His Brother's Wife

by Lily Graison

  A peek over Rafe’s shoulder told her they were in his room, in his bed. The curtained window drew her attention and like earlier in the day, she could see nothing past the glass panes.

  She shifted, trying to pull away from him a bit but stilled when his hold on her tightened. He lowered his head, nuzzled his face against the top of her head, while his hand slid down over her hip, coming to rest against her bare bottom.

  Again her brain only latched on to the obvious. They were in bed together. Naked. And why couldn’t she remember how she got here?

  Her heart started racing while her mind tried to rationalize why.

  It came back to her in pieces. She remembered getting lost in the snow storm, of spending long, fearful moments calling Rafe’s name as his voice echoed in the distance.

  He must have found her.

  And stripped her naked, then crawled into bed with her.

  She smiled. She’d been waiting weeks to end up here to no avail and now here she laid, snuggled against him skin to skin while a blizzard blew past the house.

  Her elation screeched to a stop when Jesse’s image flashed in her mind’s eye. Her heart skipped a beat soon after. Where was he? Had he made it home or was he still out there?

  She lifted her head, trying to see into the kitchen and woke Rafe in the process. “Where’s Jesse?”

  He ignored her question and raised his hand, smoothing her hair away from her face. “How do you feel? Are you numb anywhere? Still cold?”

  She blinked at him and shook her head. How could he act so calm? “I’m fine,” she said. “Where’s Jesse?”

  Relief washed over his face. “Still in town, I hope.”

  “What do you mean, you hope? He wouldn’t have tried to come home in this, would he?”

  “I don’t think so but I don’t know that he wasn’t already on his way home when it started snowing.”

  “Oh, Lord.”

  “He’ll be fine, Grace. He’s a smart kid. He knows how to survive.”

  Grace hoped he was right. She sat up and glanced toward the window, worry over Jesse’s well being gnawing at her conscience. “Someone in town will take care of him, right? Make sure he’s fed and that he’s warm?”

  She turned her head to him when he didn’t answer. He was staring at her, a hungry look in his eyes.

  A glance down and Grace gasped. The entire front half of her body was exposed and she grabbed the blankets, jerking them back up to cover herself.

  Rafe’s voice pitched low when he said, “He’ll be fine, Grace. Stop worrying.”

  She nodded her head after realizing he was right. Jesse was a smart kid. Besides, the adults in town wouldn’t have let him endanger his life by trying to come home.

  Rafe was still staring at her, the heat in his eyes increasing with every passing second. Grace’s skin prickled with goose bumps and the fact she was in Rafe’s bed, naked, didn’t escape her.

  She looked over at him. The blankets lay dangerously low on his hips from where she’d pulled them to cover her breasts. A light dusting of dark hair covered his chest and belly and drew her gaze to the edge of the blankets. Her face heated, knowing he was naked and she averted her eyes, swallowing the lump forming in her throat, while trying to remember to breathe. “We’re naked,” she said, stupidly.

  A tiny smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “I know.”

  The heat in his gaze increased, the longing she saw there taking her breath away. When he said, “Let me see you, Grace,” something in the tone of his voice sent butterflies in her stomach into a frenzy. Her heart started racing and every nerve in her body danced to life.

  He sat up, propped his weight on one hand and lifted the other, pulling the pins from her hair. He dropped each one to the blankets, her blonde locks falling around her shoulders while he threaded his fingers through the strands.

  Grace sat motionless as he untangled her hair, listening to her blood rush past her ears. She’d imagined this scenario countless times in her head but never thought to actually live it. The reality was much more frightening than the dream.

  She’d never been with a man. Twenty-eight year old spinster she was, she’d never found a man worth giving her body to.

  Until now.

  With every ounce of courage she had, Grace let the blankets drop to her lap.

  Rafe did nothing for long minutes but stare at her. He’d seen her breasts before, touched and kissed them, but those intimate moments were nothing like now. It was as if he were memorizing the way she looked, cataloging every detail for a reason she couldn’t fathom.

