Texas Glory

by Lorraine Heath

  He smiled warmly. “Then you can tell me that, too.”

  “How will I know what you like?”

  His smile deepened. “You’ll figure it out.” He trailed his mouth along her throat, up her neck, until his lips were near her ear. “But I guarantee I don’t want you lifting your gown for me. When I truly make you my wife, I don’t want you wearing anything at all.”

  She gasped and stiffened. He ran his tongue along the delicate shell of her ear. “I’ve spent a month wondering if your body is as lovely as your face. Tonight I intend to find out.”

  “Are you going to be wearing anything?” she asked breathlessly.

  He dipped his tongue inside her ear before taking a quick nibble on her earlobe. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

  “Is that the way it’s done?” she asked.

  He lifted his head and met her gaze. “That’s the way we’re gonna do it. And if it takes me all night to get you comfortable with the idea, then we’ll take all night.”

  She smiled warmly, her large brown eyes aglow like a thousand candles burning in the night. She placed her palm on his chest, her fingers splayed just above his heart, her hand steady. The only tremors he felt were those running through his body as he held his urges in check, not wanting to frighten her. He never again wanted to see fear of him reflected in her eyes.

  “I don’t think it’ll take all night,” she whispered.

  “Thank God for that,” he rasped as he again took possession of her mouth.

  She ran her hands up his chest, and twined them around his neck. Groaning, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed her body flush against his. Their bodies met exactly as he’d imagined it a hundred times: perfectly, the way the sky dipped down to touch the land at the horizon, blue against green, soft against hard.

  He thought he could feel her heart pounding in rhythm with his, beating against the cloth that separated her body from his. Slowly, he moved his hands around to the lace that decorated her throat.

  With a patience he hadn’t known he possessed, he worked the first tiny button free and trailed his mouth down to press a kiss to the newly exposed flesh.

  Her arms fell away from him as he worked another button free and then another, his lips following the virgin trail that the parted material revealed. Her breath hitched as his knuckles skimmed the inside swells of her breasts. He planted a fervent kiss in the valley between her breasts as his fingers gave freedom to the last of the buttons.

  He straightened and slipped his hands beneath the material at her throat. He could feel the slight tremors cascading through her, and feared they had little to do with passion.

  “Look at me. Dee.”

  Her eyes met his. “I think Boyd’s way was easier,” she whispered.

  “His way would have cheated us both. I give you my word on that.” He raised his hands to cup her cheeks. “But I won’t force you to share your body with me.”

  She pressed her fingers to her lips, tears welled in her eyes, and his heart sank. Boyd’s way may have been easier but he’d be damned before he’d only know a portion of her when he wanted to know all of her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, inside and out.

  “Share?” she asked. “I never thought of this as sharing.” She lowered her hands and smiled softly. “It’s not so frightening when I think of it as sharing.”

  “I want to know all of you, Dee. Not just your face and the shape of your toes, but all of you.” He glided his hands down her face, her neck, and along her shoulders. Then he slipped the parted material off her shoulders.

  The gown slid down her body and pooled at her feet, taking his breath with it. He scooped her into his arms and carried her to the bed.

  Gently he laid her down. He began to unbutton his trousers. Her almond-shaped eyes rounded.

  “Don’t be afraid, Dee.”

  “I won’t be,” she said.

  “You can close your eyes if you want.”

  “Don’t you think I’ve wondered what you look like?”

  He suddenly wished he’d doused the flame in the lamp, that the room was clothed in darkness. Being self-conscious wasn’t something he was accustomed to feeling, but after putting her through the ordeal of baring her body, he couldn’t very well deny her the chance to see him. Holding her gaze, taking a deep breath, he dropped his trousers.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he said, his voice low.

  “I know.”

  Her gaze dipped down, then shot back up to his.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he pleaded gently. “I’m not afraid.”

  He eased onto the bed. She jumped when his thigh touched hers.

  Cupping her face with his palm, he placed his mouth near her ear. “I can’t stand it when you’re afraid of me, Dee.”

  “I’m just nervous.”

  He trailed his mouth along her neck and dipped his tongue into the hollow at the base of her throat. She tasted fresh, pure, and unused—unlike any woman he’d ever tasted.

  “Don’t be nervous,” he said.

  He lowered his face until his mouth touched the swell of her breast. She gasped. Without moving his mouth, he glanced up to find her watching him. He moved lower. His tongue circled her nipple.

  “Dallas?”

  “Shh. Every night I dreamed of tasting you.” He closed his mouth around the taut bud and suckled gently.

  Closing her eyes, she moaned. He skimmed his mouth over the valley between her breasts and swept his tongue over her. He glided his hand along her stomach, a stomach as flat as the prairie. Months from now, it would swell, swell with the son he might give her tonight.

  He nestled his hand between her thighs, and when she might have protested, he covered her mouth with his, his tongue delving deeply, devouring her sighs, her moans.

  Not until she twisted her body toward his, did he give himself the freedom to move his body between her thighs. Then as gently as the wind blew across the plains, he eased his body into hers.

  She stiffened and he held still, knowing as fact what he’d only before known as rumor. He had no choice but to hurt her.

