It was good to know that he, too, shared this wondrous sensation when they were close. Too many times, she knew that men and women felt no magic together. More often than not, those marriages became more of a prison sentence than a glorious bond of two souls becoming one. But that wouldn't happen with her and Brady. She felt it right down to her bones.
There was magic between them. There was rightness. There was… dare she think it? Destiny.
She snuggled in closer still, enjoying the feel of his hard, solid body pressed along hers. Her breasts ached. Butterflies took wing in her stomach, and her breath came in short gasps. But she ignored it all, far too intent on enjoying every moment of this time with him. His hands on her back felt warm, strong. His breath brushed across the top of her head and ruffled her hair and she sighed.
"Do you feel it, Brady?" she asked, her voice quiet, to keep from breaking the spell between them.
A groan sounded from deep in his chest and it seemed to her as though it were coming from the depths of his soul. "Oh," he said clearly through gritted teeth, “I'm feeling plenty, Patience."
"I'm glad."
He choked out a half-laugh. “You are, huh?"
"Oh yes," she said and reluctantly lifted her head from his chest to look up at him. She stared into his eyes and said, “I'm glad we feel this way about each other because I want our marriage to be a full and… passionate one."
A flash of something she couldn't quite identify darted across his eyes. "Patience —“
She spoke up quickly. "I know, it isn't seemly for a woman to speak about such things, but I want you to know that I'm… eager to be your wife."
"Jesus," he muttered, closing his eyes briefly before looking at her again. "Patience, we shouldn't be talking about this."
"Yes we should," she said, and moved her hands from his back to his chest.
His jaw clenched.
Her palms slid across his white shirt and she imagined the feel of his hard, muscled skin beneath her hands. A flush of excitement raced through her and stained her cheeks with heat. Her knees felt a bit wobbly, but determined to stay her course, she locked them and looked him dead in the eye.
"I can see you're worried about me, Brady," she said, reading the concern and wariness in his gaze. "But you needn't be." She frowned slightly, then went on. "I'm not sure about some of my memories, but one thing of which I will always be certain is my love for you."
As soon as she said the words, he flinched. She felt it in the slight tightening of his grip around her body, saw it in the flex of his jaw muscle.
"Damn it, Patience —“
"Brady, don't you see?" she said, sliding her hands up higher until she was able to encircle his neck. "This was meant to be."
"What was?" he managed, though she swore he hadn't moved his lips at all.
"Us," she said, smiling, willing him to believe her."We were meant to be."
He released his grip on her waist and reached up to pull her hands from behind his neck. Holding her hands in his, he shook his head and said, "Patience, you can't go on talking like this."
She held on to his hands, curling her fingers around his, refusing to let go. "You're right, Brady. We can't go on talking. We've already spent too much time talking."
Boldly, Patience went up on her toes then, tilted her head to one side, and slanted her mouth across his in a soft, gentle kiss. She gasped as, instantly, a bolt of lightning sparked through her from head to toe. She actually felt her blood sizzling in her veins and wouldn't have been surprised to find her hair was on fire. Deliberately, she swayed into him, giving herself up to the startling sensations coursing through her. She pressed her mouth, lips pursed, more firmly to his. She wanted more. Wanted to feel her blood race and her heart pound wildly in her chest.
Brady held perfectly still.
He told himself she didn't know what she was doing. Reminded himself that she wasn't right in the head.
But damned if she didn't feel right.
His body pulsing with a shock he never would have anticipated, he tried to figure out how a crazy woman could electrify his body with the briefest touch of her lips. But there were no answers. There was only hunger. A raw, pounding hunger that raged and clawed at his insides, demanding to be fed.
Her hands tightened on his and Brady squeezed her long, slim fingers until even in the grip of desire, he was afraid he just might snap them. And as that thought presented itself, he released her and let his hands drop to her waist. While he held her, she drew her head back to look at him.
