by Heidi Betts
Rave Reviews for Heidi Betts!
Walker's Widow
"Filled with humorous adventures and simmering sensuality. Ms. Betts displays her wit to perfection in this story."
—Romance Reviews Today
"Nobody spins an entertaining, sexy yarn better than Heidi Betts, and Walker's Widow is her best one to date."
—Reader To Reader
Cinnamon and Roses
"Cinnamon and Roses is an engaging and fast-paced tale . . . a well-crafted debut novel that will leave readers eager for Ms. Betts's next one. Excellent!"
—Rendezvous
"Books like Cinnamon and Roses are few and far between. The story will tug at your heartstrings and tickle your funny bone. . . . Cinnamon and Roses is a keeper."
—Reader To Reader
A Promise of Roses "
A delightful romance that enthralled and enchanted me from the beginning. An outstanding read."
—Rendezvous
"Snappy dialogue makes this a quick read."
—Romantic Times
"The dialogue is dynamic, the writing superb! Ms. Betts is an absolutely wonderful writer. . . . Don't miss any of [the Rose trilogy]! FANTASTIC! 5 BELLS!"
—Bell, Book & Candle
Pushing the Limits
The convict took a step forward, and Callie shrank back automatically. But he only extended one shackled arm far enough to offer the return of her wrap and shift.
"You might want to put these on. It's been a good long while since I've had a woman, and there's no sense pushing the limits of my control."
Callie couldn't have agreed more. Taking the clothing, she half stood and shrugged them over her damp body as quickly as possible, showing as little flesh as she could manage. She stood in the middle of a foot of water, holding the hem of her gown up to keep it from getting wet. The man offered a hand to help her, but despite the chivalry of the gesture, she refused to touch him.
Semingly unperturbed by her rejection, he retracted the preferred hand and instead stooped to spread the earlier missing towel on the floor beside the tub. The thick iron chains rattled with every move he made.
She had one foot on the towel, the other lifted to step the rest of the way out of the bath, when his next words froze her in place.
"Why don't we make this short and sweet for everyone involved? Just tell me where the boy is, and I'll be on my way."
Other Leisure books by Heidi Betts:
Walker's Widow
Almost a Lady
Cinnamon and Roses
A Promise of Roses
A LEISURE BOOK®
July 2002
Published by
Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
276 Fifth Avenue
New York, NY 10001
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."
Copyright © 2002 by Heidi Betts
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.
ISBN 0-8439-5030-7
The name "Leisure Books" and the stylized "L" with design are trademarks of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Printed in the United States of America.
Visit us on the web at www.dorchesterpub.com.
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
This book is dedicated to the thousands of innocent men, women, and children who lost their lives in the September 11, 2001 attacks on the World Trade Center in New York City and The Pentagon in Washington, D.C.
For those aboard all four hijacked flights, who so bravely tried to warn us that the planes had been taken over, and in some cases even tried to prevent what was about to happen.
For the legions of firefighters, police officers, rescue workers, and volunteers who rushed to the scenes, risking their lives to save others.
For my fellow Americans who gave their time and resources and even their very blood, coming together once again to show just how strong a nation the United States can be.
And for the families of all the loved ones who were taken from us that day. As I was writing this book, I prayed for you and want you now to know that your sons, your daughters, your husbands, wives, sisters, brothers, friends, grandchildren, and countrymen will never be forgotten.
God bless you all.
May the road rise up to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warmly upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon your fields.
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.
—An Old Gaelic Blessing
Prologue
Lily White hadn't been a whore all her life. In fact, if her parents’ intentions by giving her such a name were any indication, she should have been a businessman's wife, a seamstress, maybe even a schoolmarm.
But the cards for Lily's destiny hadn't been dealt in such a tidy manner. Instead, her brother had died of snakebite on the trip from Ohio to Texas, and she'd been forced to complete the rest of the journey by wagon train on her own.
She and her brother had planned to, buy a small plot of land to begin farming and raising cattle or sheep or some other form of livestock. But when she'd arrived in Purgatory, with no family to help her shoulder the burden, she'd
Heidi Betts been forced to support herself by any means necessary.
That was why the name Lily White was now synonymous with the best sex a man could buy for two gold nuggets or seven pieces of silver.
No, Lily White hadn't been born a whore, but she'd certainly perfected the vocation.
Now, however, she was thinking of getting out of the business. She wanted a home and a family and a reputation that didn't cause proper women to cross the street when they saw her coming. She wanted a man to love her, and care for her, and stay in her bed long enough to actually sleep.
That man, she'd decided, was Wade Mason.
And there was only one small hitch in her plan: presently, Wade Mason was a guest of the Texas State Penitentiary at Hunstville.
