Heartstrings

by Rebecca Paisley

  “Theodosia,” he began, caressing her breasts and the smooth skin of her belly, “the pleasure has only just started.”

  She raised her hand and pressed her fingers into the hard muscle beneath his nipple. Fascinated by his strength, she moved her hand upward, over his massive shoulder, through his long raven hair, and down his bulging arm.

  Her touch nearly drove him insane. A low groan of intense need rumbled in his throat as he wrestled for whatever last drop of control he could find within the storm of desire that raged through him.

  At the sound of his barely leashed passion, Theodosia dropped her hand from his arm. “You will not impregnate me.” She searched his face for evidence that he would not. “Will you?”

  “No.” The word left his lips on a hot, tight breath. “You’re a virgin now, and I promise you still will be when I’m through. There are other ways.”

  His declaration confused and excited her at once. “What are they?”

  His gaze never leaving hers, he untied the drawstring of her lacy drawers and drew them slowly down her smooth white legs.

  A hint of anxiety leaped through her veins as he slid the last of her garments off her body. She lay before him completely naked—and had never felt so vulnerable or uncertain in her life.

  Roman watched her worry come into her eyes and alleviated it with a deep and leisurely kiss that soon had her writhing beneath him once more. Only then did he raise his head and behold the unveiled splendor of her body.

  He couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe. He could only stare.

  Never had he seen such perfection.

  Long moments passed before he could talk to her. “Beautiful,” he whispered. “God, you are so beautiful, Theodosia.”

  She could not miss the sincerity in his eyes. It shone forth with all the intensity of the star he’d once pointed out to her. Profoundly moved, she felt her own eyes fill with tears.

  The moment Roman saw them, he stiffened, old and uncomfortable memories slithering through him.

  But the disagreeable recollections vanished instantly when Theodosia turned into him, pressing her body against his in a plea for the pleasure he’d promised her.

  He laid his hand on her hip and gently rolled her to her back. Slowly, ever-ready to soothe her should apprehension return to her, he moved his hand to her inner thigh and caressed the velvety flesh he found there. While his fingers slid across her skin, his thumb swept into the silken folds of her femininity.

  Theodosia nearly came off the bed. Short but steady waves of pleasure wafting through her, she arched her hips toward the promise of pleasure.

  Watching the play of growing rapture on her face, Roman slipped two fingers into her. Instantly, his own need began to pound through him, causing him to grit his teeth.

  God, she was tight. And hot. And wet.

  And he was about to burst out of his breeches. “This,” he rasped, “is a hint of what lovemaking is all about.”

  Surprise jolted her when his fingers began a pumping motion and his thumb circled softly upon her. “Roman.” She moaned his name, then reached for him.

  The moment his broad chest met her breasts and his hair fell over her throat and stomach, the first spark of bliss glimmered deeply inside her. She gasped as the unfamiliar feelings grew, but the tender look in Roman’s eyes assured her that he knew what she felt and was in total control of everything happening to her. Her gaze enfolded within his, she gave herself up to him and lifted her hips into his hand, the source of the incredible feelings coming to life inside her.

  Her surrender deepened her pleasure. Something wonderful whirled within the depths of her womanhood. Tensing with anticipation as the delicious feelings spread slowly through every part of her, she realized the sensations would peak and that it was Roman who guided her toward the sensual crest.

  And then she was there. The warm and gentle pleasure quickly intensified. Like a flower opening to the splendor of the sun, ecstasy too beautiful to fathom blossomed inside her. She savored the feelings in complete awe, her body trembling with wonder.

  She lay motionless for a long while, wrapped in Roman’s attention as the rapture he so skillfully mastered mellowed into a warm, sweet pulse that left her so satiated, she could think of nothing in the world she still wanted.

  A smile touched her lips when she saw Roman watching her, his eyes following every emotion and feeling that passed over her features. He looked as pleased as she felt, and his satisfaction somehow increased her fulfillment.

