“Sassy?”
Without a word Elyssa shot off Hunter’s bed. She moved so quickly that her wrapper lifted and fluttered behind her like ruined wings.
The bedroom door opened and shut without a sound.
Hunter grimaced and cursed beneath his breath. He had been too quick, too hard. He had tried to slow down, but the liquid silk of Elyssa’s response had stripped away his control. He had never wanted a woman the way he wanted her.
“Hell,” Hunter muttered, disgusted with himself.
He suspected that Elyssa had been waiting for some soft words and gentle petting. He had been sorely tempted to do just that.
But he hadn’t let himself.
Hunter was damned if he was going to dance at the end of puppet strings for Elyssa just because he had taken what she offered.
Even so, next time will be different, Hunter promised himself. Next time I won’t let her sweet little claws and her body twisting beneath mine push me right over the edge.
The thought of taking Elyssa again sent a hot thrill through Hunter’s body.
There was no doubt in his mind that there would be a next time.
Any girl as passionate as Sassy will get hungry again real soon. She’ll come knocking on my door in the middle of the night again.
I’ll be waiting for her.
It won’t be long.
Smiling slightly, Hunter lit a candle and went to the washbasin. He stripped out of his trousers and under-wear and reached for a washcloth.
The sight of blood on his slowly softening flesh stopped him cold.
What the hell!
I wasn’t rough enough to draw blood. I was quick, but she was ready.
Hunter had no doubt of that. It was the sleek, liquid welcome of Elyssa’s body that had shattered his control.
It must have been her time of the month.
Soft, muffled sounds came from the next room.
Hunter went still, cocked his head, and listened. After a few moments he decided that Elyssa must be crying.
Uneasily Hunter washed himself. The subdued, broken sounds continued from the next room.
Still naked, he went to the wall between their bedrooms and listened intently. The sounds weren’t coming from Elyssa’s bed. She wasn’t doing what Belinda had done, lying in bed and sobbing noisily until she got what she wanted from him.
In fact, it sounded like Elyssa was doing everything she could to make no noise at all.
I must have hurt her.
Damn! I can’t believe I was harder on her than a rambunctious lout like Mickey.
Sickened and angered by his own lack of control, Hunter dressed quickly and went to Elyssa’s room.
When he opened the door, the sound of crying became more distinct. An acrid scent struck his nostrils, as though someone was burning cloth.
Hunter closed the bedroom door behind him. A quick look told him that Elyssa was in bed now. Something was smoldering sullenly on the small hearth.
“Sassy?” Hunter asked softly.
The sounds of crying stopped as though cut off by a knife.
Making no noise, Hunter went to the bed and sat on its edge.
When Elyssa felt the mattress give way under Hunter’s weight, she wanted to flee. But she was stark naked. The stained remains of her nightdress and wrapper were smoldering in the hearth.
Like a trapped animal Elyssa lay utterly still, silently willing Hunter to go away. To be caught crying by him was just one more in a long list of the night’s humiliations. She didn’t think she could bear any more.
Elyssa flinched when Hunter’s hand stroked her hair. He felt the betraying motion and swore.
“I’m sorry,” he said simply. “I didn’t mean to be rough.”
The next time Hunter stroked her hair, Elyssa forced herself not to acknowledge it in any way. Yet she couldn’t prevent the tremors that lashed through her body, her nerves stretched to the point of breaking.
“You were smaller than I expected,” Hunter said in a low voice. “It had been a long time for me and you were ready and I wanted you like hell on fire.”
Elyssa said nothing, did nothing. She simply lay and shivered beneath Hunter’s gentle, unwanted touch.
The stark trembling of Elyssa’s body was salt rubbed into the fresh wound of Hunter’s self-esteem.
“Take it easy,” he murmured. “I’ll be gentle as sunlight with you from now on. Next time you’ll enjoy it more. There’s so much passion in you, Sassy girl. In that, at least, we’re well matched.”
Sassy.
