Her undergarments were the ones he’d purchased in the general store in Benning, and he smiled into her eyes as he recalled the day they’d fussed over his buying new clothing for her. Now they fell heedlessly to the floor as he knelt at her feet to slide stockings and garters from her slender legs. Her hand rested on his shoulder for balance as she lifted her feet for the removal of the last stitch of clothing she’d donned on the train this morning.
And then he touched her with the sort of reverence he’d only felt heretofore within the walls of the church they’d attended during the years of their time together. As if he gazed upon a miracle, he looked carefully at her body, seeking the changes wrought during the past months.
He touched her breasts, noting the new fullness, the darkening of the crests, which tightened even as he watched his fingertips press against the firm flesh. She’d lost the narrowness of waist he remembered, her body expanding to accommodate the babe she carried, and he was stricken by a wave of yearning as he viewed the voluptuous curves that pronounced her a woman in the process of bearing a child.
His palms ached to explore her rounding figure, the affirmation of her pregnancy, and he gently touched her belly, as if greeting the child she offered into his keeping.
“When?” he asked.
“The first time you loved me in the farmhouse,” she told him. “I knew then.”
“You didn’t say,” he murmured, noting the intake of breath she could not conceal as his hands brushed against the golden curls at the apex of her thighs.
“It would have sounded foolish to speak of it, when there was no way to be certain,” she said quietly. “I almost told you when you left, but I knew you’d make me go with you if I did, and I wasn’t ready to leave. I wanted you to have time to settle things with your mother first, and get caught up on business.”
“I’d have hauled you off with me, no matter how hard you protested,” he said sternly. “My mother is not my top priority, Faith. Far from it.”
“How does she feel about all this?” she asked, waving her hand around the room. “Is she angry that you moved from the family home?”
“She got over it,” he said shortly. “I fear we had some noisy discussions after we left Benning. I settled things with her before we arrived back in Boston.”
“How angry with me is she?” Faith’s words were hesitant and Max felt a pang of sorrow that she should be fearful of his mother’s scorn.
“She knows that she will not have a place in my life if she doesn’t treat you as she should. In fact, she admitted she had more respect for you, once she was able to get a clear picture of just what you accomplished after you left me.”
Faith looked deeply into his eyes and her smile was radiant. “I want to get along with your mother, but you’re the only person I have to please, Max.” She looked down to where his hands lingered, and whispered, “That’s what I’d like to do right now.”
He felt his heart jolt within his breast as he heard her words of invitation. Rising, he swept her from her feet and placed her in the center of the wide bed, then crossed to the window to lower the sash, lest she become chilled from the breeze. With deft movements he stripped off his own clothing at a rapid pace, then approached her.
“I’m more than willing to oblige you, sweetheart,” he said gruffly, the evidence of his desire apparent.
She held out her arms in open invitation, and he covered her softness with the full length of his body. Her legs opened, allowing him access there where he’d dreamed of being during the past three months, and his sigh was deep as he settled against her.
“I’m heavy,” he murmured, his mouth at her breast, his lips drawing the swollen crest into his possession.
“No,” she said, denying his fear. “I want you right where you are. I’ve craved having your weight on me, the feel of your long legs against mine, your hands on my breasts and your mouth against my skin.”
She was eager for his loving, her skin warmed by the flush of desire, yet he knew a moment’s hesitation as he lifted his head to look into her eyes. “Is it all right? Safe for me to love you?” he asked.
“Lin said it would be fine until I’m too big for you to get close enough to—” She halted abruptly, a pink flush brightening her cheeks. “I shouldn’t have told you that,” she said. “You’ll think I discussed this with her.”
“I suspect you needed someone to talk with,” he said. “And who better than a woman besotted with her own husband? Nicholas told me once that he’s a lucky man. I understood exactly what he meant by that statement.”
