For sure and certain Quinn had no sentimental attachment to her and she would only get her heart broken if she yearned for more than he was prepared to give.
Piper sank beneath the water to wash her hair, then shook her head in self-disgust. Yesterday she had all but demanded that Quinn make love to her. Today she had turned a complete about-face.
For a woman who claimed to know her own mind she certainly had become wishy-washy, hadn’t she?
Why was that? she asked herself pensively. Because she was falling in love with a man who didn’t want or need her in his life and she was trying to protect her heart? Because she was afraid that ending up in his bed would verify that her feelings for him went far beyond desire? She was pretty sure that if she offered Quinn her body that her foolish heart would go right along with it.
Well, so much for trying to adopt men’s policy of passion for the sake of passion. She sighed heavily. This was a fine time to discover that she was a sentimental romantic and that deep down inside she really wished Quinn would fall madly in love with her.
But that was not going to happen. If she had the good sense God gave a goose she wouldn’t let herself forget that.
After rinsing her hair, Piper scrubbed herself squeaky clean, then grabbed the towel to dry off. She was going into this wedding ceremony with a clear head, she decided. All that mattered was obtaining that official piece of paper that had her name scribbled beside Quinn’s.
And honestly, she was better off not knowing what it was like to share Quinn’s bed.
Reaffirming her vow that she didn’t need a man to complicate her life, Piper dressed in the frilly blue satin gown she had packed in her satchel. Quinn kept telling her to be very sure about what she wanted. Now she was. She had no illusions. No silly fantasies. And by damn, she was going to be as detached and distant as Quinn, she promised herself.
Piper twisted her damp hair into a fashionable bun, then pinned the curly mass atop her head. After a quick glance at her reflection in the mirror, she strode determinedly across the room. Mrs. Piper Callahan. In name only, she repeated silently as she grabbed hold of the door latch. What was in a name anyway? It didn’t change who she was or what she wanted from life. She was sticking to her original objective of reuniting with Penny and becoming a teacher.
And all men everywhere could go hang! They were a constant source of frustration and she didn’t need any of them. This was her life and she was living it by her own rules for once. She was going to become one of the new breed of women and no one was going to stop her from enjoying her freedom and independence, she decided resolutely.
Quinn nearly swallowed his tongue when Piper swept into the hall, garbed in the fanciest dress he had ever seen. The diving neckline, stitched with delicate ribbon and lace, accentuated the rise of her creamy breasts. The trim-fitting gown emphasized the small indentation of her waist and glided provocatively over the shapely curve of her hips.
Sweet mercy, she looked as if she had stepped from a book of fairy tales and Quinn couldn’t drag his eyes off her. She took his breath away when she was all spruced up like the fashionable lady she was.
The differences between them couldn’t have been more obvious, Quinn mused. She looked like a fairy princess.
He looked half-civilized—which he was.
“Give me a minute,” he requested as he scooped up his saddlebags and darted into the room.
Quinn jerked off his clothes, then fastened himself into the gambler’s garb—minus the gaudy red vest. Clean-shaven though he was, his hair dangled around his shoulders in disarray. He untied the beaded headband, pulled his thick hair back, braided it then secured it in place. He tucked the braid beneath the collar of his white shirt.
A little better, he decided as he appraised his reflection. His clothes didn’t begin to compare to Piper’s expensive gown, but this was the best he could do on short notice. He frowned when he realized this was the first time he had made a conscious attempt to give a better impression of himself.
His frown deepened when he admitted that he wasn’t doing it for himself. He was doing it for Piper’s sake. Because her opinion of him mattered.
Which said a little too much about how important she had become to him.
Deciding not to dwell on that uneasy thought, Quinn stepped back into the hall.
Piper surveyed his appearance, then smiled wryly. “You didn’t have to change clothes on my account. I thought you looked perfectly fine, just the way you were.”
Her comment pleased him. But since he had stumbled over that unnerving epiphany a moment earlier he wasn’t as surprised by the feelings of pride that assailed him. Bottom line, Quinn thought. Everything Piper said and did was beginning to influence him and he needed to guard against that.
“Thank you. You look breathtaking. All decked out in your finery. But you didn’t have to change on my account, either.” He extended his arm politely. “Shall we?”
Arm in arm, they descended the steps and Quinn felt as if he were escorting royalty. He blinked, startled, when he saw his battalion—minus Tom Pendleton who had ridden to Van Horn to gather reinforcements—waiting by the abandoned counter.
“The clerk lit out of here like a house afire,” Vance Cooper remarked as his gaze flooded over Piper in masculine approval. “He looked a mite roughed up. That your doing, Cal?”
“Piper had to fend off his attack,” Quinn explained.
“And you provided the muscle to emphasize her distaste,” Butler speculated as his eyes roamed appreciatively over Piper. “I figure we have spare time while that informant runs off to tell his cohorts that we’re in town and the Mexicans are in jail. We thought we might attend your wedding.”
“Should be something to see,” Remington Simms, the dark-haired Ranger said, grinning. “Congrats, by the way, Cal. Don’t know what the lady sees in you, but I guess we all have our special brand of charm.”
