Daisy

by Greenwood, Leigh

  She wanted Tyler to make love to her.

  That thought was even more shocking than knowing she was in love with him. What could she be thinking? All her life her parents had drummed it into her head that her only possession of any real value was her virginity. Here she was wanting to give it away to a bearded mountain man she had no chance of marrying. If she didn't know better, she'd swear the bullet had affected her brain.

  Daisy had stepped into the tub and settled down into the water before Tyler returned. She felt completely vulnerable, as through the curtain were transparent. She found herself sitting with her arms across her chest, her hands hugging her shoulders. She felt foolish, but couldn't drive the feeling away. Every time she touched herself, she imagined it was Tyler doing it.

  Her skin was ultra sensitive. Even the lapping water sent shivers through her body. Her nipples hardened until they were achingly sensitive. A feeling of nervous excitement had settled in her belly. She began to experience a feeling in her feminine parts she had never felt before. In a matter of minutes Daisy felt about ready to jump out of her skin.

  Resolutely pushing aside every thought of Tyler, Daisy stood up to dry her body. She was intentionally very rough, pommeling her flesh, rubbing her skin until it glowed pink from the abrasion, anything to destroy the feelings that were threatening to destroy her control.

  She dressed quickly and stepped back into the room. Tyler sat reading a book. He put it aside.

  "I want you to cut my hair," he said.

  His request floored her. "I don't know how."

  "It's not difficult. Just keep cutting until it's about the same length as Zac's."

  Tyler's brown, wavy hair fell to his shoulders. She would have to cut nearly as much off his head as he had hers. She felt a shiver of satisfaction, but thrust it aside, ashamed of it. Tyler had cut her hair because it was necessary.

  "How long has it been since anybody cut your hair?" she asked.

  "Years."

  "Why do you want me to cut it now?"

  "It's time."

  Typical answer from Tyler. She figured it was just as well he didn't know she'd fallen in love with him. That would probably dry up his conversation entirely.

  Tyler seated himself in the same chair she had occupied and handed her the scissors. Daisy was reluctant to take them, but Tyler continued to hold them out to her.

  "Okay, but you'll have nobody to blame but yourself if it turns out a mess."

  She wasn't totally without experience. She had cut her father's hair, but his hair was nothing like Tyler's luxuriant growth. She hesitated to start.

  "Hurry up. The water will soon be hot."

  Grasping a handful of hair, Daisy held it straight out from Tyler's head and cut it off. It fell to the floor, a silent accuser, but not nearly as powerful as the gap in Tyler's hair. Daisy set to work trimming all around until the hair was off his collar. Then with painstaking care, she proceeded to cut it short all over his head.

  Daisy found it exciting to see Tyler's ears appear from under the mass of hair. Strange, but she'd thought of him as an older man. But she found that once some of the hair was removed, he looked much more youthful, his body slim rather than chunky, his skin smooth and hairless.

  She was amazed to discover he had a long, slim neck, surprisingly elegant for a man of his size. His shoulders were just as powerful as she had imagined. And he was so big.

  "You'll have to bend over for me to get the top," she said.

  Tyler inclined his head. She wondered at his trust. He didn't know she wouldn't make a comical mess of his hair. Maybe he didn't care. She wished she had his lack of concern, but it wasn't the same for women. Too much depended on their looks.

  For the one hundredth time, she wondered what he would look like without that beard. Some women liked bearded men, but she never would, not even if he trimmed it quite short. It was brown. A beard had to be black to look decent.

  Oddly enough, she found the shape of his head appealing. In fact, the more of him she uncovered, the more appealing he became. She found herself almost shivering from the intense desire that kept shooting through her body, causing her muscles to quiver uncontrollably, causing her legs to feel as though they might fall out from under her.

  "I'd better stop before I cut off too much," she said stepping back. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. She had no intention of letting Tyler guess any of what she'd been thinking.