  “Roman,” she whispered. Overcome with emotion, she smoothed her hands over the hard muscles in his back and began to kiss his shoulder, chest, and throat.

  Her sweet and innocent caresses made him want to hold her forever and never let her go. Instead, he withdrew his hand from her, and while he pressed his lips to her moist forehead, he dwelled on the fact that he’d pleasured her. Shown her a taste of sensual joy. He’d been the first man to do so.

  And that meant more to him than he cared to ponder.

  He sat up, and sliding his hands beneath her, he lifted her into his lap and held her close to his chest. Unappeased desire continued to torment him, but he ignored it and concentrated on the beautiful woman in his arms.

  “Tell me you’re not sorry, Theodosia,” he demanded quietly.

  The glint of potential regret she noted in his eyes tugged tenderness forth from her heart. She said nothing, but only stared at him, memorizing every line, curve, and shadow on his face.

  He’d come to mean a lot to her, had become very special to her. She could not understand how it was possible for her to feel such fondness for a man like

  Roman Montana, but she could not deny her own affection for him.

  And she could not imagine how she would feel when the day came that they would part. “Theodosia?”

  Gently, she touched the cleft in his chin, then slipped her fingers through the raven silk of his hair. “Tell me when I gave you permission to address me by my first name.”

  He grinned down at her. “Calling you Miss Worth while practicing the sweet art of passion just didn’t seem to occur to me. What about you? You called me by my first name, too.”

  “Did you know,” she murmured, her hand still lost within his thick hair, contentment still whispering through her, “that the name Roman is from the Latin word Romanus? It means ‘a person from Rome.’”

  “Don’t tell me—the name Theodosia is from the Latin word Theoknowsia, which means ‘a person who knows everything.’”

  She lowered her hand to his chest and drew lazy circles around his dark nipple. “Theodosia is Greek, meaning ‘divine gift.’ When my sister Lillian was sixteen years old, my parents despaired of ever having more children. When I was born, they thought of me as a present from heaven. Thus, their choice for my name.”

  Her explanation caused him to realize how little she’d told him about her past. She’d certainly delved into his past enough times, but she didn’t offer to share her own memories with him. He decided it might be fun to coerce her into talking about them.

  But not now. Later, after he’d made sure she wasn’t sorry about what they’d done. “I asked you a question, and you haven’t answered it.”

  She laid her head on his shoulder, marveling over the fact that she was completely naked and felt no shame or timidity. “No, Roman, I am not sorry. The pleasure satisfied my physical need as well as my curiosity, which has continued to build ever since you first mentioned the importance of sexual fulfillment. Once again, you have taught me something that I did not know, and for that I am truly grateful.”

  As it had in the past, her gratitude pulled at something in his chest that was beginning to feel a lot like his heart. “Why did you cry, Theodosia?” he asked, absently running his hand through the warm moist hollow between her breasts.

  She recalled her eyes filling with tears. He’d told her she was beautiful. She’d never imagined how much the words would mean to her. Indeed, before she’d met Roma
n she’d rarely thought about her looks but had concentrated only on her studies. Smiling, she felt the corner of her mouth spread against his smooth skin. “I wept because you made me happy, Roman. The happiest I have ever been in my life.”

  Her admission of happiness, the first any woman had ever spoken to him, strengthened the tug he felt in his heart.

  And when she snuggled closer to his chest and wiggled in his arms, he thought about how right it felt to have her there.

  Chapter Ten

  With Secret tied to the back of the wagon, Roman drove the buckboard down the moonlit dirt road, Theodosia fast asleep at his side. As he’d vowed to do, he’d taken her out of Kidder Pass in the middle of the night. Sleepy as she’d been, she’d voiced little objection but had quietly done as he’d asked.

  When they reached the town of Singing Creek at dawn the next morning, he carried her into the hotel. She never woke up, not even when he took off her clothes and tucked her into bed. After seeing to the wagon and horses, he joined her and promptly fell asleep beside her.

