Brides of the West

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Brides of the West Page 9

by Michele Ann Young


  She looked at him, her blue eyes as cold as a winter sky. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but hesitated.

  “Go on,” he prompted.

  “I never thought I’d see you again.”

  That made two of them. When he’d found her advertisement, a myriad of emotions had overcome him. Anger, rage, betrayal. He’d wanted to hurt her, cause her as much pain as he’d endured all these years without her. But when he’d reached out and taken her by the arm and gazed into her eyes for the first time in nearly ten years, he realized he’d never stopped loving her. How was it possible to feel so much anger toward a person, and yet love them at the same time?

  “You haven’t changed much,” she continued. “Only a small thread of gray in your dark hair. The years have been kind to you, Wolf.”

  His face warmed at her tender expression. Damn, was he blushing? He swallowed the hard knot that formed in his throat, feeling as flustered as a schoolboy. “The years have been most gracious to you, too.”

  She dropped her gaze to the napkin in her lap. “My father is deceased now,” she said quietly. “He passed away two years ago.”

  Wolf already knew Elijah Braddock had died, not that it made any difference. Did she expect him to offer condolences for a man who’d tried to murder him? He sipped his coffee and held back a caustic remark.

  Evangeline’s eyes misted with tears. “I am so sorry for what he did to you. Please believe I knew nothing of that night.” She lowered her voice and glanced about as if to make certain no one was eavesdropping. “I never told him you forced yourself on me. That much I promise you on my life

  He set his glass down. “Still, you admitted we were lovers.”

  She placed her napkin aside and fiddled with her utensils, aligning them neatly beside the plate. “He already knew. He’d witnessed us together.”

  Wolf let out a pent up breath. That would explain the man’s peculiar behavior toward him in the days leading up to the attack. “That doesn’t excuse you from not telling me of your pregnancy.”

  “No, I suppose it doesn’t, but the last night we were together I lost my nerve. You spoke about leaving Texas to buy a ranch in New Mexico. I saw how your eyes lit up when you spoke of striking out on your own. I didn’t want to interfere with your dreams.”

  Anger rolled through him like a ball of fire. His dreams? His dreams were never about owning a damned ranch in New Mexico! His fondest desire was to marry her, to take her away from the bigotry in Texas so they might enjoy a life together! He sprang from the table. Good God! Is that how she’d felt? His stomach churned. “We should return to the hotel.”

  She rose slowly. “You’re angry.” It wasn’t a question.

  He signaled for the check, then turned back to look at her. How could she have misread his intentions all those years ago? Had she thought their lovemaking meant nothing more to him than a quick release? She was no dalliance. He’d never given his heart so freely to a woman. He wasn’t in the habit of deflowering virgins, either.

  The waiter brought the check and he paid the man. Looping his arm through hers, they strode out of the restaurant. In silence they hurried along the walk.

  “Might you slow your step?” she asked.

  He had no intention of slowing.

  She struggled to keep up with him. “Why are you angry, Wolf? What have I done to upset you?”

  He paused on the walkway, yanked his arm free from hers. He caught her by the shoulders, squeezed them gently.

  “Did you truly think I didn’t care about you? That I only used your innocence to satisfy my urges?”

  She shuddered in his grasp. “Please, lower your voice,” she said barely above a whisper. “Such a public display is most unseemly.”

  He glanced about. Several people had gathered nearby to watch. Damn them all! Let them look for all he cared.

  “It was you—” his voice broke, tears burned his eyes—“you I wanted Evangeline, not some damned ranch in New Mexico, not some elusive dream.”

  ***

  In the hotel room, Evangeline prepared for bed. Wolf spent a sleepless night in the chair by the door, listening to her soft weeping. Sometime during the night, he awoke to her fitful cries. She thrashed in the bed, sending the blankets to the floor. He covered her with a quilt again and stood watch beside her.

  At one point, he fantasized of sliding beneath the covers, awakening her with a gentle kiss. Would she welcome his touch again or push him away? His sex grew and lengthened, painfully so, and it took all the willpower he possessed not to act on his desires. To do so would influence her decision to stay in the marriage, and the last thing he wanted was to force her into an arrangement she didn’t truly want.

