“I know. But I couldn’t leave. The Rankins were camped not a hundred yards from here, and I was worried that if I left, they might…” she looked down at her hands.
“Hurt you,” Cole supplied. “They’re not nice men, and you made a wise choice staying right here.” He glanced around the small cavern. “Looks like we’ll be staying here tonight. I’d better get the saddles off our horses.”
“All right,” she said as she moved over to the trunk. “I didn’t unsaddle Gal because I might have needed to get away quickly. The poor thing has been standing there for five or six hours cinched tight.”
He nodded. “You did the right thing. I think your mare will understand.” He hunched over to get through the passage to the outside cavern.
“I’ll get out some food for you, and the blanket.”
“Your father gave me a bag of food—I’ll bring it in when I’m done with the horses.”
The horses stood content, waiting for him to tend them. As he settled about his chores, he marveled at Daisy’s calm demeanor. Not one woman in a million would have acted so unruffled. It seemed to him that she ought to be a lot more unsettled than she seemed, being trapped in a cave six miles from home by outlaws, then being forced to spend the night with a man who was anything but honorable.
If there was anything more frustrating than an honorable man, Daisy couldn’t think of what it might be.
She knew from her heart and soul that the marshal wanted her as much as she wanted him, yet his sense of honor and propriety kept him at a distance. Of course, she certainly admired these traits; nevertheless, they made her goal of landing him in front of a preacher that much harder.
So she would try that much harder. She splashed icy spring water on her face and dried off using her petticoat. From all the unspoken dire warnings about men losing control, she never dreamed it would be this difficult to lose her virtue. Ha! So far, the marshal had shown an iron will. Of course, it only made sense that a man of the law would be more honorable than others.
They’d have to eat off one plate, since that’s all she had. She filled it with a couple of pieces of jerky each, and several pieces of dried apricots and apples. It wasn’t the most romantic meal ever, but it would have to do. Then she fetched the comforter—an old, worn one that her mother had thrown out—shook it, and placed it on the cave floor.
When the marshal came back holding a small bag, he looked everywhere but in her eyes. “Here’s a few biscuits and some cheese I told you about.” He placed it by the plate on the blanket. “We should have plenty for supper—and breakfast, too.”
“You can wash up in the spring,” she said, handing him a bar of soap. “The water’s cold, but it’s clean.”
After he washed, she kneeled on the blanket and patted the space by her side. “Sit down, marshal.”
He paused, then sat cross-legged—several inches away. She picked up a piece of apricot and scooted closer to him. “Are you hungry?”
His gaze locked with hers. “Starving,” he growled in a voice so sensual, her toes curled.
She smiled. “Then let’s eat.” She placed the apricot in his mouth, dragging her finger across his lips as she withdrew. “Do you like it?”
“Mmmm.” He swallowed hard as if the food were caught in his throat. He sucked in a deep breath, his eyes dark, and, with his own forefinger, traced where hers had touched.
She felt all funny inside, anxious and wanting. After the previous night with him, she knew exactly what she wanted. “I’m hungry, too.” She waited, but when he didn’t move, she placed an apricot in his hand. “Feed me, marshal.”
“Aw, darlin’, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
Yes, she did. Her mind knew, her heart knew, and a warm ache deep inside her secret woman’s place knew. She nodded slightly. “Put it in my mouth, marshal. I want it.”
He placed the tidbit in her mouth, letting her suck on his callused fingers for a moment—fingers of a man who did hard work, not those of a man who sat behind a desk. She grasped his hand, studying it closely. What could he be doing to cause him to have the hard calluses of a working man? Oh, beans. She was being ridiculous. The marshal helped the townspeople all the time. Of course he’d have strong, rough hands.
He cleared his throat and moved away from her. “I think we, um, better feed ourselves.” But he didn’t eat. Neither did she.