The hated nickname destroyed Elyssa’s self-control. With an inarticulate cry she struck out at Hunter like the cornered animal she was. Fingers hooked like claws reached for his face.
Reflexively Hunter caught her wrists.
“Take it easy, Sassy. Aren’t you listening? I said I’ll never hurt you again.”
“I hate you,” Elyssa said in a low, savage voice. “Get out before I scream down the house.”
“For God’s sake, settle down and stop acting like an outraged virgin.”
“Why shouldn’t I? It’s what I am! Or rather, was.”
“What are you talking about? My wife never bled, not even the first time.”
“Fancy man,” Elyssa snarled, “I’ll bet this ranch that you weren’t anywhere near your wife her first time!”
Realization swept through Hunter, staggering him.
It had been a virgin’s pain, not a flirt’s practiced passion, that had caused Elyssa to stiffen and thrash harshly beneath him.
And he had held his hand over her mouth the whole time.
“Sweet Jesus,” Hunter whispered, appalled. “Why didn’t you stop me?”
“I tried!”
Rage swept through him at the implications of what Elyssa was saying.
“Damn you, Sassy,” he said in a low, dangerous voice, “I didn’t rape you and you know it! You were with me every step of the way, right up to the instant I—”
Hunter’s words cut off as he realized where they were leading. Elyssa had been with him right up to the instant he ripped through her maidenhead.
For a time Hunter’s searing blasphemies hung in the air like the acrid smoke from Elyssa’s ruined night-clothes. She listened to his words and bared her teeth in feral response, coldly gratified to know that in this, at least, she had finally reached through Hunter’s barriers.
Hunter saw Elyssa’s travesty of a smile and knew that her rage was as deep as his own.
“You could have fought me,” he said. “Why didn’t you until it was too late?”
“I thought I loved you,” Elyssa said, her voice as low and vicious as Hunter’s. “I thought you loved me. I thought you were just reluctant to show it because of your first wife.”
Shocked silence was Hunter’s only answer.
Then, softly, he said, “You little fool.”
“For once we are in complete agreement.”
“Weren’t you listening to me?” Hunter demanded. “Did I ever talk about anything but lust between us?”
Humiliation and rage fought for possession of Elyssa’s tongue. Both won.
“No and no. But I’m listening now, fancy man. I’m all bloody ears.”
“Too damned late,” he snarled.
Elyssa didn’t argue with that, either.
Silence claimed the room.
“What is that stink?” Hunter finally asked irritably.
“Whatever I was wearing when I left your room.”
The cool precision of Elyssa’s voice and the continuous, rippling shine of tears on her face told Hunter how precariously she was in control of herself.
Not that he blamed Elyssa. At the moment, he was feeling a little precarious about control himself.
“God, what a tangle,” he whispered.
Elyssa ignored Hunter, concentrating instead on controlling herself.
It had never been more difficult.
“Well, there’s no help for it,” Hunter said in
a low voice. “I’ll have to marry you.”
Elyssa’s head whipped toward him in disbelief.
Hunter didn’t notice. He was too caught in the tangle he had made of what should have been a simple, straightforward affair.
“Tomorrow we’ll tell everyone we’re engaged,” Hunter said. “As soon as this mess with the Culpeppers is cleared up, I’ll find a preacher and we’ll get married.”
Elyssa stared at Hunter as if he had gone mad.
Then Hunter turned and pinned her with a bleak glare. When he spoke, his voice was equally bleak, like a whip of ice.
“But with God as my witness, Elyssa Sutton, if you don’t grow up and be a good mother to my children, you will rue the day you teased me into marrying you.”
“No,” she said savagely.
“What?”
“No. I won’t marry you.”
“Don’t be foolish,” Hunter said, his voice impatient. “It’s what you wanted all along.”
“But then, we’ve already agreed I was a fool. Unlike you, Hunter, I do learn from my mistakes. I won’t marry you.”
“Why?”
“If we get married, you have the right to do that to me whenever you want.”