"Oh my," she whispered and Brady looked into her eyes, drawn to the wild, excited gleam he saw there. “That was very nice."
He choked out a short laugh that scraped against his throat. "Nice? Patience, you are amazing."
She grinned at him and damned if that smile of hers didn't hit him almost as hard as that innocent, unpracticed kiss had.
"You liked it too," she• said, "I could tell."
"You could, huh?"
"Oh yes," she said, nodding. "But if I'm not mistaken, I believe that I was doing most of the kissing."
"Is that right?" he asked, his hands spreading against the small of her back. Blast it, he knew he should let her go, but for some reason, he wasn't quite ready yet to release her.
"Of course, I' m not an expert," she continued, keeping her arms around his neck and pressing herself closer to him. "But I do think that if we both participated, it might be even better."
He sucked in a gulp of air and felt his resolve weakening. Brady'd never thought of himself as the kind of man to take advantage of a woman. Hell, he'd never had to. The women he spent time with were willing and eager and, more often than not, professionals. Women who were no more interested in hearts and flowers than he was.
Yet now a woman with stars in her eyes was looking at him like he was some kind of storybook hero. And damned if it wasn't working.
"Kiss me, Brady." she said and fire erupted inside him.
Hunger rode him hard and Brady wanted nothing more than to give in to it. But in one corner of his mind, a small, insistent voice of reason whispered, “She's out of her head. She doesn't know what she's doing. She thinks you love her.”
And even as that last thought flitted through his mind, he silently told that little voice to keep quiet and yanked her tight against him. How had he come to this? he wondered. Only a few minutes ago, he'd been furious. Now, that anger was forgotten in a rush of need so desperate, Brady nearly shook with it.
Her lips parted in surprise and he pushed all thoughts from his mind as he bent his head to claim the kiss he needed more than he cared to admit. He planted his mouth on hers and wrapped his arms around her in a viselike grasp.
If he'd thought that she might be a bit timid about a real kiss, he was mistaken. Patience gave as good as she got. And though her response was untutored, she made up for the lack of expertise in pure enthusiasm.
She pressed her body fully against his and he swore he could feel her nipples hard and erect, pushing into his chest. Brady groaned, parted her lips with his tongue, and took her mouth with a fierceness he hadn't planned. His insides lit up like a bonfire at midnight and every square inch of his body damn near hummed with reaction. He tasted her, exploring the secrets of her warmth, and with every stroke of his tongue, she held him tighter, closer. Her fingers curled into his shoulders. Her breath puffed against his cheek.
It was as if he'd touched a match to kindling.
Her passion erupted and all Brady could do was hold on to her and enjoy the ride. She clung to him, moving her mouth against his, slipping her tongue into his mouth with such wild sweetness, he felt the floor beneath his feet tilt and his world tip to one side.
He'd never expected such a response from Patience. But here, in the most unlikely female, he'd discovered more blazing desire than he'd ever encountered before. And Brady's body tightened until he thought he might explode.
He slid his hands up and down her back, tracing the lin
e of her spine, and felt her shiver with his every touch. And still it wasn't enough. Suddenly, urgently, the desire to know her, to feel her beneath his hands came crashing down on him. She moaned gently and he swallowed it, feeding on it, feeling her urgency match his own. Fueling the flames within until he felt as though his skin were on fire. He'd never felt this before. Never knew he could feel like this, and dammit, he didn't want to.
Staggered by the wild tangle of emotions nearly strangling him, Brady finally tore his mouth from hers and took a hasty step back.
Staring at her, he scrubbed one hand across the back of his neck and fought to draw air into straining lungs. Jesus, what had just happened here? he asked himself. He'd come up here looking for a fight and instead he'd come too damn close to bedding her. That thought sent another tremor shooting through him and it was all he could do to keep from reaching for her again.
Damn it.
Even now, his hands trembled with the need to touch her. He felt the warmth of her sliding deep within him and tried to stand against it. But Patience was a hard woman to ignore.
