Wyoming True

by Diana Palmer

She smiled back and tucked her face under his chin. “You smell nice,” she murmured as he carried her back to her bedroom.

  “So do you, angel.” He put her gently down onto the cover. “Maude left us cold cuts for later. I’m so full of cake I could barely drink coffee, but I’ll make some if you’ll drink it with me,” he added.

  “I’d love some,” she said.

  Wolf came in the door, panting a little because the heat had been turned up. Butler trotted along behind him and bounced up onto the bed to butt his head against Ida. She petted him absently and then smoothed her hand over Wolf’s head. “Thanks for letting Butler sleep inside,” she murmured.

  “He’s a member of the family, just like Wolf. Wolf lives inside, too, you know,” he added. His eyes went over her slowly, like caressing fingers. “You were the most beautiful bride. I suppose the photographers got enough shots to last them for a month. One even said he’d thought about luring you out of the church with chocolates and flying you off to someplace exotic before the ceremony.”

  She flushed and laughed. “My goodness.” She sighed. “I didn’t realize there would be so many reporters there,” she added. Her blue eyes twinkled. “But I noticed that they didn’t even get as far as the fellowship hall, thanks to our sheriff.”

  “Cody had his deputies make a cordon around the church,” he confessed, chuckling. “Nobody got through it.”

  “That was nice.” She cocked her head and smiled up at him. “Coffee?”

  “Coming right up. Maybe we should change first.” His eyes swept over the wedding gown. “I’ve never seen a dress that pretty. It would be an heirloom...” He stopped short, turned and walked out the door.

  Ida knew what he was thinking. The gown should be handed down, to a loved daughter. But their marriage wasn’t like that. There would be no children. She fought tears as she changed from her finery into jeans and a pink pullover sweater.

  She went into the kitchen and sat down at the table, wincing a little. She’d been on her feet for a long time.

  “Hip hurting?” he asked, not missing a thing.

  “Just a few twinges,” she said and smiled to stop him from worrying.

  He poured freshly perked coffee into two mugs and sat down at the table with her. “It’s been a long day,” he mused.

  She nodded, blowing on her coffee before she tried a sip. Too hot. She put the mug back down. “But a nice one.”

  “We’ll have a honeymoon later on,” he promised. “Anywhere you want to go.”

  “Decisions, decisions,” she teased.

  “Today, though, you rest. I’ve got some phone calls to make and I need to check on the livestock. Especially your horses.”

  He’d brought the horses back from Ren Colter’s ranch a few days earlier, and he had two men, armed men, watching them.

  “Bailey won’t try anything, will he?” she worried. “He hasn’t called me since his thug ran for the hills.”

  “We can hope. But if he does, I’ll handle it,” he said firmly. “You’re safe here.”

  She smiled. Her heart was running wild as she looked at him. “I know that, Jake.”

  He finished his coffee. “I’d better get to work,” he said. He didn’t want to leave her, but he was having some issues. She was beautiful and every day his passion for her grew. He couldn’t afford to let the aching need get loose. She needed patience. Lots of patience. He smiled and left her at the table.

  * * *

  FOR SEVERAL DAYS he worked himself half to death on the ranch, doing jobs he could easily have delegated. Ida was beautiful. She worried about him, and that hurt, too. He’d been so cold to her at the beginning. He’d said things he wished he could take back. She made him hungry, and the ache just grew by the day. He didn’t know how to handle it. He was backing away and he could see the wounded look on her face when he did. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t let himself get close. If he lost control, he’d do even more damage to her than her idiot ex-husband had.

  Bailey hadn’t been in touch, but late one evening when Jake was in his office making business calls, Ida’s phone rang.

  She answered it without thinking.

  “Think you’re safe, don’t you, Mrs. McGuire?” Bailey’s angry voice chided in her ear. “I’ve got plans for you. Big plans. You’d better change your mind about that money. If you want to live, that is.”