“You’ll want it, too. I’ll see to it. I just never thought you could be a virgin. Not the way you responded to me, like setting a match to straw.”
Hunter smiled at the memory.
The smile caught Elyssa on the raw, completing her humiliation.
“Listen to me, you smug son of a bitch,” she snarled. “Right now there’s no law telling me I have to suffer a man’s rutting ever again. I’m going to see that it stays that way.”
Hunter grimaced. “I told you, next time you’ll enjoy it.”
“My God, you must really think I’m stupid. ‘Next time you’ll enjoy it,’” she mimicked savagely. “What rot!”
“Calm down and use your head instead of your sharp little tongue. If marriage was so bad, do you think women would put up with it?”
“Once the marital knot is tied around a woman’s stupid neck, she doesn’t have much choice, does she?” Elyssa said in a scathing voice. “No wonder churches and townships make sure girls are virgins before they marry. They would never suffer it otherwise.”
Hunter bit back a searing remark and tried sweet reason on his unreasonable lover.
“What if you’re pregnant?” he asked.
“What if I’m not?”
“What if you are?” Hunter insisted.
Elyssa looked at him with wild, glittering eyes, feeling control slipping away with every breath.
“Get out, Hunter. I don’t want you anymore. Ever. In any way.”
“Damn it, Sassy, you can’t just—”
“Get. Out.”
Abruptly Hunter stood and stalked toward the door.
“We’ll talk again in the morning,” he said, “when you’re not in a snit.”
He closed the bedroom door behind him and stood in the hallway, listening.
Not one sound came back through the door to him.
Not even tears.
Elyssa’s silence made a cold knot form in Hunter’s stomach. She wasn’t acting the way Belinda always had. Belinda had used tears and words and the swing of her hips to flay a man’s pride until he had none left. With Belinda, sex had been a savage little game.
But Elyssa wasn’t like Belinda. With Elyssa, sex wasn’t a game at all.
I don’t want you anymore. Ever. In any way.
Hunter told himself that Elyssa would feel differently in the morning. Beneath the feminine outrage she was too intelligent not to understand that marriage was necessary now.
He had taken her virginity.
The fact that he hadn’t understood she was a virgin didn’t matter. He had torn her maidenhood, spent himself completely inside her, and they must marry.
She’ll come around once her nerves settle, Hunter reassured himself.
The absolute silence from the other side of the door told Hunter that he was as wrong in this assumption as he had been in his others about Elyssa Sutton.
Elyssa wasn’t Belinda.
The implications of that simple truth kept breaking over Hunter through the long, sleepless night.
19
With outward composure Elyssa pulled on work clothing she hadn’t worn since she had been sent to England years ago. The pants were a soft, navy blue wool gabardine that once had fitted her very loosely. Now they were snug across the hips. The pants were too short, but her boots would cover up that problem.
The blouse was a more difficult affair. The checked flannel shirts that Elyssa once had worn with the pants strained across her bust. At fifteen, she had been considerably less curvy than she was today.
Nor would any of her mother’s old clothes fit. Elyssa was bigger than her mother had been.
I’ll just have to find something else to wear on top, Elyssa told herself grimly.
Anything else.
There was no chance that Elyssa would wear her English dresses. Hunter’s scathing comments about her clothes were branded on her mind.
Some girls just don’t know they’re alive unless some fool boy is admiring them.
Men come to a point whenever you walk by. You know it, but you keep on walking by.
Elyssa refused to stay locked in the house like a harem girl, but she could do her best to disguise everything feminine about herself.
Sharply she tugged at the flannel shirt, trying to give her breasts more room. It was futile. There simply wasn’t enough space beneath the flannel.
But if she wore her silks and satins, Hunter would give her a look with his bleak, knowing eyes.
If you want a fast roll, I’m ready, willing, and by-God able to oblige. But that’s all it will be, Sassy. Fast sex.
Hunter was a man of his word. Fast sex was just what it had been.