Not that she had any intention of letting that stop her.
Her back ramrod straight, she perched on the hard seat of a worn wooden chair outside the warden's office. She'd been waiting nearly twenty minutes for the man to make an appearance so she could appeal to him to let her see Wade.
She knew prisoners weren't normally allowed visitors, but Lily was nothing if not persuasive. By the time she finished convincing Warden Luckett to approve her request, he would likely be willing to grant her anything she wanted.
Just then,
the door opened and Warden Luck-ett emerged, his dark blue suit impeccably pressed, his black hair well and truly oiled. His equally slicked-down mustache was no thicker than the string tie at his throat.
"Miss White,” he murmured pleasantly, stepping forward to take her proffered hand.
The grease from his pencil-thin mustache, which he must make a habit of stroking, left a stain on her brand-new ivory gloves, but Lily hid her annoyance. Her goal today was too important. If it cost her a fifty-cent pair of gloves, it was a small enough price to pay.
The long black feathers of her burgundy felt and velvetta hat fluttered as she inclined her head and lowered her lashes in a way that had sent hundreds of men before him slavering at her feet. “Warden Luckett. How gracious of you to agree to see me."
"My pleasure, my dear. Why don't you step into my office, and you can tell me about this urgent business that brings you to Hunstville."
Lily moved ahead of him, making sure to brush against him as she passed, twitching her hips back and forth in an exaggerated swaying motion beneath the narrow bustle of her low-cut walking dress. By now, she had the warden's full attention, just as she'd intended.
Taking a seat in front of his desk, she made a long drawn-out show of arranging her skirts and discarding her gloves while he moved around to take his chair.
For several minutes, Luckett didn't speak, focused instead on Lily's movements as she tugged material slightly away from each of the five fingers on her left hand, repeated the motions, and then removed the accoutrement altogether. She did the same with the right glove, smoothing both pieces over one knee before raising her eyes to meet the warden's intent gaze.
Of course, his gaze wasn't precisely on her face, but more in the region of her generous bosom.
When he caught her looking at him, Warden Luckett jerked up his head and cleared his throat, a flush of embarrassment climbing his neck. “Now, then,” he began, stopping to clear his throat again, “what is it I can help you with, Miss White?"
"I'd like to see one of your prisoners,” she said without preamble. “Wade Mason."
The warden frowned, marring his otherwise smooth brow. “I'm afraid that's impossible, Miss White. Visitors aren't allowed. These men are hardened criminals. They need to be punished, and allowing visitors is not a way to teach them the difference between freedom and incarceration."
Lily had known that, of course, but Warden Luckett's fervor on the subject did little to change her mind. “I realize it's a unique request, but it's very important that I speak with Wade. Our mother has . . . taken a turn for the worse."
Luckett's eyes narrowed. “You and Inmate Mason are related?” he asked, his voice tinged with surprise.
"He's my brother. White is my . . . late husband's name.” The lie rolled easily off her tongue.
The warden's gaze flicked back to her chest, and then his features hardened. “I'm sorry, Mrs. White, I can't allow it."
Coming slowly to her feet, Lily cocked her head and gave him a pouty, sensual look. “Oh, but Warden Luckett, it's ever so important that I be allowed to see Wade."
She made her way around his desk. Luckett's chair squeaked as he twisted in her direction. Setting her gloves aside, she leaned close, spreading the sides of his jacket and reaching for the clasp of his belt. His head whipped down to her nimble fingers, watching with wide, round eyes, mouth agape.
"I would be willing to do just . . . anything if you'd give me a few minutes alone with my brother,” she cooed, slipping the leather strap through its silver buckle. Once she had the belt and the top button of his pants loosened, she dropped to her knees and wiggled between his splayed legs.
"Oh, please, Warden Luckett,” she whispered, fingering his rigid length. “Do say you'll sanction this one, itty-bitty request."
He opened his mouth, emitting nothing more than a strangled squeak. And then his head moved up and down, bobbing in tandem with his rock-hard organ.
Lily smiled sweetly and whispered, “Thank you.” Then she lowered her head and paid him back for the favor he'd just granted.
Ten minutes later, a uniformed guard led Lily down a dank, narrow corridor that smelled of mildew and urine and . . . worse. Battered wooden cell doors with barred windows no larger than a human head lined the walls, and the sounds coming from behind those doors made Lily's skin crawl. Even in the middle of the day, the walkway was shadowed. The guard led with a burning torch, and she imagined any number of hideously dangerous criminals pacing and slobbering on the other side of those bars.
Another ten paces down the dark passage, the guard stopped, fitted the torch into a sconce on the wall, and pulled a wide ring of long metal keys from his belt.
