A Marriage Deal with the Outlaw

by Harper St. George

  He echoed that sound with his own deep-throated groan and his lips moved down her neck in a trail of hot, openmouthed kisses. His hand moved to the tie on her wrapper and tugged it until it fell open, leaving her with just the thin, soft cotton night rail. His palm roamed up over her belly to settle over her breast, and she nearly jumped out of her skin when he touched her sensitive nipple through the fabric.

  As his hand shifted to cup her breast, his thumb stroked over her nipple. She bit her lip to keep another moan from escaping, but couldn’t stop herself from pushing her hips up into him. His leg slipped between her thighs, and the coarse hair on his bare calf abraded her skin where her gown had ridden up, sending shivers through her body. His erection strained against her thigh, so impossibly hard she could barely believe it. She’d had no idea that a man would be so hard.

  “Carolina,” he whispered against her overheated skin, the tip of his tongue tasting her. When she realized he was bound for her breast, she gasped aloud. It had never occurred to her that a man would want suckle her, but that’s just what he did. His hot mouth closed over her and he sucked her through the thin fabric. His teeth scraped across her puckered nipple, and there was no stopping the cry that fell from her lips as her entire body tightened.

  A wave of need rolled through her, sending a dart of pleasure straight to her core. The pulse between her legs became a full-on ache for some sort of gratification. “Castillo,” she whispered as she shifted against him. Her fingers delved into his hair, holding him against her.

  She hadn’t even realized he’d moved until the cool night air touched her leg. He shoved his hand under her gown, pushing the thin cotton fabric up to her hip. His knee pressed against the inside of her thigh, urging her to open for him, so she did, tilting her leg out to give him access. He groaned against her breast when his fingers found her swollen and wet for his touch.

  “Oh, God,” she whispered, arching up toward his touch. She’d never imagined in all her life that a man’s touch could feel so good. Dipping briefly into her wetness, his two middle fingers moved up to circle her swollen clitoris. She bit her lip again to keep from making a sound and found herself circling her hips to counter the friction and the ache he was building. Very soon, quicker than she’d realized it would happen, that motion wasn’t enough. She dug her fingertips into his shoulders and shifted restlessly as the ache within her expanded and she felt an indescribable pressure building inside her. “Please,” she whispered.

  “Dammit, Carolina.” He held himself over her as if he’d realized what he was doing, but didn’t stop touching her between her thighs. “I shouldn’t be doing this to you.”

  Her arms tightened around him at the mere hint that he might stop. One leg curled around his thigh. She felt as if she couldn’t touch him enough, couldn’t get enough contact with him. “Castillo, I need...” What did she need? His fingertips slanted over her clitoris, giving her just enough pressure to take the edge off the relentless ache.

  “What do you need?” His voice was a hoarse rasp against her lips as he kissed her and his hips pushed against her in a faint thrust.

  “More...you...more.” His shaft was so hard against her that she realized exactly what she needed. She needed him to fill her. It’d be so easy to push the sheet down from his hips and free him. He’d already be there, ready to thrust himself inside her.

  Taking pity on her, his fingers moved down to her opening. She nearly came out of her skin when he circled her and eased a fingertip inside, stretching her to accommodate him. It was a slow in and out movement that had her desperate for more, until finally he pressed his broad finger deep and she saw stars behind her eyelids.

  “Are you a virgin, Carolina?” He kept up a gentle rhythm, but he didn’t try to fit another finger inside her.

  “Yes.” It came out more as a breath than a formed word.

  He mumbled something. It had to be cursing with the way he growled it, though he spoke Spanish and she couldn’t say for sure. Before she could respond, his mouth covered hers once more, and his finger found her clitoris again. He alternated between touching her there and stroking deep. When her body began to tremble from the pleasure, he spoke to her, his words soft and encouraging. The fact that they were in Spanish only somehow increased her pleasure. She didn’t need to understand them. It was enough that his smooth, deep voice was saying them to her.