  Tyler ran his hand over his head. "It feels about right," he said. "You sure you don't mind my using your corner?"

  "Of course not," she said, trying to sound as normal as possible. "It's your cabin."

  Daisy stood by, tense and stiff, while Tyler dragged the tub to the door and emptied her bath water. Then he filled it with fresh water, gathered some clothes and fresh towels, and disappeared behind the barrier.

  Daisy collapsed into a chair, but her trial wasn't over. Her imagination reached new heights in picturing what must be taking place behind the screen. Tyler was so tall his head and shoulders were visible over the top of the blankets. His shoulders were as smooth and free of hair as she had imagined. They were also as powerfully muscled.

  She shivered when she heard the soft plop of his clothes on the floor, the sloshing of the water as he stepped into the bath and sank down in it. She couldn't imagine how he did it. It was a tight fit for her. It would be impossible for him to fit his long limbs into the tub.

  She tried to imagine how he would situate himself. She imagined his legs out of the tub, long powerful legs that had enabled him to run so swiftly to her rescue. Most of his torso must also be above water level. She remembered the powerful arms and shoulders that had lifted and carried her so easily. She had been able to feel the shape and strength of his muscles even through the heavy shirt and coat he wore.

  If she could only touch him now, feel the muscles, feel the power under her fingers.

  Her hand opened and closed. She couldn't imagine why she was so preoccupied with Tyler's body. No man had ever affected her like this, not even Guy Cochrane. And he was more handsome than Tyler.

  She heard the sloshing of water, and Tyler stood and began to dry himself. He had washed his hair. As he dried it vigorously, it curled into ringlets like the Greeks in her father's books. It gave him an entirely different appearance. It made him look young and virile. She thought of his beautiful brown eyes and broad, clear forehead. There must be something wrong with his face for him to hide it behind a beard. It was a shame.

  She told herself she was no prize. Now she had no hair, she'd be lucky if she didn't become a laughing stock. She was thinking about her dismal future when Tyler pulled back the curtain and stepped out, naked to the waist.

  Daisy stopped breathing.

  Even with the beard, he was the most overwhelming man she'd ever met. The sight of him from the waist up rendered her speechless as well as breathless. Rising from a slim waist and a flat abdomen was the most fantastic chest and pair of shoulders Daisy had ever seen. They were even better than she had imagined. He wore black pants that fitted his body like a glove. After the baggy clothes he had worn before, they were a revelation. Long slim legs, powerful thighs, and a beautifully rounded behind. Daisy felt weak from an effect that wasn't in the least diminished by the sight of his bare feet.

  Not in her wildest dreams had she imagined such a perfect body was concealed in the shapeless clothes Tyler wore.

  "Do you mind if I shave?" Tyler asked.

  "N-no," Daisy managed to murmur.

  Tyler extracted a mirror from inside a small cabinet.

  "You said you didn't have a mirror," Daisy said.

  "I didn't want you to see yourself until you were better."

  "Can I see now?"

  "After I finish. It'll give your hair time to dry."

  Daisy tried to be angry at him, but it was impossible when she couldn't take her eyes off his naked torso. Except for a dusting of small hairs at the center of his chest, he was perfectly sm
ooth. His broad shoulders seemed almost too large for the slim waist. She watched, fascinated, as he gathered his shaving implements. The powerful muscles of his chest bunched and quivered. The muscles in his arms and forearms rippled smoothly under his skin.

  He sat down at the table next to her. She practically had to sit on her hands to stifle the impulse to reach out and touch him. She could. He was that close.

  Her breaths came slowly and with great effort. Gathering all her willpower, Daisy concentrated on his shaving.

  She had watched her father shave so many times she had stopped noticing, but she watched fascinated as Tyler worked lather into the still wet beard. Before long he looked like he'd fallen face first into a bowl of whipped cream. Daisy's resulting smile helped a little to relax some of the tension which seemed about to break her bones.

