Rocky Mountain Rogue (Rocky Mountain Bride Series Book 5)

by Lee Savino

  At the thought of him rifling through her chemises and intimate silks, heat flared through her. She stepped back, a blush searing her cheeks. "You, sir, are a rogue," she informed him.

  He didn't look the least bit contrite.

  "Bath is ready," the innkeeper announced, and Susannah turned, grateful for the distraction. Once the bedroom door closed, she approached the dingy tub. It didn't look like much, but Susannah knew it would be heaven after her wilderness initiation. She sighed as she trailed her fingers in the warm water.

  Jesse hovered at her shoulder, a hopeful grin creeping over his stubbled face. "Am I forgiven?"

  "Perhaps. Oh, I don't know. This time." She couldn't help smiling back at him.

  Her new husband put his hand on her hips, his lips whispering into her hair. "Susannah, admit it, as wild as your trip has been, you are having an adventure."

  "Hmmm." Susannah craned her neck and his face filled her vision, his lips enticingly close. He really was handsome. Her pulse quickened as he drew her hips back, and she found herself scrambling for her previous pique. "I don't know."

  "You're having fun," he purred.

  It was true, despite the aches and men trying to kill her, she hadn't given any real thought to returning home, or longed for it. It was as if everything in her previous life had been dull and washed out, and now, in Colorado Territory, her life was finally brilliant with color.

  "If you came home with me, we could explore just how much fun there is to be had."

  The thought was tempting. His body heat enveloped her, setting her own desire rocketing up.

  "Jesse," she gasped as he nuzzled her neck. She had to get control. "We don't know each other..."

  "We could get to know each other."

  "Too much has gone on between us."

  "I'll spend a lifetime making it up to you, atoning for my sins. I mean it, Susannah. Come with me to my homestead."

  Jesse's hands were moving up and down her trim waist, leaving fire in their wake. As the rough skin of his fingers caught on her fine silks, she suddenly wished she wasn't wearing so many clothes. "How am I to trust that you even have one?" Another thought struck her. "Does my friend Carrie even know you?"

  "Carrie Donovan?" Jesse lifted his head, and stepped back a little. She felt a loss where his body had been. "Of course. She and her husband are my brother's neighbors. And mine too, when I go back. Of course, if you come with me, you could see her."

  Susannah bit her lip. Part of her wanted more than anything to turn around and seduce him. She had no doubt it would be worth it.

  His hand stirred her hair, and she remembered how badly she needed a wash.

  "My bath's getting cold." This time she stepped away, and faced him.

  Jesse's intense gaze followed her. "If that's what you wish," he said with a little mocking smirk, and sauntered to the door. He paused before opening it. "Need me to help you scrub your back?"

  "Get out!"

  * * *

  After he left Susannah to her bath, Jesse paused outside the bedroom door for a moment. Every part of him, and one part in particular, strained to tell him to go back inside and break in his new wife. He was almost surprised at his restraint. He'd never let propriety stop him from wooing a woman before.

  Of course, this wasn't just any woman. This was Susannah, sophisticated yet wild, intelligent yet naive, pliant yet stubborn as a mule. He'd never met someone so fascinating and infuriating at the same time. Half the time he'd known her, he was torn between wanting to spank or serenade her. Certainly he wanted to do all manner of things to her body. Twice. But here was the biggest irony: she was untouchable, even though she was his lawfully wedded wife.

  He fully intended to let her go back to Boston, his bet with his brother be damned. He'd been a fool to think a well-born Bostonian could adapt to the wild frontier. They'd had their fun in letters, and the fantasy had swept them away. A lady like Susannah settling for a man like him would be like... a fairy queen marrying an ass. It wasn't fair to the queen or the ass. Queens don't live in pastures.

  Of course, once you got past her haughty manner, the baggage wasn't so bad, after all. She certainly clung very close to him on the final leg of the journey into town. Her warmth at his back, arms around his waist, stray blonde hairs tickling his neck: he wanted nothing more than to stop Jordan and spend a very educational afternoon learning his new wife's curves and teaching her just how to please him.