  Finally, everything within her narrowed to his touch on her body until she exploded. Waves of pleasure rushed over her, and he kissed her to keep her silent. When she finally stopped trembling, he took his hand away and pulled down her night rail. She was breathing hard and her limbs were leaden, but she wasn’t finished. She wanted to touch him. When he moved to her side, she reached for the sheet, but he stopped her with his hand on hers. She wasn’t willing to give him up just yet, though, so she ran her palms over his chest, savoring her ability to touch him. He closed his eyes and shivered as he leaned into her touch. Her fingers delved into the hair on the back of his head to pull him back to her. He kissed her hard, his hand going back to cover her breast. She sighed against his lips.

  “We can’t go further, Carolina.” His voice was low and rough, raking across her senses. “That was already too far.”

  “But I want to touch you.”

  “No.” He said it with such authority, it brought her up short and she pulled her hand from his chest. “If you touch me, I’ll go too far.”

  Her heart raced at the implications of that. They should stop. Somewhere in her mind, she knew that. He was saying that if she touched him, he’d take her. Her body woke up to a brand-new state of desire just from the thought of that, but he was right.

  He sat up on the side of the bed and took her hand to help her sit beside him. Uncertain of what to do or say, she tensed to rise, but he reached over and touched her face. His palm was warm and her skin prickled beneath his fingertips, longing for more of his touch. “Thank you. For what you gave me just now and for releasing me from our agreement.”

  She nodded. “I’m sorry things can’t be different between us. I like you, Castillo. I... I like you very much.” It was true. She admired his dedication to his grandfather and his drive for justice. She appreciated that he seemed to understand her own ambition, when almost everyone else didn’t. She relished the way he’d stood up to Mr. Bonham on her behalf. Suddenly it dawned on her. He was everything she’d ever thought she wanted in a husband. Strong but kind, intelligent and compassionate, honorable yet passionate.

  Oh, God. If given half the chance, she could love him. But that couldn’t be. Her future was in Boston. His was in Texas or maybe even here. She actually had no idea what he planned to do after he found Derringer, which only proved it wouldn’t work out. None of that even included the fact that he was a dangerous man. Loving him was sure to bring her heartache. The very idea of it terrified her, but the logic didn’t do anything to stop her heart from opening up and letting him in.

  Since she couldn’t rely on her perfectly logical brain to protect her, she decided that distance was the only thing that could. Pulling her wrapper around her body, she murmured a hasty, “Good night,” and fled the room before he could stop her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Caroline spent the next morning in a daze. Part of it was that she couldn’t stop reliving the night with Castillo. She’d never imagined that such pleasure could be had with a man. Between all the whispers and giggles of the women of her acquaintance, she’d assumed that it could be pleasant, but Castillo’s touch had been so much more than that. And the connection between them went far deeper than pleasure. He touched her and it felt like she was rediscovering a part of herself she’d lost, or maybe never even known about. He looked into her eyes and saw who she was, not who he wanted her to be.

  Nothing had changed overnight. She was still going back to Boston and he was still searching for Derringer, so
her brooding was quite pointless, but she couldn’t seem to snap herself out of it. Castillo and Hunter had already left when she came down for breakfast that morning. Mr. Jameson had said they had some business in town to attend to, and she could only assume that meant Derringer. In addition to brooding, that meant she was worrying about him, too. That worry was a perfect reminder of why they’d never work out together. She’d end up hurt in the end.

  “Caro?” Aunt Prudie stood in the doorway of the parlor, a frown on her face. “Are you all right?”

  Caroline had been staring off into the cold fireplace, a book forgotten on her lap. “Yes, of course. Why do you ask?”

  “You didn’t hear the bell? Your mother is arriving.”

  The housekeeper had taken to ringing a bell located near the front door whenever new guests had been spotted coming down the long driveway. Since the parlor was located just off the front hallway, Caroline should’ve heard it. She would’ve heard it had she not been lost in thoughts of Castillo. “Oh, I suppose I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “Is this about Castillo Jameson? When you said this morning that you’d both decided it best not to continue your flirtation, I wasn’t happy but agreed. He doesn’t live in Boston, so I’m not certain how that would’ve turned out.” Aunt Prudie walked over and put her hand on Caroline’s shoulder. “But you seem sad, dear. Did he mean more to you than you let on?”

