by Connie Mason
“Is my wife in her room?” Pierce asked.
“She hasn’t left as far as I know.”
Pierce took the stairs to the second floor two at a time. He stopped abruptly before Room 210. His hand was shaking when he raised it to rap sharply on the door.
Zoey found waiting intolerable. Her imagination worked overtime, picturing Pierce lying dead somewhere on a deserted road. She didn’t know how she’d survive if Marshal Kinder had been too late to save him. The waiting was driving her crazy. It wasn’t in her nature to do nothing while danger stalked a loved one. If the marshal couldn’t find Pierce, maybe she could. Having convinced herself she had to leave, she began gathering up her clothing.
A loud rapping at the door jerked Zoey to attention. Her heart jumped into her throat; a pulse pounded in her temple. The marshal had returned! Fear at what he might tell her kept her frozen to the spot, unable to move or to reply. Her hands spread across her stomach, offering mute comfort to the child inside her, a child who might never know his father.
“Zoey,” Pierce called softly through the door. “Let me in, love.”
At the sound of Pierce’s voice, Zoey’s world tumbled back into its orbit She gave a shriek of joy and stumbled to the door. Her hands were shaking so badly she fumbled with the key in the lock before it turned. Flinging the door open, she flew into Pierce’s arms.
Pierce dropped his saddlebags and caught her against him, his arms closing around her fiercely. Whispering his name over and over, she kissed his mouth, his cheeks, his nose, the wedge of flesh showing through the vee of his shirt. Pierce hoisted her off her feet and walked into the room, slamming the door shut with his booted foot.
“Sweetheart, I’m all right.” Pierce laughed as she continued to touch him. “Marshal Kinder told me what you did. I always knew you were resourceful, as well as smart and beautiful, I just didn’t know how resourceful. I can’t wait to hear how you got away from Willoughby. I didn’t stick around for an explanation. I wanted to get back to you as quickly as possible.”
“I was so afraid for you,” Zoey sighed against his neck.
“No more afraid than I was for you. Those four days in jail were pure torture. My imagination worked overtime, visualizing all the horrors Willoughby put you through.”
Zoey placed a finger against his lips. “Don’t talk, just kiss me. God, I need you. I feared I’d never see you again.”
She began pulling at his clothes, working his shirt out of his pants, her fingers fumbling with the buttons.
“Zoey. God, love, I want you, too, but I’m not fit to touch you. I’ve been on the road for days.”
His words had little impact on Zoey. She had finally gotten his shirt unbuttoned and pulled both his vest and shirt down his arms. She groaned with impatience as she tugged at the waistband of his trousers.
Her need set him afire, sending hot blood spurting through his veins. Soon his own need was as fierce as hers as he began tearing off Zoey’s clothing. Half-undressed, they staggered to the bed and tumbled upon it in a tangle of arms and legs.
“Lift your hips,” Pierce gasped as he peeled Zoey’s denims down her legs. In a fever of impatience, he pulled off her boots so he could get her pants and drawers all the way off.
The moment her legs were free, they came around his waist, binding him to her.
“Zoey, let me get my pants off.”
“Later. Please, Pierce.”
Pierce tugged at the placket holding his pants together and the buttons went flying, releasing his swollen sex. Zoey felt the hardened tip nudge the moist portals of her passage and moaned her urgency against his mouth. She grasped his hips, bringing him against her as she lifted her hips in flagrant invitation.
“Are you sure you’re ready, love?” Pierce whispered. He was more than ready. He was hot, hard, heavy, and primed to burst.
His hand came between them, his fingers delving into her soft folds. Her heat was yielding and sweet beneath his strong fingers. She was wet and eager, and he exhaled raggedly. Flexing his hips, he thrust home, burying himself to the hilt. Zoey screamed, her body rigid as she rose up to meet him.
Pierce froze. “Are you all right?”
“More than all right. Don’t stop, love. Don’t ever stop.”
“As if I could,” Pierce groaned. He felt her pulsate around him, and he ground his teeth together to keep from spilling immediately. “You’re so tight, love. Your heat is scorching me. I think I’m dying. I could ask for no sweeter heaven.”
