by Debra Cowan
He stilled. “Ivy?”
“I wish I’d kissed you the other night.”
Desire flared in his eyes, but he didn’t pull her closer, didn’t lean toward her. He gave her no encouragement at all.
Moving her palm to his strong, corded neck, she tried to bring him to her. He wouldn’t budge. She let out an exasperated breath and threw back his words of the other night. “You said you wouldn’t put up a fight.”
He went hard against her, his entire body. This time, when she tugged at him, he dipped his head to meet hers.
A voice in the back of her head sounded a warning, but her need was stronger. This man touched her deep inside where no other ever had. She felt a bond with him, a completely unexpected bond. She needed more of that connection.
Their mouths touched, and a sudden near desperation filled her. She wanted another slow, thorough kiss like the one he’d given her at their wedding, but that wasn’t what she got. This one was demanding and deep, hungry. And every bit as devastating as their first one.
A simmering mix of relief, longing, hunger swept through her. A burning urgency to be as close to him as a woman could be to a man.
He filled this emptiness inside her, the hollow ache of loss that she’d carried even when Tom was alive. The only thing she cared about was being close to Gideon, satisfying the fiery itch in her blood.
She wanted him. All of him. Now.
He slanted his head at a different angle, moved his mouth from hers to her cheek, then nipped lightly at her earlobe.
She shivered. It was a good thing he was holding her because the starch went right out of her, and her legs nearly gave. She clutched him tighter.
His breathing ragged, Gideon pulled away. “You’re goin’ to my head. We’d better stop.”
“No.”
“Ivy?” His voice was hoarse, his muscles drawn taut with restraint.
She didn’t want restraint. “I want you,” she whispered.
Desire sharpened his features, then a pained expression crossed his face. “You gotta be sure.”
She had confessed her deepest, most awful secret to him. She wanted to share all of herself. Going up on tiptoe, she nipped at his lower lip then pressed light kisses along the scar on his jaw.
That got him moving. He swung her up in his arms, and by the time they reached her bedroom, he had her bodice undone. The glide of his hot mouth down her neck only fueled her impatience to feel his naked flesh against hers.
He laid her on top of the blue star quilt, pushing her blouse off. Her skirt and petticoats followed, falling to the floor along with her drawers. His callused hand moved between her legs, and he gently slipped one finger into her silky heat.
Arching against him, she tugged his shirt over his head.
When she touched the hot, supple skin of his chest, he froze.
Her finger traced a web of scars beneath the dark hair on his chest. The wounds were barely visible in the shadowy light. “Is this okay?” she whispered.
He gave a sharp nod, ridding her of shoes and stockings. She ran her hands over granite-hard shoulders, palms skimming ragged patches of flesh. Each stroke had her heart aching.
His mouth skimmed down her throat, moved to her breasts as he tugged the ribbon of her chemise and anchored her to him so he could shove off the undergarment.
When she lay there without a stitch, his gaze locked on her with an awe and appreciation that sent a rush of heat through her entire body.
“I’ve never seen anything like you in all my born days,” he breathed reverently. His eyes were hot with a raw need she’d never seen in another man.
She kissed him again, fumbling with the button on his trousers. He shucked off his boots and socks then his pants. He came down on top of her, his hair-roughened legs nudging hers wider. His big hands glided up her sides to cup her breasts, his thumbs teasing her tight nipples before he put his mouth on her.
Sliding her arms around his hard shoulders, she moved beneath him, unable to help the plea in her voice. “Gideon, don’t wait.”
He lifted his head, his chest heaving against hers. His skin was sheened with sweat and shadow.
His clean male scent had her nuzzling his neck. “Now.”
Staring into her eyes, he smoothed her hair back and slid inside. She cried out at finally connecting with him, the moment unexpectedly poignant. His eyes blazed with such naked emotion that her chest tightened. Something huge and scary rolled through her, and for an instant she felt emotionally raw, completely vulnerable.
Then her body took over. They moved together in a blur of heat and pleasure. She held on tight as Gideon drove her up a dizzying peak. Her hips met every stroke of his body. He possessed her, silently demanding she surrender every bit of herself. It sent her over the edge and he joined her, his muscles bunching beneath her hands.
He collapsed against her, his face buried in her hair. At some point, he had unraveled her chignon. She hadn’t even noticed.
He rolled to his back and brought her on top of him. His heart beat heavy and quick beneath her, slowing as they lay together.
Gideon kissed her shoulder. “That was somethin’.”
There was no complaint in his drowsy voice. She certainly had none. She had never known marital relations could be like that. Exciting, yes. Consuming, almost frightening? No.
She eased away slightly, looking up when he didn’t protest. He was already asleep. His clean soap scent teased the air. Out back, a cow bawled. Down the hall, she could hear the pup’s snuffling snores.
