Tempting Bethany

by Stacy Reid

  The words were a brutal fist to Joshua's gut, and feelings he had no ideas for processing roared through him. He remained silent for it was a thought he'd had several times. That night she had submitted out of fear, and he had ridden her twice without any thoughts for her apparent innocence.

  “You didn’t rape her,” his father said flatly. “In my days I’ve been with my fair share of saloon girls. Before your ma. I didn’t believe any of them wanted to be there, but they offered a service, and I handed over my coins.”

  His father was sometimes too frank, though, and this was one of those times.

  Joshua knew many women who ended up in saloons and whorehouses chose for themselves, but some also felt they had no choice in the matter, and he'd always sworn never to take advantage of a woman like that. But with Bethany, he had seen and wanted, so he did everything that night to win her. "She was untouched," he said gruffly. "I was the one to break her virginity…and it was only out of fear she submitted."

  August Kincaid smoked for several minutes before he said, "In the days Miss Bethany was here, all I saw was a woman with stars in her eyes when she looked at you. If she believed you had hurt her that night, there wouldn't have been that soft look on her face every time she gazed your way. If you go for her now and bring her home…you wouldn't be forcing her, simply going for your woman."

  Joshua smiled. It was something he had been thinking of doing for days, yet hearing his father echo his thoughts, eased some of the uncertainty inside of him. He’d accepted he couldn’t let her go.

  “So, you bringing her home?”

  “No…but I’ll be going to her.”

  His father thought on that, and then he sighed. “Your ma will be mighty displeased at the notion of you moving to Boston.”

  Somehow that night she’d become a part of him, and he’d never been able to let her go, and never would. “I love her,” he said.

  August chuckled, and clapped him on the shoulder.

  “You’re a frontier man, and you’re willing to leave the wide-open lands to be with her. That tells me you love that woman with your entire soul, son,” his father said. “When we Kincaid men love, we tend to make an ass of ourselves in how we love our women. But I reckon that’s fine.”

  And then there wasn’t much to say after that.

  Several days later Joshua arrived in Boston to the address Beth had left with him. Instead of walking to the front door of the elegant townhouse, he lingered across the street, discreetly watching the house. A few beautiful ladies and gentlemen walking down the paved road had shot him suspicious looks, and a few well-sprung carriages had slowed to observe him some, no doubt it was the six-shooter strapped to his hip that drew their attention. He'd ignored them.

  The door to the townhouse opened. An elegant town carriage and four horses were pulled up outside the house, and a young man held the leader's head. Joshua's breath left his lungs as Beth exited the house. She was dressed in a dark blue velvet skirt and a white ruffled silk blouse. A dark blue hat was perched rather rakishly atop her vibrant red curls. She was a pretty picture of etiquette and grace befitting a lady of society. He belatedly realised she was accompanied by a lady whom he assumed was her mother. Though Joshua had cleaned up, he felt a bit rough around the edges faced with such gentility. She laughed at something her mother said, and she seemed so radiant and happy, not at all ravaged as how Joshua felt.

  He had made a mistake. Beth had settled into her life, and here he was thinking to upend it. They climbed into the carriage and then it rolled away down the street, the groom scrambling aboard as it picked up speed. It didn't even make sense for him to head into the town and find lodgings. He had been a damn fool to head out here. This was the life she wanted, and she damn well looked perfect in it.

  Except he was not the type of man to omit to say his piece when he had something to say. And it would be an injustice to travel this far and not even touch her, even if it was only once more...

  Beth kissed Grayson on his cheek, before handing him to her mother.

  "Mamma," he cried with exuberance reaching for her. With a light laugh, she wagged her finger at him. She'd just spent the last thirty minutes playing with him on the carpet in the parlor. Her mother's expression had said she found Beth's conduct unladylike, but she didn't care. Her mother's anticipated dinner party was the following evening, and there was a bustle of activities taking place as the servants cleaned the townhouse. She had gone shopping with her mother earlier to escape the madness, and Beth had bought new silk stockings and undergarments. How she had allowed her mother to convince her the purchases made sense she would never know.