  He hung up. She was shivering with fear. Bailey had that effect on her. She wanted to run and tell Jake, but what good would it do? They already had protection all around the ranch. Jake was doing everything he could to keep her safe.

  She kept her fears to herself and dressed for bed, in a pale yellow silk gown with lace appliqués and spaghetti straps. She looked fragile and beautiful in it. But of course, she reminded herself, nobody would see it but herself.

  She slept. She was running again, from Bailey, sobbing and terrified. He was chasing her again, but this time with a gun. She ran toward safety, toward Jake, who was standing in the distance with his arms open, calling to her. She ran and ran, and then she heard the gunshot. But it wasn’t for her. It hit Jake. He doubled over and fell, and she screamed and screamed...

  “Wake up!”

  She felt herself held close to comforting strength as her eyes flew open. She looked up at Jake. He was wearing just pajama bottoms. His hair was mussed. He looked very sexy. She was coming out of the terror, her mind still almost in limbo.

  “He shot you!” she choked, her eyes on his face. “He shot you! He was chasing me. It should have been me!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed close, clinging with all her might. “I thought he’d killed you! I’d have died, too. I’d have died if I lost you!”

  His heart ran wild. She...cared. He hadn’t realized it before. His arms contracted hungrily and his mouth slid down to her soft throat. His big hands smoothed up and down her back against the warm silk. He could feel her breasts pressed hard against his chest, feel their hard tips as she strained even closer.

  “Ida,” he choked, trying to pull away.

  “Jake,” she whispered, shivering a little. “Jake...would you...touch me?”

  His breath caught in his throat as she turned just a little and arched toward him, her eyes misty with hunger, her full lips parted.

  “Where?” he asked huskily.

  She caught his fingers and drew them very slowly to her breasts. It was like part of the nightmare but turning into the sweetest dream she’d ever had. Half-awake, she had no fear of him at all.

  She arched as his hand slid under the strap of the gown, against soft, hot skin that felt like silk.

  “Oh, God,” he whispered reverently, because he knew he didn’t want to stop. He did try. “Ida...” he began, trying to lift away.

  “Please don’t go,” she whispered and reached up to kiss him.

  As if he could, after that! He followed her down onto the bed. And despite the fact that it had been months since he’d been with a woman, he was slow and patient and tender.

  He eased her out of the gown, his lips following its path down her trembling body. He kissed his way back up again, his hand making magic on her inner thighs as it suddenly found her in a way she’d never been touched.

  She gasped, embarrassed, because all the lights were on.

  He only smiled. “This is part of it,” he whispered. “I won’t hurt you.”

  She shivered. “It feels...good,” she choked, surprised, lost in his silver eyes, the only things alive in that hard, set face.

  “It’s supposed to feel good.” His mouth slid down to her bare breast and took one inside his mouth to tease the nipple with his tongue as he began to suckle her.

  The reaction he got was surprising. She lifted right off the bed, arching up to his mouth, and the strangest little cry shot out of her throat.

  “You like that,�
� he whispered and did it again.

  She went from plateau to plateau, no longer worried about whether or not he’d hurt her, because she’d never dreamed that lovemaking could be so sweet. She ached for him, burned for him, followed his whispered commands hungrily and then, suddenly, felt him inside her body, all the way inside, as he moved onto her, one long, hair-feathered leg inserting itself between both of hers.

  “Look at me,” he whispered unsteadily.

  She met his eyes, her own wild with hunger, faintly embarrassed, as the pleasure built to insane levels. “Jake!” she cried out, surprised at the fever he’d kindled in her, blazing with pleasure that she thought might kill her. She whispered that to him, her eyes locked with his as they went into the fire together.

  She felt one lean hand under her hips as his mouth covered hers in the last few seconds before they shuddered and shuddered, perfectly attuned as passion bit into them so deeply that they both cried out.

  Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she was clinging to him, not trying to get away. She kissed his hot, damp throat, her nails biting into his broad shoulders as she moved helplessly under him, unable to stop as little jolts of pleasure went on and on, echoing the satisfaction he’d given her.