Max bent to touch the tip of her breast with his tongue, then suckled it, glorying in the responsive rise of her hips against him. He was trembling as his hands slid beneath her, lifting her to his manhood. “Take me,” he whispered, begging her indulgence as he pressed for admission into that secret haven where he’d found the greatest joy of his life. “I don’t think I can wait,” he said gravely, easing into the damp folds that enveloped him. And then he held himself still, waiting until her flesh accommodated his pulsing arousal.
“I need you, Faith…like a thirsty man needs water,” he growled fiercely, and indeed, he was filled with a desire for her that superceded any yearning he’d ever known. She drew him close, her arms strong as she accepted him into her depths, bending her knees to enclose him, opening to the pressure of his manhood and, on an indrawn breath, granted him the gift of her body.
“Max.” It was a whisper, a sound of delight, a trembling sigh that told of longing and desire held in abeyance, and he was swept up in arms that enclosed him, warmth that invited him to sate himself in the depths of her body.
Caught up in the rhythm he could not control, he felt the spill of his seed, there at the mouth of her womb, where already his son or daughter formed just beyond the fragile barrier he touched. “Did I hurt you? The baby?” he asked quickly, fearful of doing damage with the impetuous force of their mating.
“No, we’re both fine,” she whispered, her hands cradling his head, her fingers lost in the fine dark hair.
“I’m sorry,” he said, lifting up to peer into her face. “I haven’t been that thoughtless since I was eighteen years old.”
“Oh? You didn’t come to me a virgin?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with hidden laughter as her palms cradled his face.
“I was twenty-eight years old when I married you, sweetheart. I hate to speak of it, but I’d taken several women out and around the town, and found none of them were what I was looking for in a bride. When I saw you, hiding in a corner at your uncle’s house that day at Christmastime, I knew before I spoke to you that you were the woman I’d been waiting for.”
“You did?” she asked, her eyes wide with discovery. “I never felt…exactly…needed,” she told him, as if she searched for a word to describe the memory of those early years. “I knew you liked the way I looked and you enjoyed my bed, but other than that, I felt like a vase on the mantel that you glanced at once in a while and admired from your exalted position as head of the house.”
“I didn’t know how to tell you, or show you, how I felt about you, Faith. I don’t suppose I realized the depths of my feelings until you were gone. In fact, it wasn’t until I arrived in Texas that I discovered that love was the driving force behind my need for you.” He bent and kissed her with tenderness, hoping to express with his body what he’d failed to reveal in words during that long-ago time.
Her mouth opened to his, an invitation to possess. He accepted her silent plea with a groan, turning to his side and drawing her with him, the better to caress her at his leisure, the easier to bring her the fulfillment he’d denied her with his swift taking.
It was dark outside the windows, and moonlight shed a path across the pale carpet when they awoke, and Faith felt a pang of embarrassment as she thought of the housekeeper and the supper she had likely kept warm for their benefit.
“Max?” she whispered, and felt the brush of his fingers against her breast. She was sp
ooned against him, and he sighed, his breath ruffling her hair.
“I suppose you’re hungry,” he muttered, his voice husky with the unaccustomed nap they’d enjoyed.
“Now that you mention it,” she said, turning in his embrace to face him, “do you suppose there’s something in the kitchen we can eat?”
“I suspect the warming oven has two plates filled with food, and if it’s cold, we’ll fix something ourselves,” he told her. “There’s something we need to discuss. We’ll put together a meal and then talk.”
“My aunt and uncle are coming?” Faith heard the shock in her voice, and felt a twinge of resentment that Max had arranged for this meeting to take place without her knowledge. They sat across the table from each other, feasting on overcooked chicken and potatoes liberally covered with gravy that had turned thick in the oven.
“I’ve been in touch with them since I came back East,” he told her. “I sent for your brother, too.” He gnawed at the chicken leg he held as if it resembled ambrosia instead of a leftover that had been more palatable hours ago.
“Tim?” She was stunned. “I haven’t seen him in more than six years, since our wedding, in fact.”