  “I’m off to take a bath, and perhaps nap for a bit. I am a bit tired.”

  “Go, I have him,” her mother said, placing a kiss on her grandson’s forehead.

  Beth nodded and made her way from the drawing room. David was strolling down the hallway with his father, and she hurried to the stairs, so she wouldn’t have to greet him. While he had apologized to her again most sincerely, she did not trust him and avoided him to his frustration.

  She climbed the stairs, opened the door to her room and froze. The shopping bag slipped from her hand, and she moved further into the room hesitantly. The scent of her man and tobacco flaring her nostrils. Had he gotten her telegram already? She’d only sent it yesterday. Don’t be silly, she scolded herself. He had headed to Boston before she'd even decided to send him her message. Her gaze scanned the room, and she detected no one, but she knew he was still there. She could feel him.

  “Joshua?” She felt almost silly, but her heart was beating a desperate rhythm.

  The door closed behind her, and she trembled. Beth slowly turned. And there he was leaning against the wall by the door. Every feminine instinct she possessed was drawn to him, and she wanted to throw herself at him. But she held onto her composure. The silence stretched out, broken only by the faint chime of the hallway clock. His black, flat-crowned hat was pulled low, and a red bandana was tied loosely around his neck. And he had worn a gun. She’d never seen a more splendid sight. He would have stuck out like a sore thumb in Boston where the men dressed in waistcoats and cravats. Joshua watched her with an unreadable intensity that sucked all the air from her lungs.

  “Bethany,” he said. Just that.

  She stood, staring at him, still unable to utter a sound. "Joshua, what are you doing here?"

  Shadows flashed in his eyes, and she didn't want them there. “I’m happy you’re here, Joshua, I’ve missed you so,” she whispered achingly.

  She didn’t think he expected that answer.

  “Come here, brown eyes.”

  She moved toward him, and he met her in the middle of the room. He hugged her in a tight grip, and she returned his embrace just as fiercely. "How did you get in?" she whispered against his chest.

  “I broke in.”

  The very idea was so shocking she laughed. There were several servants in the house for God sakes. “Why did you come?”

  “Do you want me to leave?”

  “No,” she gasped, her fingers tightening on the back of his shirt.

  She could feel the pounding of his heart against her face.

  “I’ve missed you. I took my first breath just now when I saw you,” he said. “Without you in my life…I am empty. I had to come.”

  A thrill burst inside her heart, and she lifted her face from his chest and peered up. His beautiful green eyes glittered with something thoroughly primal and a bit intimidating. “Joshua?”

  “Brown eyes?”

  “If you don’t kiss me, I will likely die.”

  He tugged her to him, lifted her against his chest and claimed her lips in a heated embrace. There was something very savage but so wonderful in the fierce way his lips moved on hers. He stumbled until he sat on the edge of the bed, dragging her onto his lap, so she sat astride him, her knees bracketing his outer thighs. He removed the pins, so her hair fell in wild disarray to her waist. How wanton she
must look. She hazily wondered if she had locked the door, but then his thumbs raked over her nipples and her thoughts splintered. When had he parted her blouse?

  His fingers stroked over to her collarbone, down to the underside of her breast and around to her back and down to her backside, which he gripped tightly in his large hands…and squeezed. Her skirt was pushed up to her hips, and then his fingers skimmed over the top of her stockings and garters to the opening of her drawers. Those wicked fingers caressed the wet folds of her sex, and she trembled in reaction. That hand disappeared, he lifted her off him slightly with one muscled arm, while the other worked at the front of his trousers, and her man never stopped kissing her, not once.

  He made her weak. He made her desperate.

  She reached between them and grabbed his thick length, rubbing the flared mushroomed head of his manhood over her slick folds. His groan of approval said she did the right thing. He palmed her buttocks in his strong hands, lifted her until the tip of his manhood was poised at her wet entrance, then he slammed her onto his cock.