  He lifted his hand again, moved a tendril of her hair away from her right breast and ran a finger over her nipple. Grace closed her eyes the second he touched her.

  That one small gesture turned into a hundred more. The heat of his hand seared her flesh. Branding her skin with each gentle touch of his fingers. Rafe leaned toward her and kissed her neck soon after, the soft, gentle slide of his lips against her skin causing those goose bumps to increase. He peppered kisses along her jaw, before reaching her lips, his tongue invading her mouth and stealing what sense she had left.

  He wrapped her in his arms, her breasts squeezed tight against his chest, and she’d never felt anything so wonderful. He was warm, well muscled and just sitting on the bed, naked and in his arms was the closest to lovemaking she’d ever been. If it got better than this, she knew she’d die from the pleasure of it.

  The blankets were pushed away, Rafe’s hold on her tightening before he lifted her, pulling her to him to straddle his lap. The moment she felt him there, warm, hard, and thick between her legs, Grace moaned and shifted her hips, rubbing herself against him until she dragged a strangled gasp from his throat.

  His hands were everywhere, digging into the flesh on her bottom, his lips and tongue skating across her chin, neck and throat before lowering to her chest. She was panting for breath by the time he sucked her left nipple into his mouth.

  Grace leaned back, giving him full access to her breasts and prayed the night never ended. She wound her fingers into his hair, held him to her and watched him through hooded eyes.

  “I want you, Grace.” His voice was soft, muffled, and so full of need she almost felt his pain.

  She arched her back, held onto him as he suckled her and said, “You have me.”

  He flipped her to her back the instant the words were out of her mouth, his lips smashing against her own, his tongue teasing and dipping into her mouth as his body fitted tightly to her.

  Grace spread her knees, giving him more room, and lifted her hips when the pressure between her legs grew more intense. He rubbed himself against her and she whimpered when the sensation’s started to overwhelm her. She needed…. something.

  “Rafe, please. I…”

  The plea turned into a gasp as he entered her in a single hard push, a sharp pain tearing through her body while her world collapsed into the tiny space they occupied. Nothing else existed beyond that small sphere.

  Once he was inside her, he stilled for long minutes, just content to kiss her, touch her, and the burning sensation eased then vanished, replaced by a need she couldn’t explain.

  She lifted her hips and he looked down at her, then started to move. The gentle thrust drew a small moan from her throat and Grace knew she’d been born to love this man. She’d spent her life looking for an adventure, for something to fill the void she’d always felt, and looking up at Rafe’s face while his body moved over her, she knew this is what she’d been seeking, not some grand adventure, but him, a mate created just for her.

  She raised her hands, wrapped her arms around his back and moved her hips when the pressure between her legs began to build again. She wasn’t sure what to do but moving made the whole act more pleasurable. From the sounds Rafe made, he liked it too.

  Having expectations of what this act entailed paled in comparison to what was really involved. Grace hadn’t imagined the act of love making to be so intense. It wasn’t onl
y the physical pleasure of it that stunned her. It was the emotional closeness she couldn’t quite comprehend. The look on Rafe’s face as he stared down at her, the feel of his hands caressing her flesh, his lips skimming her face, it was all a bit overwhelming.

  Those feelings seemed to draw and collect inside her stomach, a small knot forming until she was squirming, trying to get closer. She whispered Rafe’s name, held him tighter against her and cried out when she thought her body would burst if she had to endure another second of the torment.

  Rafe’s hold on her tightened as he buried his face against her neck. He mumbled something to her, the pace of his thrusts increasing and Grace had only seconds to realize something was happening to her body before she felt it. The heat and dizzying euphoria flooded her veins, caused her skin to tingle and waves of pleasure rode her limbs until she was shaking from the effects, a raw cry spilling from her throat as Rafe’s hips moved harder, faster, that urgent need she’d felt obviously taking hold of him as well.