  And then when they got to the hotel and she got angry—he'd never forget the way her cheeks flushed and eyes sparkled. It was all he could do to keep from throwing the innkeeper out and making use of the bed, then washing her clean in the tub, then the bed again... which is why he finally broke down and tried to convince her to stay. It was a weak moment on his part, but it didn't sound like there was much for her back in Boston. He had held out this long only because a lady like her deserved a sight better than a borderline outlaw and vigilante. If she had come later in the summer, after his business with Doyle, he would've cleaned up his act, been ready to act the gentleman. Instead, she'd seen him at his very worst.

  And yet, she was still along for the ride. Could that mean... But no. If he was a gentleman, he'd let her go.

  The door in front of him creaked a little, and Jesse realized he was resting his clenched fist against the wood, ready to knock or break it down. Inside, soft little splashing noises heralded the start of his bride's bath.

  A second later, his cock was fit to burst, and he wrenched himself away from the door. No sense tormenting himself further, lusting after someone he could never have.

  Striding downstairs, he stopped abruptly when he saw a telltale red head sitting in the dining room.

  "Rosie."

  The woman smiled at his approach.

  "Jesse," she purred. "I was thinking you'd never come."

  Hooking a chair with his foot, he sat across from the painted lady. The woman masquerading as Rosie May was older than the real Rosie by almost twenty years, but Jesse's only prerequisite for the role was that she be female, redheaded, and willing. It'd been a few months of this woman pretending to be Rose Wilder to sway Doyle from his sister-in-law's trail, and the fake Rosie May didn't look the worse for it.

  In fact, by the way she was eyeing him, she was well rested and ready for some fun.

  Jesse sighed and shifted in his chair to relieve some of the pressure on his angry member.

  He'd slept with the redhead, of course, but no longer had a taste for red. Not anymore, with his blonde wife upstairs, naked in a tub.

  Clearing his throat, he got on with the business. "Tell me what you've been up to."

  The woman masquerading as Rosie May raised one slender eyebrow. "All business? Is there no room for play?"

  "Not at the moment."

  Her mouth curved knowingly. "It's the blonde, isn't it? You actually have feelings for her."

  He did, come to think of it, even beyond his throbbing cock. In fact, he'd be quite hurt when she boarded a coach for New England. He scowled at the thought, and Rosie May laughed.

  "Ah, how the mighty have fallen." Her foot prodded him under the table. "The great Oberon, head over heels. I never thought I'd see the day. After this is all done, are you going to take her back to your brother's cabin, make a little housewife out of the lady?"

  "No. The marriage is a sham. It's only for a little while," he said.

  "Does she know that? Because she sure seems settled as Mrs. Oberon Wilder."

  "She's getting on a stagecoach to go back home as soon as I can find one."

  "Hmm. So then it's up to you to stall her. I'm sure you can give her a good reason to stay. One giant reason." Rosie May deepened her voice into a throaty purr that should've had him rock hard. But all it did was make him think of Susannah's eyes widening at the sight of the quirt.

  Jesse sighed, and reaching into his pocket, tossed a parcel of money onto the table. Rosie May leaned forward, teasing forgotten.

  "Here
's the pay. The rest when the work is done."

  Rosie slid the money into her lap, counted it under the table, then gave a nod. "Let's talk business."

  * * *

  The bath did wonders for Susannah's mood, even if it didn't satiate her desire. After a thorough scrubbing, she rinsed with an extra pail of water, then, wrapping herself in a blanket, brushed out her hair a thousand times.

  At first, she tugged the blanket close around her, in case her Mr. Oberon walked in, but then she let the fabric fall open. It would serve him right if he walked in and saw her. Let him burn for her as she did for him.

  Of course, if he did come in through the door, he'd probably do as he pleased with her body and damn the consequences. She brushed savagely through the knots in her hair just thinking about it. He really was a scoundrel.

  A while later, dressed, with hair pinned up as best she could manage, Susannah decided to go look for her husband.

  How long did it take to find and commission a stagecoach? Assuming this town even had one. She grimaced at the thought of another week in such a place, even as her belly fluttered with anticipation of being holed up with Jesse for a few days.

