Fern

by Greenwood, Leigh

  "Samantha and I were talking about you."

  "And you got so carried away with your love for me, you had to kiss somebody. So you kissed the first female handy which just happened to be the beautiful Miss Bruce."

  "I told her I had asked you to marry me, but I was concerned about taking you back to Boston."

  "You probably thought I'd wear my pants and sheepskin vest to your fancy parties. That would embarrass you, wouldn't it? I can just imagine what your old friends would say. I can't imagine what's come over Madison to fall for that female. Surely he can see she belongs in a saloon rather than a salon."

  "I said I thought it would be very lonely for you, not having any friends."

  "You can't expect virtual savages to have friends, particularly not in Boston. Maybe you should bring along a buffalo or a prairie dog to keep me company. But don't choose a rattlesnake. It would remind me too much of you."

  "She said she'd be happy to introduce you to all her friends and to be sure you didn't feel neglected when I had to be away on business."

  Fern's anger faltered.

  "Why should she do that? She's in love with you herself."

  "Don't be ridiculous. Samantha's like a sister. I can still remember the first time I visited Freddy. She couldn't have been more than six or seven."

  It stalled.

  "It doesn't matter how old she was then. She's in love with you now."

  "But I've never done anything to make her fall in love with me."

  She could feel her anger deflate like a punctured balloon.

  "You don't have to. Women fall in love by themselves all the time. I fell in love with you when I still thought you were the most miserable, conceited, wretch on the face of the earth."

  "Then you do still love me," Madison said, squeezing her so tightly she doubted she could take a deep breath.

  Hope, the stubborn little bastard, just wouldn't go away. He popped up again like an apple in a tub.

  "I said I fell in love with you," Fern corrected. "I didn't say I stayed in love."

  "You're too stubborn to change your mind once you've made it up."

  Damn, she was letting him sweet-talk her again. "You are undoubtedly the most conceited, obnoxious--"

  Madison kissed her firmly on the mouth. "I think I fell in love with you that day you jumped on your horse and took out across the plains. And I haven't changed my mind either."

  She could feel herself giving in, believing him. "Then why were you kissing Samantha?" Fern demanded. "Why did you say you loved her?"

  "I do love her," Madison said. "I love her whole family. They had the courage to take a penniless southern boy into their home during a bitterly fought war. They paid for my education, made a place for me in their circle of friends, and made me feel like one of the family. I'll always love them, but that doesn't mean I want to marry Samantha. She's like my sister."

  "That's not the way she feels."

  "How do you know? Did she tell you?"

  "No, but I can tell. Rose knew that first evening."

  Madison looked stunned. "I never knew. Why didn't she say something?"

  "She would never tell you, especially if she thought you loved someone else."

  She could see the uncertainty in his eyes. He clearly didn't want to hurt Samantha. It was impossible to disbelieve the sincerity in his voice, and Fern felt ashamed of herself for doubting him.

  She should have realized long ago that Madison couldn't lie. He didn't care what other people thought to him. If she hadn't been so uncertain of herself, so sure he couldn't love her for herself, she would have seen it.

  Madison had never lied to her. She had lied to herself. For years. All the time.

  Fern felt her resolution begin to crumble. Then it washed away like sand before an incoming wave. She loved him, hopelessly, irrevocably. She must trust him and she must trust herself.

  "I'm sorry if I've hurt Samantha," Madison said. "I never meant to, but I still love you. I still want to marry you."

  "Are you sure?" Fern asked, her voice softer.

  "I've never been more sure of anything in my life. You've made me so crazy I've even found myself going to William Henry for advice."

  "What?" Fern asked, a bubble of happiness about to burst within her.

  "I went looking for Rose, to ask how I could help you get over your aversion to me, but she wasn't there."

  Fern sobered quickly. "I'm still not sure, but I think I can learn to let you make love to me. There's something else. I'm not sure I want any babies."

  "Because of what happened to your mother?"

  She nodded.

  Madison held her more tightly. "I'll take you to the best doctors in New York. We'll even go to Europe if you like. Even then you don't have to have a baby unless you're absolutely sure. I never wanted any until I made the acquaintance of my charming little nephew, but I've got five more brothers. I doubt there'll ever be a shortage of Randolphs in the world."

  "Are you certain you wouldn't miss them?"

  "I don't know, but I'm positive I'd miss you more." He kissed her on the end of her nose. "I've become very used to looking after you. I find I like it very much."

  "But there's still the other problem," Fern pointed out.

  There was a silence.

  "What do you think we ought to do about it?" Madison asked.

  "You don't think you could be married without . . . without . . . "

  "I want you to be my wife, Fern, no matter what."

  But Fern could tell he didn't feel the same way about celibacy he felt about children. He would try, he would probably succeed, but it would take the heart out of their marriage. She wasn't sure she could endure it herself. Even now, as she felt her body trembling from the prolonged contact with his, she could feel some force within her urging her to cling to Madison, to press against him, to get as close as humanly possible.

  She felt like she was being pulled apart by two forces, her mind telling her that intimacy brought pain and fear and her body telling her that something new and wonderful waited for her in Madison's arms.