  “I’m sorry, Dee,” he rasped as he blanketed her mouth with his, plunged deeply, and swallowed her cry.

  Cordelia wrapped her arms more tightly around him, the plea for forgiveness she heard in his voice bringing tears to her eyes. He stilled above her, his body taut. He continued to kiss her, only to kiss her, as though he couldn’t get enough of her.

  His mouth blazed a scorching trail along her throat. “It’ll get better, Dee.”

  She plowed her fingers through his hair, cradling his head, turning his gaze toward hers. “I want this,” she whispered. “I want to give you a son.”

  He released a guttural sound low in his throat, and she felt his chest vibrate against her breasts. He returned his mouth to hers, kissing her deeply, his tongue plunging, sweeping, caressing.

  He moved against her, slowly, almost hesitantly. The pain receded, and a warmth deep inside her began to unfurl.

  He slid his hand beneath her and lifted her hips. “Follow me, Dee,” he pleaded in a ragged voice near her ear.

  As though she had any other choice. He raised himself above her, his thrusts growing deeper, faster. She watched the shadows within the room play over his chiseled features.

  And then as he had done from the beginning, he began to guide her toward the sunlight. To a place where no shadows hovered. She cried out his name as a myriad of sensations exploded within her.

  Dallas felt Dee’s body tighten around him as she arched beneath him. Pressing deeply, he followed where she had gone.

  Glory had never felt so sweet.

  Dallas awoke. He had turned down the flame in the lamp before he’d fallen asleep beside Dee. Now only moonlight spilled in through the parted drapes. He rolled to his side and reached for her.

  All he found was the fading warmth of her body. Squinting through the shadows, he saw her standing beside the window, peering into the night, her arm
s wrapped around herself.

  He eased out of bed and joined her. “Dee, are you all right?”

  She glanced at him and smiled timidly. “I just wanted to hold it.” “Hold what?”

  “The baby you gave me tonight.”

  He trailed his fingers along the curve of her cheek. “I might not have given you a baby.”

  She furrowed her brow. “But we—”

  “It doesn’t always happen the first time.”

  “Then what do we do?”

  “Well, we have two choices. We can wait and see if you have your woman’s time or”—he smiled warmly—“we can assume you’re not carrying my son and we can keep trying. The choice is yours.”

  She averted her gaze, and his heart sank. “You shouldn’t feel any pain the next time. It hurt tonight because you were a virgin.”

  She nodded quickly. “I think we should wait and see.”

  He’d given her the choice and she’d taken it. He didn’t know which hurt worse, his pride or his heart.

  “Fine, then.”

  He walked to the bed and snatched his trousers off the floor. “You just let me know.”

  He strode from the room, closed the door, and headed for his cold empty bed. He wished he’d bedded her as Boyd had suggested.

  It’d be a hell of a lot easier to stay away from her if he didn’t know how perfectly her body aligned with his, how snugly she fit around him, how wonderful she felt.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTEEN

  Cordelia wondered how in the world a wife looked at her husband the morning following the night that they had made love.

  How did she meet his gaze without remembering the hint of wine that had lingered on his lips, the bronzed shade of his skin, the muscles that had tensed as he’d risen above her, the sweat that had beaded his throat and chest as he’d rocked against her, the groans, moans …

  She splashed more cold water on her face, trying to drown the images of Dallas’s clenched jaw and his smoldering gaze.

  She couldn’t face him. She would simply stay in her room until she knew if she was carrying his son. She would … miss out on so much of life.

  Last night had been an unexpected gift. It had been unlike anything she had witnessed between her parents. It had not resembled anything Boyd had hinted at.

  The knock resounded against her door. She hoped it was Austin, but even as she strolled across the room, she recognized the steady staccato rap as belonging to her husband.

  She bundled more snugly within her wrapper and opened the door. His gaze darted around the door frame before finally settling on her, and she wondered if he found it as difficult as she did to speak of mundane, inconsequential things after the intimacy they had shared.

  “You didn’t come down to eat breakfast,” he said gruffly. “I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

  She couldn’t bring herself to admit that she experienced a slight tenderness when she walked. “I’m fine. Just fine.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Are you hurting?”

  The heat flamed over her cheeks as she lowered her lashes. “A little.”

  “I’m sorry for that. I’ll … I’ll do what I can to make it better next time.”

  She dared to lift her gaze. “If there is a next time. Maybe we were lucky last night.”

  If she didn’t know him as well as she did, she would have thought she’d hurt his feelings from the expression that had flitted across his face.

  “Yeah, maybe so,” he said. He shifted his stance. “Are you going into town to get your damn prairie dog or do you want me to fetch her?”

  The brusqueness in his voice hurt more than a dull-bladed knife plunged through her heart. After his abrupt departure last night, she had feared that she had somehow disappointed him. Now, she knew without a doubt that she had. She swallowed her tears. “I’ll fetch her.”

  “Fine.”

  He turned on his heel, took two long steps, halted, and glanced over his shoulder. “I need to talk with Tyler today. I’ll ride into town with you if you have no objection.”

