Lacey laughed self-consciously. “I…I could never stand the sight of blood,” she confessed.
“You weren’t all pale and shaky when you patched me up,” Matt remarked.
Lacey shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me so much when it’s not my blood.”
“Oh.” He unwrapped the bandana and checked the cut. “The bleeding’s stopped, but we’d better wash it out and disinfect it,” he decided. “We wouldn’t want it to get infected.”
Lacey nodded. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she tried not to flinch as Matt doused her injured finger with water from the canteen.
“This is going to sting like hell,” Matt said as he laid the canteen aside and picked up the whiskey bottle.
Lacey nodded. Holding her breath, she stared at the cobwebs hanging from a corner of the ceiling as Matt tilted the whiskey bottle over her hand. In spite of her resolve to be brave, she gave a cry of pain as the alcohol seeped into the wound, making her finger feel on fire.
Matt swore softly as he wrapped the injured digit in a bit of cloth ripped from his shirt tail. The sight of blood, his own or someone else’s, had never bothered him in the slightest. He had seen men blown to bits during the war. He had helped one of the Army doctors amputate a man’s leg and never turned a hair. He had buried men who had been hacked to pieces in a bayonet charge, or been blown to bits by cannon fire and remained calm, but seeing Lacey’s finger oozing with blood and hearing her small cry of pain tugged at his heart in a most peculiar way.
Feeling suddenly lightheaded, Lacey swayed unsteadily on her feet. Immediately Matt reached out and grabbed her, pulling her close to him.
“You okay?” he asked anxiously. “You’re not gonna faint on me, are you?”
“I don’t think so.” Lacey gave a little sigh as Matt’s arm slid around her waist, holding her tightly, protectively. It was nice to have someone look after her. It felt so good to stand in Matt’s embrace, to feel the security of his arm around her. Without thinking of what she was doing, she closed her eyes and rested her cheek against his chest. It was such a comforting chest, she thought dreamily, hard and strong and solid. She could hear his heart beating, steady and sure beneath her ear, and that was comforting, too.
Tenderly, Matt held Lacey to him. Poor little thing, he thought affectionately, and began to stroke her hair. Bending, he kissed the top of her head, his lips moving softly in the heavy, silken mass of her hair. She felt good in his arms, as if she belonged there.
Wordlessly he drew her closer to him, his hands moving to caress her back. It had been hell, living with her all these weeks, wanting her, and yet not daring to touch her for fear of frightening her with the intensity of his desire, or, worse yet, incurring her hatred. She was innocent in the ways of men, and he yearned to be the one to teach her the joys and pleasures that a man and woman could share. Nevertheless, he had been taught from childhood that a gentleman did not force a lady. A gentleman took his base desires elsewhere, for there were plenty of women who were more than willing to satisfy a man’s lust for the right amount of money.
Matt frowned. He had seen his share of prostitutes during the war, women willing to sell themselves for the price of a meal, camp followers who had bartered their virtue for food or clothing or shelter. Women of easy virtue were never hard to find. They were always there, lingering in shadowy hotel doorways or in smoke-filled saloons, waiting. Always waiting, always willing.
Matt gazed at the top of Lacey’s head. Was that all he felt for her, just lust? He wanted to make love to her, that was true enough, but he also wanted to care for her, to protect her from harm. Surely those emotions were of a higher, more noble caliber than mere lust for her sweet flesh. Was it possible he had fallen in love with her?
Lacey stirred in Matt’s arms. Lifting her head, she gave him a shy smile. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I feel better now.”
She was so beautiful, Matt thought. So darn beautiful. Her hair was like a dull flame, her eyes were wide and innocent. Cupping her chin in the palm of his hand, he lowered his head and kissed her gently. He was not prepared for the heat that shot clear through him as his lips touched hers; heat that turned his body to flame and then settled in his loins, urging him to take that which he had been yearning for since the moment he opened his eyes and saw her hovering over him. He kissed her again, his mouth hungry.