"Well, now," she said breathlessly. "See? Didn’t I say it would be better?"
He shot her a glare that should have fried her to the spot. But instead, she only gave him another of those smiles of hers and it was as if some unseen hand had dropped a lit candle into the corners of his soul. Brady actually felt the edges of darkness inside him being pushed back and, damn it, he resented it. He didn't want anything from her. He didn't want to feel. He didn't want to be a part of her delusion and he bloody well didn't want to want her.
“Patience," he began, then stopped to clear his throat, using that time to also remind himself that she was nuts. It wasn't her fault that he'd overreacted to her kiss. Obviously, he'd been without a woman too long — something he meant to rectify immediately. But as for now… "Look," he said, searching for the right combination of words. "While you're here, it'd be best if you just stayed the hell away from me."
There, he thought. Simple. Direct. To the point.
"Oh, I don't think so," she said, and his gaze locked on her kiss-swollen lips.
Naturally she'd argue. He had a feeling that if the God she was so fond of actually stepped down out of the clouds to personally hand her the keys to heaven, Patience would find something to argue about.
“I do," he said bluntly, ignoring the quick shine of disappointment in her eyes. Hell, he told himself, she was crazy. By tomorrow she'd have forgotten all about this. "You just keep clear of me. Patience. And everything'll be fine."
He started for the door, determined to put as much distance between them as possible. Her voice stopped him cold.
"Are you afraid of me, Brady?"
Half turning, he looked over his shoulder at her and told himself not to notice her mussed hair, the shine in her eyes, and the mouth that seemed to be calling to him. Her breath chugged in and out of her lungs and her breasts rose and fell in rhythm. His palms itched to touch her again and he licked dry lips that wanted nothing more than to taste every blessed inch of her.
He drew one long, shaky breath and looked directly into those golden eyes of hers. Then he admitted to something he'd never owned up to before when he muttered thickly, “Damn right I am, lady."
#
A few days later, Patience was forced to admit that Brady was determined to stay away from her. Any time she entered a room, he left it. When she looked at him, he turned his head. When she spoke, he acted as though he hadn't heard her.
This was not going well.
And for the life of her, she couldn't understand why. After the kiss they'd shared, she would have been willing to wager — even, she thought, smiling, with a professional gambler like Brady — that he would finally admit to his love for her.
But apparently Brady Shaw's head was just a bit harder than her own.
Still, she had the memory of their kiss to sustain her. He'd responded to her every bit as much as she had to him. Eventually, she would overcome his reluctance by the sheer will of her love for him. And he wouldn't be able to stand against the inevitable forever.
Until that happy time, though, she needed to be busy. Which is why she was now standing in the center of what had once been a kitchen at the back of the saloon. Scowling to herself, she turned in a slow circle, letting her gaze sweep across the dust and grime. Apparently, no one had used the place in years. But it was time to stop using Treasure's kitchen.
The cookstove on the far wall was encrusted with heaven knew what and the windows were nearly black with accumulated dirt. But appearances — as she well knew — weren’t important. It was possibilities that mattered.
With that thought firmly in mind, she unbuttoned the cuffs of her old gray dress and rolled the sleeves up past her elbows. Then snatching up a longunused broom from a cobweb-filled corner, Patience got busy.
The first brush of the straw against the floor sent a cloud of dust thick enough to choke her into the air. Instantly, Patience crossed the narrow floor to the back door and flung it open. A blast of sunshine spilled into the room, and when she turned back to face the kitchen again, she noted that the bright light defined every filthy inch of the place.
Patience sighed and just for a moment felt her spirits sink at the enormity of the task ahead of her. Still, this was important. Not only to her, but to Brady. If she were successful — and she had absolutely no doubt that she would be — he would see what an asset she really was. Besides, her new idea would keep her busy and everyone knew that old saying about idle hands.
Grabbing up her broom again, she attacked the layers of dust on the floor with all the determination of an invading army.
