Tempting a Texan

by Carolyn Davidson

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to look until after we get married,” she said, her voice catching as his hand released the dainty buttons remaining. His index finger touched her skin and she tilted her head down to watch its progress. “Nicholas?”

  “Did either of those men touch you?” he asked gruffly.

  She looked up into eyes that were dark with pain, as if that thought alone was enough to cause him despair. “No. Not that way.”

  “Thank God,” he whispered. “I couldn’t have stood it, for you to be stained by their filth.”

  “Would you have not wanted me, if that had happened?” And before he spoke, she knew the answer he would give.

  “I’ll always want you. I’d just have been sorry for whatever damage they caused. And then I’d have killed them both.”

  She believed him, knew that his sense of justice would not have been satisfied by mere courtroom tactics. Nicholas was a man of honor. He would die to uphold hers, or to keep harm from his own.

  His hand stilled, warm against the skin between her breasts. “I only want to kiss you here,” he said, tacitly asking her consent.

  “Yes.” She breathed the word, heard the faint hissing as she drew it out, then tilted her head back, welcoming the caress of his mouth as he lifted her higher in his arms, his head bending to accomplish his aim.

  His lips were warm as he nuzzled against the soft fullness of her breasts, kissing and suckling the flesh into his mouth, careful not to expose her fully. “I think I’d better stop,” he murmured, looking down at his handiwork.

  “Help me button you together,” he said roughly.

  “I don’t want Katie to see you all undone. She’ll have my scalp if she thinks I’ve taken advantage of you.” He nudged the horse into an easy gait as she glared up at him again.

  “And haven’t you?” she murmured, sounding a bit grumpy to his ears. Embarrassed, most likely, he decided. And he would not have it.

  “Don’t you believe it, love. Now, if you were my mistress, I’d tote you right upstairs when we reach the house, and take you to my bed and then I’d—” He grunted in response to her elbow in his midriff, then laughed aloud. They rode past the edge of town and Nicholas sobered as he thought of his last glimpse of this piece of roadway. They’d been most fortunate, he decided, and he was thankful.

  The gate was before them and he lifted her to the ground. “Stand still,” he ordered, then joined her, clasping her waist in one long arm as he tied his gelding to the gatepost. He lifted her, swinging her up in his arms and carrying her to the porch, up the steps and to the front door.

  “Land sakes,” Katie said, red-faced and puffing as she opened wide the portal. “There was a whole flock of riders went past pretty near fifteen minutes ago, hauling a wagon with a couple of bully-looking fellas in the bed. Was they the ones that took you, Miss? The sheriff dropped Amanda off out in front and I’ve got her in a tub of warm water in the kitchen, scrubbing all the dirt away.”

  “We’re going upstairs,” Nicholas said briskly. “When the doctor comes by, tell him we won’t be needing him. Lin’s going to be fine. She just needs to rest for a while. If you’d like to bring up a pitcher of warm water, that would help, Katie.”

  “But who’s going to tend her?” the housekeeper said, eyes widening as she watched her employer carry his burden up the flight of stairs.

  “I will,” Nicholas answered. “Just leave the water outside the door.”

  “I’m not your mistress, Nicholas,” Lin reminded him. “You’ll leave me at the door of my room.”

  “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong, my dear. You’ll be spending the rest of your life in my bed. You’d might as well begin now.”

  Chapter Nine

  Lin was beyond protesting. It seemed she’d managed to set loose a tiger. By now, after the time she’d spent with him here, the knowledge should have been clear in her mind that he was not what he appeared to be. Nicholas’s suave, gentlemanly appearance was but a facade. Beneath it lay the heart of a man determined on success, no matter what endeavor he set out upon.

  He’d decided to claim her, and there would be no stopping him. Being deposited upon his bed was only the beginning. Nicholas had the bit between his teeth, and if the hard, determined jut of his jaw was anything to go by, she’d might as well hang on for the ride. His touch, though, was tender, his hands careful with her as he placed her upright on the quilted coverlet, settling her against the pillows.

  “Loosen your sleeves,” he said, gruffness tingeing his words, and she looked up quickly into eyes that burned with an intensity she’d found there only last night. They had glittered in the moonlight as he hovered over her on his sofa, halting her protests with the force of his unyielding will. Yet now, his fingers were gentle as he rolled up the full sleeves of her dress, his gaze absorbed as he inspected each inch of exposed skin, from the palms of her hands almost to her shoulders.