His hips jerked in and out, sending Zoey higher and higher as she thrashed her head from side to side and writhed beneath him. This was her man, hers to love forever and ever.
“I need to kiss you, love,” Pierce said. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he cupped her head in his hands and stroked the seam of her lips with his tongue, then slipped it between her teeth, into the sweet warm recesses of her mouth.
Zoey felt the weight of him against her, the shape and hardness of him inside her, and felt contractions begin deep within that place where they were joined. Wave after wave of raw feeling traveled over her body, gathering strength, creating a violent force within her.
Pierce felt her climax begin, felt her tightness close around him, and he set his teeth against the excruciatingly pleasurable contractions that pulsed around his sex. Freeing her mouth, he closed his lips upon the hardened tip of her breast, drawing upon her nipple as she shattered. He forced himself to wait until her bliss was at its peak before taking his own pleasure. His groin was heavy and aching as he thrust and retreated, pumping his hips against hers until his seed burst forth in a heady rush of nearly unbearable ecstasy.
“It shouldn’t have been like that,” Pierce said after he rolled off Zoey and brought his breathing under control. “It should have been slow and easy. I wanted to arouse you slowly, to draw out your pleasure until you begged for release. Damn, you didn’t even give me time to get my pants off.” He grinned, recalling her eagerness to have him. He hoped she never changed.
“Stop grinning,” Zoey said, cuddling into the curve of his body. “I needed you, Pierce. I wanted it hard and fast. It won’t always be like that, but seeing you alive … I don’t know, it was like I had to have you in that way to convince myself you were alive and well.”
“God, I’m exhausted,” Pierce said. “I want to love you again, but I don’t know if I’d do either of us any good without proper rest.”
When Zoey failed to answer, he looked down and saw that she had already fallen asleep. He pulled a cover over them and closed his eyes. Sleep came instantly.
Three hours later, gnawing hunger pangs awakened him. Zoey was still sleeping, so he eased himself from bed and checked the pitcher for water. It was full. He stripped off his remaining clothing and washed the trail dust from his body. Then he cautiously opened the door, found his saddlebags he had dropped there earlier, and dragged them into the room. Digging into the pockets, he found his shaving gear and shaved himself before the cracked mirror.
“I love the way your muscles move beneath your skin,” Zoey said in a sultry voice. She’d been watching him from beneath lowered lids for the better part of thirty minutes.
Pierce turned and gave her a slow grin. “And I love the way your skin feels against mine.”
She held out her arms and he went to her, stripping away the remnants of her clothing before bringing her against him. “Do you want to tell me about your ordeal with Willoughby?”
Zoey stirred restlessly. “Must I?”
“I need to know, for my own peace of mind. Tell me, love. What did the bastard do to you?”
“He drugged me with laudanum. I don’t recall much about the trip from Butte to Rolling Prairie. I woke up in my own bed. I did remember, though, that Willoughby had let slip he had ordered my father killed, and I confronted him about it. He didn’t deny it.”
Pierce went still. “He killed your father? Why?”
“For many reasons. Me, the land; who knows how the
mind a man like Willoughby works? He couldn’t afford to let me escape, so he placed a guard at my door. He told the townspeople I was seriously ill and bribed the doctor to confirm his diagnosis. I’m sure Willoughby intended to kill me. Just like he killed my father.”
“Did he say he was going to kill you?”
“He said he didn’t know what to do with me.”
“I thought your father was killed by Indians.”
“That’s what Willoughby wanted people to think. He must have paid his men to kill Pa and make it look like Indians did it. Look what he did to Cully. The man is a fiend.”
“Marshal Kinder will see that justice is done. Three of Willoughby’s men were in his custody. Kinder reached me in the nick of time. You saved my life, love, again. How in the hell did you get away from the Circle F and Willoughby?”
Zoey grinned. “It was quite simple, really. Once I gained my wits, I began making plans.” She proceeded to tell him how she used Willoughby’s own laudanum to escape his men.
