Another Dawn

by Sandra Brown

  Aggravated with herself for remembering so vividly what he had obviously forgotten, she lashed out. "You could at least have taken off your chaps before coming to the dinner table."

  "Do they bother you?"-

  Yes, they homered her, but not in the way he meant. "Oh, leave them on. I don't care."

  "No, no," he said gratingly. He wrestled with the buckle, then yanked at the lacings around his legs. "I don't want to upset the princess."

  He tossed the chaps on the floor by the back door and flung himself into a chair at the table. Banner ground her fists into her hips as she glowered at him. "Why are you being so mean to me? Didn't last night mean anything to you? Hasn't this week changed things between us?"

  He stared at her incredulously. "Me? You wouldn't even look at me this morning."

  "Because you wouldn't look at me. You were short tempered and grouchy. You acted like you wished I would just disappear."

  "Now just a minute," he came back angrily, "you were acting like you were ashamed of having me in your bed. I'm sure you think you've been dirtied, that the Princess of River Bend has lowered herself by sleeping beside one of fee hired hands."

  Fury engulfed her and made her eyes spark. "Oh!" She stamped her foot. "You are the most infuriating man. I could kill you for being so stupid. I love you, Jake Langston. I love you."

  Tears glistened like diamonds in her eyes. Her body quivered with emotion as she stood ramrod straight with her hands still planted firmly on her hips. She looked more gorgeous than ever and desire speared through Jake like a white-hot brand.

  With one swift motion his arm shot out, caught her around the waist, and pulled her forward. His arms locked around her and he pillowed his head between her breasts. "Do you, Banner? Do you?" His voice had a serrated edge. It came from the depths of his soul, working its way up through years of disillusionment and despair, hopelessness and bitterness, self-recrimination and regret.

  She bent over him, sheltering him with her hair. Her arms clasped his dear head and held it tight. "Yes, yes. Are you blind, Jake? Hou could you not have known?"

  His head came up and if his incisive eyes had ever demanded the truth from anyone, they did so now. He saw it shimmering in the tigerish depths of her eyes. His hand cupped the back of her head. He embedded his fingers in her hair and pulled her head down for a kiss that seared their souls. It was hard, almost brutal in its passion.

  "Banner, Banner." He tore his mouth free and nestled his face beneath her chin. His mouth worked its way down. Hot and moist, it moved over her skin. He pulled free the tie belt of her dressing gown and, laying his hands over her breasts, moved the silk aside. She was wearing a chemise beneath the robe. The sheer cloth did nothing to hide her loveliness. I Her breasts with their dusky crowns beckoned to him, ] thrusting against the fabric in brazen invitation.

  He touched her, moving his hands over her front in an attitude of reverence, but too wildly to be religious. His head rutted against her, like a child seeking sustenance. Her body responded. She arched her back and offered herself up for his seeking mouth. It scoured her, rubbing, gently gnawing, nuzzling, kissing randomly with a pagan hunger.

  She raised one of her knees to the rim of the chair seat and pressed it to his groin. She ground it lightly against his erection and he nearly vaulted out of the chair.

  Tongue flicking, he touched the tip of one breast and a bolt of lightning shimmied through her. Her head fell back on her shoulders; her hair swung down her back. It was as free and untamed as the hands that opened the tiny pearl buttons of her chemise.

  He worked a magic on her breasts with his mouth. His hands slipped inside her robe and cupped her derriere. He urged her closer and she responded. He nipped at her waist with his teeth.

  Jake steadied her as he rose from the chair and slipped the dressing gown off. It fell unheeded to the floor. He swept her into his arms and carried her through the twilit house into the bedroom made rosy by the sunset.

  He laid her on the bed with a carefulness that was belied by the way he tore off his shirt and vest and hurled them to the floor. His boots were kicked aside as he worked his feet free of them. He unbuttoned his pants and came to her, lying beside her, facing her, and drawing her precious body to his.