The waves of tension echoed off the cave walls. But he was an honorable man, and made no move to kiss her. She wanted him to. Maybe she should kiss him to get him interested. Everywhere. He just didn’t seem to understand how much she desired him, but she’d already been more forward than she could justify. Her breasts ached for his touch, and her lips tingled in anticipation of his kiss.
Finally, she cleared away the remains of their meager meal. He must not want her, for if he wanted her half as much as she wanted him, he’d have laid her out on the blanket and had his way with her long before.
She sighed. “It’s late. I’m going to make the bed.” After she fetched the horse blankets and laid them side by side on the floor, she spread the comforter on top. “We only have one blanket, so you’ll have to sleep with me.” She tried to sound nonchalant, but her voice came out a bit strained.
“I’ll just lean up against the wall and get a little shut-eye.”
The rock walls were cold. Daisy knew that no matter how tough he thought he was, those rocks would chill his bones before an hour went by. And when he did, she knew just how to warm him up. “All right, then,” she blew out the lantern. “Goodnight.”
With a little luck it would be a good night. She lay down and pulled the comforter over her. The horse blanket was scratchy and smelly, but did provide some cushion from the rock floor of the cave. A pillow would have been nice, though.
She made no attempt to sleep—an unlikely possibility at best, with her body in tune with every restless movement of the marshal. His yawn reminded her of his warm breath on her breasts, his restlessness provoked her earnest need to comfort him.
Time went by. No matter how she laid, the rock floor didn’t get any warmer or softer, and still her yearning for him only intensified. She didn’t know how long she’d waited—all she knew is that she ached for him and by then, she couldn’t even remember why. The very thought of curling up by his side, his strong arms around her, protecting her, caressing her, wouldn’t let her rest. She turned on her side, then on her stomach. The outside of her was cold, but the inside was boiling hot.
She heard him get up and feel his way to the spring, then splashing water. He groaned softly.
Apparently, he wasn’t having any better luck resting than she had. “I’m so cold,” she said, reaching for the matches. She lit the lantern and found him staring at her, water dripping from his chin. “Are you all right?”
“No.” He wiped his face with his sleeve. “Yes.”
She stood, stepped over to him, and hugged him. “Warm me up.” She slipped her chilled hands under his pants waist. “Please.”
He sucked in a deep breath. She pressed her ear against his chest and heard his heart thump, her heart beating in rhythm. “Daisy, I want…” he grasped her face with both hands and lowered his lips to hers, “…you.”
She opened her mouth and let him in. His tongue brushed her lips, and found her own. Her knees went weak from the hot tremors ricocheting from her head to her toes. She held him tighter, lest she fall in a puddle before him.
He kissed her eyelids, her temple, her neck. She gasped when he brushed the undersides of her breasts with his thumbs. Every part of her was aware of every part of him. She desperately wanted him to kiss her breasts and suckle her nipples like he’d done the night before. She could feel them grow, and tingled with longing for him.
And she wanted him to feel the wondrous things she felt. She chewed her lower lip, planning her next move. A pang of conscience told her to stop, but everything else urged her on. Remembering how she felt when he’d touched her breasts
, she decided to try the same with him.
Slowly, she slid his shirt off his shoulders and ran her fingers through the sprinkling of dark hair on his chest, flicking his nipples as he had done to her. His sharp intake of air told her that he liked her touch as much as she liked his. She kissed his nipple, then laved it with her tongue.
He grabbed her shoulders and lowered her to the makeshift bed. “There’s more, Daisy.” He unbuttoned her dress—she pulled it off. She untied and unhooked her corset—he threw it in the corner. He untied her stocking, brushing his hand along her inner thigh. She pressed against him, wanting all of him.
“Patience, Daisy girl,” he murmured as he rolled the other stocking down her leg.
But she didn’t have an ounce of patience left in her. She’d been on fire since the first moment she laid eyes on him, and she couldn’t wait another second more. Hands trembling, she unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his britches. “I want to see you.” She tugged on his pants. “I want to touch you.” She pulled them down. “I want you to touch me.” She ran her tongue over her dry lips when she saw his manhood standing tall. “What do I do?”