“And why was that?” Max asked quietly. “Have you any idea how badly he wanted to come here, to see his sister?”
“No, I don’t suppose I do. After our wedding, my aunt Grace and uncle Clive seemed to vanish from my life. They were glad to be rid of me, I think. It was purely duty that compelled them to take Tim and me into their home when my parents died. I was a strange little duck, pretty enough, but terribly shy, and Tim was determined to get into hot water on a regular basis.”
“He went to New York to university,” Max told her. “And then began work in the stock market there. He’s quite successful, I understand. I located him and invited him here for a weekend, the actual time to be at my discretion. And then I began to think about your aunt and uncle and the house you lived in during your younger years, and I decided that they had had an influence on you that had harmed you enormously.”
“They were decent to me, even though I don’t think they were overjoyed to take on two children.” Her words were quietly defensive, as if she willed herself to forget the barren, lonely days and nights of her high school years. The parents she’d loved so deeply had gone from her life, replaced by a pair of reluctant, impersonal guardians.
“Decent? Were they?” Max asked doubtfully. “As I recall, they seemed relieved to be rid of you, and the more I thought about our problems during the long nights I spent without you, the more I wondered how many of your small insecurities could be laid at their feet.” He leaned across the table and touched her cheek with his index finger. “You were so certain that you had nothing to offer me, and I wearied of trying to bolster your confidence. More’s the pity.”
She buttered a slice of bread and nibbled on the crust. “I was a mess,” she admitted, thinking of her unhappiness during those long-ago days. “But I don’t see that having my family here to visit will be of benefit to either of us now.”
“I want them to see you as you are in this house, Faith. A vital, glowing woman with confidence in herself. They might enjoy your company, and at least I’ll have the satisfaction of making them see what you’ve become—in spite of their neglect. I contacted them and suggested a visit, at a date to be decided upon. I’ll send them a note and offer an invitation for next weekend. Will that suit you?”
She nodded, aware of Max’s maneuvering for her benefit. And her eyes filled once more with gratitude as she recognized the wisdom of his perception of her early girlhood trials and tribulations. And then he caught her attention, grasping her hand.
“As to your brother, he’s a bit embarrassed that he lost touch with you, and he’s champing at the bit to renew old ties with his sister.” Max leaned back and grinned indolently. “I’ve already told him I may be able to offer him a better position than the one he’s currently holding in New York. That sort of put the icing on the cake, so to speak, so far as he’s concerned.”
“You mean, have him move back to Boston?” Her words were eager, and Max’s eyes lit with pleasure as he realized her delight in his manipulations on her behalf.
“If it pleases him and suits you.” His eyes begged for her approval. “My aim in life is to fill your days and nights with joy, Faith. If that involves mending ties with your brother, and making you realize that your unhappiness was not self-induced during our years of marriage, I’ll be content. I want you to recognize that others lent a hand in the crumbling of the image you saw in the mirror each day.”
“You’ve been a busy man,” she managed to whisper, aware that once more tears were sliding down her cheeks. “I’m leaking all the time these days,” she said, smiling through a misty haze. “Lin says it’s a major symptom of being in the family way. My feelings are close to the surface and I seem to have the need to shed tears on a regular basis.”
She wiped her mouth with the napkin and sighed, replete with the food they’d shared. It had been a strange meal, this first supper in their new home. Probably not the fanciest of surroundings, she thought, looking around the kitchen. But it had been wonderful, comforting and filled with a communication between them that had brought peace to her heart.
Max leaned over the table, took the napkin from her and, with a clean corner, brushed away the dampness from her cheek. His smile was gentle as he dropped a kiss on her brow. “So long as these waterworks aren’t caused by something I’ve done to upset you, I’ll happily contribute our supply of dinner napkins to the cause,” he murmured.
“And now,” he suggested, rising and lifting her from her chair to hold her close to his side, “do you think we could go back to bed?”