  Lying to her aunt had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. When she answered she tried to stay as close to the truth as possible. “He does mean something to me. It’s strange because I’ve only known him for such a short time, and yet I feel as if I do know him. But I also know we don’t have a future.” She was coming to realize that what she felt for him was on the cusp of being so much deeper than she let on. She feared that if she blinked she might fall right into those feelings...especially after last night.

  Aunt Prudie clucked her tongue and cupped Caroline’s cheek. “I’m sorry, dear. I like him, too. I think sometimes we just have to have faith that everything works out as it’s meant to be.”

  Caroline nodded, though she wasn’t entirely sure how she was supposed to find comfort in the fact that she and Castillo weren’t meant to be. The front door opened and people could be heard coming inside. It was probably for the best. She’d have spent the day moping and pretending to read if left to her own devices. Placing her book on the table beside the chair, she plastered on a smile and followed Aunt Prudie into the foyer.

  “Caroline!” Her mother squealed and rushed over to pull her into an embrace. A familiar rose scent met her nose as Caroline hugged her. When her mother pulled back, her smile was so radiant and full of love and happiness that Caroline immediately felt awful for the uncharitable thoughts she’d been having about her mother. Perhaps after a chat they’d be able to come to an agreement about school. Perhaps if she simply agreed to marry within the next year. But even that compromise made her stomach churn.

  “Hello, mother, how was your trip?”

  “Wonderful, darling. I can’t wait to tell you all the things we did in New York. The shopping was marvelous. I bought you some things and I’ll show you as soon as our bags are brought in.” Then she turned to Aunt Prudie. “Prudence, it’s lovely to see you.”

  As her aunt and mother spoke, Mr. Jameson made his way into the foyer. Emmy was upstairs undergoing a final dress fitting, so probably wouldn’t be down for a while.

  Isabelle, Hunter’s mother and Mr. Jameson’s estranged wife, swept in behind Caroline’s mother. Her blonde hair was streaked with strands of silver, swept up elegantly onto the crown of her head and topped with a black velvet hat that matched her traveling dress. Caroline walked forward and greeted her. The woman responded with a very cold and bland, “Good afternoon, Caroline. Lovely to see you.” Her gaze lit on Aunt Prudie before moving back to her estranged husband. “Wilhelmina!”

  Willy stepped out of the shadow of the stairs where she’d stood unobtrusively observing the gathering. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Jameson. It’s good to have you back.”

  “Have our bags unloaded and I’d like a bath immediately. The dust out here is insufferable.” Walking toward the stairs, she paused at her husband. “Where is my son?”

  “Good to see you, Isabelle.” He smiled at her, glossing over her rudeness. “Hunter’s in town. An urgent business matter, but he should be home for supper.”

  “I see you’ve yet to teach him any manners. I’ll be in my room until supper. Tell him I look forward to meeting his bride.” She didn’t wait for a reply as she swept up the stairs, saying a brisk word to Caroline’s father as she marched past him.

  Mr. Jameson appeared to be unmoved by his wife’s demeanor. He kept a slight smile on his face as he called to her back, “I certainly will.”

  Caroline sighed as she shared a knowing glance with Aunt Prudie. She genuinely regretted that Emmy would have to endure such a woman for a mother-in-law, and thanked her stars that she’d only have to spend a few days in the woman’s presence. She couldn’t understand how her mother could be friends with such a cold woman, but Kathleen Hartford was a social butterfly and had never had trouble making friends with anyone.

  “Samuel!” Her mother held her arms out as she hurried to the foot of the stairs to greet her husband.

  Caroline’s father smiled broadly and picked up his pace down the stairs until he pulled her into his arms. “Kathleen. I missed you.” The sight was so joyfully intimate that Caroline had to look away. She’d always hoped to have that in a marriage, but now she realized how naive she’d been.

