by Jodi Thomas
The memory of what he’d done out in the grass made him feel even dirtier. If ever there was a man who could write a book on how not to make love to a woman, he must be the one. Kissing her lightly was one thing. He’d mastered that. But the next step was a hundred-foot drop. What kind of gentleman grabbed a woman and pulled her into the mud in the middle of a rainstorm? If his sister knew about what he’d done, Gavrila would have him caged like a mad dog.
He hadn’t meant to hurt Hannah, yet he must have with his rough treatment. Ford closed his eyes tightly, as if he could make the picture in his mind disappear. He hadn’t even meant to kiss her. When he’d run from the barn, his only thought had been to stop her from plunging off into the canyon. But when she’d slammed into him, then hugged him as if he were her only rock, she’d shattered all his reserve into a million pieces. Like the storm that raged around them, the fury of his longing could no longer be bridled. The wildness of her dance had shattered what little control he’d held on to all day. Before he realized what was happening, he was kissing her, and that kiss started a hunger that made him feel like he’d starve if he didn’t try to sate it.
He hadn’t noticed the icy storm or the mud. All he’d seen was Hannah beneath him. All he’d felt was her moving against him, driving him wild with the feel of her.
Then she’d gotten angry, not over him attacking her, or trying to make love to her, but because he’d saved her from certain death. He’d acted a fool and she was completely mad; they were a perfect match for one another, it seemed.
Ford wondered how he’d ever face her again when he wasn’t sure he could face himself, come daylight. He was certain no gentleman ever boldly ran his hands up and down a woman the way he had. And he hadn’t just kissed her, he’d devoured her. Just the memory now made his cheeks warm with embarrassment and other parts of his body afire with need.
“What are you doing here?” Hannah’s sharp voice sounded from behind him.
Ford turned slowly, steeling his body for what he might have to face. She stood in the doorway, the light from the fireplace shining in a glow around her form. Her hair was clean and she’d found another one of his nightshirts to wear. Since the robe she’d borrowed was probably lying in some puddle, she’d pulled on one of his flannel work shirts. Wool socks covered her legs where the nightshirt didn’t reach. Though she looked warm, clean, and inviting, he imagined he was the last person she wanted to welcome nearer.
He looked but saw no gun in her hand.
“I said, what are you doing here?” she repeated as she took a step into the kitchen.
He could say the obvious, that he needed to change his wet clothes before he died of a fever, or that there was nowhere else out of the rain to wash up but in the house, or that the rain had turned to sleet, leaving the barn freezing. But all Ford could say in answer to her question was, “It’s my house.”
Hannah heard the longing in his words. Words that asked where else would he be welcome if not here in his own home. She could see that he had to change clothes. In truth, except for his face, the man looked like a huge mud-pie man. The places on his clothing that weren’t covered with mud appeared to be frozen stiff. Just the sight of him made her shiver, though Ford didn’t seem overly bothered by his appearance.
“I could get some water and wash up out on the porch.” He lifted the wash pan and moved it below the pump. “I’ll be out of your way in a few minutes.”
Suddenly the dirty little boy Gavrila had described tracked across Hannah’s mind. “You’ll do nothing of the sort.” She didn’t meet his gaze lest he guess her thoughts. “I’ll heat the water for you for a proper bath, and put coffee on. From the looks of you, it’ll take a pot of coffee and a tub of water just for starters.”
Ford watched in amazement as she moved around him and began filling the extra kettles with water. He figured if anyone on this planet had a reason to hate him right now, it was Hannah, yet she was helping him. He must have driven her completely crazy, or else there was so much mud on him she didn’t even know who she was talking to.
“But—”
“Go get out of those clothes and put on another kettle in the dressing area. I’m afraid I used most of the extra water with my bath, but there’s still a fire in the stove. The water should be ready by the time you peel a few pounds of that mud off you. I’ll bring you fresh clothes.”
Ford moved slowly to the door. He wasn’t in the habit of having someone order him around in a tone that seemed to indicate she was doing it for his own good.
“And pull off those boots right here in the kitchen before you track more mud in!”
He followed orders. “Yes, ma’am.” Even if he’d disagreed, he was far too tired and cold to argue. Ford walked to the dressing room between the two bedrooms and slowly removed his clothes. His body felt stiff and even the warmth of the dressing room didn’t help his muscles relax.
Hannah’s torn nightshirt lay in a puddle of mud in one corner, reminding Ford of what he’d done. He’d never be able to explain his actions to her; he didn’t even understand them himself.
When she tapped on the door, he wrapped a towel around his waist and opened the door for her.
Standing with a kettle of boiling water in each hand, Hannah still froze at the sight of him. His body was carved of lean muscle from shoulder to calf, just as she’d imagined it would be. She’d seen a few men without shirts before, but none who looked like Ford. What puzzled her greatly was that he seemed embarrassed by showing such perfection.
Hannah poured two steaming kettles of water into the tub and then added what looked to Ford to be about a cupful of cold water. “Climb in,” she said, pointing at the tub.
He stared at the hip tub he’d thought was quite a luxury when he’d bought it. Soup didn’t steam as much as this bath, but she didn’t seem to have any patience for the water to cool.