  ***

  He and Mac spent most of the next day securing food staples and supplies for the trip home to Gonzales. They packed coffee, flour, cornmeal, sugar, salt and a basket of fresh tortillas from a local vendor into the wagon, along with handwoven woolen blankets and two new iron skillets. He also purchased rope, a roll of baling wire and two sacks of cracked corn for his hens.

  By late afternoon Evangeline had still not informed him of her decision. She’d gone shopping that morning and didn’t meet them at the restaurant for the noon meal. He supposed it was best they keep their distance. At least he would be spared the pitying look on her face, now that he’d divulged the innermost secrets of his heart.

  He returned to their room, intending to bathe and change into fresh clothes for dinner, but it gave him great pleasure to watch the shocked expression on Evangeline’s face as he stripped off his shirt and undid the first two buttons of his trousers. A slow blush crept over her cheeks and throat. Still, she didn’t look away. After the erotic dream he’d had last night, his need for release ran high, but as angry and confused as he was he dared not touch her.

  “I’d suggest you freshen up, too.” He poured water into the basin. “It’s been an unseasonably warm day again.”

  She clutched the collar on her dress as her flushed cheeks paled. “Wolf...we cannot do this. We simply cannot.”

  He stared. Did she think he’d returned to consummate their marriage? If so, why did she appear frightened of the prospect of intimacy? Was it the revolting scar on his throat, the reminder of her father’s brutality? Or had she made the decision to leave?

  He bent and splashed water on his face, then reached for the towel. Keeping his best poker face, he tested her. “You know as well as I do that our marriage vows aren’t sealed until I’ve bedded you. Besides, Mac is in his room, enjoying a new dime novel. We have a few hours to kill.”

  “Yesterday you asked if I wanted an annulment.”

  Was she seriously considering such? He lay the towel aside and turned to face her. “You never answered, so I assumed you did not.”

  “I cannot easily obtain an annulment if we have had relations.”

  Damn her. She was considering it! He shrugged indifferently so as to give nothing away. “You can always divorce me later,” he suggested, unable to keep from breaking into a smile. “That will not preclude our becoming intimate.”

  He perused her boldly as he recalled last night’s dream. The pulse beat wildly at her throat. The bodice of her pretty pink dress rose and fell with each shallow breath. He was moments away from pulling her into his arms, kissing that frightened little girl look from her face, and carrying her to bed.

  “How can you ask me to stay in this marriage when it is based on lies?”

  “You’re one to talk of lies,” he shot back. “You kept the truth of my son from me for ten years.”

  “I had no choice. I’ve told you before, my father threatened to kill you. He threatened Mac’s life if I ever returned. I left Texas not knowing what they’d done to you.” She reached out to touch him, then dropped her hand at her side.

  Gritting his teeth, he unbuttoned his trousers. “So, dear wife, what do you suggest we do for the next two hours? Play cards? Discuss the weather?”

  She swallowed ha
rd. “Perhaps we might nap.”

  He laughed. “Nap? As I recall, you once enjoyed my pleasuring. We wiled away many hours by the creek. Do you remember, Evangeline?”

  She clutched the high collar on her dress. “That was many years ago.”

  He chuckled. “You would still enjoy my attentions, I assure you.”

  He dropped his trousers, revealing his arousal and she turned away. He grasped her by the arm and gave her a sobering yank toward him. Her gaze locked with his. “Nothing has changed between you and me except we’re now legally married.” He released her, then kicked out of his trousers and reached for a fresh pair that lay folded across the valet. “What’s wrong, Evangeline? Was sex with me more titillating when forbidden, when you were forced to sneak around with the savage and steal moments in the barn or under the moonlight at the creek?”

  “You know that’s untrue. I never thought of you as a...savage.” She whispered the word.

  In hopes of provoking her, he added, “Sometimes I think I was merely a toy, a way for you to pass your boredom on that lonely isolated ranch.” He pulled on his pants. “After all, I was a ‘breed.’ I could brag to no one of my conquest with Elijah Braddock’s pretty white daughter, lest I wished to be hanged. Was that it? Did you consider me a safe outlet that summer for your sexual experimentations?”