Tears of shame and anger pricked behind Elyssa’s eyes, an echo of the sad, savage moment when she had learned just how little Hunter thought of her.
With God as my witness, Elyssa Sutton, if you don’t grow up and be a good mother to my children, you will rue the day you teased me into marrying you.
Hunter’s words hurt Elyssa far more than the tearing of her maidenhead had. His words told her that she had given her love to a man who had neither respect nor affection for her.
Just lust.
Damn him.
And damn me for being a fool.
Dry-eyed, Elyssa rummaged around in dusty chests until she found one of her father’s buckskin shirts carefully wrapped up and laid away. The shirt was still soft and pliable.
She pulled it over her head, rolled up the sleeves, and let the straight-cut hem cover her hips. The fringe hung and swayed from her breasts in an annoying fashion, but otherwise hid her curves quite well.
A quick check in the mirror told Elyssa that her cream-colored chemise showed through the laces of the buckskin shirt. Impatiently she pulled the laces tighter. Then she found one of her father’s large bandannas and knotted it at the back of her neck. The faded red cloth hung down over the laces, concealing everything.
Though Elyssa hated wearing her hair braided and knotted up and skewered against her skull, she braided the long, silky mass, wound it up tight, pinned it harshly against her head, and pulled her hat down until not one pale bit of hair showed.
Another check in the mirror satisfied Elyssa that even the most narrow-minded, mean-spirited, thick-skulled ex-rebel colonel couldn’t accuse her of trying to catch a man’s eye with a flashy way of dressing.
Elyssa went down the stairs to the kitchen, certain that she wouldn’t have to confront Hunter right away. She had heard him leave the house earlier.
Not early, mind you. He had gone downstairs nearly a full hour later than usual.
Exhausted by all that lust, no doubt, Elyssa thought bitterly.
There was a grim set to her mouth when she walked into the kitchen.
“Good heavens,”
Penny said. “What happened to you?”
“I beg your pardon?” Elyssa said, wondering if Penny somehow knew about last night.
“Your, er, clothes.”
“Oh.” Elyssa shrugged. “I’m tired of the English clothes.”
“Sassy, you can’t—”
“Don’t call me Sassy.”
The anger buried in Elyssa’s voice startled Penny.
“I’m sorry,” Penny said. “I didn’t realize you disliked Bill’s nickname for you.”
Elyssa shrugged and gathered her fraying self-control.
“You can’t wear those clothes out of the house,” Penny said.
“Why not?”
“They’re men’s clothes!”
“I’m doing a man’s work. Why should I be trussed up in silk and satin?”
“You sound just like your mother,” Penny muttered.
Saying nothing, Elyssa pulled on rough leather work gloves and lifted the shotgun from its pegs over the kitchen door.
“Aren’t you going to eat breakfast?” Penny asked.
“I’m not hungry.”
“Let me pack a lunch for you.”
“If I want something, I’ll come back and get it.”
“You and Hunter,” Penny said, exasperated. “Must be some kind of autumn fever going around.”
Elyssa spun back to the other woman.
“What’s this about Hunter?” Elyssa demanded.
“He wasn’t hungry either.”
Good, Elyssa thought. I hope his conscience grinds on him until he’s a shadow.
The worried look on Penny’s face told Elyssa she should get a better grip on her feelings.
Again.
“What about you?” Elyssa asked calmly. “Are you feeling better?”
“Yes. I guess I’m about through the morning sickness.”
A shock wave went through Elyssa.
I might be pregnant.
“Don’t worry about anything,” Elyssa said to Penny. “We’ll do just fine without men.”
Penny smiled wanly.
Elyssa gave her a quick hug, then set off for the barn with a determined stride. The movements made her wince slightly.
The memory of Hunter lying between her thighs speared through Elyssa like lightning. Memories of the pleasure that had come before the pain expanded through her body in shimmering waves.
In the dark pauses between pleasure, shame bloomed.
Autumn Lover Page 25