And Lacey kissed him back. Feeling suddenly shameless, she pressed herself against Matt, wanting him to kiss her, wanting to feel the hard, masculine length of his body next to hers, his arms tight around her. He was the only sure thing in a world of strangers, the only source of comfort and security. Her only source of strength. She yielded her mouth to his, her lips parting as she surrendered to the heady warmth that surged through her limbs, making her knees weak, turning her blood to fire.
Matt’s tongue gently probed the recesses of her mouth, savoring the secret sweetness within, igniting a never before known feeling of excitement in the very core of her being, a feeling of such wonder and delight that she shivered with the sheer pleasure of it. Her heart was beating a wild, primal rhythm as her arms twined around his neck, drawing him closer, wanting to absorb his essence into herself.
Matt groaned low in his throat as Lacey’s lips parted beneath his. His whole body felt alive, tingling with sensation and desire. His kiss deepened as he sought to draw her closer still. Heat washed through him, driving him to the brink of madness. Her breasts were flattened against his chest, soft and warm, exciting him still further. His hands slid down her back, cupping her buttocks, molding her hips to his, letting her feel the visible evidence of his desire.
“Lacey.” Her name was a groan on his lips. The blood pounded in his brain, roaring in his ears like the crash of distant thunder as the fire of his desire spread through him. Dimly, the faint voice of reason warned him that if he didn’t release her soon, he never would.
He started to pull away, but Lacey refused to let him go. Her arms tightened around his neck as she kissed him ardently, passionately. She was trembling with an emotion she did not understand, but it was incredibly sweet, drugging her senses, mesmerizing her with pleasure, and she knew only that she did not want it to end. Not now, not ever.
Warning bells rang loud and clear in Matt Drago’s mind. It was time to stop. She was just a kid, he reminded himself, new to passion, intoxicated with pleasure. She didn’t know what she was doing to him, what he wanted to do to her.
With an effort, he pried her arms from around his neck. “Lacey…” His voice was low and edged with the pain of wanting her.
“Please, Matt,” she murmured breathlessly.
“Lacey, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Show me,” she begged, and pressed her lips to his again, certain she would die if he didn’t kiss her again.
It was a temptation no man could resist. Knowing it was wrong, Matt lowered Lacey onto his blanket. His tongue plundered the sweetness of her mouth as his hands gently massaged her belly and thighs.
Lacey moaned with delight as a sudden rush of warmth filled her. All her senses were attuned to Matt. Her lips tasted his, her hands touched his flesh, her nostrils were filled with his scent, and her ears heard only the harsh rasp of his breathing as his mouth moved over her face, raining kisses on her eyes and nose and mouth. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to the magic of his hands, the rapture of his kisses. Waves of sensation washed through her, making her forget everything but the touch of his hands and mouth on her all too willing flesh.
She was hardly aware that he was undressing her until she felt the cool air whisper over her bare skin. She gasped with surprise as she felt his tongue slide over her breast, teasing and tormenting. She tried to stop him, but when the first shock passed, she urged him on, driven by a hunger that was new and frightening in its intensity, certain she would shatter into a million pieces if he did not satisfy the alien need raging through her. Her hands moved restlessly over his broad back and shoulder
s, delving under his shirt to stroke the hard-muscled flesh beneath. His skin was moist and warm and exhilarating, his eyes bright with desire as her fingers curled in the thick pelt on his chest, following it down, down, until it disappeared inside his jeans.
Matt uttered a hoarse cry as her hand stopped at his waist. Somehow, without quite letting her go, he managed to shrug out of his jeans and shirt, and now they were lying side by side, bodies and mouths fused together.
Outside, the rain fell in icy sheets. Thunder rolled across the darkened skies; lightning split the angry clouds. A gust of wind rattled the door of the cabin and howled above the roar of the rain.
We’re all alone in the world, Lacey mused. Just me and Matt and the storm.
She was ready for him when he rose over her, ready to give him whatever he asked of her if only he would satisfy the fierce desire that plagued her. She knew a brief moment of fear when he parted her thighs. There could be no going back now, she thought, and experienced an unexpected wave of panic.