  The flutters disappeared as soon as she walked into the dining room and saw Jesse sitting in close confidence with the redheaded whore. Susannah froze and stepped back, just out of view. She watched as the garish woman leaned across the table to put her hand on his shirt, and he just smiled back at her.

  Feeling suddenly sick, Susannah retreated fully to lean against the wall. She pressed her hand to her heart, as if she could push down the pain stabbing through her.

  The scoundrel. The cad! He had some nerve, pretending to care for her, almost kissing her and ordering hot baths, then making his escape to woo another woman! She never should've trusted him.

  Breathing hard, she tried to control the roiling storm in the pit of her stomach.

  "Mrs. Wilder," someone said in a jolly tone. Pulling a neutral expression over her face, she turned to see the British lord approaching with a large smile on his face. He had lost the ridiculously over-sized hat, but still wore a bright red bandana with his fine suit. The kerchief did him no favors if he meant it to help him blend in. For one thing, it was too clean.

  "Lord Chivington," she greeted him, hoping he wouldn't notice that she sounded faint.

  "I must say you look quite fine. In fact, I'm tempted to steal you away for a drink."

  Susannah studied the fair-haired lord. Lean and lanky, he was almost the opposite of her husband. Nevertheless, there was intelligence glinting behind the blue eyes, reminding her of Jesse's ever present smirk.

  He took her hand and kissed it, and for a moment, Susannah thought he could be handsome, if he'd lose the goofy airs.

  "I'm tempted to accept. My husband has disappeared on an errand," Susannah said, and stepped towards the inn door, away from the dining room.

  "Then, by all means, let us away to the pub. There's a jolly good spot just down the street." He held out his arm, and Susannah accepted it.

  Let Jesse finish his private assignation. If he could hang around and flirt with members of the opposite sex, then so could she.

  * * *

  An hour passed before she saw her husband again. He entered the drinking hole looking very sour, but imposing, his powerful form clad all in black. Susannah pretended not to notice him. Instead, she leaned forward to the Englishman sitting opposite her at the table, and laughed.

  "Oh, Lord Chivington, you are too funny."

  "Call me Sebastian, ma'am. Might as well. Out here they don't know what to do with an earl's son—tar and feather him, or serve him the brown sludge you colonists drink for tea."

  Sebastian guffawed at his own joke, and Susanna tittered loudly until a hard hand came down to grip her shoulder.

  "What— Oh, husband, it's you." She met Jesse's glower with fluttering eyelashes and a carefree smile. "Finish all your errands, my dear?"

  "Yes, my love," Jesse ground out as he sat down beside her.

  "Wilder! Welcome... just in time to buy me a drink." Chivington began to wave down the bartender, and Jesse used the moment to lean close to Susannah, under the pretense of kissing her cheek.

  "I've been looking for you everywhere," he growled in her ear.

  "Were you, darling? I'd finished my bath and was going to offer it to you before it got cold, husband, but your errands took so long." She swatted his shoulder lightly. "I was quite safe with Lord Chivington here. He's been telling me of his brave exploits up and down the plains." She swiveled to Chivington again, ignoring Jesse's dark presence at her side. "Sebastian, do tell my husband how you faced all the redskins in Fort Dodge."

  "Yes, tell us," Jesse said, crossing his arms and raising a brow.

  "Ah, your husband might remember it differently. Perhaps I could tell another story." Chivington coughed, and looked relieved when the bartender set down his tray. "Ah, here we are." He picked up his glass as soon as it hit the table. "To the newlyweds."

  Susannah toasted with hers, but Jesse stole and shot it before she could drink.

  "Excuse me," she snapped.

  Her husband looked a lot happier when he set down her now empty glass. "Drinking on an empty stomach, baggage? Are you sure that's wise?" He winked at her before slugging his own whiskey, and she nearly lost her temper.

  Chivington burst out laughing. "You call your wife 'baggage'?"

  Fighting the urge to stand up and clout her rogue across the ear, Susannah turned her attention back to the lord. "He keeps calling me that, even though it's most improper. Have you ever heard of such a term?"

  "I have, by Jove. In fact, he probably learned it from me—I used it all the time. Of course, never for a lady of your beauty and grace." Sebastian guffawed again, and Jesse joined in.