Quinn ignored the teasing grins that flew his direction. He knew damn well what his associates were thinking. Mismatch if ever there was one.
When he glanced down at Piper’s shiny blond head, undeniable emotion hit him like a bullet in the chest. His wife-to-be? This beguiling heiress, who probably had a pedigree as long as his arm, was going to take his name? He still couldn’t believe they were going through with this, couldn’t believe she wanted to be hitched to the likes of him.
He should have kept his big mouth shut and dreamed up another solution to her problem with her father. For instance, he could have threatened the man within an inch of his life if he tried to interfere in Piper’s plans.
Quinn could have done that easily enough. He was the Rangers’ answer to persuading reluctant outlaws to offer needed information, after all. He was pretty sure he could have brought Roarke Sullivan around to Piper’s way of thinking. So why had he offered marriage?
He was still mulling over that bothersome question when the procession stepped into the justice of the peace’s office. Quinn came down with the worst case of the jitters he had ever experienced, thinking that his motives weren’t as honorable as he wanted to believe. He shot Piper another uneasy glance, noting that she had that determined look he had come to recognize at a glance. Well, if she had the gumption to marry him then he would see this through.
He wished he could figure out why he had suggested this marriage in the first place. Could it have been because of vanity? Good God, was he like every other man who secretly wished to claim her as his own—just because of her striking beauty and enormous wealth? Damn it, that put him in the same category with the long list of suitors she had rejected. Quinn cringed at the thought of being included in that list.
And what if she met some young officer at the fort and fell in love? Then what was she supposed to do about the husband she had married for convenience? The solution to one problem could cause more problems, Quinn mused as he watched the official fumble around in his desk to locate the necessary document. What if Piper decided to divorce him in si
x months? How would he feel about cutting her loose to marry another man? Or worse, what if she considered divorce an unacceptable solution and decided to have an affair with someone else?
“Where are those confounded licenses?” the official muttered, jolting Quinn back to the present. “Ah, yes, here we go.”
The bald-headed justice of the peace laid the license on his desk, then glanced up. “Do you have a ring?”
Quinn dug into his pocket to retrieve the silver band he had purchased at the general store. It was cheap and unpretentious, but it was the best he had to offer on the spur of the moment.
It was an appropriate symbol of himself, he thought as he tucked the ring on his pinky finger for safekeeping.
His mind reeled as the official conducted the brief ceremony. Quinn choked out his I-dos and Piper did the same. And suddenly, they were man and wife.
When the official told him to kiss his bride, Quinn half turned to her, troubled by his ulterior motivations and feeling as awkward as all get-out about kissing her in front of his grinning colleagues. But when he stared into those silver-blue eyes and focused on those lush lips, he forgot there was anyone else in the office.
His mouth slanted over hers and his pulse kicked up. When he raised his head the taste of her was on his lips and desire sizzled in his loins. He was still staring into those hypnotic eyes when the Rangers closed in around him to pat him on the shoulder and whisper that they were envious of the fact that he had taken such a lovely bride. Disgruntled, he watched the five men place smacking pecks on Piper’s cheek to offer their congratulations and good wishes.
Quinn slipped his arm possessively around her waist and shepherded her toward the door before his so-called friends helped themselves to a second round of kisses.
“Not so fast,” the official called after him. “Sign your John Henry or this won’t be legal.”
Piper pivoted around to sign on the dotted line, then handed the pen to Quinn. With a quick slash of ink he made their marriage legal. Amused, he watched Piper roll up the document, then cram it into the sleeve of her gown.
She had what she wanted.
Why didn’t he feel completely satisfied with this arrangement?
When they exited the Rangers announced they were going to the saloon to drink a toast to the newlyweds.
Piper glanced up at him. “I have reconsidered and decided you are right.”
He frowned, bemused. “I’m right about what?”
“There is no need to make more of this marriage than what it is intended to be. If you want to join your friends, then feel free to go. I will have no difficulty occupying myself.”
He should have been relieved that she had come to her senses and decided that consummating the marriage was a bad idea. Instead he felt hugely disappointed, even if it had been his suggestion. Nodding curtly, he turned to leave.
“Unless you can think of some reason why—”
“There’s no reason to complicate matters,” he interrupted abruptly, then mentally kicked himself when her shoulders stiffened and she glanced the other way.
“Right,” she murmured. “Well then, I presume we will be leaving for the fort at dawn. I will see you then.”
“Piper?”
When she turned back to him he noticed that her smile was strained and her chin had tilted to a defiant angle. “Good day, Callahan. Thank you for your cooperation. I appreciate the gesture.”
And then she swept regally across the street, and Quinn wanted to shake her for being as detached as he tried to be. He expelled a frustrated sigh, recalling that when Piper was forthright and honest with her feelings he squirmed in his skin. When she closed up tighter than a clam he felt…well, he wasn’t sure how he felt. Deprived, perhaps. A mite shut out, ignored and dissatisfied.
Hell! He had been married all of ten minutes and already he didn’t know how to deal with his wife.