  When it was over, her body tingling and lax, Grace lay under Rafe and felt as if she were floating. She blinked and swallowed to moisten her throat. “Is it always like that?”

  Rafe propped his weight on his elbows and kissed her softly on the lips. “No. Sometimes it’s better.”

  A jolt went through Grace’s body at his words. How could it possibly be better? She laughed and buried her face against his throat. “I don’t believe a word of that, Rafe Samuels. There’s no way it could possibly be better.”

  Something in his eyes said he was pleased with her reaction. He pulled from her body with a hiss and slid to the bed beside of her, wrapping her back into his arms. “Give me time to recover and I’ll prove it to you.”

  Grace’s heart skipped a beat. “How long will that take?”

  Rafe laughing at her was his only answer.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  For the second time in as many days, Grace woke up naked in Rafe’s bed. This time, she was alone.

  She stretched and regretted it a moment later. Her body hurt in places she hadn’t realized could hurt but she smiled when she remembered why.

  Rafe had showed her such sweet pleasure, she’d never wanted it to end. They fell asleep exhausted, their skin slick, bodies so alive, Grace knew why people sought out companionship on a daily basis.

  It was too wonderful not to experience every day.

  She sat up, pulling the blankets to her chest and glanced over the side of the bed. Her clothes weren’t there.

  A look around the room proved pointless. For once, the floor was bare of clothing. Sitting up, she pulled the top blanket from the bed and wrapped it around her body as she stood. Making sure she was covered, she ventured to the door and opened it. A single lamp burned in the kitchen and to her surprise, Rafe stood by the stove.

  She smiled and walked into the room. “What did you do with my clothes?”

  When he turned to face her, Grace’s face burned hot. He was dressed in trousers and a blue chambray shirt but he hadn’t bothered buttoning it. Gorgeous didn’t even begin to describe him. Her heart started racing just looking at him.

  Seeing him naked in bed was different than seeing him in the kitchen half dressed. The light alone made it different. She knew she was blushing by the way he smiled at her.

  He crossed the room, took her face in both hands, and gave her one of those soul-stealing kisses she loved so much. When he let her go, she could do nothing but stare at him.

  “Your dress was wet and muddy, so I threw it in with the other dirty things.” He threaded his fingers through her hair, straightening the strands. “Are you hungry? I’m making breakfast.”

  Looking toward the table, Grace saw their plates, glasses filled with fresh milk, and eggs fried with onions and bacon. Nothing more than that, but it looked like a feast to her. In the month she’d been here, it was the first time anyone bothered to cook for her.

  She smiled. “I’m starved.”

  He didn’t give her time to suggest dressing, just swooped her up in his arms and crossed the room, pulled her chair out with one foot and deposited her in it before taking his own seat. Grace sat there, wondering how she was supposed to eat and hold the blanket in place.

  A glance at Rafe’s face and she could tell he was wondering the same thing. The amusement shining in his eyes said it all. That small wanton part of herself smiled back as she dropped the blanket, Rafe’s eyes widening when she did, before she tucked the material under her arms, covering her body again.

  Her shoulders were bare but at least her breasts weren’t exposed. Not that it really mattered. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen them, touched them, but eating while ones breasts were in the open just seemed odd.

  Rafe laughed but never said a word. They ate in silence, the only sound in the room coming from the ticking of the clock and the scrape of silverware on plates.

  The air felt different this morning. The usual tension that hovered in the house, gone. Grace wasn’t sure what caused it. Was it because Jesse wasn’t there? Or did it have everything to do with the newfound relationship she shared with Rafe?

  Whatever it was, Grace liked the feeling. It was freeing and gave her hope for a future here. Knowing she’d not have to leave eased her mind to the point of rapture. She hadn’t been looking forward to the move anyway. Now, with Rafe finally making love to her, she was sure a marriage proposal from him was only days away.

  When they’d finished eating, Rafe took everything to the sink. “Go get dressed. I can wash these up.”