  Susannah glared at them both, and the Englishman turned his laugh into a cough. "I say, Wilder, do you want to get something to eat?"

  "You hungry?" Jesse raised a brow at Susannah.

  "We already ate," she informed him coolly. "Lord Sebastian isn't so inconsiderate to leave a lady wanting for sustenance."

  It was Jesse's turn to glower at the other two.

  "Just beans and bacon, the usual." Sebastian leaned back in his chair, waving a hand like a capsized sailor flagging a rescue boat. "A plate of chuck and another round, my good man."

  "Are you sure you have time to sit with us and eat?" Susannah asked her husband. "I'd hate to pull you away from all your errands. Sebastian would see me home." Her sweet smile had a razor's edge.

  His jaw clenched. "My business is finished."

  "Well, good. Shame Rosie May couldn't join us," Susannah said, and watched her husband's brow quirk in confusion. Rage shot through her. How dare he be kind to her, and just as her heart began to soften, betray her! Did he think she was stupid? Did he honestly think he could sneak around behind her back and get away with it?

  The barkeep came by with food, and Sebastian practically leaped up to welcome him. "Delicious grub, old bean. Do tuck in," he said to Jesse, before casting a pleading glance to the proprietor. "More whiskey."

  Jesse tucked in, and though Susannah shot daggers with her eyes for his whole meal, only Sebastian seemed to notice.

  "So how did you two, er, lovebirds meet?"

  "He wrote to me," Susannah said flatly.

  Shoveling food into his mouth, Jesse confirmed with a nod.

  "Good writer then, eh?"

  "Indeed. Tell, me, Sebastian. What do you think of a man who lies to woo a woman? What measure of deceit do you think can be excused by love?"

  If possible, Sebastian's fair skin turned paler. "I wouldn't know how to answer that, milady. Never been in love, you see."

  "But I'm sure you wouldn't do such a thing—leave a trail of lies or half truths to lead on a woman."

  "No... not unless there was good reason."

  "I thought so." Susannah smiled triumphantly, and laid her hand on Sebastian's arm. "I knew you were a t
rue gentleman."

  There was a loud clank as Jesse finished his meal and threw down his fork. "If you'll excuse us, my wife and I are leaving. We have things we need to discuss."

  "Yes, of course, jolly good." Chivington jumped out of his chair to bow his goodbye. "Mrs. Wilder."

  Jesse wrenched her chair back, and Susannah found herself half-helped, half hauled up by her arm. "So lovely to sit with you, Sebastian." She couldn't stop herself from cooing. "It's been a pleasure." Susannah gave the man her brightest smile and a little wave. She could almost hear her husband's temper crackle. Served him right for lavishing attention on Rosie May. Did he think he was the only one who knew how to flirt?

  Jesse's arm clamped around her, to an onlooker he would seem a solicitous husband. But as they grew nearer to the room, his stride had quickened to the point he was herding her along. He opened the door and practically threw her into the room.

  "What in tarnation were you doing?" he asked as soon as he shut the door, his face hard and his big body stalking her.

  In the center of the room, Susannah stood her ground, even though her whole body quivered at the sight of his handsome form bearing down on her. "You watch your language, Mr. Oberon. Or Wilder. Or whoever you are." She pulled off her bonnet and turned away to find a mirror, pretending to ignore him. Jesse pulled her back.

  "I'll thank you not to turn away when I'm speaking to you." His green eyes shot sparks at hers, but she wasn't intimidated. A heat was rushing through her, a wave of excitement sweeping away all her good sense. She leaned forward, hands on her hips.

  "Oh, excuse me that I don't hang on your every word like Rosie May."

  "You certainly did with Chivington. 'Sebastian, Sebastian'." He mimicked her high voice and her cheeks heated. "Is it too much to ask you not throw yourself at men when I'm sitting right there?"

  "I was just being polite. It's nice to be in the company of a gentleman after all these days," she sniffed.

  Jesse's expression grew stormy. "You know exactly what you were doing. You were flirting outrageously. Does marriage mean so little that you would take up with another before we get ours annulled?"