  "I think we ought to find out."

  Madison stared at her. "When?"

  Fern swallowed. "Now."

  "Are you sure?"

  "Yes. I won't marry you until I know I can be the kind of wife you want and need." She put her fingers to his lips when he tried to speak. "I'd rather see you marry Samantha knowing you could have a normal marriage than marry me knowing you might be forever consigned to the other side of the bed."

  "I won't let you--"

  "This is not your decision," Fern said. "If I can't make love to you, I won't marry you. That's final."

  "You know I love you, but I couldn't live with myself if I caused you any more pain."

  "I'm asking you to," Fern said. "I'm scared, but I want you to." She pulled her arms from his grip and slipped them around him. "I still feel the queasy edge of panic when you hold me, but I feel something more. It's like I know something wonderfully exciting is coming and my entire body tingles with anticipation. It's like there's something I want, something I need so badly I ache for it. I feel it more strongly every time you hold me, every time you kiss me. I want to touch you, Madison. I want you to touch me."

  Madison gently smoothed the hair back from her forehead. After ripping off her dress, riding five miles in an open buggy, and throwing practically everything in the house at him, there wasn't much left of Rose's elegant creation, or of the pins that held it together.

  "I want to make love to you so much by body aches. But more important than that, I want us to spend the rest of our lives together. I don't want to do anything now that might hurt you or endanger that future. Stop me the minute you become scared or uncomfortable or you just don't want to go on. Understand?"

  Fern nodded.

  "I mean it."

  "I know, now stop talking and kiss me."

  The uneasiness, the now-tangible fear, wouldn't go away, but Fern forced herself to conc
entrate on the pleasure of Madison's kiss. She loved him. She wanted to be his wife. She would overcome her fear of letting him make love to her. She had to. Her whole future depended on it.

  But she didn't hate everything. She loved feeling Madison's arms around her. Even standing quietly in the middle of a room, his lips brushing hers in a gentle caress. She couldn't ever remember being held. Even as a little girl, her father wouldn't let her climb up in his lap. He didn't put her to bed. He didn't comfort her when she was hurt or frightened. All her life she had done everything for herself, tried to convince herself she didn't need anything. That she didn't want anything more.

  It was a lie.

  She wanted it so desperately she had lied to herself because she thought she would never have it. Now in Madison's arms she knew she could have more of life's riches than any one woman deserved.

  If she could only overcome her fears.

  Fern focused her mind on Madison's lips. They were so soft and yet so firm and gentle. When he nibbled at the corner of her mouth, brushed her lips with his, or moistened her lips with the tip of his tongue. He was still gentle when he pressed down with a more demanding kiss, even when he forced her lips apart and teased her with the tip of his tongue.

  His hands held her easily in the strong circle of his embrace. She felt his fingers moving along her back, gently massaging the tense muscles, slowly pulling her closer, gradually pressing their bodies together until she could hardly ignore the heat building between them.

  She erected a shield in her mind against the familiar terror which crept out of its dark cave to destroy her pleasure, to destroy her future. And Madison's as well. Holding him tighter, Fern focused her entire mind on Madison's lips and the warm pleasure his kisses caused to flow into other parts of her body.

  "Kiss me," Madison said.

  "I am."

  "No, I'm kissing you. There's a difference."

  Madison's lips relaxed. Fern felt abandoned. Instinctively she withdrew her arms from around Madison, took his face in her hands, and drew him down to her. His lips were warm and moist but unresponsive. She brushed them with her own. They felt so smooth and soft. She pressed a little harder and still his lips didn't move. Relaxing her lips, she kissed him, tentatively at first, then with greater confidence.

  Still, he didn't move.

  Letting her arms slide around his neck, Fern kissed Madison full on the mouth, her mouth opening, her lips covering his with all the hunger she remembered from his kisses. She could feel a tremor shake him, but he seemed determined she should make her own discoveries.

  With mounting excitement, she accepted the challenge.

  Hesitantly, she traced the line of his lower lip with her tongue. Another tremor caused him to shiver, she hoped with pleasure. Growing more bold, and more impatient, Fern's tongue pushed between his parting lips to brush the smooth surface of his teeth. Fern let out a long sigh of satisfaction and tightened her hold around Madison's neck.

  That broke his restraint.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Madison's hold on Fern tightened until she felt she would be crushed in his arms. His mouth covered hers with a desperation born of long restraint. His tongue plunged into her mouth determined to devour every drop of her sweetness.

  But even as his unleashed yearning ignited a similar need in Fern, she felt the muscles in her abdomen constrict. It spread throughout her body until it reached the muscles along her back, neck and jaw.

  Madison felt it, too. "Do you want me to stop?" he asked, his voice husky with desire.

  "Just hold me," Fern said, slipping her arms around him and holding him tight.

  Odd that the very closeness, the embrace which caused her fears to escalate so quickly should also give her the most comfort. But being in Madison's arms made her feel safe, secure, loved. And no fear could entirely overcome that wonderful feeling.

