A Wanton Woman: Mail Order Bride of Slate Springs

by Vanessa Vale

  “I want children, too,” he admitted. “But love?” Shrugging his shoulders, I knew he was jaded. “That’s for you. She deserves it and you’ll give it to her. This works perfectly for me.”

  I angled my head toward the emptying train.

  Walker shrugged. “We have to hope.”

  The bulk of the passengers had left the platform and had moved quickly into the warm station. Only a few years old, it was an impressive structure, a sign that Denver was booming. I didn’t care for the city. Too many people, too much noise. The only reason I was here was for—

  Her.

  She was walking toward us, eyeing the Bible. I should have approached her, asked her name and grabbed the small bag she held. But I couldn’t. I just stared. And stared as if my feet had frozen to the ground.

  “Fuck.” I heard Walker mumble under his breath as he took her in as well. It seemed my brother had the same intense—and instant—attraction for her. “Look at her,” he whispered.

  Yes, we were truly fucked, for Mrs. Celia Lawrence was everything I could have imagined in a bride. Petite, her curves couldn’t be hidden beneath her light jacket. Her pale hair was up and tucked beneath a prim hat. The lanterns that lit the platform from the dusk set her skin to a warm gold. Her cheeks were flushed from the cold and I could see that her pale eyes were wary and hopeful at the same time. She stilled when she shifted her gaze away from the Bible and onto me, but she tilted up her chin and took another step closer.

  She was… fuck, incredible. Lovely. Dainty. Shy. Daring. I wanted her. Instantly and desperately. My cock hardened and I was thankful my coat hid the reaction. She was my bride.

  She was mine. Mine!

  Walker had his wits about him, unlike me, for he moved around me to approach her. “Mrs. Lawrence?” he asked.

  She looked up at him, a frown forming in her brow. “Yes. Mr. Tate?”

  Her soft voice had me moving. Finally. I was fucking it all up and I hadn’t even said a word. She was just too… perfect and I felt as if I’d been hit on the head with a support beam from the mine. I cleared my throat and joined the two, removing my hat. “I’m Luke Tate, ma’am.”

  She glanced at the Bible once more, then up at my face. Way up. I was so much taller; she only came up to my shoulder. She offered me a small smile, but I could tell it took effort. I was a big man, and a stranger at that. She was very brave to travel so far on her own, to be wed to a complete stranger. No, two strangers. I’d just met her and I was very proud of her. I wanted to take away the wariness and replace it with… hell, what would she look like when I made her come the first time? I’d find out soon enough if my cock had any say.

  “It is… nice to meet you. Please, call me Celia.” Her voice was deep and sultry, a complete surprise and made my cock hard.

  A shiver shook her small frame.

  “Where is your coat?” I asked. Pushing the Bible into Walker’s chest, I stripped off mine and wrapped it about her shoulders.

  Her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip and I was transfixed. “I don’t have one. It is not this cold in Texas.”

  Her voice had a slight accent to it, a slight twang that spoke of how far she’d traveled.

  The cold air hit my torso and I could only imagine how chilled she’d been.

  Smiling, she held the oversized garment together at the front. It was so large that it hung down to past her knees. It would keep her warm in the short term.

  “Didn’t Mrs. Carstairs from the agency tell you your destination was Colorado?” The woman at the mail order bride service should have advised her of something as simple as winter wardrobe.

  She lifted her shoulders and almost snuggled into the garment. “Yes, of course. But no shops in Tyler have coats like this. It is too warm year round for such items in Texas.” She glanced about and took in the snow that had been shoveled into piles to clear the platform. “I have never even seen snow before.”

  I looked at the old snow, crusty hard from the top being melted by the sun and then frozen at night, gray from the soot and ash from the trains. This patch was far from remarkable. When we were home, she would know snow. Perhaps even become quite sick of it before the season ended.

  “Come, let’s get out of the cold then,” Walker said.

  Realizing I had yet to introduce her to her other husband, I felt even more of a bumbling fool. “May I present my brother, Walker?”