  “I didn’t...know,” she whispered shakily.

  His chest rose and fell over her damp breasts. “I didn’t know, either,” he whispered, kissing her tenderly. “Never like that, Ida. Never in my life, with anyone.”

  Her arms contracted. She loved him so much. More than anything, anyone. She wanted to tell him, but he hadn’t spoken of love. It might wound him, if he didn’t feel the same way. So she kept her silence, savoring a closeness she’d never experienced.

  Finally, he rolled away, breathing heavily, sweat beaded on the thick hair that covered the hard muscles of his chest.

  Ida sat up, no longer embarrassed about her nudity, and looked at him boldly. There were more scars, some on his upper, muscular thighs. She only smiled. “Marks of honor,” she whispered.

  He smiled, surprised at the comment. She didn’t seem to mind the scars at all. He brought her down to him and turned her, so that he could see the scars on her hip, where the surgery had been performed.

  “It’s ugly,” she said.

  “It’s not,” he replied. He pulled her close and curved her into his body. “I don’t want a platonic marriage.”

  “Neither do I,” she whispered. She moved even closer. “Jake...”

  “What?” he asked, his big hand smoothing over her hair.

  “I want a baby,” she whispered unsteadily.

  His arms contracted suddenly as the words washed over him like fire. “So do I,” he said, his voice deep and rough with hunger. The words kindled a sudden, unexpected reaction in his body.

  She felt it with wonder. She rolled onto her back and looked up at him. She moved sinuously, her hips arching, as if he’d asked a question and she was answering it, without words.

  He moved onto her, his silver eyes holding hers as he roused her all over again. It was the most poignant few minutes of his life, even more intense than their first intimacy, because he was thinking about a child, and so was she.

  At last, he cried out from the pleasure, biting into him like nails. She sobbed, her own body contorted with the force of sensual fulfillment. They clung to each other in the aftermath, comforting each other.

  “In all my life,” he said at her ear, “I’ve never tried to make a woman pregnant.”

  She laughed softly. “Until just now.”

  He lifted his head and looked into her soft, drowning blue eyes. “Until just now.” He smiled.

  She reached up and drew her fingers over his handsome face. “I was afraid, just at first.”

  “But not anymore?” he asked tenderly.

  “Never anymore,” she replied solemnly. “I...” She hesitated and tried again. “Jake, I...”

  But before she could get the words out, the phone rang noisily, the base phone in the living room.

  “Oh, damn,” he muttered. “I cut off my cell phone...”

  He got up, slid on his pajama bottoms and, with a gentle smile, went to see who was on the other end of the line.

  Ida, content as a cat after a saucer of cream, stretched and reluctantly got back into her yellow gown. She’d never dreamed that she could feel passion after Bailey. But Jake had been everything she’d ever dreamed of, tender and patient. She was aware that he’d been a long time without a woman, but she hoped that his reaction to her wasn’t just that.

  He said that he wanted a baby, too. She sighed and closed her eyes, imagining a baby in her arms and Jake at her side, looking down at her with loving eyes. Well, affectionate eyes, she amended silently. He might never love her, but he wanted her. That would have to do for now. Perhaps if she worked at it, very hard, he might come to love her back one day.

  He paused at the bedroom doorway, his chiseled mouth pulled to one side. “A deal’s about to go awry because the prospective partner has decided that he only wants to do business face-to-face.”

  She sat up, her blue eyes curious. “Where is he?”

  He made a face. “Texas.”

  Her heart jumped. It was a long way away. Her face reflected the sadness she felt.

  He sat down beside her, his hand smoothing back her disheveled black hair. “I don’t want to go,” he confessed. “But I’ll have to.”

  She almost asked to go with him, but there was something odd in his expression, something that hinted of confused emotions and doubts. She didn’t dare push.

  “Okay,” she said softly. Her blue eyes twinkled. “Make sure your pilot is sober,” she said in a stage whisper.