  As they stood there, their bodies entwined, Madison's hands roamed restlessly over her back, shoulders and sides, touching, soothing, warming. She held him close, squeezing tighter as the closeness increased her uneasiness. Gradually, the tension in her jaw eased and her back lost its rigid arch; gradually she felt the tingling sensations in her breast rather than the tightening in her diaphragm; slowly she became aware that her nipples were no longer soft.

  She was also aware of Madison's arousal.

  But the man who attacked her had gotten no farther than baring her body to the waist. Her fears centered on Madison's hands as they moved along her ribs, gently brushing the side of her breasts.

  He had handled her breasts. He had hurt her with his hands and his teeth. He had kissed her with his hot, feverish lips until she was almost sick. He had held her to the ground with the weight of his body. He had scared her almost out of her mind.

  This is different. Madison is different

  She loved his kisses and being in his arms. He wasn't holding her down and he wasn't keeping her here. She wanted to be there.

  Still, when Madison's hands finally moved between them and covered her breasts, she found it difficult to remember anything except that night.

  "Tell me if you want me to stop," Madison said.

  Part of her wanted to stop, but part of her didn't. She said nothing.

  Madison's hands moved to the back of her neck and gently rubbed away some of the tension. He traced the column of her throat, slipped inside her shirt to caress her skin, molded his hands around her shoulders and pulled her to him.

  "I want this to be good for you," Madison said softly. "It's no good if it's not."

  "I'll like it soon," Fern said. She would. She wanted to.

  Madison's hands slipped under the back of her shirt. The feel of his hands on her bare skin surprised a gasp out of her, but it was a gasp of pleasure. If his hands had felt wonderful on her back before, they felt absolutely marvelous on her skin. They were warm and soft. There were no rough callouses. Just warm, comforting smoothness.

  But before she had become accustomed to Madison caressing her bare skin, his hands moved to her side. She stiffened in alarm. She wore nothing under her shirt. There was nothing between her breasts and Madison's hands.

  "I'm barely going to touch you," Madison whispered. "There's no need to be frightened."

  I'm already afraid.

  Madison's hands slid forward to lightly cup Fern's breasts, and she thought she would explode. The sensations which ricocheted throughout her body were so powerful and so contradictory she hardly knew what she felt. She clung to him, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of his back.

  "Is this where he hurt you?" Madison asked.

  She nodded. She couldn't speak.

  "I'm not going to hurt you. I'll stop if you want, but soon you'll begin to know the pleasure I feel."

  Fern doubted that. It was all she could do to keep from flinging herself away from him. Every nerve in her body screamed in rebellion.

  When she thought she could stand it no longer, she told herself she had to hold on to Madison or let him go forever. Though she felt like she was going through Hell just now, she couldn't do that.

  Despite the curtain of fear and the pain of remembering, Fern became aware of a new sensation, a feeling of liquid fire that started in her breasts and spread to the rest of her body. Her muscles remained tense; her loins still ached, but she was no longer prey to pure fear. A seductive warmth had permeated her body, focusing her concentration into ever smaller circles until she discovered the source of this miraculous sensation.

  Madison was gently massaging the firm peaks of her breasts with his fingertips.

  "He never did that," Fern managed to say.

  "He wasn't in love with you," Madison whispered back.

  That was the difference. No matter what happened, Madison loved her. He would never hurt or frighten her. All she had to do was learn to come to him without fear.

  Somehow, without completely unbuttoning her shirt, Madison managed to slip the shirt over Fern's shoulders. Before she h
ad time to be afraid of what he might do, he dropped his lips to the softness of her shoulder, laying a trail of kisses from the curve of her neck to a deliciously sensitive spot just below her ear.

  Fern practically melted against him. She felt like her body was under assault from virtually every angle. Pleasurable sensations throughout her body overwhelming her fear. She tilted her head to one side as Madison followed the outline of her collarbone, settled a nest of kisses in the hollow of her throat, and continued across her other shoulder. All the while his hands continued to tease the firming peaks of her beasts until Fern was conscious of little else.

  Shock stiffened her limbs when Madison let his lips sink to caress the tops of her breasts. Her gasp of surprise turned to a blissful moan as the warmth of his lips sent additional whirls of pleasure spiraling through her body.

  "I'm going to finish unbuttoning your shirt," Madison murmured.

  Fern fought the tension, but she could feel it return. She could remember the feel of his rough hands as they grabbed at her tender breasts. She could remember the pain as his teeth raked her tender skin.

  But Madison's hands continued to gently caress and kneed her breasts, cupping them, lifting them higher until she felt his tongue trace a circle of moist heat around her throbbing nipples.

  No pain. No roughness. Only the delicious feeling which continued to flow through her body, fighting the tension, defeating it, washing it away on an ever-building wave of physical hunger, a hunger so pervasive Fern wondered why she had never suspected its existence before.

  Madison took one throbbing nipple into his mouth. Her body jerked in anticipation of the pain she remembered, but the waves of enervating pleasure that washed over her body vanquished any remaining fear. With a sigh, she gave herself up to Madison and the sweet agony of his touch.

  Without ceasing to worship her body, Madison helped her to sit on the bed, then lie down. Fern felt another moment of uneasiness when he leaned over her, but her body continued to send her signals that all was well.