  Their mouths met in another fiery kiss. He caressed his way down her side and lifted the hem of her chemise. Her thigh was smooth beneath his palm.

  Banner rolled on her back. She reached for his hand and lowered it over herself, cupping his palm to fit the feminine delta.

  "My God," he whispered, squeezing his eyes closed. He felt an urgent need to confess his small transgression. "The other morning..."

  "Yes?"

  "When I woke up..."

  "I know."

  His eyes came open and rained blue fire over her. "You knew?" She nodded. "I swear I didn't do it on purpose, Banner. I guess I just reached for you in the night and..." She stilled the flow of words by laying three fingers against his lips. "Why didn't you say something?"

  "I thought I was dreaming."

  "I thought I was too."

  "What would have happened if I hadn't been sick and if you had known I was awake?"

  "Like now, you mean?"

  '"Yes, like now."

  His hand wedged itself between her thighs. They eased apart. His fingers began to move. He separated and probed, lightly and gently, until he found her wet and warm. She sighed his name.

  He lowered his head and covered the peak of her breast with his mouth. His fingers, sliding inside her, were as deft as his tongue on her nipple. Together they caressed until she was twisting restlessly, her legs sawing against his. He moved carefully, positioning himself between her thighs.

  Her eyes were hazy, but they opened to gaze deeply into his when she felt the tip of his manhood breaching the petals of her sex. "Tell me if I hurt you." She nodded her head.

  He penetrated her.

  Then her eyelids sank closed. The emotions were too riotous to contain. Jake filled her, Jake, Jake hard and thick and warm and smooth. Moving. Stroking.

  He whispered instructions. She complied and felt even more of him. Of their own accord, her hands moved to his hips, his buttocks. She slid them inside his clothing. The sleek muscles rippled against the palms of her hands as his body rhythmically pumped into hers.

  Jake gritted his teeth against reaching his peak too soon. He watched Banner's face, loving the rapture he saw there. He absolved himself of taking an untutored virgin before. This was a woman, his woman, moving with him, responding, quickening beneath him even as, against his control, he felt his own climax rushing toward him.

  Banner's eyes opened wide and clutched at his back. She called his name in a moment of panic as her body tightened around his. He reached as deep as he could, scaling the very gate of her womb.

  "Yes, yes, yes," he chanted as he felt her body shudder. His own release was long and scalding and splendid.

  TWENTY-TWO

  "You liar." When she opened her eyes, they were deeply green, but alight with gold flecks.

  "What?" he laughed.

  "You said you were no larger than other men."

  "No, I didn't. I said it was none of your business."

  "You're huge," she whispered.

  "Who are you comparing me to?" he asked, scowling.

  She laughed gustily and he winced. He couldn't bring himself to leave her yet. He was still snugly burrowed in that silken sheath. "No wonder all the ladies talk about you."

  His face became serious. "I've never been with a lady before you."

  Her voice dropped to a mere breath. "You're a legend at making love."

  He kissed her softly. "And this is the first time I've ever made love."

  Eyes tearing, she reached up to touch his face, his mouth. "Is it always like this the second time?"

  "It's never like this, Banner. Never before."

  He bent his head to kiss her again and, despite her protesting groan, eased himself away from he
r and rolled to his side. Their eyes met and locked across the pillow. His fingers lightly plucked at the buttons on her chemise. "You're beautiful, Banner Coleman."

  "So are you, Jake Langston "

  Self-effacingly he shook his head. "I'm old and beat-up, scrawny as a scarecrow. A saddle tramp."

  She leaned forward and kissed him softly. "Not to me. You've always been my Lancelot."

  "Who's he?" One white eyebrow cocked.

  She traced its arch with her fingertip and laughed softly. "You'll have to read about him sometime. But I assure you, you'll be pleased with the comparison."

  Then her smile turned into a frown. Lancelot had loved the king's wife. Would Jake still love Lydia after tonight? Banner pushed the thought away. She wouldn't let anything distress her tonight. Jake was here, loving her, accepting her love. For now that was enough.