Matt sensed the change in her, saw the sudden fright in her eyes. He should stop then and there, he knew. She was a virgin, an innocent child, and he had no right to touch her. But he needed her. Lord, how he needed her. And so, knowing it was wrong, he lowered his head and kissed her fervently, his lips tender yet insistent, and as she kissed him back, he drove into her, sighing with pleasure as her womanly warmth closed around him.
Lacey hardly noticed the brief stab of pain as he possessed her. She was lost in the wonder of his kisses, the magic of his touch.
She whispered his name as his life surged within her, filling her with delicious warmth and a feeling of endless peace…
Later, she was ashamed. She had given herself to a man who was not her husband, a man who had never even said he loved her. A man who was an escaped felon. How would she ever face her father again? How would she live with the shame of what she had done? She had sold her virtue for a few moments of pleasure in the arms of a stranger.
She didn’t move or say a word, but Matt felt her drawing away from him. “What’s the matter, Lacey?” he asked, frowning. “Did I hurt you?”
Wordlessly, she shook her head. He had hurt her, she thought bitterly, but not in the way he meant.
“Lacey…” He reached out a hand to comfort her, and she batted it away.
“Leave me alone.”
“Lacey, what is it?”
“Just leave me alone!” she repeated vehemently, and burst into tears, sobbing as though her heart would break.
In spite of her plea to be left alone, Matt gathered Lacey in his arms and held her tight. For a moment she struggled against him; then, with a sigh that seemed to come from deep inside of her, she went limp in his arms.
“Lacey, what’s wrong?” Matt asked tenderly. “You can tell me.”
“I’m so ashamed.” The words were barely audible, but they were filled with guilt and remorse.
Matt patted Lacey’s back as one might comfort a hurt child, his mind and heart accusing him of being the lowest form of scum. Of course she was ashamed. She was a nice girl, not some cheap tramp. He should never have touched her. She was young and innocent, unaware of what she was getting into, easily carried away by the newness of passion, the wonder of discovery. He had known she would regret the deed as soon as the magic dissolved and reality set in.
“Lacey,” he said slowly. “I didn’t mean to shame you. I never meant that.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” she said in a small voice. And that was the worst part of it, she thought miserably. It wasn’t his fault. The blame was entirely hers.
“I could have said no,” Matt replied with a wry grin.
“I practically raped you,” Lacey blurted, and then flushed crimson from head to heel.
Matt tried not to laugh, but the idea of Lacey taking advantage of him was so ludicrous he couldn’t help himself.
With a wordless cry, Lacey wriggled out of his arms, more humiliated than she had ever been. For weeks, she had worried that Matt might abuse her, and when it finally happened, it was all her fault. She had behaved like a shameless hussy, and now he had the nerve to laugh at her.
“Lacey, I’m sorry,” Matt apologized. “I wasn’t laughing at you, honest. You must know I wanted you, too, that nothing would have ever happened between us otherwise.”
Lacey glared at him, her brown eyes sparkling with tears.
“You’re a beautiful young woman,” Matt said sincerely. “It’s been hell, trying to keep my hands off you. If anyone’s at fault, it’s me.”
“Do you really think I’m beautiful?”
“Very beautiful,” he said huskily. “And very desirable.”
His words warmed her right down to her toes, taking some of the sting from her shame.
Matt patted the floor beside him. “Come here.”
Lacey’s heart fluttered wildly as she returned to his side. Sinking down beside him, she rested her head against his shoulder.
Matt let out a long breath. The tears shining in Lacey’s eyes pricked his conscious. He had never deflowered a virgin before and he felt guilty as hell.
“Listen, Lacey, I…as soon as we reach a town, we’ll get married.” The words were out before he quite realized what he’d said.
Lacey looked at him, blinking in disbelief. “We will?”
“I promise.”
“Do you want to get married?”