  Hours later, when Theodosia awakened, she found herself in a strange room. She had no clothes on and was lying in bed next to Roman. Her first thought was that he was as naked as she was, but the feel of his buckskin-clad legs assured her he was not.

  “What is Tibet?” John the Baptist asked from within his cage, which sat atop the small table in front of the window. “A land of giants? Who the hell is Ingrid?”

  Theodosia watched her bird fling water onto the windowpane. Where on earth were they? she wondered, examining the small but clean and well-furnished room. She remembered Roman waking her up in Kidder Pass and telling her something about throwing the Jisters off the trail, and she had vague memories of traveling down a long stretch of dark road. But beyond those things, she had no further memory of the night’s activities.

  Sweeping her gaze over Roman’s face, she decided her confusion didn’t matter. She was fine. Safe and sound. Roman had seen to that.

  Warmed by her own thoughts and the heat of his body, she looked at his hat and gunbelt, which hung on the hatstand near the door. The familiar sight made her smile. Closing her eyes, she allowed her thoughts to drift through her mind like a gentle mist through lazy sunshine, and she wondered what it would be like to wake up beside Roman every morning for the rest of her life.

  Married to him.

  Her eyes opened. She gasped so quickly that she almost choked. Jerking herself away from him, she shook her head to clear it of such a ludicrous thought.

  “Oh, Theodosia,” she whispered. “Married to him?”

  It was one thing to enjoy Roman’s company and attentions and to worry about the inner wounds his disturbing past had inflicted. It was even permissible for her to feel warm regard for him.

  But it was quite another thing altogether to fantasize about being his wife.

  What in heaven’s name was happening to her? It wasn’t like her at all to indulge in daydreaming. Such fanciful thinking had no bearing at all on reality, and she’d always prided herself for keeping both her feet firmly on the ground.

  She’d misplaced her wits, that was what. So flattered was she by this devastatingly handsome man’s compliments and passion for her—so touched was she by the tender feelings he drew forth from her—that she’d lost complete sight of her all-important objectives.

  Resolve hit her as if someone had shot it at her.

  The time had come to direct all her concentration toward her plans. She had to remember Lillian and Upton’s child. Had to intensify her efforts to find a man whose intelligence equaled Upton’s. She couldn’t forget her deep desire to travel to Brazil, either. And how could she have forgotten Roman’s own dreams? He didn’t want a wife. He wanted a horse ranch!

  Dear God, things had gone much too far between them.

  She sat up, and careful not to awaken Roman, she crawled to the end of the bed on her hands and knees.

  Her round, white bottom was the first thing Roman saw when he opened his eyes. God, what a great way to start the day! he mused, reaching for her and hauling her back into bed with him.

  “Roman, release me this very instant.” Both hands planted on his chest, she pushed with all her might.

  The real anger he heard in her voice bewildered him. Taking hold of her shoulders, he gave her no quarter as she tried to escape him. “What—”

  “I must get dressed and begin my plans—”

  “You don’t even know where you are, Theodosia. How can you make plans?”

  “I have made them.” She wouldn’t look into his eyes, knowing that if she did, she’d be completely lost. “And it doesn’t matter that I don’t know where I am. Whatever town this is, I’m certain that a newspaper office is a part of it. I must have my circulars printed and posted. If all goes well, I will begin conducting interviews by late this afternoon.”

  He no longer found her advertisements for a lover as amusing as he once had. Letting go of her shoulders, he lay back down and glared at the brass hatstand across the room.

  Theodosia got out of bed, opened one of her bags, and quickly donned a silk wrapper. “We slept together. In the same bed.” She glanced at him and immediately wished she hadn’t.

  His long ebony hair flowed over the pillow and pooled on the mattress, providing a captivating contrast to the pristine sheets.