  It struck her all at once. Tyler wouldn't have lathered his beard if he only intended to trim it. He was going to shave it off!

  She watched his first pass with the razor in stunned surprise. It cleared only a small spot high on his cheek, but an amazing amount of beard fell to the table. Gradually, clearing a small spot at a time, one side of Tyler's face emerged. Much to Daisy's shock, she realized it looked a lot like Zac's face.

  Could Tyler be as handsome as Zac? She wanted to see his mouth. She had to know what his mouth and chin looked like.

  But Tyler turned his head and started to shave the other side of his face. His mouth and chin remained buried under an obscuring growth of brown hair soaked with shaving lather. What an incongruous sight.

  Daisy waited with growing impatience. It seemed Tyler took longer to shave the other side of his face. When he at last raised the razor to his upper lip, she almost held her breath.

  In a matter of a few moments, the most kissable mouth she'd ever seen emerged. A few minutes more, and an adorable chin followed. He was gorgeous. He wasn't as handsome as Zac, but he was gorgeous. Common sense told her it was the contrast from the beard, that once she got used to his face, she wouldn't think it all that special, but common sense wasn't very popular with her right now. She'd spent her life at the beck and call of the wretched creature. And once she reached Albuquerque, she'd have to go back to being sensible. For now she felt a reckless desire to forget common sense, to let her senses run wild.

  "Are you satisfied?" Tyler asked.

  Daisy felt like she was being jerked out of the sensual world of Tyler's body into a senseless world of her cropped hair. "You shaved it off for me?"

  "You said I was hiding something." He ran his hand over his smooth face. "I'm not hiding now."

  "You shouldn't. You are a good-looking man."

  "How can you say that after seeing Zac?"

  "You're handsome, too. In fact, I think I like your looks better."

  "Why?"

  "Your face has character."

  Tyler's smile was wry. "When a man says a woman's face has character, he means she's ugly as sin."

  "When a woman says it, she means she admires the man behind the face."

  She could tell he wanted to believe her. She could also tell he didn't.

  "Sit," he said. "I need to brush your hair before you see yourself." He had no brush, so he used a comb. When he finished, he handed her the mirror.

  She was afraid. She had been able to live with her fears up to now because they were unconfirmed. But if she looked in the mirror, she would no longer be able to tell herself Zac had exaggerated. Daisy took the mirror, closed her eyes, and held it up to her scar.

  "You can hardly see it," Tyler said. "Your hair practically covers it already."

  Daisy opened her eyes and felt some of the tension ease. The scar truly was almost hidden by her hair. Once it was completely healed, it would probably be invisible. She would know it was there, but nobody else would. Her hair was a darker brown than Tyler's. His was closer to chestnut, hers more light mahogany, a nice contrast with her fair skin.

  Gradually she lowered the mirror. The freckles had not disappeared, but they didn't seem so numerous or so dark. Her father had always said his sister's freckles disappeared. Daisy hoped hers were about to follow suit.

  But she could indulge no hope for her hair.

  She held the mirror out from her until she could get a full picture of her head and shoulders. It took a few seconds for the full enormity of the disaster to sink in. Her hair barely touched her shoulders. It billowed about her head in a riot of curls like a bunch of tumbleweed.

  She was ruined! She might as well go to work in a dance hall. It didn't seem important that she looked younger and more innocent or that her face seemed less angular. She ignored the fact that her eyes looked less prominent or her neck ivory smooth. She only saw her hopes for a decent marriage crushed in the floor with her hair.

  The mirror slipped from her loosened grasp and shattered on the floor. The only thing that penetrated the nightmare was the realization Tyler had taken her in his arms and was holding her close.

  "Nobody will want to marry me now," she said.

  "Lots of people will want to marry you."

  "I saw what I looked like."

  "If I were wanting to get married, I'd want you."

  "You're just being kind," Daisy said, not raising her head from his chest. "You know I'm homely. Now I look worse than ever."

