Sweetwater Seduction

by Johnston, Joan

  She glared at him. “If you're well enough to be up and out riding around, you're well enough to check back into the Townhouse Hotel.”

  He chucked her playfully under the chin. “I couldn't do that without letting everyone know I'm still alive. And then I'd lose the element of surprise. I'll be staying here until I know who set me up for that amb

  “I don't want you here.”

  “But you won't throw me out. Because if you do, people will start asking where I've been. And then I'll have to tell them.”

  It was a threat, and a good one, and she was appalled to hear him voice it. “You wouldn't dare!”

  “Try me.” He wasn't about to give up the opportunity to learn more about Miss Eden Devlin afforded him by living under her roof. Besides, the element of surprise really was useful in the job he had ahead of him.

  As soon as Kerrigan was gone from the kitchen, Miss Devlin became aware that her face was flaming. Then she realized that what she actually felt was more of a burning sensation. As she touched the tender skin around her mouth, it dawned on her what had happened.

  She quickly dampened a cloth and pressed it against her stinging chin, where Kerrigan's prickly growth of beard had abraded her skin when he kissed her. She hurried into the living room to make out her reflection in the beveled glass front of her china cabinet. Her chin and cheeks looked blotchy. What if the red marks stayed? It was obvious what had caused them. How in the world would she explain them?

  Her mind was in a turmoil. She paced back and forth in the parlor, moving the cool cloth from spot to spot as the stinging eased. At last she lay down on the sofa and put the cool cloth on her forehead.

  He wasn't going to leave.

  It had been bad enough having the man in her house when he was in no condition to be a threat to her. But that was no longer true. He had made advances to her, undaunted by either the fact she was a spinster or that she was being courted by a beau. He had as good as promised he would seduce her before he was done. He was only going to get stronger, be more dangerous.

  Eden wanted nothing so much as to throw him out of her house. But she hadn't. His threat had seen to that. She should have been furious. She should have been anguished. Instead she felt . . . confused.

  Because, unfortunately, there was a part of her that didn't want him to leave, a part of her that didn't want to say no to his entreaties. That part of her yearned for the touch of his hands, yearned for the feel of his body covering hers. That part of her had sought out the danger to be found in loving a gunslinger—like a moth sought flame.

  Miss Devlin ran her tongue across her puffy lips and shivered. She still tasted him there. He was nothing but trouble. She could handle his taunts without trying to prove him wrong. He wasn't going to goad her into doing something she knew was wrong for her. The sooner he was gone and out of her life, the better.

  She touched her raw chin and flinched when she thought of the accusations he had hurled. She had made a perfectly rational decision not to fall in love. She was afraid—with good reason—to trust her feelings to a man who lived a life of violence. It was better not to love at all, than to know your love was doomed from the start.

  Kerrigan made all her fears seem foolish. After all, she was no longer a child without choices. She did not have to let the past rule her life. Loving a man was a big step to take. And yes, she was tempted to take it. Was it the thrill of the forbidden? Was that why she found the thought of loving the gunslinger so irresistible? The feel of his lips on hers, the touch of his callused hands on her skin, the delicious taste of him . . . She moaned.

  Kerrigan had shaved and dressed and then taken the time to clean and load Sundance's gun before he strapped it on. It hung just right on his hip and the Colt slipped smooth as silk from the polished leather when he practiced his draw.

  When he returned to the parlor, he found Miss Devlin stretched out on the sofa with a cloth over her forehead. When she moaned he said, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  She sat up abruptly and the damp cloth fell into her lap. Kerrigan was standing before her dressed in her father's trousers, a black shirt, calfskin vest, and buckskin coat. He wore the Navy Colt in the holster, which was tied down on his right leg. “The clothes fit,” she murmured.

  “Surprisingly well.”

  Here was the source of all her consternation, looking so handsome now that he was clean-shaven again . . . and so concerned. Well, she wasn't going to let her emotions get involved, no matter how concerned he seemed. Her heart was not going to rule her head. She stood up, grabbed the damp cloth in one fist, and shook it angrily in his face. “What you can do for me is get out of my house and never come back.”

  “I like the sparkle in your eyes when you're angry.”

  “Stop that.”

  “And I find your trembling lips very tempting.”

  “Go away.”

  “I'm waiting for the moment I can enjoy your fiery red hair spread across my pillow.”

  She pointed toward the door. “Get out!”

  He grinned and started for the front door. “I'll see you later.”

  “I don't want to see you ever again.”

  He turned to face her. “I'll be back. And we'll finish what we started.”

  “When pigs fly!”

  He pointed out the front window at a large gray snow cloud. “I think I see one now.”

  Before she could think of a suitable (intelligent) reply, he was gon

  Chapter 12

  It ain't no time to smoke when

  you're a' sittin' on an open keg of powder.