"The warden says I should leave you with the prisoner for as long as you like, but I wouldn't dally if I was you. Mason's a mean one, he is.” He fitted the key into the lock, opening the heavy wooden portal with a creak.
"I'm sure I'll be fine,” Lily told him, moving forward.
He held the door for her, waiting until she'd taken one step into the room. “All the same, I'll wait out here in casen you need me."
She nodded, letting her eyes adjust to the lighted interior of the cell. It wasn't much, just a sliver of daylight shining through the equally tiny barred window adjacent to the one in the door. And still she jumped when the door slammed behind her, the key once again grating in the lock, this time trapping her inside.
She couldn't see anything, wasn't even sure the guard had taken her to the correct cell. “Wade?"
A squeak met her ears, and she turned in the direction of a small cot resting against one wall, hidden in the shadows beneath the narrow strip of sunlight.
"Who is it?” a voice asked, cautious and unnecessarily gruff.
"Oh, Wade,” she cooed, finally able to make out a man's form. She rushed forward and fell to her knees before him. “Wade, it's Lily.” Tears came to her eyes when she ran her hands over his cheeks and found his face gaunt beneath a thick growth of beard. “Oh, Wade, I've missed you. What have they done to you?"
His laugh was harsh and bitter. “Treated me like a criminal, what else? What are you doing here, Lily? How did you convince them to let you in to see me?"
Sniffing back her tears, she smiled tremulously and rested her hands on his thighs. Thighs thinner than she remembered. If she'd known that bastard warden was starving Wade, she might have bitten him while she'd had his most delicate body part deep in her mouth.
"Don't worry about how I got in,” she chided. “Just know that I'm here for you."
She lifted up on her knees, pressing a kiss to his mouth and running her hands over his chest and hips. His body immediately came alive, just as she'd known it would.
"Lily,” he ground out, making a token effort to grab her wrists and still her wandering touch. “What are you doing?"
"It's been so long, Wade. Don't tell me you don't want me."
"It's hard not to want a woman when she's got her hand down your pants,” he muttered. And it had been a long time. He hadn't been with Lily, or any other woman, in longer than he cared to remember. Prison wasn't exactly a prime place to find a swatch of calico to cuddle with.
Her hands dug into his prison-issue trousers, weighing and stroking, reminding him of all the things Lily used to do to him when he was a free man and he'd been paying for her time.
"Make love to me, Wade,” she murmured. “Touch me the way you used to. I've missed you so."
The gentleman in him poked him in the ribs and told him to push her away, told him a man in his position would never use a woman in such a manner. Never mind that the woman had come to him. Never mind that she did this sort of thing for a living.
The beast in him was beyond rational thought, reaching, straining, ready to rut. And if he'd needed any further convincing, Lily's hand on his ballocks and mouth on the tip of his shaft wiped any further argument straight out of his mind.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Lily,” he muttered gruffly.�
� ‘Cause I'll be damned if I can turn you away."
Even in the dark of the cell, Wade saw her smile. “I know exactly what I'm doing, darling."
She rested her palms flat on his thighs and rose to her feet, then moved to the empty side of the cot and lay down, lifting her skirts to her waist. Open and willing and waiting, that was Lily. No niceties and no preliminaries, just straightforward sex. Which was exactly what he needed at the moment.
He'd never quite pictured Lily White as an angel before, but at the moment, he thought she might have been sent straight from heaven just to ease the ache that was throbbing through his body at the speed of a steam-driven locomotive.
Tearing at his shirt and jumping out of his pants, he quickly joined Lily on the narrow cot, covering her soft, sweet-smelling body with his own hard and sweaty one. He wished he'd been able to bathe before her visit, shave, and maybe rid himself of the lice and other vermin he was sure had taken up residence on various parts of his anatomy.
Because Lily seemed so eager, he wasted no time stroking or whispering or readying her for his entry. Lily had never needed coaxing, anyway, and she seemed exceptionally fervent today.
And so, with one quick thrust, he buried himself deep inside and began the rocking rhythm that would bring them both to completion.
Her fingers curled into his shoulders, his hands clutched her buttocks. A second later, Wade's body tensed as he spilled himself into her. It was over too soon, of course, but it had been a long time—too long—and when he lifted his head, Lily didn't seem disappointed. In fact, she looked quite pleased, smiling and licking her lips in a slow, sensual gesture that brought him back to hard, throbbing life when only moments ago he thought he'd never rise again.
"You all right?” he asked, shifting but not breaking their intimate link.
Burrowing her fingers in the hair at his temples, she sighed. “More than all right, darling. I'm perfectly lovely. I hope it will always be this way between us."