  She didn’t know he was also her husband and the train platform was not where I wanted to enlighten her. The last thing I wanted to do was scare her right back on the train. No fucking way. She was here, she was mine and I was not letting her go.

  With his hands full, he did not remove his hat, only tipped it with his fingers as he held the Bible. “Ma’am.”

  We turned toward the station, working our way down the long platform. At an icy spot, I took her elbow and guided her around. “Careful,” I warned.

  If she had never seen snow, I had to doubt she’d encountered ice before. I did not need my bride breaking something within five minutes of her arrival. I could barely feel her through the thickness of my coat, but I had my hand on her and that was a start.

  Once inside the warm station, I stopped. Walker stood to her side so that we blocked out the noise and crowds behind us. “Are you hungry?” I asked.

  “Tired?” Walker added.

  She laughed then, deep and throaty, as she looked between the two of us. “I am not used to such attentions. From one man, let alone two.”

  She would get used to it soon enough, but not here. Union Station was not where I wanted to show her my attentions, or that she’d be getting them from Walker, too. When she learned she was married to both of us, I didn’t know how she would react, although I had to assume with great surprise. While being married to two men was legal in Slate Springs, it was not elsewhere. Especially in a large town like Denver.

  Glancing between us, she replied, “I am both.”

  Both? Oh yes, hungry and tired.

  Nodding, I looked her over from her stylish hat to her spun gold hair, her lovely oval face, full lips, flushed cheeks. My coat hid her fashionable dress, but it had been crisp and fresh, even after her journey, her hair neat. She was concerned for her appearance, but did not seem vain. “We will return to the hotel then where you may rest and eat.”

  “Your town is too far to travel to now?”

  Walker looked up at the large clock on the wall above the ticket counter. Five-fifteen. “Slate Springs is in the mountains, over a day’s ride from here. The weather is good so the pass remains open, but we expect it to be snowed in before the new year. We do not need to push ourselves to return tonight, for while it is clear, it is very dark. As you said, you do not have the proper clothing. Tomorrow is soon enough.”

  Yes, I wasn’t spending the first night with her—it couldn’t be called a wedding night as we were already proxy married—on the back of a horse. I wanted her on her back and me over her. “We have a room at a hotel down the street,” I added, shifting because I had to hide my hard cock.

  “Pass?” she asked as she looked behind her one last time before we led her out of the station to the busy street. Horses and wagons filled the thoroughfare.

  I tucked my hat back onto my head. While the air was frigid, it did nothing to cool my ardor. Nothing would, not until I was buried deep inside her and filling her with my seed. Even then, I’d want her again. I was absolutely sure of that.

  “The road to Slate Springs follows a canyon up into the mountains to the west of here. It goes so high that it is snowed in for the winter. Denver is on this side of the pass, our town on the other.”

  She slowed her pace but did not stop walking as we continued down the sidewalk toward our hotel. “You mean we will be isolated?”

  I glanced at Walker, but could not tell his expression with it being dark and his face in shadow beneath the brim of his hat. Many people had difficulties being in a town that was cut off from the rest of the world. T
he snow and cold was sometimes too much for people to handle. By the time spring thaw came, many men had turned slightly insane. Thus the new law. If the men had their beds warmed and a family to care for, they might find the long winters much easier to pass.

  “That’s right,” Walker said. While Celia couldn’t tell his words were guarded, as his brother, I could hear it plain as day. “Once the snow comes in earnest, the town is cut off until spring.”

  “What if it had been snowed in earlier than usual? Would I have been stuck here in Denver while you, Mr. Tate, remained on the other side of the pass?”

  Her question was unexpected. I feared she would be concerned about being trapped in a small town with us, not trapped without us. I stopped on the sidewalk, tilted her chin up with my fingers. Her skin was soft, like silk, yet chilled from the cold. Her eyes met mine. “Luke. Call me Luke. We would never leave you alone like that,” I replied, my voice gentle. “We have been in Denver three days waiting for you, considering just such an occurrence.”