  HADLEY TURNED TO BLISS AND SLIPPED THE SIMPLE gold band on her finger. “It belonged to my great-aunt Martha,” he said solemnly. “My father gave it to me when I turned sixteen and said it was for my wife. And now you are.” He turned back to the preacher. “Isn't she?”

  “

  She sure is,” the elderly man replied. “And a right pretty one, too. Don't know as I approve of you two youngsters tying the knot without family here to witness, but under the . . . circumstances you mentioned . . . I suppose this is for the best.” “We love each other, sir,” Hadley said. “You don't have to worry about us. We'll be fine.”

  “I truly hope you're right, young man,” the preacher said. “I don't understand why you had to come all the way here to Canyon Creek to get married, if, as you say, your parents don't have any objection to the match.”

  “We had our reasons,” Hadley said. “That's all you have to know.”

  The preacher recognized the steely determination in the young man's voice. He eyed the gun the youngster had holstered on his hip as he rubbed the crease along his scalp, which had created a streak of pure white in his salt-and-pepper hair. He hadn't exactly come to the Wyoming Territory with a clean slate himself, so he didn't want to stir up any trouble. There were folks down in St. Louis who would pay good money to know where Sam January was. He had given up his patent medicine show years ago, however, and now he was sticking by the good book. To tell the God's truth, he'd had a lot more success with spiritual healing than he'd ever had with Mrs. Prim's Magic Elixir.

  “Good luck to you both,” he said, shaking Hadley's hand and nodding to his new wife. “You heading back home right away?”

  “We haven't decided,” Hadley said.

  Now the preacher saw the nervousness he had expected the boy to evidence earlier. The young woman's blush made it plain the couple hadn't discussed what would naturally come after they were married. He smiled inside, but was careful not to let his feelings show, lest the hot-blooded boy take offense. “There's a hotel in town has a mighty fine restaurant, if you was to want to have a meal to celebrate your nuptials.”

  Hadley grasped at the preacher's suggestion as
though it were a rope tossed to a man skittering down a shaley slope. “That sounds good. Does that sound good to you, Bliss?”

  “Yes,” Bliss replied in a timid

  “Thanks again.” Hadley slipped his arm around Bliss and urged her toward the door of the preacher's simple log cabin.

  It was a short walk down the hard-packed dirt street past false-fronted establishments to the Canyon Creek Hotel. Hadley's mind was working furiously on whether or not he could ask Bliss to spend the afternoon with him in a room at the hotel. He wanted to. Lord, he wanted it more than anything he could imagine.

  He tried to catch her eye, but she was looking straight ahead and her bonnet shielded her from view. She was his wife. It was all right if they went to bed together. Once they returned to Sweetwater, he would be denied that pleasure for as long as it took to get things settled between their parents. There weren't going to be any lazy afternoons under the cottonwoods with the fierce winter winds now biting into them.

  But he didn't have to ask her right this minute. They could have a leisurely meal first. He knew she must be hungry. They had left early and she had admitted she had been too excited to eat breakfast. But when they reached the door to the restaurant, he discovered he hadn't the patience he thought he had. Hadley grabbed his wife's arm and turned her to face him. He let the hunger show in his eyes. “Bliss?”

  His heart was in his throat, because he could see she was torn. Her blue-veined lids shuttered her eyes for a moment, her lashes creating two coal crescents on her flushed cheeks. When she looked back up, she let him see that she was hungry too. All she said was, “Yes, Hadley.”

  It was plenty.

  “Wait here.” He seated her on one of the Victorian sofas in the lobby and walked over to the registration desk. He didn't give the clerk a chance to challenge him, just demanded the best room in the hotel. The man looked askance at him, but Hadley squared his youthful shoulders and faced him down. The cold key clutched in his palm, he returned to Bliss and escorted her upstairs to the last room at the end of the hall.

  Bliss balked at the doorway, and Hadley had to nudge her inside. Once inside, she quickly crossed to the window and gazed out onto the short, busy main street. For a frightening moment she thought she recognized one of her father's friends, staring right at her from across the street, but an oath from Hadley at the fireplace distracted her attention and when she looked back, the man was gone. It was probably only her guilty conscience that had made the face look so familiar.

  She turned back to Hadley but, too embarrassed to really look at him, her gaze skipped away and she perused the room, her eyes finally coming to rest on the large four-poster bed covered with a beautiful yellow and blue patched quilt. She couldn't look at that either. She stared at the ceiling. It had cracked from wall to wall and there was a white line where it had been replastered. “The room is . . . uh . . . nice,” she murmured.

  Hadley had broken three matches lighting the fire that had been laid in the brick fireplace. He rose and turned to find her gripping her Bible for dear life. He wondered if he should admit he felt as nervous as she did. He thought may that wouldn't really help matters, so he said, “I'll take your coat.”