  She gasped. “Wolf! How can you say such a horrible thing?”

  He was in her face. “Because if you’d given a damn about me you would have told me of the child growing in your belly!” He reeled away trembling, hating himself for his rage. But he couldn’t control himself, couldn’t stop the angry words that followed. “Perhaps you still pine for your late husband, Garrick Payne? Was the old fellow a better lover than I? Did he care for you more than I?”

  Her chin went up a notch. “Garrick cared for no one but himself. And to answer your question, I feel nothing for Garrick’s memory except hatred. I’m glad he’s dead. He deserved worse than death—far worse if there is such a thing.”

  Wolf lifted a brow. She’d never mentioned much about her late husband in her letters, except that he’d been an older man—somewhat distant and unaffectionate. Before he’d believed it due to their age difference, but now he wasn’t certain. “Such unkind words for your late husband, a man of the cloth no less.”

  “Garrick might have been a minister, but he was a despicable bastard first and foremost.”

  “Rather like I am in your opinion?”

  Her gaze poured over him and he watched the anger in her eyes change to desire. Was this his imagination? No. A soft blush crept over her cheeks as her gaze slipped over his semi-nude body. She brushed the back of her hand across her brow as if his nearness made her uncomfortable.

  Trembling, not so much from rage but from desire, he quickly finished dressing, then left her alone to bathe. Evangeline could stay with him and Mac or board a train back to Georgia. He wouldn’t force her to stay in the marriage. Nor would he touch her unless she came willingly to his bed.

  ***

  Once Wolf closed the door, Evangeline loosened the bodice on the dress and dipped a sponge into the basin of fresh water, drawing it over her burning cheeks and chin. Oh, my! She’d forgotten how the man’s mere presence affected her. She washed her face, then looked into the mirror. Would Wolf ever forgive her for what her father had done to him?

  He’d made it clear she couldn’t get out of the marriage without surrendering Mac, but did she want out? After all, he’d changed his name to Adam Smith. He was a respectable landholder in south central Texas and his ranch was fairly isolated, situated a few miles south of Gonzales. The person who’d sent the threatening notes in Savannah would never find her now. Perhaps it was best she stay in the marriage, at least for Mac’s sake.

  She eased the front of her dress off her shoulders and bathed her heat-flushed throat and chest. She didn’t blame Wolf for his anger toward her. However, she hoped in time he might find it in his heart to forgive past hurts. She hadn’t married Garrick Payne for love. Her father paid him to marry her. She also hadn’t participated in her father’s underhanded dealings.

  Fire ignited in the pit of her belly as she recalled the evidence of Wolf’s desire when he’d undressed. It had been so long since she’d been touched with tenderness and she wondered what it would be like to take him inside her body again.

  Gazing into the oval, beveled mirror on the washstand, she drew the front of the dress down, pretended it was Wolf undressing her. She closed her eyes and caressed her shoulders, wishing she could make him understand how much she’d loved him.

  Her breath caught in her throat as the startling realization washed over her.

  She still loved him.

  The ache for his touch grew nearly unbearable. Reaching behind her, she unbuttoned her dress and stepped from the garment, allowing it to puddle at her feet. Then she untied her petticoats. One, two, three, they fell into a heap atop her dress. She stepped from the pile of garments and laid each piece neatly across the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles. Then she unlaced her corset. After she’d fainted yesterday, Wolf had forbidden her to wear one, but she couldn’t have left the hotel this morning without proper underclothes. Wrenching free of the confining garment, she reached up to caress her breasts through the fabric of the thin, cotton chemise. She felt naughty, decadent for touching herself, but it had been so long since she’d been loved.

  “You are still as beautiful as I recall, Evangeline.”

  She whirled about, having not heard him enter. Heavens! Had he caught her? “You might have knocked,” she snapped, reaching for a towel to cover her bosom.

  “I did knock but you were...occupied.” He grinned, that silly boyish grin that always made her heart turn over. “Entertaining lusty thoughts of me?”