“How will you get to work in the morning?” she murmured, her head pressed against his shoulder as they climbed the stairs, side by side.
“I’ll have James drive me in, and then catch a cab home. That way you’ll have the carriage if you want to go out.”
They walked to the back of the house and entered their room, pausing on the threshold to view the bed. It was stripped of the quilt, the top sheet was tangled in a heap on the carpet and the pillows were tossed across the mattress in abandon.
“I’ll have to sort it out before we can occupy it for the night,” Faith said. She pulled the belt of her dressing gown tightly around her waist and picked up the sheet from the carpet, shaking the wrinkles from it, then spread it across the bed.
“No sense in being too fussy,” Max told her. “I have a notion it won’t look much better by the time we go to sleep.”
She lifted her chin and sent him a sharp look. “I suppose you think you need to catch up on lost time.”
He smiled, and she was lost in the dark beauty of his heavy-lidded gaze and wavy rumpled hair. The man was incorrigible and she was truly smitten with him. Tomorrow she would arrange for the delivery of her mare, and check out the barn with a foaling area in mind. Her thoughts swirled as she plumped the pillows and then pulled back the sheet in preparation to crawling beneath the fine linen fabric.
“Take off the robe,” Max said quietly. “You don’t need it, sweet.”
“I don’t?” She shrugged, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “How will I ever manage to stay warm?”
“Give me five minutes,” he bargained, “and I’ll show you.” His own dressing gown hit the floor and he slid between the layers of bedding, reaching for her with a passion she recognized and welcomed. “Make that two minutes,” he murmured, his mouth warm, his hands firm against her lush curves.
“No rush,” she said with a satisfied smile. “I can afford to be patient. I’m planning on keeping you busy for the rest of our lives.”
Epilogue
Spring arrived with a flourish in Boston. Flowering fruit trees lined the white board fences along the winding drive, and in the pasture a golden mare cropped placidly at the lush grass. Her sides were bulging with the new life she carried and she moved slo
wly, as if conserving her strength for the coming birth of her foal.
The woman who watched from a vantage point just to the west of the house made a soft sound with her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and the mare lifted her head, her ears flicking forward. With ambling steps she neared the fence and accepted the bit of carrot the woman held out to her, a dainty procedure that occurred daily right after breakfast in the big house was completed.
“How does she look?” Max asked, striding through the grass to enclose Faith with his arms, his hands settling on the curve of her belly.
“About as graceful as I do,” Faith retorted, laughing to soften the truth of her words. “I remember wondering how Lin was ever going to get rid of the load she carried before Jonathan was born. Now I’m feeling doubtful about my own ability.”
“The doctor says you’ll do well,” Max reminded her, his hands cupping the weight of their child, easing her heavy burden. He lowered his head to brush his lips against her hair, then turned her around with gentle strength, loving the feel of his child between them. As the babe protested the close quarters inflicted on him by his father, he concentrated on the small movements of what Faith had promised him would be a son, smiling as a fist or knee poked at him.
“Surely you can’t get much larger,” he said, looking down at the bulk of his child. “I’ll begin to worry if you don’t take to your bed soon.”
“It’s been just a week short of nine months,” she reminded him. “I’m going to finish hemming diapers today, and then I’ll be ready.”
“You could have bought them ready made from Mrs. Belmont’s sister. She does it for a living,” he said, amused at Faith’s attempts to conserve his enormous resources.
“She already made most of the baby’s gowns and blankets,” Faith said. “I may sit on the porch when the sun touches it in the afternoon. It’s getting warmer by the day.”
“Be careful not to take a chill,” he told her, and then turned her away from the horse, which had dropped her head to graze. They walked to the house, where Max kissed Faith long and lovingly, as James Belmont looked the other way. “I’ll be home early,” Max whispered. “Will you be all right?”
Texas Gold (Mills & Boon Historical) Page 26