  She touched his shining hair. "It makes me angry for you to talk about yourself that way."

  "What way?"

  "Old and scrawny. You're not. You're beautiful. And why do you say you're a saddle tramp?"

  He looked away, uneasy. "I don't think too much of myself."

  "But why?"

  He shifted, putting one arm behind his head and gazing at the ceiling. It all happened a long time ago, Banner. In another lifetime. You don't want to hear about it."

  "Yes, I do."

  He turned his head, caught the love so evident in her eyes, and sighed. She would probably think less of him than he did himself when he told her, but it was better to destroy her image of him now rather than later. He had kept things to himself all these years. With her, at this moment, he felt compelled to talk about them, get them off his chest once and for all.

  "I lost my virginity and my brother on the same day. It was my fault that Luke was killed."

  Banner lay quietly, unmoving. Jake sought her face to gauge her reaction. When she returned his gaze steadily, he expounded.

  "Priscilla had me pegged from the day we started out on that wagon train. I was sixteen and randy as a spring bull."

  Calmly, tonelessly, he related the story of how Priscilla had worked him into a sexual frenzy that summer, taunting and tempting him. "One afternoon I bribed Luke to do my chores and sneaked off to meet her. When I came back to the train hours later, my Ma lit into me. She asked me where Luke and I had been. Then Moses came into the circle of wagons carrying my brother in his arms. His throat had been cut."

  A tear rolled down Banner's cheek. Still she didn't speak. Jake was opening himself up to her as he never had to anyone else. Now was the time to remain silent. He desperately needed someone to listen. Neither to condemn nor to commiserate. Only to listen.

  "I've had to live with that all these years. If I hadn't been diddling Priscilla, my brother would probably still be alive."

  He rolled to a sitting position and draped his arms over his raised knees. "I know you and everybody else think I've been one of Priscilla's studs. The fact of it is, I haven't touched her. I took her a few times after that day, but every time I did, I hated myself more.

  "We parted company when the train broke up and I didn't see her again for years. I met up with her in Fort Worth when I was passing through on a long drive. It didn't surprise me to find her working in a whorehouse. She wanted to pick up where we left off. But every time I look at her, all I can see is Luke's face, dead, pale, with his shirt stained brown with blood."

  He came off the bed and went to the vanity, pouring himself a glass of water from the pitcher and wishing it were whiskey. "That's not all of it. You might as well hear the rest. I found out who murdered Luke."

  He paused in his tale. This is where he and Lydla had formed such an unbreakable bond. His brother's killer had been her stepbrother, her rapist, her tormentor. Jake had settled the score on both accounts. "I killed him, knifed him in an alley and took pleasure in doing it. I was sixteen years old. Sixteen," he said through clenched teeth.

  His head dropped forward. Banner, heedless of her recent surgery, lunged off the bed and came to stand behind him. When he heard her, he whirled around. "That's the kind of man you just took to your bed,'' he said, pointing toward it.

  "And I'm not sorry for it. The man you killed deserved to die."

  "Did Luke?"

  "That wasn't your fault! You weren't responsible. A bizarre set of circumstances, coincidence. You can't carry that guilt with you the rest of your life."

  Couldn't he? Hadn't he for almost twenty years? And for every day of that time, he had scorned women too. He had punished each and every one he had ever encountered for Priscilla's part in Luke's murder.

  Until tonight.

  Banner wasn't cringing from him in revulsion, but looking up at him with understanding and love. Her body had cleansed him when he hadn't felt clean since that first fateful afternoon with Priscilla Watkins.

  "There were others, Banner. Two. Men with names and faces and I killed them."

  "Tell me about them."

  "One of them killed a friend of mine. He was a wet-behind-the-ears kid on his first cattle drive. I had taken him under my wing. He reminded me of Luke. This other guy was a bully. He beat the kid to a pulp for stumbling and spilling coffee on his bedroll. The boy must have been bleeding on the inside. He died later that night. I fought with his killer. Fought him for what seemed like hours. Finally I... I broke his neck."