  Like a pebble thrown onto still waters, the joy rippled through her. “I’d like that. It’ll just take me a few moments to get ready.”

  “Take your time. I’ll saddle our horses.”

  She slipped into her room, pressed her back against the closed door, and splayed her fingers over her stomach. She wanted to give to Dallas as much as he’d given her. If only fortune had smiled on them last night.

  Dallas had shared so much of himself with her, had given her such immense gratification, that she didn’t see how he could not have given her a child as well.

  As Dallas rode beside Dee, he took pleasure in the smallest of things: the graceful slant of her back as she sat her horse, the loose strands of hair that toyed with the wind, the anticipation that sparkled within her eyes as they neared town.

  Dallas had decided in the early hours of the morning, as sleep eluded him, that he would steer clear of his wife until she knew whether or not they had gotten lucky.

  That resolution had lasted until dawn’s fingers crept into his room, and he awoke alone with the thought of a day not shared with Dee stretching out before him.

  He couldn’t deny that he wanted to be in her bed every night, buried deeply inside her, but he also recognized that he wanted more than that.

  He wanted her warm smiles at breakfast, her laughter as she galloped across the prairie on Lemon Drop, the squeeze of her hand, the joy in her eyes, her soft voice when she spoke to him.

  If he couldn’t share her nights, he had decided sitting at the breakfast table with no one but Austin for company that he would content himself with sharing her days and evenings.

  She fairly stood in the saddle as the site for the hotel came into view.

  “Oh, Dallas, they’ve started building it.”

  “Of course they have. That’s why you broke the ground for them yesterday.”

  “Still, I didn’t think it would happen so fast.”

  She turned to him with such a radiant smile that it was all he could do not to reach across and plant a sound kiss on her mouth.

  “Can we go in closer and watch?”

  “It’s your hotel, Dee. You can hammer the nails into the wood if you want.”

  “Can I?”

  “Sure.”

  As they brought their horses to a halt, Tyler Curtiss left the throng of workers, smiling broadly. “Morning!”

  Before Dallas could dismount and assist his wife, Tyler was enjoying the privilege, his hands resting easily on Dee’s waist.

  Jealousy, hot and blinding, shot through Dallas like molten lead, catching him off guard. Even when he’d suspected Houston had harbored feelings for Amelia, he’d never felt jealous. Anger, certainly, but nothing that made him want to snatch a man’s arm off simply because he’d helped his wife dismount.

  Tyler stepped away from Dee and waved his hand in a wide circle. “What do you think?”

  “It’s wonderful. I can’t believe you already have a portion of the frame up.”

  “The bonus Dallas offered the men if they get the hotel finished within three months had the men sawing and hammering at daybreak,” Tyler explained.

  Dee turned her attention to Dallas. He shifted his stance, uncomfortable with her scrutiny.

  “You’re paying them a bonus?” she asked.

  “Figured the sooner they finished, the sooner you could get your ladies here, get them trained.”

  Tyler looked as though a good strong wind might blow him over. “What ladies?”

  “Dee plans to have women managing her hotel and lady waiters serving food in the restaurant.”

  “Lady waiters?” He grinned crookedly. “You wouldn’t have had to pay a bonus if you’d told the men that.”

  “These are respectable women,” Dallas said, “not whores. Any man who doesn’t treat them properly will answer to me.”

  “Marriageable women?” Tyler asked.

 
Dee glanced quickly at Dallas, then at Tyler. “They’re not coming with the express purpose to marry, but I expect a few of them might decide marriage is in order.”

  “Where are they going to live?”

  “In the rooms we’re putting above the restaurant.”

  “Then I need to get the men back to work and get this hotel finished.”

  Dee stepped forward. “Mr. Curtiss?”

  He spun around. “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Can I hammer a nail into place?”

  “Yes, ma’am. You can do anything you want. Women waiters. Who would have thought …”

  Standing back, Dallas watched as his wife confidently walked around the construction site, greeting each man individually. She hardly resembled the woman who had stood in his parlor, hesitant to pledge herself to him.

  He wondered if she ever looked at the men she was coming to know and wished she had been given the opportunity to choose the man who would be her husband.

  A man handed her a hammer while another gave her a nail. Two other men held a board in place. She pounded the nail into the wood, satisfaction spreading over her lovely features.

  He wondered if she might have invited another man to return to her bed last night, if once with Dallas was enough; if once with another man might have never been enough.

  He despised the doubts that plagued him because he would never know if given the choice, she would have chosen another.

  Squatting in the tall prairie grasses, Rawley Cooper held the prairie dog close and watched as the lady walked through the skeleton of the newest building.

  She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He figured she looked like an angel—if angels existed. He harbored a lot of doubts about things like angels and heaven … and goodness. But the lady made him want to believe.

  She stepped through a hole in the frame and backed up a few steps, holding her arms out, as though she couldn’t believe how big it was.

  Then she turned, smiled softly, and began walking toward him.

  His heart started beating so hard that he could hear it between his ears, and it hurt to take anything other than a little breath. He stood, clutching the critter close against him. It yelped and struggled to get free, but he held it tight.