11th Hour Rose
Page 7
Lilly.
She stood off the corner of a wooden outbuilding washed in the golden glow of a lantern, her huge blue eyes raised up, searching his face. Concern and something more… perhaps disappointment... laced her pretty visage.
“Davy,” she whispered, taking one step toward him.
The innocent movement rocked through him, shaking him to the core So much promise lived in that one small step, as though all he need do is close the remaining distance between them to discover something new… forbidden… something he’d denied himself for a very long time.
He jerked back a step, the movement instinctive and bred of pure self-preservation.
Lilly stopped, a flicker of hurt dimming her eyes. She crossed her arms and raised her chin. “You’re leaving?”
“I am.”
“I see.” Her gaze drifted away for a moment before she turned back to him. “What happened on the dance floor, Davy? We need to talk about it.”
“I warned you about Brady.”
She shook her head, loose tresses swirling around her throat. “No. There is more going on here, Davy. More between us.” She gulped nervously, appearing unsure of how to proceed. “For a moment I thought you might…” her voice dropped to a bare hush, a hint of wistfulness in her tone, and her wide round eyes, so blue it could break a man’s heart just to look at them, pierced him to the core, “kiss me.”
Panic pierced his gut with lightening force. Typical Lilly, direct to a fault, her words never failed to shoot straight to the core of a problem. He steeled his nerves. “You were mistaken,” he replied coolly, ignoring a pang of guilt. Better to disillusion her now before this little infatuation went further. He was leaving. Leaving. In a few short weeks Lilly Hudson would be but a memory.
Fire flared back to life in her eyes, eclipsing the flash of pain. She stalked forward. “If you’re leaving and have no intentions toward me then I don’t see what gives you the right to chase off my prospects.”
“If Marcus Brady is your idea of a prospect then you’re better off alone.”
11th Hour Rose
Seven
Better off alone? Better off alone!
Davy’s insulting claim from the night before circled Lilly’s mind with torrential vengeance. She plunged white petticoats into a bucket of wash water and scrubbed as though it was David Langston’s head scraping over the washboard.
“Stubborn, incorrigible, brute of a man,” she mumbled to herself. Not to mention dishonest. He would have kissed her if Marcus hadn’t interrupted their dance. Davy’s behavior had been downright possessive. Jealous even. She didn’t believe for a moment he felt nothing for her—a rather heady insight—though she had no idea what to do with the information. He was leaving after all… moving west.
Lilly wrung the sopping garment and sighed, tossing it into a waiting wicker basket. True despair had accompanied the news of Davy’s departure, leaving her no choice but to admit her growing attraction—and affection—for the man. However often they sparred, she’d become intimate with the David hiding beneath the stern exterior. She’d seen his humor, his compassionate side, even his pain and insecurities about loss. They’d become true friends these last few days. Last night she’d lain awake unable to banish the heat of his arms, the protective strength of his embrace, and the hungry gleam in his eye when he’d been but a moment from kissing her.
Lost in thought Lilly shoved to her feet, lifting the basket of wet laundry to hang on the line. She propped the basket on her hip and opened the back door with her opposite hand. She stepped through the portal into the autumn sunshine and—
Crunch.
Mildly startled, Lilly tugged her foot back, glancing down. “Oh, my!” She bit back a grin of delight. Roses! She’d stepped directly onto a bouquet of three red roses left on the back porch. She dropped the laundry basket and scooped up the slightly mangled flowers. No note or card accompanied the arrangement but the stems were held together with a simple white ribbon. She bit her bottom lip.
They must be from David. Another peace offering perhaps?
The grin finally spilled over her teeth as she gazed at the flowers. She didn’t know what to make of this, but what could it hurt to test the waters?
* * *
A few hours later Lilly made her way up the stairs to the sheriff’s office, a picnic basket looped over one arm and nerves swimming through her veins. Was this a fool’s errand? Most likely, but she’d never been the sort of girl to sit back and wait for life to come to her. If there was something between her and David Langston, then she would discover just what it was.
Drawing a steadying breath Lilly fixed a smile on her face and slowly opened the door, peeking into the office at the back of the jailhouse.