“Laudanum? You drugged Willoughby’s men?” Pierce laughed and kissed her soundly. “What a wicked little minx you are. It’s no more than I would have expected from you. I reckon I’m going to have to mind my manners around you. You’re a dangerous woman. Seriously, love, I was so damned worried about you, I thought I’d lose my mind. Living without you in my life frightened the hell out of me.”
“You’ll never have to worry about losing me. We’re going to grow old together.”
“Promise?”
“On my honor.” She reached for him, her hands hot upon his body. She placed tender little kisses upon his chest as her hands and mouth roamed over his body.
When her fingers curled around his manhood, he hardened instantly, pushing himself against her palm. “Unless that’s an invitation, you’d be wise to stop.”
Zoey continued to stroke him, her eyes glowing darkly. “I’ll stop if you want me to.”
“God, no! I want to love you properly this time.”
Suddenly Pierce’s stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten in nearly twenty-four hours. He grasped her hand, pulling it away from his body. “Are you sure you don’t want to go down to the dining room for something to eat first?”
Zoey considered his suggestion. “Leave it to my practical husband to suggest food at a time like this. Actually, food does sound pretty good. And …” she said, smiling mysteriously, “there is something I need to tell you. Something I hope will please you.”
“Everything about you pleases me. You can tell me your news over lunch.”
Zoey gave him an exasperated look. She couldn’t put this off a moment longer. “No, I want to tell you now.” Inhaling sharply, she blurted out, “I’m going to have a baby.”
“Fine. Now can we—You’re what?” His heart slammed against his chest. “Say that again … slowly.”
“You’re going to be a father, Pierce. I’m having your child.”
Pierce went still. “How long have you known?”
“A while.”
“Did you know when you left me in Dry Gulch? When Willoughby forced you to marry him? When he took you to Butte? When he drugged you? When you escaped and rode through the night to fetch the marshal?”
Zoey nodded yes to all counts.
“Son of a bitch! I’m going to kill Willoughby with my bare hands! What about our child? Is he … is she … all right?”
Zoey’s hands spanned her stomach. “He’s still here, Pierce.”
“When?”
“In six months. I’m well into my third month.”
A shudder went through Pierce as he dropped heavily upon the bed, his empty stomach all but forgotten. “Why didn’t you tell me? Dammit, Zoey, what if I had signed those divorce papers? Were you intending to tell Willoughby the baby was his and let him raise my child?”
“I didn’t want to mess up your life. I wanted you to want me for my sake, not for the child I carried. As for Willoughby, it was never my intention to remain in that marriage or be a wife to him. After Cully was free I was going to tell Willoughby about the baby and offer him the ranch in exchange for my freedom. If that didn’t work, I would have thought of something. I’d rather have died than let him touch me.”
Pierce leapt to his feet, grasped her shoulders, and brought her hard against him. “I nearly lost you. I might never have known you were expecting my child.”
“You’re angry.”
“Damn right I’m angry.”
She caressed the freshly shaven planes of his face, her eyes misty with tears. “Everything turned out for us, love. I’m fine, the baby is thriving, and you’re alive.”
“Dammit!” Pierce shouted roughly. He didn’t mean to sound gruff, but he suddenly realized how close he’d come to losing Zoey and their child. He could have signed the divorce papers, or Willoughby could have hurt Zoey.
“I’m sorry, Pierce, I should have told you. I just didn’t want to cause you any more anguish than I already have. I disrupted your life once, and I wanted to leave you in peace. My problems were no longer your concern.”
Pierce’s jaw tightened. He had to think, to come to grips with what could have been a disastrous loss. “I need to be alone. Meet me in the dining room in half an hour.”
Pierce had to get out of there quickly, before he broke down like a blubbering fool. Of course he was angry that he hadn’t known about Zoey’s pregnancy, but it went far deeper than simple anger. He was humbled and deeply moved by Zoey’s sacrifice on his behalf. She’d risked life and limb to save him despite her delicate condition. She’d suffered humiliation and degradation. A man could ask for no greater love. He vowed never to take that love for granted.