  Banner laid a hand on his chest. "And the other?"

  "The other was a gambler in Kansas City who had cheated me and nearly every other cowboy out of his pay. He suckered us into poker games, let us win a few hands and then bled us dry by cheating. I challenged him to a gunfight. He drew on me. I was faster."

  He stared down at the woman standing close to him. A bitter smile curled one corner of his mouth. "So there you have it. The sordid, sorry life of Jake Langston."

  Boldly she wrapped her arms around him and rested her cheek against his chest. "Those men were hurting other people, Jake. You're no killer."

  Taking her arms, he pushed her away. "But don't you see? I might do it again, if I deemed it necessary."

  "I would expect you to. I would expect my father to. I don't know if he's ever killed anyone before, but I know he would if he felt it was justified."

  "Is it ever justified?"

  "Yes," Banner said with soft emphasis. "Yes, Jake. I believe sometimes it is."

  He hugged her to him then and buried his face in her hair. "I don't know if we're right or wrong, Banner, but thank you for saying that."

  "I'm not saying it just because I think it's what you want to hear. I think all of us are capable of violence if provoked. You killed in defense of your family and friends."

  "I've never even told Ma."

  "Maybe you should. She's wise, Jake. She would know what to say better than I do." She reached up and framed his face between her hands. "But I know she loves you and would go on loving you no matter what you've done. And so do I."

  He brushed her hair away from her cheek. "I feel better having told you."

  "I'm glad." She rubbed his back, opening her hands wide over the smooth skin and pressing her fingers into the firm flesh.

  He bent down and found her mouth with his. His kiss thanked her. Why he had been able to tell Banner things he couldn't tell anyone else, he didn't know. He had opened his heart and the words he had found so difficult to say before had come pouring out. He felt a freedom he hadn't felt since that summer he had lost his innocence. And he had found hope again in the tiny package of womanhood who snuggled against him trustingly.

  "You didn't get any supper."

  She laughed. "It was interrupted, wasn't it?"

  "You won't hear me complaining."

  "Me either," she said just as his mouth covered hers for another kiss.

  When they pulled apart, she said, "I appreciate your gallantry, but I know you're hungry. And it would be a shame to let all that food go to waste."

  "Come on." He lightly smacked her on the bottom, and led he
r from the bedroom.

  * * *

  "Is there more than one way?"

  Banner lifted shy eyes across the table which was littered with the meal they had just finished. She moistened the tip of her finger and pressed it against the cookie crumbs on her plate. When they were collected, she licked them off her finger.

  Jake watched in affectionate amusement and growing arousal. She had rebuttoned her chemise, but had chosen not to put her dressing gown back on. Several times during the meal, he had found it hard to swallow while looking at her. "More than one way to what?"

  "You know what I mean."

  He grinned. "What do you think?"

  "I don't know," she said, saucily tossing her hair over her shoulder. "How could I? You've been my only lover."

  Reaching across the table, his grin faded.

  His thumb massaged the back of her hand as his eyes held hers. "I'm sorry about that first night, Banner. I should have been easier with you. I tried but..." He shrugged helplessly. "You took me by storm."

  She leaned forward, loving the way the light reflected off his eyebrows and cast the rest of his face into shadow. "And now?"

  "You take me by storm," he whispered roughly.

  Leaving her chair, she rounded the table. He moved his chair back and made room for her to sit on his lap. One of her arms draped around his shoulders, the other hand sifted through his hair. He encircled her waist with one arm. The other hand once again unbuttoned her chemise and covered a breast. It was still flushed from their recent loving.

  They kissed long and leisurely, tasting each other, drinking their fill. When Banner drew away she tweaked at clumps of his chest hair. He had worn his shirt to the table, but had left it unbuttoned. She moved the cloth aside, never wanting that magnificent chest to be hidden from her view again.