Just as she expected David sat behind a large wooden desk, the smooth surface buried in books and papers. Multiple pens and an ink well sat on the right upper corner. His familiar gray hat hung on a hook. Two small square windows situated high on the walls illuminated the room with golden sunlight. Davy hunched over a stack of ledgers, broad shoulders rolled forward, elbows propped on the desktop, blond hair mussed as though he’d repeatedly raked his fingers through the wavy thickness.
“Deliveries in the corner,” he ordered gruffly without glancing up from his work.
Lilly licked her lips, mouth suddenly bone dry. “It looks as though I’ve arrived just in time.”
Davy startled and glanced up in genuine surprise. “Lilly?” He blinked and rubbed a thumb and forefinger across his eyes. Exhaustion edged his face and a thick shadow of whiskers dusted his jaw. By all appearances he’d worked through the night. “What are you doing here?”
She lifted the picnic basket, offering a friendly grin. “I brought you a bit of lunch.” She bustled into the office, allowing the door to swing closed behind her. She glanced at the cluttered desk and elected to set the basket on the floor. “Cornbread, chicken,” she pulled the items from the basket, setting them on the edge of the desk by the pens, “a jug of cider, and fresh apples.”
He leaned forward, golden brow raised in combined appreciation and bewilderment. “That is very kind, but what have I done to deserve all this?”
Lilly shrugged coquettishly, growing more confident. “Just a little thank you for the flowers you left by my door.”
Davy shook his head slightly, brow folding in confusion. “I didn’t leave you any flowers.”
Her flirtatious mood drained instantly, replaced by mortification. “Y-you didn’t? But I thought…”
Davy lifted a sheaf of rumpled papers, and his gaze narrowed. After a moment he shot to his feet, expression dark, and rounded the table. “What sort of flowers did you find, Lilly?”
“Roses,” she replied, taking a quick step backward, heat flaming in her cheeks. “I should really be going. Forgive me for disrupting. I was mistaken.”
“Don’t go.” He seized her upper arm, halting her would-be retreat. “How many roses?”
“What difference does that make?” Lilly wanted nothing more than to extricate her arm from his iron grip, slink out of the office, and hide until he left for adventure in the west.
He grasped both her upper arms roughly, giving her a quick shake. “How many?”
Startled, Lilly met his serious gaze. Davy’s blue eyes blazed with a chilling combination of fire and ice. “Three.”
The lines around his eyes deepened gravely, his strong fingers biting into the flesh of her arms. “Was there a ribbon?”
Lilly gulped, unnerved by his reaction. “Well, yes… a white ribbon tied the flowers together.”
“Jesus.” Davy threw his arms up in frustration, backing away from her. “Bloody hell.” Pure horror darkened his pupils.
Lilly’s heart plummeted, a sliver of fear seeding in her belly. “David? I don’t understand. What is the matter?”
“The roses. The roses,” he repeated as though she were missing the most obvious piece of a simple puzzle. “Three roses tied with white ribbo
n sat on Susannah Jensen’s table. I saw them when I spoke with Frank the day after she died, and three dead roses tied with white ribbon were in Clara Hachette’s room. Do you remember?”
Lilly swallowed. She did remember.
Davy gestured obtusely to his desk. “I was just reviewing the notes. Sweet Jesus,” he mumbled, looking as though he might become physically ill. “Oh, Christ, Lilly, do you understand what this means?”
Mind spinning, she nodded slowly. Cold chills coursed over her body. “Do you believe I’m the killer’s next target?” Lilly took a slow turn about the room, wringing her hands as thoughts slammed one after the other into her brain. “This…” She gulped, stilling trembling hands. “This could be good.”
“Good?” David exploded. “How could this possibly be good?”
“We can use this, me, to lure the killer out.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Davy,” she placated, mentally taking control of the situation. A plan took shape in her mind. She drew a deep breath, already feeling calmer. “Please hear me out.”
“No. I will not entertain any notion that involves using yourself as bait.” Agitated, he paced the length of the far wall, raking a palm through his hair.