  She steeled herself from the onslaught of his magnetism as desire for him warred within. She hadn’t wanted a man’s touch in years, but this was Wolf, the man she still loved with all her heart. She craved him even now with a hunger beyond reason, despite the fact they’d both hurt one another. “Why have you returned so soon?”

  “I came to apologize for my harsh remarks. Besides—” he reached for his scarf—“I forgot this.” He whisked it around his neck and knotted it in front, concealing the ugly scar.

  He moved closer and a shiver of delight danced up her spine at his nearness. While she tried to avoid looking at the blue bandanna around his neck, oddly she was drawn to it. She longed to untie it, press her lips against his scar and kiss away the pain he must have felt. She wanted to undress him slowly, melt against his bronzed skin and slip her arms around his neck, take him inside her body and feel the hot fire raining down on her as they moved together in a rhythm as old as time. There would be nothing but pleasure in this handsome man’s arms, beautiful indescribable pleasure.

  “Shall I help you dress for dinner?” His smooth voice slid over her like a warm summer wind. “Or have you not finished your bath?”

  Evangeline shivered. If she wanted to keep Mac, she must stay with Wolf and honor her wedding vows. Not that it would be so terrible enjoying his bed again.

  “N-no. I’ve finished my bath,” she answered. Trembling, she boldly drew the chemise open.

  He flinched as if her brazen behavior stunned him. Then his lips slowly curled into a lazy, sensual smile. She stood before him in nothing but her blue satin drawers and stockings, her body thrumming in anticipation. His hot gaze slid over her and her breasts warmed and ached for his touch.

  “I see you’ve had a change of heart.” He moved so close she could feel the heat emanating from his body. “You’re trembling.” He reached up to give her bare shoulders a gentle squeeze. His hands were warm, his palms rough. “Are you certain this is what you desire?”

  She swallowed hard. “Yes.”

  No.

  She was never more uncertain of anything in her life. She was terrified of giving her heart to him again. What if Wolf never put aside his mistrust and forgave
her? Could their marriage survive such a divide? It must, for Mac’s sake, and she must try to let him know how much she still loved him. She reached for the scarf at his neck and plucked at the knot.

  His hands came up to still hers. “Don’t.”

  “Please, Wolf.” She unbuttoned his shirt, stared at the scar, then her eyes traveled over his chest as she revealed him to her gaze. The shell and turquoise necklace that had belonged to his Apache mother lay in stark contrast against his dark skin. She smoothed her palms over his chest, sliding them downward to his pants. She untucked his shirt, eased the sleeves from his bronzed, muscular shoulders and cast it aside. Her eyes followed the soft dusting of black hair that formed a line from his navel and disappeared below the waistband of his pants. Her eyes lifted to his and she raised up on tiptoe and parted her lips slightly to encourage a kiss.

  “You’re still so lovely.” His mouth hovered within an inch of hers.

  She closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her, to take her into his arms. Her legs grew soft like jelly, her heart pounding so hard in her chest she was almost certain he could hear it.

  “Does this mean you’ve made a decision?”

  She swallowed hard as she gazed into his coal-black eyes. The untended ache between her thighs grew. Her breasts ached to be caressed. Of course she intended to stay in the marriage.

  “Y-yes—” a shiver of desire rippled through her—“I will stay with you.”

  Questioning eyes held hers for a moment. “Only because of Mac?”

  She hesitated. Mac was one reason, but not all.

  “You must be certain this is what you want, Evangeline.”

  Words wouldn’t form in her mouth. His sensual presence overtook her, the stubborn set of his jaw, his dark, smoldering eyes—the raw sensuality he exuded. Never had she been so ambivalent. If they made love, their marriage vows were sealed. If they didn’t, she would lose him yet again—possibly even Mac.

  Before she could answer, he hauled her against him. His mouth slammed hard across hers in fierce possession. His tongue thrust past her lips, tangling and mating with hers in an erotic dance. He kissed her hard and deep as if he couldn’t get enough, pressing his male hardness against her hip. She felt all of him, even through the thick canvas pants which separated them.

 

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