificent four poster bed for the lamp was lit beside the fairy tale creation. And it was empty. She moved closer, slipping around the edge of the balcony door and further inside.
Empty.
In a panic, she thought he'd gone to town or after her, but she knew no horses were missing from the barn.
Where the hell was he?
Past caring about making noise, she marched through the house, the robe opening and revealing bare muscled legs. She thumped down the stairs and Abigale's door opened, then Ran-del's, but she didn't see it. From either end of the lower hall Abigale and Randel exchanged a nod. Abigale clasped her hands in a hopeful gesture and Randel sent her calming look, shooing her back to bed. Both slipped into their rooms.
Victoria was frantic. The house was large and rambling but she couldn't find him. He'd vanished, and unless he'd taken his bow and set off to get in tune with nature, he had to be here. He was avoiding her, she realized freezing in the foyer. Hiding? Nah. Not Chris. But just the same she was scared.
She turned and caught her reflection in the hall mirror and scarcely recognized herself. Her skin was vibrant and flushed, her hair lighter around her forehead from the sun, but something was different—very different. And she moved closer. Quickly she struck a match to the candle on the narrow table pressed to the wall, me flame highlighting her with a ghostly image in the glass. She peered inspecting her face, her throat, even brushing open the robe a bit to see the curves of her breasts. Between them lay the necklace Chris had given her. She'd never taken it off.
And inside the recess of her logical, very analytical mind, she belonged with it. Her gaze flicked to her face, gaze for gaze meeting in the glass.
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Her eyes were clear and gold. No longer haunted with sadness.
She smiled and they seem to glow with an inner fire. Is this what he sees?
Taking the candle sconce, she moved through the house, still searching for him, whispering his name. Padding down the hall leading east, she frowned. It was a part of the house she hadn't investigated, assuming it simply led to an exit. She advanced slowly. Slivers of gray light passed through slats in a pair of tall doors, like silver bars on the floor, a wider wedge of light bouncing off the opposite wall from the half open doors.
It beckoned her, the rich scent of flowers filling her senses and she extinguished the candle, setting it on the floor as she approached.
She slipped passed and froze, her gaze quickly taking in the night faded colors of flowers and scrubs encased by high stone walls. A spreading tree grew like a giant in the far left corner. The soft trickle of water broke the silence. It was like another place, so set apart from the dusty ranch. Moonlight gleamed white off a small stone path and she stepped, cool slate beneath her feet.
She squinted, searching the perimeter.
Then she saw him. Tears immediately filled her eyes, his heartache reaching out to squeeze the breath from her lungs. / did this. He was sitting lengthwise on a stone bench, his back braced on the wall, one long leg over the edge, the other bent and bracing his arm. He stared down at something in his hands, looking desolate. The moonlight dipped and waved over his shiny dark hair, cast his bare chest in shadows and she could see that the top button of his trousers were open against his washboard stomach. It made her insides lurch, t
And as if he sensed her presence, his head jerked up.
"Tori?" Stunned and wondering, the sight of her kept him rooted to the bench. He tossed the flower aside.
She wiped at her wet cheeks with the back of her hand, almost angrily and took a step, coming into the full glow of moonlight.
'I, ah, I—Oh God, Chris," a soft wail, needy, pleading and Chris felt as if someone just scooped a chunk out of his heart.
She took a hesitant step.
He slid half off the bench, one knee on the stone tablet, a bare foot sinking into the soft ground. But she stood there, looking like heaven and clutching the folds of her robe.
"I know you're angry with me—"
"No, I'm not."
"But—"
"I'm not. I should never have pressured you like that. It was selfish. I can't expect you to give up your entire world. I can't make you choose. I won't."
He thought he saw her nod and felt his chest bite like a mighty vise around his heart. So. She's come to end it now, he thought.
"I went to the ... doorway."
"I know." He stepped away from the bench, then stilled, closing his fists in effort not to take her into his arms. "I thought you had left me."
Wildly, she shook her head, her hand out as if to touch him across the distance. He heard her breath catch in her throat as she tried to force out the words, words he knew would destroy him.
"Can you forgive me for hurting you?"
"Yes," came without pause and the hammering in his blood intensified. Hope surged unexpectedly and he swallowed, a gravelly lump jamming in his throat. "What are you saying?"
Her lips trembled, her voice scarcely a whisper. "I love you."
Chris thought he'd never breathe again. Then he did.
"I love you and I can't go back. I won't. I don't care if Becket pays here or there, and if you don't say something I'm going to—to—"
"Punch me?"
She shrugged uneasily. "It's a start."
"I love you," he said with every cell of emotion tangling inside him. "Come to me, so I can show you." The words
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were snapped off as she slammed against him, nearly knocking him off his feet. His arms instantly enveloped her, crushing her to his long length and they sank to their knees on the ground.
"I love you so much," she whispered into his ear and Chris felt the sky open and shower them with warmth. She plowed her fingers into his hair, making him look at her. "So much it hurts sometimes."
"I know." His throat worked. "Me too."