“Davy, I can help, I—”
“No!” He whirled on her, eyes flashing. “You cannot help! This is dangerous, Lilly. I will not knowingly put you in harm’s way or stand by and see you get killed.” The anger in his gaze morphed to one of haunted horror. “Lilly,” he rasped, tone much quieter. He moved in on her slowly, frame rigid, his every movement primal. He reached out, taking her face in his roughened hands. “You are young and beautiful and at the forefront of your life... Lilly, I…” the words drifted off, his gaze roaming her face. In an instant his regard transformed from confusion and concern to one of such smoldering intensity her breath hitched.
He cared for her. Lilly knew it to the depths of her soul. “Y-you think I’m beautiful?”
“Of course I think you’re beau–ti–ful,” his voice changed mid-word, expression growing soft… yielding and yearning… He drew in a long breath, tenderly brushing a stay hair from her forehead. “You’re stunning, Lilly. I don’t know why I’ve never noticed before recently, but your hair glows like apple butter and honey, and your eyes... your eyes remind me of diamonds.” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “You’re so smart and yet you infuriate me like no one I’ve ever met.” He tipped her chin, dragging a calloused thumb across her bottom lip.
“Davy,” she whispered, quite beyond intelligible speech. Never had she imagined such a fan of compliments to come from his lips.
“Lilly…” He closed the remaining distance between them, cocking his head to the side. “Sweet Lilly,” he whispered again. His lips hovered just above hers, his breath breezing over her mouth in moist, hot gusts.
Please, please, please, Lilly silently begged. Don’t leave me waiting again.
His lips descended and whispered over hers.
Lilly’s lids fluttered as he drew back slightly, and closed completely when he leaned in to decisively claim her lips. Excitement stemmed through her veins, heart thrumming madly in her chest. Heavens! She could scarcely believe this was happening! On pure instinct she curled her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her. Davy groaned, wrapping his arms around her waist. Lilly shivered in delight as her soft curves molded to every contour of his muscular body in a sensual caress. His lips shifted against hers, parting and teasing, creating delicious friction. She parted her lips, answering the unspoken invitation, allowing his tongue to intrude her mouth.
His hands drifted down to clasp the round curve of her bottom pressing her hips more snuggly against his. She gasped.
“Lilly,” he groaned against her lips. Bending slightly, he lifted her up and carried her a few steps across the room. One brawny arm left her as he swept a pile of papers from his desk and set her roughly on the cool wooden surface.
“Oh! Davy, I—” His mouth quickly closed over hers, swallowing her words. He stepped between her knees, big hands burning through her heavy skirts to the flesh of her thighs. One broad palm slid up her leg, and curved around her hip. Dragging his lips away from hers, his mouth found the soft curve of her throat. His fingers gently stroked the nape as his lips dragged seductively down to her collarbone, stopping at the hollow of her throat.
“Davy…” she moaned tremulously, settling both palms against his chest. The strong thud of his heart beat against her right hand, the steady rhythm pounding through her veins, creating a dizzying rhythm in her head.
“Yes, love?” His lips traveled back up the column of her neck.
For the life of her she couldn’t remember what she’d been about to say. All she knew was the intoxicating heat of his lips and how taut and perfectly muscled his chest was. She knew the intense desire to see him, touch him, without the barrier of his shirt and vest.
He pulled first one and then the second long pin from her hair, allowing the thick, silken mass to tumble down her back. His fingers soon found the clasps at the front of her gown, and wanton yearning for him scorched through her like a fever. Her nipples tightened, straining rebelliously against her gown for his touch. Nimbly he released the buttons lining the front of her bodice, loosening the restraining garments and tugging the sleeves back from her shoulders. He paused for the barest instant, brilliant blue gaze hooded and dark with a passion that left her heady, and powerful, and hungry for more. Hesitantly, almost reverently he traced the back of his knuckles across the silk camisole beneath. The pad of his thumb dipped beneath the fold, gently grazing her bare breast. Lilly inhaled sharply, rolling her shoulders back, secretly yearning for more. She—
Bang.