  She was silent, eyes half-closed as she watched his movements, aware he sought only to ensure her comfort, that his touch was not that of a man beset by passion. Not for now, at any rate. His nod seemed satisfied as he moved to the foot of the bed, then leaned over to remove her shoes and lift her skirt to her knees. Lacy garters held her stockings, peeking beneath the ruffle of her drawers.

  “Don’t curl your toes,” he said, amusement alive in the look he bent toward her. “I’m only going to take your stockings off, sweet. I’ve already seen the backs of these,” he said, touching the spot just below her left knee.

  “Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel any better,” she murmured, her throat tight with anticipation.

  Her stockings were fine black cotton, and his fingers were nimble, pulling both stockings and garters down the length of her legs, then her feet. “You’ve got a few bruises, Lin, but the skin’s not broken,” he said, lifting one foot to his lap as he settled on the edge of the mattress. The exposure of her undergarments was embarrassment enough without him touching her bare foot, she decided, and she jerked it from his hand.

  “I’m fine, Nicholas.” Her voice wasn’t quite as firm as she’d hoped, but the man was beyond belief. “If you’ll please bring me my dressing gown, I’ll take off these dusty clothes. Your quilt is going to be filthy.”

  He glanced down at the bed and shrugged, dismissing her argument. “I’ll get your dressing gown, if you’ll promise to stay right where you are until I get back.”

  “Yes, all right.” She was impatient with his shenanigans now, knowing he both teased and taunted with the power he held over her. Yet, it was pleasant to be so coddled and tended. She’d had little experience with being waited on during her life, and if Nicholas was intent on pampering her, she’d allow him his way. At least for a while.

  He was gone but a moment, returning with her dressing gown and a fresh nightgown from her drawer. “Put these on,” he said, “then I’ll take a look.”

  “You already have,” she stated firmly, and was granted a look of supreme patience from brilliant blue eyes that promised no quarter.

  “You have three minutes to change into the nightgown,” he told her. He held it aloft, frowning as he inspected the full sleeves and high neckline. Embroidery trimmed the front, and buttons reached almost to the waist. “I don’t like it,” he said. “You deserve something softer and finer.”

  “It cost me eighty-five cents from the Sears and Roebuck catalog,” she told him. “There are almost seven yards of good, sturdy cotton in that gown. It’ll last for years.”

  “Don’t count on it,” he said, handing it to her. “I’ll be finding something else for you to wear, if I have to send to New York City for it.”

  The door closed behind him and she rose from the bed. When Nicholas said three minutes, she had a notion he’d be timing her to the second. She could envision him glaring down at the watch he wore daily. Made of gold, it was attached to a heavy chain that stretched across his vest, beneath his suit coat when he went to the bank every morning. And unless
she missed her guess, that suit would never be the same again, even with Katie’s diligent care.

  Her clothing fell to the floor in a circle around her and she slid into the nightgown, feeling muscles she hadn’t known existed before now. Several tears in the skirt and sleeves of her dress warned her of what she would find, and she moved in front of the mirror, leaving her nightgown unbuttoned as she lowered one sleeve and looked over her shoulder. The gouge was shallow and dried blood edged it. Bruising surrounded it, a deep maroon in color, and she suspected it would be black and blue by evening.

  “Don’t move.” Nicholas voice gave her little warning as he strode through the doorway and she turned, tugging the sleeve back up, wincing as the fabric snagged on the crusted blood.

  “Damn it, Lin, stand still,” he said, his voice a low growl, his hands reaching for her. With a gentleness she wouldn’t have believed he possessed, he moved the cotton fabric from the abrasion and bent to look closer.

  “Now this time, I want you to listen to me,” he told her. If she had not been looking up at him, she’d have thought him angry with her, his words harsh, his jaw firm. But the pain he felt on her behalf was clear in the gaze he shed on her damaged skin.

  “Where else?” he asked roughly, moving her other sleeve down the slope of her shoulder and seeking a closer look.

  “Please, Nicholas. This isn’t…it isn’t proper for you to see me this way.” She bent her head, averting her face from his, wishing she’d had the forethought to ask Katie for her help. Though whether or not Nicholas would have given in to that notion was doubtful.

  “Proper be damned, Lin. You’re hurt, and I’m not going to let anyone else take care of you.” He led her to a comfortable chair near the bed. “Just sit there a minute while I get some salve. I’ll wash that first and then see about a bandage.”