  Grace did as he said, leaving him in the kitchen alone. When she entered her room, she leaned back against the door, a dreamy sigh escaping her throat. Who was this man she was seeing? And what happened to the other Rafe? The one who was prickly and pig-headed?

  She hoped to never find out the answers.

  Dropping the blanket, Grace washed, regretting not bringing up a pitcher of warm water for her bath, then dressed in one of the simple calico dresses she’d purchased. After brushing her hair and braiding it, she left it to dangle down her back.

  As she started across the room, she saw Rafe out her bedroom window, walking across the yard toward the barn, the end of a rope in one hand. It was still snowing but the tiny flakes fell softly today. The hectic, wind-blown downpour from the blizzard the day before was gone.

  She watched him tie the end of the rope to the post by the water trough, then head inside the barn. He had chores to do, after all. Just because the weather was foul didn’t mean their daily routine stopped and with Jesse gone, Rafe would again be left doing it all.

  Grace pursed her lips. Her knowledge of ranch work was minimal but she was nothing if not curious. Besides, she’d always been a fast learner. Anything Jesse was expected to do, she could do, too. She was sure of it.

  What was he doing?

  Rafe stabbed at the bale of straw, his thoughts a violent clamor inside his head. Every time he rationalized his feelings for Grace, the doubt he’d lived with for so many years would rear its head and curse him for a fool.

  He knew before he kissed her that making love to her was the wrong thing to do but damn his soul, he couldn’t resist. He’d been dreaming of having her since first laying eyes on her. Having her in his bed, naked, and looking so beautiful…

  What was he supposed to do? Tell her to leave? Leave himself?

  He stopped tossing the straw and laid his forehead to the top of the pitchfork, blowing out a frustrated breath. “You are such an idiot.”

  Images of her flashed in his mind’s eye. Images of the way her skin looked slicked with small beads of perspiration as he loved her. Visions of her golden hair spilling over her breasts, over his pillow, the way she clung to him as he filled her, pressing himself inside of her as far as her body would allow.

  The way her eyes shined up at him as if there wasn’t another person in her world.

  He’d tried telling himself that Grace was different but that little voice in the back of h
is mind refused to believe it. All women were the same. They wanted things he’d never be able to give them and just like the rest, Grace would eventually figure that out.

  He blew out a frustrated breath. He should have never touched her. She didn’t belong here and she’d prove it to him soon enough.

  And she’d leave him.

  Jabbing the straw again, he dragged out another fork full and tossed it over the rail to his horse, taking his time about doing it.

  The sound of the barn door opening startled him and he whirled on his heel, shocked to see Grace struggling with the door. She closed it and turned, smiling when she saw him.

  “Need some help?”

  Rafe stared. It’s all he could do. She was dressed in trousers and boots. Not her dainty lace-up ones but men’s work boots. Shit-kickers, as his pa used to call them. They looked too big for her feet but she stood there as if they were made just for her.

  She wore his pa’s old coat, the material swallowing her tiny frame. She’d rolled the sleeves up and tied a bit of material around her waist. Jesse’s old hat was on her head and as ridiculous as she looked, he’d never seen a more becoming sight.

  He grinned and propped the pitchfork against the rail. “I see you’ve raided the spare room.”

  She grinned. “I didn’t think a dress, even a plain calico, was suitable for barn work.”

  “It’s not.”

  Grace looked into the first stall, her nose scrunching as she got a whiff of the stench from old straw and manure and said, “I came to help. What can I do?”

  She came to help? Who was this woman? Rafe chuckled and scratched his chin. “Depends. What do you know how to do?”

  “Nothing really.” She glanced in his direction, then walked to the next stall, looking over the rail at Buttercup, their only milk cow. “I’ve not had training to work on a ranch but I’m a quick study. Just show me what to do and I’ll get the hang of it.”

  She reached in, rubbing Buttercup’s nose and Rafe was amazed. She wanted to muck out stalls with him? She couldn’t be serious.