"I need you, Chris. I would die in my century and I'd rather live in yours, with you."
His hands slid over her spine, rough and seeking and she held his face in her hands, devouring his mouth until he couldn't stand it another moment.
"Oh Jesus, Tori," he gasped. With both hands he smoothed her hair from her face, searching her eyes. "What about Becket?"
Uncertainty skittered across her face. "You're the law here. He's your problem."
"But you've worked so hard, waited all this time."
"I won't risk taking him back, Chris." A determined glint flickered in her gold eyes. "I won't. I'll lose too much."
His tone turned desperate. "I don't want you to regret this."
"Never." She gripped his arms. "I was scared," she confessed softly. "Hell, I'm still scared. But not enough to risk going through the window for him. Not if it costs me you."
"Maybe we could—"
She covered his lips with her fingers. "It's too unstable. I
could see it even in the dark. What if I were caught on the
other side?" *
"God wouldn'tbe that cruel." He opened his mouth, sipping at her fingertip.
Her voice was thready as his tongue rasped over her skin. "We'll think of something." In the dark he kissed her palm, her wrist, urging her arm around his neck. "I know I'm a bit slow on the uptake—" he opened her robe and the tight tips
of her breast grazed his chest as she breathed. "But—" she swallowed "—what we have here is too priceless."
"You don't have to convince me." His hands skated up her body from her naked knees to her ribs. "Lucky thing, huh?"
His thumbs brushed across the lush cushion of her breast, eliciting a ragged almost soundless gasp.
"You scared the life out of me." Regret in her eyes. "I'm sorry." "I'm still not over it."
"What can I do to help you see things my way?" "You're a damned stubborn woman, Victoria." He tried to sound irritated and failed, coming more like a compliment. "Well . . . yes."
"And so ferociously determined." His thumbs moved back and forth, avoiding her nipples and he glanced down to watch them pearl and bud for him. "With great legs." "So you keep saying,"
Slowly he dipped his head. "And lovely plump breasts." "Oh God, Chris that feels so good," she groaned when he closed his lips around her nipple.
"And deliciously vocal," he said, taking the other in the same slow laving fashion.
"You like vocal?" She watched him taste her. ' 'Um-hmm.'' He had her in his mouth, then he opened wider, taking more of her. "Oh, Chris."
His lips curved as he dampened a trail to her mouth, holding her with the restraint of a man driven to madness and brushed the robe off her shoulders, dragging it from her arms and baring her in moonlight. Then he stood and peeled his pants down over his hips, loving that she watched every part of him revealed. "God? you are so beautiful," she said, her hand gliding up the back of his thighs, finding sensitive spots and caressing him. He knelt close and let his gaze move over her, the silver light gliding off her breasts and thighs. He reached, closing his hands over them, darkness shutting out the light and moving
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in slow circles across her soft skin. Her head tilted back and she moaned with pleasure.
"I love you."
She looked into his dark eyes shadowed by the night. "I've always known that, I think."
"It scared you." A statement, even as his arm slipped around her waist to pull her flush to his naked body. The contact made her gasp. He was like a smoldering fire.
"I've never been loved like this, Chris."
"And you never will again."
Tears threatened as she smiled and felt the lines of his face, brushed at the shaggy locks of black hair at his temples. This man was everything to her. This man had given her all she'd missed and lost, tenderness, love, respect and a family to love again. And when his mouth covered hers she felt a tinge of uncertainty and sought to ease it.
"I'm not leaving, ever. I love you. I love Swift Arrow and the marshal and I'm in love with you."
Emotions strangled in his throat. "Oh God, Tori. I feel like I've been waiting all my life for this moment." He kissed her softly, whispering against the curve of her mouth, "And I want to savor it."
He kissed her softly, trembling, almost frightened the moment would shatter, then it grew stronger deeper and she gripped his shoulders, his kiss driving her back over his arm. With strength and tenderness born in love, he lowered her to the ground, the crush of sweet cool grass draping them in fragrance.
Chris reached beyond her and plucked a flower, dragging it over her cheek, the seam of her lips and she closed her eyes trustingly as he let the soft velvet petals tease her skin. He swirled it over her nipple and her lips parted in a soft sigh, across her tight stomach and her muscles flexed, then up her long thigh to the dark tuft glistening with moisture and she opened like the bloom, turning to him, touching him.
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Her hands offered pleasure, smoothing lightly over his muscled chest, the bend of his hip, stroking him again from sleek spine to corded thigh.
"I love touching you," she whispered. "To feel this kind of power and know you are the gentlest man I've ever met."
Chris smiled and gathered her into his arms, adoring that she wrapped him in her body, shielding him when he wanted to shield her. Then she kissed him, a slow thick kiss, outlining his lips with her tongue, stroking his teeth, then sinking into his mouth with a possession he reveled in. Victoria was his, in every way. He could feel it in her as if he shared her thoughts, her breath, so infinitely warm and giving, felt it in her touch, a gentle glide across his skin, all of his skin.