He yanked off his boots and divested his britches practically in one movement. Then he embraced her, and she felt the insistent need of his hardened desire pressed against her belly, with naught but her shimmy between them. Almost involuntarily, she sank into his embrace, treasuring the warm, yet uneasy sensation whirling deep inside her very core.
The cool cave air prickled her skin, but his heated passion warmed her heart. She reveled in the touch of his hands massaging her back, then sliding over her sides to hold the weight of her breasts.
He lowered her to the blanket. “Your breasts are perfect,” he whispered as he kissed the top of her breast, “so perfect,” then kissed the underside, and all around—but never touching the aching tip. His day’s growth scratched slightly, only enough to make the tenderness of his lips that much more pleasurable.
His hand rested on her belly, creating such heat, she wished he could reach inside her. Then he slid his hand to the place where he’d brought her such ecstasy with his mouth, the ecstasy still echoing through her, the mindless pleasure that told her of delights to come, and yet another offering from his body to touch her soul.
He touched her on the little nubbin that had spread consuming pleasure when he came to her before, at the same time he sucked lightly on her nipple. She gasped at the intense wave of desire that washed from her breasts to her groin and back, seesawing through her body without mercy.
Just when she thought she couldn’t stand it another minute, he slipped his finger inside her. “Aw, Daisy, you’re so wet for me.”
She was quite embarrassed about her wetness—it had happened several nights when she had dreamed about his broad shoulders and midnight eyes. It had happened again last night, and she didn’t know what to do about it. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s the matter.”
“Nothing’s the matter.” He kissed her other breast, then sank two fingers in her, in and out so gently. She felt him shudder, increasing her desire even more. “Daisy, I’m not the man you think I am, but please don’t tell me to stop.”
She reached down and clasped his hardness in her hand, feeling the velvet as she slid down its length. He sucked in his breath. “Don’t touch me there right now, darlin’, I won’t be able to last another second.”
Ignoring his plea, she squeezed slightly a couple of times. “Don’t you like me to touch you?”
He groaned. “You have no idea how much I like you to touch me.” He stroked her nubbin harder and faster. Her breath quickened and she could think no more of anything but the pleasure. She moaned, but it sounded like a far-away animal. She couldn’t help it. Her hips moved as the pressure mounted, then he positioned himself over her.
His impassioned gaze captured hers. “Darlin’, I’m gonna take you now.” He kissed her lips. “Relax.” She felt his hardness against her. “Take me in, Daisy.” He pressed harder, slipping into her only a little, then pulling out. Then he pushed in farther and held still, she felt uncomfortably stretched, but still terribly wanting. She raised her hips, forcing him in even more.
He kissed her again. “You’re so tight and wonderful.” He pulled out and shoved into her a little harder, but still not all the way, and stopped. “This will hurt a little bit—only the first time,” he rasped.
She could hardly bear the waiting. Her heart raced and her hips pressed into him. He plunged into her, forcing a cry from deep in her throat. He kissed her eyelids. “There won’t be any more pain. It’ll feel good now.” He moved his hand between them, using his thumb to stroke the heated nubbin to a frenzy. “Let me know when you’re ready.”
Daisy couldn’t have uttered a word if her life depended on it, completely awash in sharing the rapture with him—loving him with all her heart. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him hard against her.
“Lord Above,” he whispered, kissing her. Then he withdrew and plunged into her, again and again. “Feel it, Daisy. Feel me inside you.”
With every thrust, the pressure mounted. She lost focus of anything but him, in and out. Suddenly, it seemed as if all earth shattered, stars and light flashed behind her eyes. She gasped for air, but moaned instead. Still he plunged into her, until a scream escaped from her throat, low and guttural. Then he buried himself deep inside, shooting his seed in her.