Scowling, Quinn traipsed down the street, then halted when he saw Red Hawk and Spotted Deer.
“So you made this marriage legal in your culture as well?” Red Hawk asked.
Quinn nodded.
Spotted Deer watched Piper disappear into the hotel, then turned his attention back to Quinn. “What strange custom doesn’t allow a man to accompany his wife to his bed?” He shook his head in confusion. “I will never understand the ways of the palefaces, even if I now dress like one while riding with the Rangers.”
“I will never understand women. One in particular,” Quinn muttered in English.
The Comanches stared curiously at him.
“Never mind. I’ll fetch you a drink to celebrate. Might even have a drink—or three—myself.”
Then he walked into the saloon, wondering why Piper had become distant and standoffish today. Had he done something to upset her? Had he made her feel excluded during the trek to Catoosa Gulch? Or had she simply come to her senses and realized the worst thing she could do was to become physically involved with a man so far below her social status?
Quinn had felt rejected, discarded and unwanted plenty of times in his life. But every insecurity and inadequacy he had ever encountered converged on him abruptly.
Well, so what if Piper had changed her mind about bedding him. She wasn’t the only female in town who could accommodate him. He could find companionship if he wanted it. And from someone who knew how the game was supposed to be played, he reminded himself.
On that sour thought he walked into the saloon to join his compatriots.
Piper paced from wall to wall, telling herself that she had made the right decision by retracting her request to experiment with passion. Too bad restless need had her fidgeting and wishing for something to occupy her mind.
Blast it, Quinn could have said something if he wanted to consummate their marriage. She had given him the opening and he had rejected it immediately. And why would he turn down such an offer? It didn’t make sense.
Men! she thought in frustration. She would never figure out what made their minds work. Piper threw up her hands, muttered under her breath, and then shed her gown. She hurled the expensive garment against the wall in a fit of temper then scolded herself for behaving childishly.
When the license rolled from her dress sleeve she scooped it up. She had what she needed—the document that placed her beyond Roarke’s control. It was better this way, she tried to convince herself for the umpteenth time. She had come to realize that she wanted all or nothing from Quinn. If she couldn’t have his love then she wouldn’t accept his lust, because she would ultimately wind up getting hurt.
“You are going to drive yourself crazy with thoughts like that,” she admonished herself. “I doubt Quinn has been shown enough affection in his life to know what love is. Determined as you are, you can’t force him to feel something for you that he doesn’t feel. And you can’t fault him because friendship is all he can offer you, either.”
And curse those bandits for their untimely interruption last night, she fumed as she went back to circumnavigating the perimeter of her room. She could have satisfied her feminine curiosity and she wouldn’t be wondering what she had missed and second-guessing herself right now.
She had no right whatsoever to be annoyed with Quinn, she reminded herself again. He had done nothing but save her life about half a dozen times, teach her to survive in the wilds and then marry her for her convenience.
He had done everything that a woman could ask of a man—except love her back.
“Stop wanting what you can’t have,” she scowled at herself.
Piper flounced on the bed and watched the lantern light flicker over the cracked plaster on the ceiling. Instead of wallowing in misery she should be anticipating her reunion with her sister and mentally preparing herself for her encounter with her father. A shame that Quinn’s image kept bounding across the center stage of her mind to distract her.
The long and short of it was that, despite her sensible decision to marry him so she could gain control of her own destiny, she wanted Qui
nn, desired him. But the depressing truth was that he didn’t need her. Her only lure and appeal was that she was female.
And if he sought out another women on their wedding night she was going to strangle him!
Quinn did not make a habit of overindulging in whiskey because he preferred to keep his senses sharp and his wits about him. But he was sorry to say that he showed no restraint whatsoever while drinking with his friends.
He was shamelessly drunk when he finally wobbled from the saloon. His bleary gaze went immediately to the hotel where a dim light burned in room seven.
“The hell with her,” he mumbled as he staggered down the street.
It was her fault that he couldn’t see straight right now. Her fault that the prospect of seeking out another female felt like betrayal and held no appeal for him.
This is what happened when a man stopped being realistic and started entertaining impossible whims, he decided.
And why had she changed her mind this evening? Quinn frowned. Or at least he thought he did. His facial muscles were so numb that he couldn’t be sure. Well, he was gonna march right up there and ask her why she had decided not to consummate their marriage. She could tell him the truth flat-out like she used to do before he did whatever the hell he had done that caused her to retreat emotionally from him.
“Yeah, that’s wha’ I’ll do. Jus’ ask her,” he mumbled. “Ooofff—” Quinn staggered back when he collided with a solid form in the darkness.
“Where are you going, Gray Owl?” Red Hawk asked.
“To see my wife.”
Spotted Owl turned him around then gestured east. “This direction. But I think you have had too much firewater.”
Quinn shrugged off their concern and lurched from their grasp. Straightening his twisted jacket, he weaved unsteadily down the street. “I’m takin’ Pipe’ to the fort, t’morrow. Report to Butler.”
Carol Finch Page 17