“I’ll bring more in a minute.” Hannah waited with one hand on her hip. “But first get in so I’ll know how much more to heat.”
“Are you planning on watching me boil?”
“I might,” Hannah answered, showing no sign of retreat.
Ford tried staring her down, but she didn’t move. The look he’d used to frighten away anyone he didn’t want around had no effect on her. Since he couldn’t stand before her in a towel forever, slowly he stepped into the tub.
Biting back a yelp of pain, he carefully held the towel in front of him as he lowered himself into the water. His icy bones felt like they were shattering an inch at a time as they moved into the steam.
“Just as I thought,” she said. “We’ll need at least two more of these kettles for you to take a decent bath.”
Ford was fighting to keep from screaming. “Do you think you could get the next pot of water a little hotter?” he whispered sarcastically.
“I can try,” Hannah answered, deadly serious.
Ford had about reached the point that he no longer had to bite down on his lip to stay in the tub when she brought in another kettle.
She mixed the same degree of cold water with the hot and poured it over his back. Ford forced himself not to say a word. He closed his eyes and kept reminding himself that the bath would cool in a minute but her anger might outlast him.
Hannah knelt at his side and plopped a bar of soap into the water by his arm. Before he realized what she was doing, she’d lathered his shoulder.
He caught her hand with his own. “What do you think you’re doing?”
He could never remember a time in his life when anyone helped him bathe, yet she seemed to be doing so as though it were a routine they’d set.
“I’m helping you.” Her gaze was fixed on the washcloth in her hand as she answered.
“I don’t need any help bathing,” Ford said slowly, thinking maybe she planned to kill him later, and if he were clean it would make the laying out for the funeral easier.
“Suit yourself.” She plopped the rag into the water and stood. “But you’re not slee
ping in the same bed with me if there’s an inch of mud left on you.”
Before her words had time to register, she crossed to the door and disappeared into his bedroom.
For a long moment, Ford stared at the wall, not believing what she’d said. Then he dropped his head into the water and shook it, hoping the heat would thaw his brain.
When he raised his head, he slung his hair in a wide circle, streaking the walls as he climbed from the tub and reached for his pants.
Hannah heard him through the door and realized what he was doing. She walked across his bedroom and crawled into her side of the bed. Tucking her knees beneath her chin, she sat with her back against the hand-carved headboard and waited.
As she’d expected, the wait wasn’t long. Ford opened the door as he pulled on the shirt she’d left out for him. His hair was still dripping and he’d only taken the time to button a few necessary buttons on his jeans. His clothes clung to his hurriedly dried body, revealing finely carved muscles.
For a long time they just looked at one another across the endless space between where he stood at the door and she sat on the bed. The frown on his face would have been frightening if she hadn’t known him so well. Inside this powerful man was a gentleman who’d spent a week being kind to someone else’s children and who’d offered her refuge even when she’d robbed him. Tonight she’d learned he was also a creature of passion…deep, wild, untamed passion.
“I figure you got a right to hate me.” His low voice whispered across the room, almost in a caress. “I had no right doing what I did out there in the storm. I don’t suppose you’ll believe me, but I never meant to hurt you. I’m not even sure how it all started.”
“You didn’t hurt me,” she answered. How could he have thought he’d hurt her? His advances had been demanding, strong, passionate, but never hurtful.
He leaned his head against the door frame and closed his eyes. “When you asked if I was loving you or attacking you, I realized I must be doing a terrible job if you couldn’t tell the difference. I’ve wanted to touch you all day. I thought I could control the need, but tonight, when you danced in the wind, all the longing seemed to explode out of me.”
She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. His pain seemed to warm the air between them. Hannah couldn’t tell him that she’d known what he was doing and her words had been an effort to get him to slow down a little, not stop.
Until tonight, she’d thought she could play with the attraction between them and never have to carry it any further. But tonight, when she’d looked up into his stormy face and felt his hands boldly move over her, she’d known better. Ford wasn’t a man to be toyed with and forgotten. His emotions ran far too deep, so deep she was afraid of falling into them as she almost had the canyon and never surviving the tumble.
But she wanted the wild man in him more than she’d ever dreamed she could want a man.
The hesitant rancher before her wasn’t the same man she’d known before tonight. She’d learned his secret in the storm and was drawn to it. Her mother had once told her to find a man with great passion if she ever married, for even if it cooled over the years, the embers would warm her all her life. Ford’s passion had shocked her with its fire and need.
“When I saw you dancing so close to the edge, I panicked. All I could think about was losing you.” Ford didn’t open his eyes as he continued. “Funny, isn’t it. I’ll lose you in less than two weeks, anyway, but I had to kiss you. Just once before I lost you.”
He couldn’t bring himself to look at her. “I guess I can’t lose what I never really had, but in the rain and the storm all I could think about was holding you in my arms the way I’ve longed to hold you since the day we married.”
When she didn’t answer, he finally looked at her, but the shadowy light hid her face. “I don’t blame you for being mad at me and I swear I’ll keep a room away until you leave, but don’t tease me like you did just now. Don’t say things as if we were really married and planning to share a bed.”