From the other side of the wall the main door slammed and heavily booted feet tromped across the floor.
Lilly panicked, snapping the open flaps of her bodice closed. “Oh, my god! That could be my father.”
Davy jerked backward, the stern mask instantly petrifying his face. “Hell.” He quickly strode to the inner door of his office, silently striking the lock.
“Who is out there?” Lilly whispered furtively, thoroughly embarrassed as she realized just how far their unbridled kiss had gone.
“How should I know?” Davy whispered irritably. He pivoted to face her and stopped short. For a long moment he did nothing but stare, a hungry gleam turning his gaze to a slow burning blue flame as he took in her disheveled form with obvious appreciation. “If that is your father I suggest we get you put back together with all haste.”
Lilly rolled her eyes, and drew a wobbly breath, turning her attention to the clasps lining her bodice. “Blast,” she muttered. Her fingers shook so violently she couldn’t manage the tiny buttons.
“Allow me.” Davy moved in on her, gently removing her hands from the front of the gown. He deftly fastened the clasps. A heated flush crept into her cheeks and she avoided his direct gaze. “I’m sorry.” He lingered for a moment, the warmth of his intoxicating breath in her hair. “I shouldn’t have taken liberties.”
Disappointment dampened the residual excitement of their fiery embrace. She hardened her nerves, searching for some witty repartee.
Without warning Davy stepped forward once again, leaning in until there was little more than a finger’s breadth between them. “I’m not really sorry,” he whispered, a hint of mischief lacing his tone. Her eyes widened and her pulse skipped. His hands circled her waist and he lifted her to the floor.
Lilly gulped, craning her neck to peer into his face. He was so tall!
She’d always known he was a variable giant, had become more aware of the fact in just the last week, but in this moment of intimacy—his hands upon her, her hair flowing wildly about her head—she was more aware of his towering, powerful frame than ever before. The top of her head did not even reach the hollow of his throat… her mouth dried… something about that was terribly erotic.
Davy took a step back at last averting his gaze, and stalk
ed to the window. Lilly took full advantage, distancing herself from him further, and twisted her hair into what she hoped was a passable coiffure.
“You’re not to be left alone,” Davy said, flipping into his efficient militaristic mode. “Give me an hour to speak with your father and see to organizing deputies and a couple of soldiers to act as guards. Then I’ll take you home and I expect you to stay there.” He raked a hand through his wavy locks. “That bastard will not come near you.”
“No, David, you cannot be obvious about posting guards. If I’m truly the killer’s target, I should go about my daily business so we can trap him.”
The muscles in his jaw set stubbornly. “No. You are going home if I have to hog tie and drag you there.”
“Davy, this is the best chance for catching the killer we have.” Lilly implored. “You can have deputies watching me every minute and I will never be in any real danger. We need to do this.”
“We don’t need to do anything. The fact you don’t believe you’ll be in danger proves you’re too naïve to be involved in this affair.”
“I’m already involved, Davy, and whether you like it or not, I’m already in danger.” She stalked forward, stabbing a finger into his chest. “You have an opportunity to catch a killer of women before he strikes again. Do you mean to squander that?”
David glowered down at Lilly. “I will not knowingly put any woman in danger.”
A flash of understanding lit within her. Beneath the condescending attitude she glimpsed such vulnerability the whole of her soul ached. He was always so overprotective of women. “I’m not your wife, Davy,” she said quietly, intuitively. “I have no intention of dying on you.”
* * *
Lilly’s words speared David like an ice stake to the heart. Cold flushed through his veins, withering his anger like wildflowers in winter. His gaze locked with hers and his gut twisted painfully. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to take her back in his arms, bury her from the world, and protect her from harm. Davy took her face in his hands, smoothing his thumbs along her cheeks. He stared down into her powdery blue eyes, so clear and earnest, that a bit of the rust on his heartstrings washed away. He could not deny how perfect Lily had fit in his embrace. Better than anything he’d imagined. He didn’t know where it came from but suddenly it was Lilly he needed, Lilly who infused his heart and soul with hope. Even as panic raced through his head he could not let that go.