  He burst out laughing. It was the last reaction he’d expected. They were newlyweds. She might have felt justified in resentment, because he hadn’t asked her to go with him. But he was uneasy about their suddenly changed relationship and he needed to step back and take a good look at things.

  “I won’t be gone longer than a few days,” he said.

  “That’s okay,” she replied. “I’ll get out my clay and my tools and make exotic statues or something.”

  “Erotic?” His deep voice was amused.

  She stared at him and almost saw the wicked thoughts in his mind. “Models of birds and lizards,” she exclaimed and actually flushed. “Exotic wildlife! Not...that!”

  He was laughing. She loved the way his silver eyes glittered with humor as he looked down at her.

  “You are a bad man,” she said curtly.

  He leaned down and kissed her, but on the forehead. “Yes, I am, from time to time,” he confessed. He sighed. “Ah, well, so much for my hopes of having something from the Kama Sutra to put in my office.”

  The flush got much, much deeper. He studied it with true fascination. Two marriages behind her, and she was still, in some ways, quite innocent. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.

  “Well, I’ll drag out my pilot and be off. Maude will be here in the morning.” He frowned. “Will you be all right, alone, tonight?”

  “Of course,” she replied. “The house is wired like a bomb and there are full-time cowboys who live just down the road. I have my phone, and if I call 911, Cody Banks will have somebody out here like a shot. Don’t worry,” she added, confused and pleased that he was concerned about her.

  He smoothed her hair again. He scowled. He was worried. He hadn’t realized how much. Her crazy ex-husband was gunning for her, and she could be in danger.

  “I’ll be all right,” she emphasized. “Honest.”

  He sighed as he got to his feet. “I’ll phone you every night.”

  “I’ll keep my cell phone with me. But if I’m sculpting, you’ll have to be patient. I can’t answer the phone with clay all over my fingers,” she added impishly.

  He pursed his lips and his silver
eyes twinkled. “Why don’t you do a bust of me?” he asked. “Immortalize me in baked clay.”

  She laughed. “I don’t do people well,” she replied. “Animals, yes, even flowers. But not people. We all have our strengths and weaknesses.”

  “So we do.” He looked down at her and thought without wanting to that she was rapidly becoming one of his own weaknesses. Ridiculous, of course. He was fond of her. He wouldn’t mind having a child with her. She was beautiful. A little girl, he was thinking, with that same black hair and light blue or silver eyes...

  “I’d better get dressed,” he said, bringing him back to cold reality.

  She watched him go, confused. He’d looked at her as if he resented her. Perhaps he did. If he was still besotted with Mina Michaels Grier, then it was understandable. He wanted a child, but he’d wanted that with Mina. Was he only making do with second best? It was a worry that would haunt her.

  * * *

  SHE GOT UP and dressed, too, so that she could see him off. They paused in the doorway. Fred sat outside at the wheel of the limousine, waiting, looking all around and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

  “He always looks like he’s waiting for the police,” Ida whispered to Jake and laughed softly.

  He laughed with her. “I checked him out,” he replied. “He’s clean. Maybe he has dreams of being a wheelman for a robbery ring, though.”

  “He drives like he’d be a good one.” She looked up at him, trying to hide her sadness. “You’ll phone when you get there? So I know you made it okay?”

  His heart jumped. “I will. You take care of yourself. Don’t overdo.”

  She smiled gently. “Of course not. You be careful, too.”

  He sighed. “This isn’t working out the way I expected,” he said nebulously. He bent, and for a few seconds, she thought he was going to kiss her. He did, but on the cheek.

  “I’ll see you in a few days,” he said in a stilted tone and walked out to the car. He didn’t look back. Not once.

  * * *

  IDA DID BREAK out her clay and start sculpting. Maude hesitated at the door to the guest room she’d taken over for her art. There was a tarp on the floor under the table Ida used, because sculpting with clay involved water and wet cloths, and there was a pristine carpet under the tarp. She knew that Jake could afford to replace the carpet, but it seemed wiser not to put it at risk in the first place.