  Tyler pulled her arms from around him and held her away from him. He raised her chin when she refused to look up. "You'll find somebody who loves you," he said.

  "Not now." She twisted her chin from his grasp and brushed aside some of the hated hair that got in her face. That would never have happened before he cut it.

  "Daisy, men don't choose a wife because of her hair."

  "You've never been a woman. You don't know how men think."

  "Tell me."

  "As far as men are concerned, women come in types. There are the soiled doves, the women who're so beautiful they're worshiped for their looks no matter whether they're good or bad, the women who are saintly, and all the rest. I come with all the rest."

  "That's absurd."

  "I have no money, I'm not pretty, and I have no family. Now I've lost my hair. I'm worthless."

  "That's ridiculous. You--"

  "I'll probably end up marrying some ignorant man without an idea in his head. He'll expect me to cook his meals, wash his clothes, keep his house, and let him father any number of children on me. He won't listen to what I say, care what I want, or think I have any right to be treated decently. He'll beat me when he's angry and rape me when he's drunk."

  "No, he won't."

  "You don't know anything about it. My father was like that. Except he wasn't violent unless his will was crossed, and even then he didn't strike us. But it never occurred to him we might want something else or be able to provide an answer when he couldn't."

  "You don't understand," she told him, trying to control herself. "Your entire existence doesn't depend on the whim of some man. You can do as you please."

  "Even men have limits."

  "Not like women. It would be impossible for me to live up here like you do. Nobody would think I was an honest woman."

  "I think you are."

  "That's just like you," she said, exasperated. "You never can face reality. People won't take something like that on faith."

  "I defy anybody to insult you."

  He really was adorable. It was a shame he was such an idiot. "There you go again, ignoring reality. You'd be the last person to be able to establish my innocence."

  "I'm the only one who really knows."

  Daisy became aware she was being clasped to Tyler’s naked chest. She tried to pull away, but he wouldn't let her. She couldn't tell whether it was her hair or the hair on his chest, but something tickled her nose. Moving her head only made her more aware her cheek was against his soft, warm skin.

  Swiftly her entire mood changed, and she found it quite easy to forget the tragedy of her hair. In fact, there was no room in her mind for anything but the man
who held her in his embrace. She wanted to run and hide, to pretend he'd ever seen her at her worst. But she clung to him because having seen her at her worst, he had not rejected her.

  All the love she had for him welled up in her heart, and she clung to him more tightly. He was the dearest man she knew. No one else would have cared for her, put up with her demands, endured her complaining and criticism, and still tell her she was pretty.

  It was impossible not to love him. It was also impossible not to want him to kiss her, not to want him to hold her, to comfort her.

  "You've got to learn to have more faith in the goodness and fairness of human nature," Tyler told her. "Most people are willing to believe the best if you only give the chance."

  Daisy didn't think they would, but Tyler did, and for that she would be forever grateful. Holding on to him seemed to surround her with his aura of trust. As long as he held her, she really was the woman he thought her to be.

  Daisy held on tighter. It would soon be time to let go, but not now, not yet. Maybe if she stayed here long enough, she could come to believe in herself the way Tyler did.

  Tyler tipped her head up and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. That definitely helped. Guy had kissed her once, but his kiss made her feel like his sister.

  There was nothing brotherly about Tyler's attitude toward her, or about his kisses. He was making it plain he found Daisy quite desirable.

  Daisy was wholly lacking experience in love, but she could tell when a man was aroused. The proof of Tyler's desire burned against her abdomen. Yet he didn't desire her merely for physical release. He said he found her pretty. He said he thought she was an admirable woman capable of doing just about anything she set her mind to. He said she was a woman whose company he enjoyed, whose presence was exciting.

  Daisy's resistance collapsed. There'd be nothing wrong with being held in his arms. No one had ever done that. She had come to doubt anyone ever would. Now that Tyler had, she couldn't summon the will power to tell him to stop.