by Debra Cowan
She tugged his shirt out of his trousers and slid her hands to the bare skin beneath, pushing the fabric up to his shoulders.
He reached back and yanked the garment over his head, his hand going to her breast. Making a rough sound, he lifted up, muttering, “Buttons.”
“In the back.”
He groaned.
She laughed softly and pushed at his chest so she could sit up.
Propping himself up on one elbow, he closed a possessive hand on her hip.
As her hands went to the top button, his nostrils flared slightly. She stopped, suddenly looking alarmed. “Oh! Naomi could come back any minute.”
Russ shook his head. “Ef’s taking care of her.”
“What do you mean? What did you tell him to do?”
“Whatever he wanted.”
She swatted at him and he grinned.
“He’s going to keep her busy, just like I’m gonna do you if you’ll get on with it.”
Flushing, she started on the buttons again. He lasted through three of them before sitting up and brushing her hands aside. An impatient sound rumbled out of him. Thumbing open the tiny buttons running down the back of her dress, he peeled back the fabric, nipping and laving her nape.
He dragged hot kisses from the top of her spine to the hollow of one shoulder blade. She shivered, making his arousal rock-hard.
She pushed the sleeves down, the dress falling to her waist as she reached for the front of her corset. Russ wrapped an arm around her and brought her back until she sat between his thighs.
She sent him a questioning look over her shoulder.
“Keep goin’,” he said gruffly. “I wanna watch.”
She blushed to the roots of her hair, but she turned her attention back to the task. Anticipation pulsed inside him, so sharp it was almost painful. He couldn’t wait to see this, to see her. His mouth actually watered.
Gathering her hair in one hand, he pushed it to the other side and licked the shell of her ear.
She moaned and sank back into his chest.
He put his hands over hers. “Don’t stop,” he whispered.
He rested his chin on her shoulder, setting his teeth on a spot on the side of her neck and watched as she unhooked her corset then tugged at the satin tie on her chemise.
His breath sped up, grew rougher.
The ribbon gave, loosening the undergarment enough so that Russ could see the beginning swells of her breasts. He splayed his big hand on her stomach, touching the undersides of her breasts then brushing his thumb across her nipples.
She made a ragged sound and turned her head for his kiss.
When he dragged his lips from hers, he moved to the tender patch behind her ear, again tracing its shell with his tongue. She curled a hand around his neck, arching back into him. Her taut nipples pushed at the thin material of her undergarment. He couldn’t wait any longer.
She inhaled sharply when he pulled at the gathered neckline of her chemise and slid the loose fabric over her shoulder and down her arm, tugging the garment off that side. The other shoulder of the chemise slid down and he pushed it to her waist, baring her.
“Damn,” he breathed. He couldn’t help cursing. She was so beautiful there. Everywhere.
Her nipples were rosy and tight, her breasts full, begging for his touch, his tongue. His hands covered her and the sight of his work-roughened hands on her plump, perfect flesh had his mouth going dry.
She squirmed in his lap, pressing against his erection, driving a hard-edged need through him. He shifted her so he could stretch out beside her.
Enthralled, he brushed his thumb along the curve of one lush breast. “Sugar, you are gorgeous.”
He lowered his head, curling his tongue around her nipple. His name spilled brokenly from her lips.
Urged on by the rush in his blood, Russ dragged her dress and chemise down her legs, catching her petticoats, too, and dropping them all to the floor. Soft white light played over the flat of her belly and she quivered beneath his gaze. For some reason, that got him even hotter.
She slid her arms around his shoulders and pressed into his touch. Skimming her hands down his chest, she flexed her fingers in the hair there. He pulled the tapes on her drawers, pushed them down, tugged off her boots at the same time.
He swept a hand up her thigh, his thumb drawing lazy circles on her bare hip. She shifted restlessly beneath him, moving a hand down his stomach into his trousers. He clenched his muscles as his mouth returned to hers.
She undid the top button of his trousers, then the next and the next, until she could slip inside and close her hand around him. He squeezed his eyes shut, muscles coiling as he reached for control.
Raising his head from her breast so he could see her, he coasted his palm down her stomach then between her legs, delving a finger into her silky heat.
Her body went soft as his thumb circled the sensitive knot of nerves between her legs. She gave a small cry and her muscles tightened around him.
He levered himself between her legs, nudging her thighs wider with one of his. She touched his back, his flanks. His mouth closed over one breast. Easing inside, he paused when he felt a barrier of flesh.
He went still. “You’ve never?”
“No.” She stared up at him, flushed, her eyes soft with desire.
The thought that he would be her first made his insides tighten and throb, released some primitive ferocious urge. It took considerable effort not to bury himself in her completely right then.
He moved his mouth to her other breast and her body opened to his. When she relaxed around him, he stroked a hand through her hair. “This will hurt the first time.”
“I don’t care.”
Nuzzling her breasts, he teased her with his tongue, his fingers, not going further until he felt her body go soft around him.
She lifted her hips against his. “It’s okay, Russ.”