  Her eyes widened. “You… you have?”

  It was the surprise in her voice that kept me from responding, for I knew there was much to learn about her from that alone.

  “We’ve been waiting for you, Celia,” I told her. All my life. I just didn’t know it.

  “Let’s get out of the cold.”

  I glanced at Walker as we turned toward the hotel once more. Neither of us would leave our bride alone in a big city as we waited for spring thaw, stuck in Slate Springs. If anything, we’d remain on the east side of the pass with her. With her.

  What kind of marriage did she have before? Why was she so amazed we had been concerned? I wanted to know the answer, but not on the street. While I was big enough to keep warm in just my shirt, and the temperatures in the city were much warmer than at home, I did not think our bride could tolerate the chill for long until she became accustomed. Even then, she was a tiny thing and we needed to be cautious. If my toes were turning cold, then certainly hers were as well in her thinner shoes. Some new clothes more suited for the winter weather were our first purchases. But as I glanced down at her as we continued on, watching the gentle sway of her hips, seeing the long line of her elegant neck, I was just as eager to see her out of clothes entirely.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Celia

  “This is impressive.”

  There weren’t any other words for the suite Luke had at the hotel. I’d only come through the door, but the space was opulent. Thick rugs covered hard wood, dark red velvet curtains hung at the tall windows and also covered the chairs and couches that faced a crackling fire. I could see into two additional rooms, their doors across from each other. Large beds were centered in each, one even had a canopy. This wasn’t a simple hotel room to waylay until our departure in the morning. This showed wealth. It appeared my husband had money. Lots of it.

  I should be reassured that I would not be married to a pauper, but I knew that money did not offer happiness. Certainly a full belly and warm clothes, but I’d known both of those with John and I’d been so very unhappy. I would hold judgement on Luke, for now.

  I watched as he removed his hat and placed it on a table by the door. He wore the usual men’s uniform of dark suit, white shirt and black tie, but it seemed to fit him better than most and only accented his broad shoulders and thick chest. He turned and took his coat from my shoulders and caught me studying him. The heavy outer garment had kept me well protected from the cold and allowed his enticing scent to envelop me. Something dark and manly. Not a heavy tonic like John would have used, but a natural scent, clean and sharp. I breathed in the last remnants of it as I followed him to the couch before the fire.

  I took the moment that was offered for one more surreptitious look. He was tall, so very big. I only came up to his shoulder and it should have felt imposing to have to tilt my chin back to meet his gaze, but that was not the case. Every time he spoke with me at the station and out on the street, he’d been close, perhaps a little closer than was appropriate for a man, but he was my husband. It hadn’t felt awkward. Instead, I felt… protected.

  Butterflies fluttered in my belly as I looked at him. His fair hair was short and neatly trimmed. His eyes, so fair and yet intense, were beneath a strong brow. His nose seemed to have a slight crook to it, as if it had been broken at one time. While it appeared he had shaved earlier in the day, whiskers dusted his square jaw and I wondered if it would feel raspy against my palm.

  The entire journey from Texas I’d wondered and fretted as to the man to whom I’d been matched. Would he be just like John—a well-respected man with absolutely no conscience or values? I hadn’t had to share much of my past with Mrs. Carstairs at the establishment that matched men to mail order brides. My past had preceded me certainly, but women who came to her had varied reasons for wanting to be sent to marry a stranger. I was sure she’d heard it all, even a story like mine. The underlying reason though was most likely the same. Desperation.

  I had been desperate to escape Texas the only way a woman with no money or job could. That did not mean I hadn’t been wary and doubting my choice for the thousand miles it took to arrive in Denver. The relief of finding Luke visually appealing was a start; however, John had been an attractive man, educated too, but a philanderer, so that did not allay all of my concerns. Only time would tell if Luke was the same.