  Once her hat, coat, and gloves were off, Bliss was less nervous, as though she were committed now and there was no backing out. She watched Hadley as he removed his heavy coat, and instead of his lanky frame, she saw the promise of the man he would become. There was something sinful about wanting your husband in the middle of the day, but Bliss couldn't help how she felt.

  “I wish I had been able to wear something prettier for you,” she said, staring down at the washed-out dress she had worn so her mother wouldn't suspect her momentous plans.

  “I wouldn't have seen it anyway,” Hadley said as he walked toward her. “It was too cold in the preacher's cabin for you to take off your coat.”

  “Still, you could be seeing it now.”

  “I'd just want to take it off,” Hadley said in a husky voice. “Like I want to take this one off.”

  Bliss battled between running into Hadley's arms and turning tail and fleeing the room. Marriage was such a big step. What if their parents never made peace? What if her father came after Hadley when he heard about the baby? What if—

  Bliss's worries melted away like snow in a spring thaw as Hadley's arms closed around her. Snug in that comforting haven, she thought she could weather any storm. He held her for a long time, his arms gradually tightening, his breath coming less easily, as she felt his body respond to the closeness of their embrace.

  “Hadley,” she murmured. “I think I'd like to get out of this dress.”

  For a moment she didn't think he had heard her. Then he lifted his chin from where it rested on her hair, and looked deep into her innocent blue eyes. “Are you sure, Bliss?”

  The bit of uncertainty revealed in his tentative question was all she needed to make her certain she was doing the right thing. “I'll need some help.”

  She turned around so he would be able to undo the myriad buttons that ran down the back of her faded pink cambric dress. He took his time. Or maybe he couldn't work any faster, the way his fingers were trembling.

  Hadley hadn't realized he would be so nervous. After all, this wouldn't be the first time he and Bliss had made love. But this occasion was special, the beginning of their lives together. He wanted everything to be perfect. And he was afraid he might do or say something to spoil the few hours that would be all the honeymoon they would have.

  Bliss felt the heightening tension as the last of the plain white agate buttons came free. Hadley reached up to her shoulders and slid the dress down in front before he turned her to face him. She looked down, too shy to watch him look at her.

  “Oh, Bliss. You're beautiful.”

  There had been no time in their first excited coupling down by the river for them to remove their clothes. Since then, Hadley had always known the fear of getting caught. He was seeing her nearly undressed for the first time that he could really look his fill. The thin cloth didn't hide much, and Bliss knew her nipples, peaking from the cold—or was it nervous excitement—must be showing. Hadley was so obviously pleased by what he saw that she felt herself relax a little.

  She looked up and quipped with a shaky voice, “Just wait until you see what's under this ratty old chemise.”

  Hadley met her wobbly grin with one of his own, and from then on they responded as healthy, lusty young animals, eager to see each other, eager to touch. Before long they were standing naked facing each other. Both had chill bumps on their skin—the fire had barely had time to warm the room—but both felt the warmth of the other's desire.

  “You're so—” Bliss didn't know how to describe Hadley's body. His chest was all taut muscle, marred only by the red scar where the bullet had struck his shoulder. The toll the wound had taken showed in his bony ribs and a belly that was flat, almost gaunt-looking. Below that was a bush of hair and from it grew the male part of him that had thrust inside her and provided the seed for the child growing in her womb.

  “I want you,” she said.

  “I want you too.”

  They both laughed, because the effect of her words on Hadley, and the truth of his response, was pretty hard to hide. Hadley reached out and lifted Bliss up into his arms.

  “Hadley, your shoulder—”

  “—will last until I get you to bed. I don't have a threshold to carry you over, so this will have to do.”

  They both looked at each other with solemn eyes, acknowledging the huge step they had taken into adulthood. Then Hadley set her down on the bed and Bliss scrambled under the covers. He quickly joined her there. She lay waiting, letting him make the first move.

  The first thing he did was turn back the covers again so he could see her. He reached out a hand, but paused. “Can I touch you?
”

  “Yes.”

  She thought he would touch her breast, but instead he placed a palm on her belly, which was slightly rounded now from their child. His hand felt warm and rough on her skin as he caressed her, and she fought the urge to move under his touch.

  “Are you sure this won't hurt the baby?”

  A rich, happy feeling welled up inside her at the thoughtfulness of a man needing the way he did, but still being concerned enough to ask. “The baby's fine. He won't mind at all.”

  To reassure him further, and because she wanted to, Bliss reached out and placed her palm on Hadley's abdomen. He sucked it in, and at the same time gasped.

  She immediately withdrew. “Is my hand cold?”

  “Not at all,” he rasped, grasping her hand and placing it back on his belly. “It just felt so good. I was surprised.”