  The scream exploded from her mouth into his. Pleasure and pain—the sweet, agonizing kind.

  He broke their kiss, staring at her. Then he brushed the lightest of kisses on her lips. “Later…much later, it will be gentle. But now, it'll be a rough ride. Can you handle it?”

  Her nails dug into his shoulders. “Always,” she whispered, craving him with her entire soul.

  Then he didn’t give her a chance to say anything more. It shouldn’t have been possible for his kisses to be such a tender assault because the way he slammed her down on his cock over and over was rough and ravaging. Maybe too rough for she felt stretched to her limits. She sobbed into his kiss, her nails biting into his shoulders as he took her. Acting with carnal instincts, she slipped one of her hands between them, and allowed her fingers to find her clitoris and rubbed it with quickening strokes. Beth tightened even further on his cock as pleasure quaked through her.

  “Ride me, brown eyes,” he growled, giving her some measure of control.

  And she did. It seemed to go on forever, hard, passionate thrusts that had her climbing higher and higher towards bliss. With a tortured groan, he flipped her around, pressing her deep into the mattress, his arms wrapping beneath her to hold her even closer. With each thrust of his hips, each glide of the thick erection, the sensations only mounted.

  “I love you, Bethany,” he suddenly groaned at her ear.

  It was as if his words snapped the tight pressure that had been gathering inside her, and waves of delight poured through her as she convulsed in his arms. Yet he didn’t stop riding her. Over and over his broad length stroked into her, filling her with pained delight. She was enslaved by the pure, rich, and wonderful sensation of being loved by Joshua Kincaid. Pleasure became an agony of ecstasy, as she found her release several times before he emptied himself deep inside her with an earthy groan.

  He was heavy atop her, but she wouldn’t move him for the entire world. He pulled from her tender flesh, rolled with her so that she was splayed atop him. Beth smiled, knowing he could feel the curve of her lips against his chest. Everything felt right and wonderful. “I love you, Joshua Kincaid.”

  His hands tightened around her. She wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, she only knew she wanted to be with him forever. She fell asleep, though not for long. Joshua roused her with wicked kisses and illicit touches, and took her twice, loving her with exquisite care. And for the first time since arriving in Boston, Beth sunk into a deep, dreamless sleep, her body enveloped by the warmth and comfort of Joshua.

  Chapter 17

  The very next day, Beth wondered if she had dreamed of Joshua being in her room. She had surged awake, and her chamber was frightfully empty. Then she had shifted and winced. That ache between her thighs wasn’t a dream, nor was the three times they had made love for the night, frantic with need for each other.

  Where was he? His smell lingered, but the dratted man was nowhere to be found. She went through the motions of the day but paused several times to check her chamber to see if he had returned. It was only hours later, as she dressed for the dinner party that he slipped into her room. Where he came from she hardly knew, for she had been watching the windows. “Where have you been?” she whispered furiously.

  “Missed me, did you,” he said with a devastating grin.

  She scowled. “I was worried.”

  “About me?” He sounded truly shocked.

  She rolled her eyes. “I know you’re dangerous and all, but I still worry.”

  “I checked myself into a hotel and caught up on some sleep.”

  She sighed happily when he came over to her and kissed her. It didn’t take long for the heat to build between them. With a regretful moan, she pulled away. “I have to go. My mother will come looking for me soon. I do not think she would respond well to seeing you here.”

  “We need to talk, brown eyes.”

  Her heart stilled, and she searched his eyes. "Are you leaving so soon?"

  His gaze shuttered. “No.”

  Relief filled her. “Please don’t disappear on me. I will stay at the dinner for an hour, and then politely excuse myself. Don’t leave this room.”

  He smiled, and her heart flipped in her chest. Joshua made his way to her bed and tugged a book from his back pocket. Then he leaned against the headboard and watched her. She placed the finishing touches on her hair and dabbed perfume behind her ears. Then she twirled to face him. “Do I pass muster?”

  The teasing grin on her face slowly faded and a lump formed in her throat. He was staring at her as if she was the most precious thing he had ever seen. She strolled over to him, leaned down and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I love you. I shall be up soon.”