  I was wary about my attraction to him. It was instant. The moment I saw him on the station platform holding the Bible, I’d been interested. Intrigued. Immediately overwhelmed. Newfound desire had coursed through me, heating me at just the sight of him. I’d shivered when I stood before the two men. It hadn’t been from cold, but the heavy feel of their attentions on me. Yes, both of them. It wasn’t just Luke that had made me feel… curious, but his brother, Walker, too.

  He’d been just as attentive as Luke, just as solicitous. His hair and eyes were dark, but it was obvious that they were brothers. Even in physique they were different; Walker was a touch taller and leaner. While Luke had offered a soft smile that softened the look in his eyes, Walker appeared to be more of a brooder. Intense, but no less kind.

  But it was Luke who approached me now; Walker had not come to the suite with us. My heart leapt into my throat with the realization that this handsome man was my husband. Mine, and he would soon touch me, hopefully in a way I’d wanted for so long.

  Without saying a word, he lifted his hands to my head, removed my hat. I breathed in his clean scent and tried to calm my racing heart. Blunt fingers ran over my hair, then tugged the pins from my prim bun.

  “I’ve been wanting to see your hair down, to feel it,” he murmured, his eyes on his ministrations.

  I held myself still and let him touch me. Once all the pins were removed, my hair uncoiled and spilled long down my back. It was unruly, with a wayward curl to it. Luke grunted out what I had to hope was satisfaction as he ran his fingers through the strands. My eyes fell closed at the decadent feel of it.

  “Like spun gold,” he murmured. When he gently placed his hands on my shoulders, I looked up at him and watched as his eyes lowered to my mouth. “I’m going to kiss you.”

  “Yes,” I breathed, my heart beginning to gallop like a runaway horse. I wanted that so very much.

  His lips were gentle and soft. Only for a moment. Then the kiss turned carnal and deep, his tongue slipping into my mouth as I gasped. The kiss was startling, for it was like instant heat. Desire pulsed through my veins and settled between my thighs. My hands took hold of his shirt and gripped tightly as his own hands cupped my face. His palms were callused, but warm.

  I had no idea how long we stood there before the fire, but Luke eventually lifted his head and I whimpered. His eyes were a dark green, narrowed and clouded with need.

  I couldn’t catch my breath.

  “This suite has a washroom. A tub with hot water.” His eyes stayed fixed on my swollen lips. “Bathe. Relax, for when you come out, I will have you well occupied.”

>   “You… you don’t have to wait,” I said. My voice was unfamiliar, breathy and eager as I admitted my needs.

  The corner of his mouth tipped up as his knuckles raked over my cheek. “So brave,” he said with a groan. “I am not denying you. Quite the contrary. I only have so much control, sweetheart.” He tilted his chin in the direction of the washroom. “I wish for you to scrub the journey from your skin, to take a minute to yourself before I possess you.”

  Possess. Oh God. Not take, or claim or even fuck. Possess was… more. So much more.

  Offering a wobbly nod, I turned to the bathing room.

  “Celia,” he called.

  I looked at him over my shoulder.

  “When you are done, don’t dress.” His eyes slid down my body and I felt my nipples tighten. “I want to see you. All of you.”

  My cheeks heated then. He wanted to look at me, to see me bare and exposed. I should have been fearful, but it only made me… eager. If it had been anyone else who’d made such a blatant statement, I would have been mortified and appalled and fearful. But with Luke, I felt… God, aroused and eager to please.

  The man was virile and dominant and yet he waited for me to accept his expectation. If I didn’t, I knew somehow that he’d be gentle instead. But this was what he wanted, what he needed and would not hide that. It only made me more eager for him.

  Licking my lips, I nodded and went into the other room. Leaning against the door, I caught my breath. That had just been a kiss and I was so aroused. Could I survive more?

  There was no question that he wanted me, that he would take me. Did he know that when he stopped, when he offered me a chance to bathe, it only made me more eager for him? I’d think of nothing but the kiss, of him seeing me naked for the first time. For other things. The wait was arousing.