Need hammering at him, he kissed her, long and slow, then smoothed her hair away from her face. Her eyes were closed, her face glowing.
“Look at me.”
She did and the complete surrender there nearly set him off. Holding her gaze, he growled, “You and me, Lydia. No one else from here on.”
She clasped his face and kissed him. Holding her hips, he thrust hard. She winced, shying away from him. “Sorry,” he whispered.
“It’s okay,” she said breathlessly. “I’m all right.”
He brushed kisses across her eyelids, her cheek, her forehead. Careful not to move until she relaxed around him, he dipped his head and drew one nipple into his mouth. Finally, he felt her tight flesh give around his, and he began to move in slow, deliberate strokes.
When she melted around him, he slid his hands beneath her hips. He tilted her, his body touching the nerves at the apex of her thighs with each stroke. The little sounds she made sawed at his restraint, but when she caught his rhythm and moved with him, Russ knew he couldn’t last much longer.
He swept a hand down her hip, lifted her thigh just a tiny bit so he could go deeper. “C’mon, sugar.”
She moaned his name and came apart in his arms. He went over the edge with her. She held him tight as he stilled and buried his face in her hair.
Giving her a soft kiss, he rolled to his side, taking her with him, settling her against him so he could feel every inch of her, soft to his hard, curve to his muscle.
They lay like that a long time. He felt wrung out and at the same time, energized. The feel of her bare skin against his was intoxicating.
He couldn’t believe how much he still wanted her. The longer he had kept her at a distance, the more he realized he wanted something with her that he hadn’t wanted with any woman since Amy.
Lydia was a woman he could make promises to. What he felt for her was stronger than anything he’d experienced for anyone before. Now that he knew her secrets, he could admit to himself what he’d known for some time.
He’d fallen and fallen hard.
Ly
dia’s legs tangled with his as she relaxed against him, boneless and content. Russ grabbed the edge of the counterpane and pulled it up the side of the bed, covering both of them against the chill. He put off enough heat for two people and Lydia was plenty warm.
“You all right?” His voice rumbled above her.
“Oh, yes,” she sighed. Her fingers flexed in the hair on his chest. A fine sweat dampened his skin and hers, too.
Her entire world narrowed to the man who had come to mean so much to her. The deep male scent of him, the hard muscle of his chest.
He trailed his big hand from her shoulder to her hip. She lifted up and kissed him, her hair sliding across his torso. When she pulled back, he smiled and slicked his thumb across her bottom lip. His eyes blazed with such naked emotion that Lydia felt her heart turn over.
She was so relieved he was okay, that he was back.
Russ stroked his hand up and down the curve of her waist. “You sore?”
“A little.” She smiled up at him.
He settled his hand on her hip. He was hard, but he didn’t try to do anything about it. If possible, her heart melted even more.
“It’ll be lots better next time,” he said huskily.
“It was pretty wonderful this time.”
He lifted her chin, searched her eyes as though making sure she really thought so. Making a deep rumbling sound, he combed his fingers through her hair.
They lay in languorous silence, comfortable and easy. Lulled by the strong feel of his arms around her, she drew in the musky scent of their lovemaking.
“You’re not sorry, are you?” he asked quietly.
“No.” She lifted her head, staring into his blue eyes. “Are you?”
“Why would I be sorry?”
“Maybe it wasn’t as good for you. I’ve never done this before.”
“Knowing I’m the only man you’ve ever been with about blows my boots off. Before, I never thought about it much, but I have to admit I like knowing there’s been nobody but me. That makes you different from any other woman I’ve ever known.”
She was his and only his. It was special to her, too.
They lay there quietly, kissing, sometimes soft, sometimes deep and hot. His hand trailed down to the curve of her hip. She drifted off, coming awake when she felt something brush her temple.
Opening her eyes, she found Russ dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed. He leaned over her with one hand on either side of her body.
“Where are you going?” she asked drowsily.
He kissed her softly. “To the kitchen to scrounge up something to eat.”
“Oh, I forgot all about that.”
“So did I. When I was getting dressed, it occurred to me that someone might see me leaving your rooms. If you want me to leave now, so as not to compromise your reputation, I will.”
“I don’t want that.” She ran her hands up his arms. “You’ll just have to be sneaky.”
“Okay, you’ve talked me into it.” After another kiss, he asked, “Want me to bring you something?”
“I’ll get dressed and come down.”
He slowly tugged the sheet until he uncovered the swells of her breasts. “I can help.”
“I don’t need help getting my clothes off.”
The tenderness in his smile made her feel shivery inside. His gaze drifted over her face, the heat there stirring her up even more.
“I’ll be quick,” she said. “Go on down. You’re probably starving.”
“You sure? I don’t mind waiting.”
“I’m sure.”
He helped her out of bed, dropped a kiss on her shoulder and walked to the door.
“If there’s pecan pie, don’t eat it all,” she warned.
“You better hurry.” He opened her door, checked the hallway then stepped out, winking as he shut the door.
Lydia left her corset off. It was late enough that she wouldn’t run into anyone. After slipping into a dress she could button in the front, she started downstairs. The hotel was quiet, still.