  After kissing him for a few more minutes, she laughingly pulled away and made her way downstairs. She waited by the entrance with her mother, meeting and greeting their guests. Beth made her way to the drawing room, effortlessly socializing with the well-dressed ladies and gentlemen there while her mother waited for the remainder of the guests to arrive. Champagne flowed freely, and dinner would start soon.

  Beth turned around and froze as her mother entered with two men and a woman. One of those men was Cassidy Bartley. There was no mistaking it. He was dressed impeccably, his hair was well groomed, but this was the man who had shot Sheridan and fled like the coward he was to escape justice, all the way to Boston. Who would have thought it?

  What was he doing in her mother’s house? They had willingly let a snake into their nest. As if he felt her stare, he glanced in her direction and faltered. He recognized her. Danger rippled across her skin, and Beth acknowledged how much peril her life was in. She looked away, but the man hadn’t the social graces to stop staring. He started to make his way toward her, grim determination in his eyes, a curve of cruelty in his smile.

  What he hoped to achieve by approaching her so publicly she couldn’t imagine, but she wasn’t waiting to find out. Though Beth knew what she risked—her reputation, her position in Boston’s society, she pushed through the crowd, moving as fast as possible, circling the room to not cross his path. She did not head to her mother or even Mr. Shaw, but down the hallways and up the winding staircase to Joshua—her safe heaven, her dark knight, and the man she loved with her entire being.

  Shoes echoed on the marble floor. Beth glanced down, and she gasped when she saw Bartley rushing behind her, a knife held low against his thigh. Dear God. Beth grabbed the skirt of her dress and ran up the stairs and down to her room. The door was locked, and she banged on it. “Joshua!”

  It swung open, he assessed her face.

  “It’s Cassidy Bartley,” she said, quite aware the man was almost upon her. She pushed into the room, gasping for she was out of breath.

  “Where is he?”

  The man hurtled through her open door, and it was almost comical the manner into which Bartley faltered in his headlong rush to reach her when he saw Joshua. Bartley’s
face whitened, but her man was already rolling into action. He delivered a powerful hit to the man’s gut and a smashing right to the body, a left that broke Bartley's nose. Joshua dragged him from the room, out into the hallways and pushed him down the stairs. The commotion seemed to alert the household, for her mother appeared in the hall, with David, her husband, and a couple of other ladies in tow.

  “Who are you sir and why are you assaulting my guest? Emmet!” her mother all but screeched, looking to her husband for guidance.

  “Bethany, what is happening?” her mother whispered, appearing ready to faint.

  She closed her eyes. There was no time to explain anything. She had to prevent her love from killing Bartley. Who in truth did not deserve her trying to save him.

  Joshua had reached the bottom of the stairs, and Bartley stood his face streaming blood from his broken nose and smashed lips. With a roar of anger, he lunged at Joshua, striking viciously with his knife. Joshua slapped the knife wrist aside, then caught the arm and threw the man over his hip, breaking the arm in the process.

  The calm brutality of Joshua was shocking.

  Bartley collapsed in a faint.

  “Who is that man, and my God, is he wearing guns?” one of the women demanded.

  Joshua was indeed wearing two tied-down guns and had the look of a man who knew how to use them. Her mother’s eyes flared wide, and Mrs. Sanderson gasped audibly. He looked so out of place, so raw, so savage, and so…beautiful. Beth’s mouth was dry and her heart pounding. Her mother looked at him like he was the strangest of creatures and Beth grinned. She couldn’t help it. Then she laughed, pulling everyone attention to her.

  “Mamma, I would like to introduce you to, Joshua Kincaid, he’s…he’s…” Friend seemed inadequate, but he’s Grayson father did not cover who he was to her, yet they were unmarried. The very notion of even admitting he was anything to her was scandalous and bordered on indecent. “He’s the man I love with every emotion in my heart and soul. And the one I’ll be riding beside always. He is my fiancé.”