“I wasn’t teasing, but you are right…you’d better stay a room away while we talk some before you come closer.”
He folded his arms and waited, still leaning against the door frame.
“I won’t be handled like a sack of potatoes to be tossed first one direction then another. And there’ll be no more pulling me into the mud and ruining my robe. I’ve grown used to having everything clean around me these past few weeks. I’d like to see how hot this fire we have for one another burns, for I’ve never felt like this before and may never again.”
Ford turned slowly to face her, his feet spread wide apart as if waiting for her blow to strike. “If we’re going to talk, then you’d best talk plainer, Hannah, because I’m not sure I understand.”
She laughed suddenly, a nervous little laugh that lightened the tension slightly. “I’m saying I’d like to share a bed with you, Ford, but not the ground. I haven’t enough clothes to go rolling in the mud again.”
“To sleep?” Ford couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Flirting had been one thing, but to go to bed with her after feeling her in the rain would only lead to one result. Even just talking about it, he could feel his control slipping.
“That, too,” she answered as she spread the cover on his side. “I’d like to sleep with you between the same layers of sheets.”
“But I never…”
“That’s obvious from your courting tactics.” Hannah laughed again. “I don’t hate you, Ford, and I didn’t mean it when I asked if you were attacking me. I’ve never been loved, but I’ve been attacked, and it hurts far more than your kisses or touch. Just start a little slower and try not to reach full gallop a yard from the gate.”
Ford moved to the foot of the bed and gripped the railing so tightly his knuckles whitened. “Are you sure you want this? I’ll not touch you if you have any doubts, because if I ever touch you again I’m not sure where I could stop.”
“Are you certain you want me?”
“No,” he answered. “Yes.” He didn’t want to ask all the questions that were between them. He only wanted to answer from his heart, and he wanted her more than he wanted his heart to continue to beat.
Hannah knew exactly how he felt. One minute she wished she were as far away from here as possible, and the next minute she couldn’t get enough of touching him. But they’d started something, maybe from their first kiss, that needed to be completed, or they’d both spend the rest of their lives wondering about what might have been.
Slowly, she reached out a hand and covered his fingers. “My mother always told me that someday I’d dance with the wind and run wild in paradise. I didn’t know until you kissed me out there that she was talking about you. Part of you is gentle and kind. You’re the first man I’ve ever felt like I could look up to. But another part, the side I saw tonight, is wild and untamed. A man with a hunger so deep it sets me on fire just remembering the way you kissed me and touched me, as if I’d been born for that one night in time, and all the ones before and after didn’t matter.”
Hannah crawled closer to the foot of the bed, where he stood. She knelt and drew up even with him, only a breath away. “I want both parts of you beside me tonight. I want all of the man.”
Her fingers slowly climbed from his waist to his shoulders, pushing his shirt away in their journey. Lightly she moved her touch over him, feeling his skin as he had hers.
“You don’t hate me?” he whispered as he fought for control while she moved her lips up his throat.
“I want you to love me,” she whispered against his skin. “I want to dance with the wind while in your arms and feel wild and free. I need to believe that a man needs me, just me for a time.”
Ford could take no more; he closed his arms around her and pulled her to him. The hunger he’d felt in the rain was a driving, maddening river of fire, but it was nothing compared to what he felt now with her so warm and willing in his arms.
He dug his hands into her hair and tilted her he
ad back so that he could kiss her.
She gave him what he wanted, but after one long kiss, pulled away, shoving at his chest.
“Slow down,” she laughed. “We have all night.”
She turned to remove his flannel shirt, but Ford couldn’t control his haste. Before she could hang the shirt, he swung her into his embrace and moved around the bed.
He dropped her onto the cover and heard her giggle a moment before his body and his mouth claimed her.
If she’d had any hope that he’d love her slowly and easily, it evaporated in the heat of both their passions. While she tried to unbutton his jeans, he ripped her nightshirt open with one mighty jerk. She arched her back in pleasure as his mouth found her breast with a hunger that brought her pure joy.
He couldn’t seem to get enough of her body. The more he tasted, the more he wanted. His hands moved over her, almost bruising her flesh with his intensity. They rolled across the covers, feeling one another, kissing, holding, loving.
When they were both burning with need, he rose above her and for the first time since the dance began, he hesitated. Her need was too great to allow him to stop. She circled her arms and legs around him and drew him to her, feeling a light pain before pleasure consumed her.
They moved in perfect rhythm with one another as though they were a matched set, each balanced to the other’s needs. Finally, Hannah’s mind exploded into paradise and she heard a cry of pure pleasure, but she wasn’t sure if it was from her or Ford.
For a long while they lay wrapped in one another as they settled back to earth. Ford’s hand gently caressed her breasts while her fingers stroked his back in slow, lazy movements.
He pulled the cover over their bodies, and Hannah curled against him in sleep. He listened to the steady sound of her breathing against his chest. Smiling as his thumb brushed the peak of her breast, he felt it harden in welcome even as she slept. He slowly moved his hand down to her hip and pulled, drawing her tightly against him, loving the way her skin felt against his.