  “Hello, Miss Hartford.” The masculine voice came from the open front door. Caroline turned to see a tall man step into the foyer. He was lean, handsome in a cultured sort of way, with light brown hair and eyes, and he was vaguely familiar. She searched her mind for some memory of him. Perhaps they’d met at a function of some sort. He smiled at her, and it was a very knowing smile. His gaze was direct and shrewd.

  “Caroline.” Her mother’s voice drew her attention. The woman beamed at her as she crossed the foyer to stand next to her, Caroline’s father behind her.

  He was smiling, obviously thrilled to have his wife in his arms, but when he saw the man standing in the doorway, the smile fell from his face. “Kathleen, we shouldn’t—”

  Her mother turned and patted his cheek. “Nonsense, Samuel, now is perfect.” Then she turned back to the young man. “Caroline, this is Grant Miller. Don’t you remember meeting him last year at the Christmas gala?” Without even giving Caroline time to respond, she hurried on. “I invited him to come out with us, and he said he’d never been to Helena and thought it sounded like a wonderful idea.”

  Caroline vaguely remembered the man from some event. If she recalled correctly, his father had donated a generous amount to the hospital. She didn’t know what that had to do with anything or why he’d want to come all the way to Helena for the wedding of someone he didn’t even know. None of that made any sense. When she realized that no one was saying anything, Caroline cleared her throat and offered her hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Miller.” He took her hand and gave a very courtly little bow over it as he returned her greeting.

  “Oh, Kathleen.” Aunt Prudie’s voice was so low, Caroline might’ve thought she’d imagined the words had her mother not acknowledged them with a wave of her hand and a shake of her head. It caused the first crack in the mental barrier Caroline had somehow managed to keep in place this whole time, while her stomach churned on the knowledge that something was happening. Even then, even with the proof of her mother’s deception standing there and staring her down, Caroline couldn’t quite bring herself to believe what was happening.

  “I had a long talk with Grant’s parents back in Boston, and we’ve agreed that you both would make such a lovely couple.”

  “Mother...” Caroline couldn’t qu
ite get her mind around what she wanted to say. Her entire body went cold and prickly, and then she felt numb.

  “Well, Mrs. Hartford.” The man smiled and dipped his head in the perfect semblance of modesty, but his eyes weren’t timid at all as they settled back on Caroline. “I think Caroline and I should get to know one another before we settle on calling us a lovely couple.”

  Caroline clasped her hands before her so hard she was sure her fingers were turning red. Her own mother had invited this man all the way across the country to court her. It was the most outlandish thing she’d ever heard. “I’m not clear on what’s going on here,” she began, though she was pretty certain that she knew. “Mr. Miller is here to court me?”

  Her mother laughed and linked her arm with one of Caroline’s. “It’s a little more than that. Why don’t we have some tea while we discuss it? Prudie? Could you arrange some tea and refreshments for us in—” They came to a stop in the front parlor where Caroline had so recently been daydreaming about Castillo. “This should do nicely. Have it brought in here, Prudie dear.”

  Aunt Prudie squeezed her arm just before she hurried off to see to the tea. Before Caroline knew it, she was sliding down to sit on the settee while her father took the chair she’d vacated. Grant Miller was, mercifully, absent. Whether he’d stayed in the foyer or had been ushered off to some other part of the house, she didn’t know nor did she care. “I don’t understand what’s happening.”

  “Caroline—” her father began, but her mother cut him off.

  “Caroline, we feel—”

  “Kathleen.” Her father’s sharp tone drew them both up short. He rarely spoke in any way that wasn’t calm and measured. When it was clear her mother would cede him the floor, he began again. “Caroline, as I explained to you, and as your mother’s letter explained, we feel that you need to be married soon before the opportunity seems less...attractive to some suitors. I, personally, feel that any man who would eschew your hand after your education, doesn’t deserve it, but we live in the world in which we live.” He shrugged as if he couldn’t comprehend that world. “Your girlhood friends are all married now, or at least engaged.”