She tried to quiet her mind, but she couldn’t. Making love to Gideon had been more than she’d imagined. More delicious, more intense, more...disconcerting.
The entire time he had kept his gaze on her, and she had been unable to look away. He seemed to see all of her, and he wanted everything. It scared the daylights out of her.
Not only had she seen desire in his blue eyes, but also tenderness and what she feared was love. Love would ruin everything.
She had reached out to him on impulse. Though she wasn’t sorry for it, she was on the edge of a risk she didn’t want to take. Ivy had shared her entire self with Gideon, but had he done the same? She had no idea.
Trusting another man completely, wholly? She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t let herself be caught in that quicksand again. No matter how much she might wish things were different.
* * *
When Gideon woke the next morning, he lay there enjoying the feel of his wife against him. In the hazy state between asleep and awake, he drowsily savored the softness of her sleek curves. Her hair, an inky curtain of silk between them, tickled his chest. The scent of their loving mingled with a subtle whiff of magnolia from Ivy’s skin.
She lay quietly, snuggled into him. After her initial reference to his scars, she hadn’t mentioned them again. She hadn’t seemed bothered by them, either. Then again, their lovemaking had been fast, urgent, more so than he had wanted, but it did mean she hadn’t dwelled on the vicious marks on his body.
The mattress gave a little, and she slipped out of bed, waking him fully. He opened his eyes in time to see her drawing on her blue wrapper. He propped himself up on one arm, admiring one bare shoulder and the gorgeous fall of her hair.
“Morning,” he said.
“Oh!” She jumped, turning with a sheepish smile. “You startled me.”
“Sorry.” He glanced at the watery sunlight creeping under the oilskin shade. “Do you have to get up so early today?”
“Laundry day.” She threw him a quick smile, belting her wrapper.
He itched to turn her right around and unwrap her. Sitting up instead, he swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, reaching for his trousers. They were half-hidden under the bed.
He snagged them and pulled them o
n as he stood.
“Oh,” she breathed behind him.
He tensed. Was she looking at his scars? When he turned, she quickly shifted her attention, but he felt the heat of her gaze. What he saw there was appreciation, not revulsion or disgust.
If he thought he stood a chance, he’d toss her back on that bed, but he could tell she was ready to get moving.
He buttoned his trousers then tugged his shirt over his head. “I’ll see to the livestock and come back in to help you with whatever you need.”
“Thank you.”
He moved around to her side of the bed for his socks and boots. She ducked out of the bedroom and into the kitchen area. As he finished dressing, he stared at the rumpled sheets on the bed.
He was smiling when he strode out of the bedroom and found her lighting a fire in the cookstove.
“Need me to bring in some water?”
He thought she hesitated briefly before nodding. “Yes, please.”
On his way past her, he stopped and stroked a finger down her cheek. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Yes.” She offered a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
A sudden disquiet needled at him, and he didn’t know why. “Be right back.”
He jogged outside to the pump. Ivy appeared to be of the same mind about their marriage as he was. A sense of contentment rolled over him, a satisfaction he’d never experienced before.
After breakfast, he offered to help her clean up, but she shooed him off. He made his morning check around the farm and the woods, glad to see there were still no signs of any trespassers. Though he wanted to believe there would be no more trouble, he wouldn’t bet on it.
Shortly following the noon meal, he made his way to the backyard, where Ivy was doing laundry. The pup trotted alongside him. His wife had changed into a gray day dress and was bent over a tub of water, scrubbing at a garment on the washboard. Her bodice pulled taut across her back, outlining her slim waist.
She had braided her hair and coiled it into a low chignon, exposing her elegant neck. Gideon could still feel the velvety softness of her skin. Remembered that she tasted like sweet cream.
She rinsed what he now saw was one of his shirts. The dog raced up to her with a happy yip. He closed the distance between them, his boots making no sound on the grass.
“You need any help?”
Ivy jumped, frowning at him as she wrung out the garment. “This is the last of the wash.”
“I can hang it for you.”
She seemed to hesitate before giving the damp shirt to him. After draping it over the clothesline, he turned to find her struggling to tilt the kettle onto its side.
“Here.” He reached her in two steps and tipped the cast-iron pot over, draining out the water.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
“Anything else I can do?”
“Not right now.”
“Okay.”
The dog stayed close to Ivy when Gideon returned to the barn and began to muck out the stalls. Less than an hour later, he saw her wrestling a rug from one of the guest rooms. It took some doing, but she managed to drape it over the porch railing then began to beat out the dirt and dust.
This time when he offered assistance, she refused. If he didn’t know better, he’d think she didn’t want help or anything else from him.
Later that afternoon, when he saw her spreading fresh linens on the beds in the guest rooms, he decided to test his theory. This time, he didn’t ask. He just stepped into the room and moved to the opposite side of the bed, snagging a corner of the sheet she’d unfolded.
She frowned. “What are you doing?”
“Helping.”