Being with Russ felt right. Looking back on her life before, something about Wade had always nagged her, but never hard enough for her to be able to figure out what it was. Now that Lydia was with Russ, she knew.
Wade hadn’t cared about her the same way Russ did, completely and wholly.
There were no guests on the second floor or in the lobby. Unable to stop smiling, Lydia walked into the kitchen. She didn’t pay much mind to the open pantry until she realized Russ was nowhere in the kitchen.
A half loaf of bread and a knife sat on the table. Her heart skipped a beat.
He could’ve stopped at his office for something. Or to look over the new shops, but Lydia knew—she just knew—he was in the storage room.
Dread punched at her. This wasn’t how she wanted him to find out. She wanted to be the one to tell him. With the way the storage room was designed, the guest currently down there wouldn’t be immediately visible.
Lydia moved through the pantry, apprehension choking her. She stopped just inside the open door, able to see through the lantern light that he stood with his back to her.
His voice was quiet. “Do you need food? Some kind of help?”
He’d seen the women. Lydia winced.
“Feel free to stay as long as you need,” he offered. “I’ll tell my business partner so she’ll know what’s going on.”
Those words drove into her like a spike. What he’d said made her painfully aware that he was planning to do what she hadn’t—tell his partner what was going on in the hotel.
His voice was kind, not measured or suspicious. Maybe he hadn’t guessed the truth about those women and the secret operation. That hope shriveled and died when he turned to start up the stairs.
Something in her face must’ve given away the fact that she already knew about the women because his features turned hard, his eyes cold with anger and hurt.
He stalked up the stairs and past her through the pantry. She closed the door, following him out. “Russ—”
He clamped a hand on her upper arm and towed her out of the kitchen, across the lobby.
She almost had to run to keep from tripping. He dragged her into his office and slammed the door, dropping his hold on her as though he couldn’t stand to touch her.
“Tell me what the hell’s going on right now, and don’t even think about putting me off or lying to me.”
Chapter Fifteen
L ydia’s heart slammed into her chest. Where did she start?
“Why did you go in there?”
“I’m asking the questions.” Fury vibrated in the air between them. “Those women I saw looked like they’d been beaten.”
“Yes.” When she hesitated, the dark look that came over his face pushed her on. “The Fontaine is a stop on their way to another safe station.”
“Safe station? Like the underground railroad?”
“Yes, but for abused women.”
“How long has this been going on?”
Wary of the leashed anger in his voice, she asked, “Here?”
“Yes, here.” He kept his massive body in front of the door, blocking any escape.
She felt trapped. “Since we arrived.”
“We?” His voice was measured, controlled. “Naomi, too?”
“Yes.” Lydia clenched her fists to hide her shaking hands.
“How many women have you helped?”
“A dozen or so.” She had to tell him everything now. The issue was no longer that she might not be able to trust him. It was that he didn’t trust her.
“How does it work?”
“We receive word from other safe stations when a person has left there to come here.”
“Some of those telegrams you receive aren’t about your brother-in-law. They’re telling you when to expect someone.”
“Yes.”
“The women stay here for a night or two, then move on?”
“That’s usually how it works, not alway
s.”
“Like the lady who had the baby isn’t able to leave yet.”
She nodded.
His eyes went flinty with suspicion. “That woman who was shot in the lobby? You said you didn’t know her. Was that a lie?”
“No.” Lydia tried to hang on to her temper. He had every right to be angry, to feel betrayed. “I didn’t know her, but—”
“But she was coming to the hotel because she knew it was a stop on your…network.”
“I think so, yes.”
“When I asked you that night, point-blank, if you knew her, you said no. You made it sound as though you had no idea, didn’t know why she would be here, but you did.”
“I didn’t know for sure.”
“You had a good idea, especially when you saw she was battered.” His features hardened. “Naomi knew, too.”
“Neither of us have ever known if Reggie Dawkins figured out the hotel was a safe station or if he thought his wife just happened to stop here for shelter.”
“He knew. That’s why he shot at you and not me, who had a gun trained on him. It makes sense now. He knew you were trying to help his wife,” Russ said savagely. “And Dawkins could’ve killed you or Naomi.”
“You probably saved our lives that night. At the very least, you protected the operation. I’ve wanted to thank you a hundred times.”
He gave her a flat stare. “Who else?”
She blinked.
“Who else knows?”
“Willow.”
“The baby she delivered.” Lydia could see Russ putting it together. “The woman didn’t come here because she had heard Willow had experience with childbirth.”
“That’s right. She stopped here as part of her escape route, then went into labor.”
“What else haven’t you told me?”
“That’s all.”
His furiously disbelieving look slammed home just how much she’d hurt him, how much she had ruined by not telling him about the operation. “I promise. That’s all.”
He gave a harsh laugh. “Do I look like I’m going to fall for that twice? I don’t know why I think you’d tell me now. I have to be the dumbest SOB walking this earth. Here I’ve been believing that I knew your secrets, that I knew exactly what was going on. I didn’t know a damn thing.”