Her question caught him off guard. In truth, he didn’t want to get married. His only experience with marriage had been in watching his father and Leticia, and he had seen nothing in their relationship to recommend it. Saul Drago had been a terrible husband and a failure as a father. Leticia had performed the duties of a wife and mother, but she had never expressed joy or happiness in either role. Matt had never witnessed a happy marriage, and after his fiasco with Claire Duprey, he had decided he would never marry at all.
But now, looking down into Lacey Montana’s tear-stained face, remembering how sweet she had been, the idea of marriage didn’t seem so distasteful.
“Yes,” he said, surprising them both. “I want to get married.”
Lacey’s smile was radiant. “I love you, Matt,” she murmured shyly, and wondered when it had happened. She had tried not to like him, frequently reminding herself that he was a convict, but she had nursed him and lived with him, and somehow, in spite of herself, she had grown to love him.
“Lacey.” He drew her close, his heart swelling with an emotion he had never felt for anyone, not even Claire. Perhaps it was love, he mused, perhaps not. But whatever it was, he planned to hang onto it.
The rain stopped that afternoon. Reluctantly, they left the shack. Lacey looked back once, wanting to memorize every line of the drab little cabin where Matt had shown her what it was like to be a woman. She smiled faintly as she gazed at the sagging roof and crooked door, the rough plank walls. Somehow the place didn’t look as ugly as before.
“Where are we going?” Lacey asked as they rode away from the shack. Her stomach rumbled hungrily. They’d had little to eat in the cabin due to a lack of dry wood for a fire.
“Camp Verde’s not far from here,” Matt replied, thinking out loud. “We can pick up some supplies there. Could be they’ll have news of the Apache.”
Lacey nodded. She had almost forgotten about her father, lost as she was in the glow of Matt’s lovemaking, but now she was suddenly more worried about him than ever. She had heard dreadful stories of men who had been tortured and abused by the Indians, tales of such cruelty and savagery that she had refused to believe they were true. Surely even a people as godless and fearless as the Apache were rumored to be could not be as barbaric as she had been told.
With a shake of her head, she put such thoughts from her. It was too beautiful a day to contemplate cruelty and ugliness. Better to assume that her father was alive and well until she knew otherwise.
She gigged her horse up beside Matt and smiled prettily when he glanced over at her. The mere touch
of his eyes on her face made her heart sing, and Lacey thought that, except for not knowing where her father was, she had never been happier in her life. The sky was a warm, vibrant blue, the distant trees were emerald green and fresh-washed from the rain, the sun overhead was the color of butter. Cinder’s steps were lively, and Lacey had to hold the mare on a tight rein to keep her at a walk. Oh, but it was good to be alive!
The day flew by, and now, lying snug in her blankets beside their banked campfire, Lacey could not sleep. Her emotions were in turmoil and she tossed and turned restlessly. All she could think of was Matt and how much she yearned to be in his arms again. Her whole body longed for his touch, her lips ached for his kiss, yet she could not bring herself to call him even though she could see him sitting cross-legged beside the fire. He was staring out across the plains, a cigarette clamped between his teeth, a brooding expression on his face. His profile stood out in vivid detail, bronzed by the embers of the fire, and she thought again how handsome he was. Desire was a new emotion, one she did not quite know how to handle. She knew it was wrong of her to want Matt, knew she should not allow him to make love to her again until after they were legally wed. But she wanted him so much, and she wanted him now. If only she had the nerve to call him; but then, what could she possibly say?
Lacey let out a sigh of frustration. She didn’t know much about men. Perhaps Matt didn’t want her again so soon. Better to say nothing than ask for his loving and be refused.
Matt Drago took a deep drag on his cigarette, then exhaled a cloud of blue-gray smoke. From the corner of his eye, he could see Lacey tossing restlessly in her blankets. He was restless, too, he mused, restless and wanting. He had thought that once he had possessed Lacey, the desire that had plagued him would be satisfied; instead, it had only made it worse. All day, he had thought of little else. Several times he had been tempted to drag her off her horse and tumble her in the grass, but he knew she would be shocked and repulsed by anything so crude. Shocked and ashamed. Hadn’t she made it perfectly clear last night that she had been horrified by what they had done?
LaceysWay Page 9