“But—”
“You don’t need help,” he finished drily. “I know.”
He tucked the linen in at the foot of the bed then smoothed it across the mattress before Ivy spread the quilt over it. When she moved to the next room, so did he.
“I really can do it myself.” Her voice was soft, even, but she wouldn’t look at him.
He finally understood. What she meant was that she wanted to do it herself. He studied her for a moment. Her gray dress was wrinkled, and wisps of hair, damp from perspiration, curled around her face. Her features were drawn, weary.
Maybe she was just tired. She’d been working since sunrise. No lingering in bed for her, even though he hadn’t seen the harm.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll leave you to it.”
He moved around the bed and out into the hall, seeing the pup curled up asleep under the dining table. What was going on with Ivy? Gideon wondered.
All day, she had stayed close to the house, been careful not to touch him if he were nearby. If the dadgum woman had let him help today, even just once, maybe she wouldn’t be so tired.
As he entered the front room, he spied the platter of fried chicken covered with a white cloth. Covered dishes of beets, bread and cake shared space on the table.
They could have a picnic down by the river. That would get Ivy away for a bit, and she wouldn’t have to worry about the dishes.
After gathering the food, he started past the dry sink, aiming for the root cellar and a jar of pickles.
“What are you doing?” Ivy asked behind him.
He glanced over his shoulder. “I thought we could take a picnic to the river. There are plenty of leftovers from lunch.”
“We can eat here.”
Frowning, he turned. “Everything’s ready, and you won’t have to worry about cleanup.”
She threw a longing glance at the meal he’d put together. Good, he thought. She wanted to do it.
“I don’t think so,” she said.
“What? Why not?”
“We can just eat here.”
“That’s not an answer.”
She angled her chin at him. “I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Not a good idea? What the hell? “I thought it would be nice.”
“It would.”
“Then what’s the problem?” He stilled as a thought streaked through his mind. She’d avoided him today whenever possible. “You don’t want to be alone with me.”
“I never said that.”
“You’re not saying anything,” he growled, shoving a hand through his hair. “Do you think I’m going to try to get you out of your clothes?”
She colored, her gaze skittering away.
She did! The idea sounded good to him, but even a half-wit could see she didn’t agree.
Was she embarrassed because they’d been intimate? Surely not. She wasn’t a virgin.
It was something else. Something to do with him, but what? It had never mattered much to Gideon that he couldn’t fathom a woman’s mind, but it sure would come in handy right now.
She was withdrawn, aloof, acting as if he hadn’t seen and touched every inch of her body. And that was the problem, he realized with a flash of anger. “You regret that we consummated our marriage.”
“Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“I asked you straight out if you were sure you wanted to be with me, and you said yes.”
“That’s right. I did.”
“So tell me why you don’t want me around today.”
“I didn’t mean to cause a fuss. Your idea of a picnic is good. Let’s go.”
“No. I want to know what’s going on.” He folded his arms across his chest and stared her down. “Why are you pulling away? Acting like last night never should’ve happened?”
It wasn’t because of his scars. She hadn’t recoiled from those at all. “Answer me,” he said. “Are you sorry about last night?”
After a long moment, she said, “We probably shouldn’t do it again.”
That cau
ght him right in the gut. “Why the hell not?”
“I haven’t changed my mind about having a husband, staying married.”
“We’re good together.” When she blushed, he shook his head. “Not just that way.”
“It’s not you.” Her voice cracked.
He stepped toward her. “It’s Tom. You haven’t told me everything.”
“You won’t understand.”
“I want to.”
She studied him for a long moment.
“He changed after we married.”
“How? In what way?”
“He became lazy, barely helped around here. Blamed me when things went wrong. I thought I was marrying a man who wanted to be my partner.”
“Instead, he wanted you to take care of him.”
“I could’ve dealt with that.”
“Then what?”
“He was always opposed to liquor, but after the war, he couldn’t get enough.”
As gently as he could, Gideon said, “Honey, a lot of soldiers turned to drink. Things we saw, the things some men had to do were just too much. Sometimes liquor is the only thing that will dim those images.”
“I know that. And I hate what he suffered, what all of you suffered, but Tom was vehemently opposed to alcohol. Both of his parents were drunks. Their negligence caused the death of his sister. Tom swore he would never drink, but he did.”
“When he started, he couldn’t stop?”
“That’s right. And he became mean, violent. After a while, I didn’t know him at all.”
“Is that what you think about me?” Gideon struggled to understand. “That I’m hiding my true self?”
“I don’t know, and that’s the problem. I don’t trust—”
“You don’t trust me? What have I done to make you feel that way?”
“It isn’t you. I don’t trust any man. That’s not fair, but it’s the truth.”
His frustration ebbed. She needed reassurance. That was all. He closed the distance between them. “There are no surprises I can spring on you. You know everything about me.”
“That’s not true.”
He went still inside.