  His size never failed to amaze her. Even from where she stood, she could see each ripple of his muscles, each masculine line of his thick, long body. One of his thighs was almost as big as her waist!

  She couldn’t understand how they’d both fit in the bed. He filled it completely.

  “It was late when we got here,” Roman told her, still staring at the hatstand but feeling her gaze traveling over him. “There’s only one bed, and I sure as hell didn’t want to sleep on the floor.”

  “You didn’t have to take my clothes off.”

  “You didn’t mind when I took them off yesterday.” He swung his feet off the bed and stood.

  Her heart swooped. Tantalized by the sheer grace locked within his tremendous frame, she could do nothing but stare as he walked toward her.

  “For God’s sake, Theodosia, tell me what happened between yesterday and now that is making you act this way.”

  I dreamed of being your wife.

  “Answer me!”

  “I have not been devoting sufficient time and energy to my goals, and do not shout at me.” Flustered, she folded her arms across her breasts, dropped them back down to her sides, then folded them across her breasts again.

  “When I—when I am with you…” she faltered, her fingers tapping the backs of her arms, “you make me forget my aims. In all honesty, I do enjoy your attentions, and as I told you yesterday, I have no immunity whatsoever against—against your sexual sorcery. But I cannot, must not forget my ambitions. Lillian and Upton’s child is—”

  “You said you didn’t regret what happened yesterday.” He flung the words at her as if he were pitching stones.

  She cast her gaze to the floor. “I didn’t. I don’t. But it was terribly unfair of me to allow you such liberties. In hindsight, I realize that my willingness gave you to believe that we would continue such intimate activities, which is not the case at all. I apologize for having misled you.”

  He didn’t want her apology. He wanted to feel her in his arms again.

  “Roman, I understand why you slept with me last night, but the time will soon come when I… Once I choose the man to sire the child…” She lifted her gaze and met his. “When I find him, you will have to sleep elsewhere, and I will tell you now that it will be for more than one night. I have no intention of failing in my endeavors and will avail myself of the man’s services until I have conceived Lillian and Upton’s child.”

  Roman’s eyelids narrowed so tightly that he could barely see. Thousands of men lived in Texas, and not all of them were like the greasy son-of-a-bitch he’d pitched out of the window in Wild Winds. It was entirely possible she wo
uld find a suitable father for the baby.

  “Do you understand, Roman?”

  His mouth twisted, but he conquered his ire. “I understand, Theodosia.” Quickly, he dressed. “Now let me tell you something I hope you will understand,” he said, buckling his gunbelt around his hips. “Your plans are your own business. The only thing that concerns me is getting the rest of the money I need for my ranch.”

  “I beg your pardon? But you already have the money to buy—”

  “I don’t have any horses,” he snapped. “How can I call my ranch a horse ranch without horses? Pay me my salary when you’re supposed to, and I won’t care if you avail yourself of the services of every male genius from here to China.”

  He stormed out of the room, slammed the door behind him, and headed straight for the saloon.

  He had whiskey for breakfast, more for his midday meal, and by the time he’d had his fill and left the saloon, Theodosia’s circulars fluttered from every post in Singing Creek.

  Though the cluster of men outside her door waited quietly, Theodosia had no intention of beginning the interviews until Roman returned.

  How could he do this to her? she asked herself for the thousandth time since the candidates had begun to arrive. Had it escaped his memory that she’d hired him to be her bodyguard? And to think she’d paid him a hundred dollars in gold in advance!

  She crossed to the window and peered down at the dusty street below but saw no sign of the irresponsible rake. Anger spread through her like slow-working poison.

  A sudden pounding on the door nearly made her knees buckle. Deeply startled, she spun away from the window and clutched the bodice of her gown. “I have already announced that the interviews have not yet begun!” she shouted at whichever one of the candidates was banging on the door. “If you will only be patient for a few more—”

  “It’s me! Open the damned door!”

  At the sound of Roman’s deep voice, relief filled every part of her. She hurried to let him into the room.