#
Davey rolled his hoop past the saloon and around back, intent on following the thing wherever it went. After all, he had nothing else to do. Mr. Tuttle's barber shop was closed on account of him going fishing, so there was no hair to be swept up and no money to be made. He'd already finished his work for Miss Bea and at the livery. So he'd come to the saloon, hoping Brady would have a job needing doing.
But Brady, just as he had been for the last few days, was shut up in his office. Joe had told Davey to skedaddle, saying Brady was in no mood to be hearing a youngster clamoring around the place. That seemed sort of odd, since the gambler had never minded Davey hanging around before. But then, since Patience had come to town, lots of things were different.
He'd heard the talk. Folks whispering about her, wondering about her. But she didn't seem to care, or even notice.
The back door was open and Davey stopped, surprised. He'd never seen that door standing wide. As far as he knew, nobody used it.
A cloud of dust and dirt flew through the opening and sailed right past his nose.
"Hey!" He grabbed his hoop and jumped backward, out of range.
Instantly, Patience was at the door, sticking her head out and staring right at him. "Pestilence! I am sorry, Davey. I had no idea you were in the line of fire, so to speak."
"That’s all right, ma'am," he said and took a step forward, now that it was safe. Walking closer, he peeked into the old kitchen, glanced around, then looked up at the woman beside him. "Whatcha doin'?”
She sighed and leaned one forearm on the broom handle. "I'm trying to clean this mess."
"How come?” he wondered aloud, his gaze once again straying around the room.
“I want to be able to use it."
"For what?"
She smiled at him and durned if Davey didn't feel a curl of warmth settle in his belly. She surely did have a way about her, he thought. That was probably why Brady was having so much of what Joe called "female troubles."
She reached out and scooped his hair back from his face before he could duck. "I'm thinking of using this kitchen to supply hot food for the saloon."
Davey blinked at her. "But the saloon already has the bar lunch and all."
“True," she said, and turned to look around the room."But that's merely meat and bread. If I can
get this kitchen working again, we can have hot meals. And bakery goods."
His mouth watered. "You mean like cakes and doughnuts and such?"
"Exactly."
Now that sounded pretty durned good to him. And it occurred to him that she just might need a little help, that he could do his part to bring cookies and such to town and at the same time make him some money. If she was willing to hire him, that is. Well, he figured he'd never know if he didn't ask.
He rocked back on his heels, real casual, like he'd seen Brady do sometimes. Then, holding tight to his hoop, he worked up the nerve and asked quietly, "Could you maybe use some help?"
Patience looked at him for a long moment then answered his question with one of her own. "Shouldn't you be in school, Davey?"
A sting of embarrassment tugged at him. Sure, he should be in school. But he'd rather eat. And if he didn't work, he'd get mighty durned hungry. Besides, someday, he figured to learn how to read and write and do his numbers. He just couldn't do it now, was all. Still, she didn't need to know all that, so he squared his shoulders, lifted his chin, and met her gaze.
"School's for children, ma' am," he said. "And I’m no child. I'm a man and I'd rather work."
She just stared at him for what seemed an awful long time and Davey had the strangest feeling that she was looking right into the heart of him. He wanted to squirm uneasily, but stood his ground instead. And even managed to straighten up, trying to look as tall and grown-up as he could manage.
Patience tapped the tip of one finger against her chin and looked the boy over. Her heart ached to see him so scrawny and in such ill-fitting clothes. But pride shone in his eyes and she had to be careful not to step on it. "And what kind of wage would you be expecting?"
"Uh," he said, shrugging shoulders that were far too narrow to carry the burdens he obviously did. "I don't rightly know. Whatever you think is fair, I reckon.”
Trusting too, she thought, amazed at the boy's resilience. All alone. No family. No one to care for him. No proper home. And still he trusted adults to do right by him. Patience eased the ache around her heart by silently promising herself to do just that.
When the Halo Falls, a heavenly romance Page 8