Her arms and legs went limp, her belly quivered. She could never have fathomed that being with a man could be like this. He kissed her softly. She gazed into his eyes, questioning. Had she done it right? Had he felt as good as she had? Such pleasure he’d brought her! She only hoped he felt the same way, because she never wanted it to end. She wanted to be with him every day of her life, loving him, he loving her. Nothing less would ever satisfy her.
Daisy awoke and smiled as she huddled closer to the marshal. He lay on his back, she, on her side, using his shoulder as a pillow. She breathed in the smell of him and smiled, joy welling in her heart. The ray of light squeaking through the small cavern opening told her the new day had come, and what a new day it was!
She raised herself onto one elbow and kissed his cheek. His soft, rhythmic snores continued uninterrupted. He looked so peaceful, she hated to wake him, but they had to get back to Oreana soon, before the entire town came out looking for them. She brushed the crinkly hair on his chest and kissed him again. “Marshal?”
Hugging her closer, he answered softly, “Hmmm?”
“It’s time to go back.” She gave him a little shake.
He jerked, then sat up so fast, he nearly tumbled her over backwards before he caught her. “Sorry.”
“It’s morning.” Actually, she didn’t have any idea what time it was, only that a tiny beam of daylight shined into the cave. “Or sometime tomorrow.”
He rubbed his chin, then ran his fingers through his hair. “We better get back. Your folks were worried sick.”
She wondered if he had any other reason to get back, such as announcing their engagement. Of course, he hadn’t proposed yet, but she was confident that he would ask her—maybe even now.
Slowly, he got to his feet and stretched his back. “Next time, find a cave with softer floors.”
She rolled her eyes. Patience, she told herself, then gazed at him expectantly. “Do you have anything to say to me?
“You tidy up in here while I saddle the horses.”
That was all? He had nothing more to say to her after the most fabulous night of her life? She yanked the comforter from the floor and snapped it, covering him in a cloud of dust. “Don’t forget to sweep out the horse manure.”
For the life of him, Cole couldn’t figure this woman out. Daisy hadn’t said a single word to him since they left the cave. Not one. In fact, she lit out of there like her horse’s butt was on fire. He’d followed her around the backside of the boulders, where she caught the cut-off trail back to town. Forrest and the dog had definitely taken the hard route
.
He glanced sideways at her. She rode stiff-shouldered, her chin in the air. He supposed he shouldn’t be too quick to judge—maybe she just wasn’t a morning person. “Better slow down. The horses will tire before we get home.”
She shot him a look that would have fried the hide off a coyote, then pulled her horse back to a walk. He guessed she wasn’t up for any conversation yet.
While he could round up stampeding cattle with the best of men, or hold his own with a gun against any rustler, he’d rather wrestle a six-foot rattler in his birthday suit than get himself in an argument with an irate woman, especially Daisy. Naw, he’d leave her alone for another mile or two. Damn, maybe if she had a cup of coffee she’d be more agreeable.
They rode for a while, each staring straight ahead. Well, he did sneak a look at her now and then, but it didn’t do him any good. They passed by a ranch house that he knew was about a mile from town, and he knew he’d better get said what he needed to say.
He didn’t know how he’d manage it—he had to keep her from knowing she was marrying a man who’d lied, and lived a lie. A man shot for bank robbery by her own sister. A man who, under false pretenses, let the town put him in a position of integrity, who let the people trust him.
But he couldn’t live dishonorably forever, and the first thing he was going to do was marry the fine lady he’d bedded. He could do no less. Then he’d take her away, to the Baker Valley, and together, they’d build a ranch. With a little luck, she’d never know what a grievous wrong he had done to her and her town.
He cleared his lungs with a deep breath. “Daisy?”
She showed no response.
“Daisy, we’re nearly back. We need to talk.”
She kept her gaze glued between the mare’s ears, her jaw set. “So talk.” Her voice was curt, but not exactly mean.
“We’ll get married—right away. I’ll tell your father.” He thought he saw a flicker of a smile, but then she frowned. Still, she didn’t look at him.
Much Ado About Marshals (Hearts of Owyhee) (2011) Page 18