Stunned and gravely upset, Zoey watched Pierce dress and stumble from the room. Had she ruined everything by not telling him she was carrying his child? Pierce had seemed angry, but Zoey recognized a far deeper emotion. He appeared to be holding something inside, something extremely distressing. She could have sworn she’d seen moisture gathering in the corners of his eyes, and couldn’t imagine what she’d said to produce it.
Her mind in a turmoil, Zoey washed and dressed and went downstairs to meet Pierce. She found him seated at a table in the far corner of the dining room. He looked up and grinned at her despite his somber mood. She was wearing those intriguing denim pants, causing a stir in the dining room.
He watched her walk toward him, suddenly glad that he’d had a moment alone to gain control of his emotions. Learning that he was to become a father and then realizing how close he’d come to losing his precious wife and unborn babe had nearly unmanned him. If he hadn’t left when he did, he’d have broken down like a bawling baby. Men didn’t cry. Unfortunately he was becoming inept at hiding his emotions since meeting Zoey. He’d tried to hide behind anger, but stronger emotions kept pushing the anger aside.
“Sit down, love,” Pierce said, pulling out her chair. “I’ve ordered a substantial lunch for both of us.”
“Pierce, I’m sorry if I—”
“No, don’t talk. Let’s have our meal first. We have plenty of time before the marshal returns to air our thoughts. I meant for this time alone to be the honeymoon we never had.”
“But if you’re angry with me …”
Their meal came then, relieving Pierce of the need to express his feelings. They ate in silence. Pierce was ravenous, doing justice to his meal. Zoey pushed her food around on the plate, too upset to feel real hunger.
“We’re sitting here until you finish every morsel on your plate,” Pierce admonished. “I aim to make sure you take good care of yourself from now on. Your days of flirting with danger are over.”
Zoey remained mute as she concentrated on her food. Everything Pierce ordered was delicious and she should have been hungry, but she couldn’t help worrying. If only she knew what he was thinking. His eyes rested on her warmly, but they were dark with some inner emotion she couldn’t interpret. When she indicated she could eat no more, Pierce e
scorted her back to their room.
Once in their room, Zoey rounded on him. “Very well, Pierce, spit it out. Tell me what you’re feeling. I know you’re angry because I didn’t tell you about the baby, but the important thing is that we love each other, and our baby continues to thrive. Are you going to forgive me?”
Pierce sat on the bed and pulled Zoey onto his lap. “Forgive you? You still don’t understand, do you, love? Anger isn’t what I’m feeling at the present time. It’s terror. I keep imagining your panic when you were held within Willoughby’s power. You were alone, pregnant and helpless, with no one to turn to. You thought I had abandoned you. Forgive you? No, love, it’s myself I have to forgive, and I’m finding that exceedingly difficult. I was too damn stubborn to come after you when you left, even though I didn’t want you to go.”
“You must be disappointed in me for agreeing to marry Willoughby when I knew I was pregnant with your child.”
“I could never be disappointed in you. You did what you thought necessary to save Cully’s life. You were pregnant, alone, and still acted with courage and resourcefulness. I’m humbled by your love. I’ll never be worthy of it should I live to be one hundred. All I can do is try to be the best damn husband and father in the entire territory.”
“If you weren’t angry, why did you leave our room so abruptly?” Zoey persisted.
“I’m a man, love, and men are supposed to be strong. For the first time in my life I felt close to”—he cleared his throat—“breaking down. I can’t recall the last time I cried, but if I hadn’t left the room when I did, I would have been humiliated by my tears.”
Zoey regarded Pierce solemnly. Pierce cry? Impossible. Then she smiled radiantly. “You love me that much?”
“That much and more.” His hand settled on her stomach. “Learning I’m to be a father overwhelms me. I never intended to marry again after my first disastrous attempt at it, so I never considered fatherhood. Suddenly the notion of having a son or daughter is exciting. If our coming together hadn’t been so fast and furious earlier, I might have noticed the differences in your body.”