Gone, this night, was the frantic rush of desire, the heated passion that rent them open with explosive power. In its place was tenderness, patience and neverending love. He led, she followed, in touch and taste of their bodies, saying more in this moment than they could in words.
She loved him with her soul. She'd opened it countless times to him, but this time she let him walk inside. And as he slid over her, she opened for him again, her soft touch guiding his warm hard flesh into the damp folds of her femininity.
He sank smoothly, deeply, and their sighs were of completeness, her body closing around him and holding him when he was most vulnerable. Chris gazed down at her, brushing her hair from her cheek as her arms slipped around his waist. For long moments they simply stared. A single tear formed at the corner of her eye, hovering on the edge and he kissed the spot, drinking it, drinking the essence of Victoria.
"We share the same heart, Cougar-Who-Walks-Like-A-Woman," he whisper into her ear. "Do you feel us beat as one?''
"Yes." And she did. His chest pressed snugly to her breasts, their heartbeats pounded in perfect sync. "And I never want to live without you."
He withdrew and her breath shuddered softly into the mois-
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ture of his mouth. His arousal was thicker, warmer inside her as he pushed into her tight sheath, his torso braced on his forearms, his hands spreading her dark golden hair over the ground. He left her and slid smoothly home. Eyes locked, he saw his loving in her eyes, heard it in the short breaths escaping her lips, felt it in her body grasping him back again and again. She chanted his name, in his native tongue, toid him she loved him, would always love him, even when she walked the spirit road. And Chris loved her more, for understanding him, for taking the time to learn, for giving it to him when he needed it most.
Then she offered him more of her, digging her heels into the earth, her hips undulating up to greet his long smooth thrusts. His gaze never left her, hers sinking into the fathomless eyes where legends were made, where native son and white man blended and formed into honor and gentle understanding and all that was good. Victoria didn't think she could love him more, but each moment that passed, each time he filled her, she felt her heart expand and explore all there was of him.
She never wanted it to end. She wanted more.
"Wrap around me," he whispered as their pace quickened. "Ahh, yes," he breathed when she did. "I love it when you do that." His words teased her lips, her arms holding him snugly.
"Chris—" she gasped. "Oh, Chris."
"I can feel your pleasure," he growled darkly. "Every muscle wrenching with me, around me." She whimpered against his mouth, her kiss hungry and wet. "Yes, that's it, yes," he coaxed. "Let me feel you drench me."
He thrust long and solid and they fused like bronze and gold, separate in touch, together in heart. Time ceased for them, stretching the moment with unearthly pleasure as they pushed and shuddered against and into each other.
His body throbbed helplessly inside her and she sheltered him, accepting him, trembling in his embrace as swell after raging swell surrounded them in a mist of exquisite pleasure.
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Midnight clouds shifted, spreading silver moonlight across them like a blanket of warmth, covering them. And within the fragrance and sounds of the darkness, they whispered forever love.
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Chapter Thirty-Four
Before dawn, Chris proposed and she accepted.
Before dawn, he carried her through the house to his bed and made love to her again until she was breathless and exhausted and sleeping in his arms.
And, at dawn, they were discovered slumbering peacefully, wearing nothing but silly smiles in their dreams.
Abigale and Randel exchanged a look, then focused on the sleeping couple.
"Is this what you envisioned?"
"With the racket that was coming from here last night, aye."
Randel's lips twitched and he stared down at the tray in his hands. "I suppose I should prepare for two."
"Aye." She looked at him, enjoying the laughter in his eyes,
"Aye, for two."
His gaze narrowed on her. "What have you in mind, Abigale?"
"To see them wed properly."
"Ahh, a compromising situation."
" Tis for the best, they'll see."
"We already do," came from the opposite side of the room.
The tray rattle in Randel's hands and Abigale looked bug-eyed at Chris.
Against his bare chest, Victoria stirred, her eyes still closed. "I love you," she whispered, the words loud in the still room.
Abigale smiled so hard tears came to her eyes.
Chris dropped a kiss to Victoria's forehead and told her he loved her. Randel cleared his throat, blushing down to his starched collar.
Victoria moaned dreamily, her hand sliding beneath the sheets and Chris flinched, then gently shook her awake.
Lazily, she opened her eyes and smiled. "Hey, Tonto."
"Good morning, love." He couldn't resist kissing her. "We have company."
She blinked, instantly alert.
He nodded to the doorway and she slowly turned her head. "Oh, shit." She sank beneath the covers, dragging it over her head. Chris chuckled softly and she punched him.
"This isn't funny, you rat."
"Nay, 'tis not." Abigale marched across the room, grabbing up Victoria's robe and holding it out. Chris nudged her and Victoria lowered the sheet, then took the robe, mumbling thanks and tossing him a why-didn't-you-wake-me-sooner look.
Abigale flicked a hand, and Randel came to her side. She tried desperately not to smile as she set the tray on Chris's lap with more force than necessary. Being horrified when she knew she had the couple cornered was much too much fun. Then she pulled a chair close and sat, hands folded, her expression grim. And, as if she wasn't about to converse with two naked people in her employer's bed, Randel the goat, slipped out.
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