  She sat down, shivering a bit. Whether the chill she felt was from the strain she’d undergone or the fact that Nicholas was bent on stripping her naked, she didn’t know. Both theories held equal merit, she decided. Suddenly too weary to make a fuss, she sank limply against the soft cushion, lowering her forehead to rest against one hand.

  He was gone from the room, and she heard his voice calling to Katie from the top of the staircase. Aching in every conceivable spot, she felt tears rising to the surface, and she fought against the need to lean on Nicholas’s chest and allow them to flow.

  “Why not let me take care of Lin, Mr. Nicholas,” Katie insisted. “She’ll do better with another woman tending her.”

  “I have another task for you, Katie,” Nicholas said tersely. “I’d like you to get Amanda dressed and then take a walk to the parsonage and bring the minister back here. Keep a close eye out, will you? I don’t think there’s any danger to Amanda right now, but I’m not taking any more chances. I want them both watched over closely until this thing is straightened out. With you on hand Amanda’s care doesn’t pose a problem, but the only way to keep Lin close is for me to marry her, here and now.”

  “And then what?” Katie asked smartly. “You don’t get married just to keep a woman safe, sir. There has to be more involved than that, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

  “Trust me,” Nicholas told her bluntly. “There’s much more than that involved. I’m not going to embarrass you by listing my reasons, but if you insist I’ll begin with the most important one.”

  “I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Katie said hastily. “I knew there was something stirrin’ between the two of you from the very beginning. I’m just glad you saw the light, sir. I hated to think she would be leavin’ us.”

  “If she goes anywhere, it’ll be with me beside her.”

  And wasn’t that just dandy? Lin rubbed her forehead, aware of a persistent headache that had only worsened over the past minutes. The man was determined to put a ring on her finger whether she liked the idea or not. Although finding a ring in the middle of a weekday morning in Collins Creek might put a crimp in his plans.

  She shook her head, wincing as the movement produced fresh pain, its site just above her left ear. With her index finger, she explored the area. A lump about the size of a pullet egg met her inquiring touch. She closed her eyes, recalling the initial thump when she’d been tossed over the side of the wagon, unable to protect her head.

  Nicholas moved silently from the doorway, bandages and a metal tin of salve in his hand. A clean cloth and matching towel were slung over his shoulder, and he carried a water pitcher, with steam rising from the top. His movements sure and certain, he rinsed out the basin and poured a measure of warm water into it. And then he stood over her.

  “I want you to drop your gown to your waist, Lin.”

  She looked up quickly, and winced again, aware of the pain behind her eyes in even greater measure. “I want Katie,” she said stubbornly.

  “She’s tending to Amanda, and then they’re going to get the minister from town.”

  “I heard,” she said, her lips pressing firmly together as she defied him. “I can do this myself if you’ll just give me the chance.”

  “Lin.” He sighed, then squatted in front of her, taking her hands in his and kissing the backs in a gesture that spoke of his affection and concern. As if he’d made up his mind and there would be no turning back, he held them immobile in one broad palm, then lifted his other hand, touching her chin with a brush of his knuckles.

  “That man is going to be here before you know it, and I’d like to have you sufficiently covered before he arrives. Please don’t cause a fuss, sweetheart.”

  “Wait, let me get you the quilt,” he said, rising and snatching up the covering. He handed it to her and turned his back. “Now. Slip your gown down and hold the quilt in front of you. I promise not to look. I only want to wash your bruises and put salve on them. Please.”

  She lowered the gown to her waist and covered herself with the quilt, holding it against her breasts with both hands.

  As if he sensed her cooperation, he turned, casting a quick glance, then faced her fully, satisfaction clear as he nodded his head. “I’m going to wash your back. You’ve got several places where it looks like you scraped across the wood and they need to be cleaned.”

  She closed her eyes and endured. There was little pain, for his hands were skilled and the measured touch of his fingers as they smoothed the pungent salve over four different places above her waist, and then applied soft cloth with plaster holding it in place, told her he was competent at the task. It was the knowledge that Nicholas was looking at her body, that his hands were tracing the line of her spine and smoothing her skin beneath his fingertips that set her stomach churning.

  “I’m going to pull your gown back up,” he said after several long minutes had passed. “I want you to look at your legs above your knees, Lin. If you’ve got this sort of damage there, I want you to wash the skin well and apply the salve. You can tend to the front, and if necessary, I’ll do the back. All right?”

  “Yes, fine,” she whispered, thankful for the fullness of her gown as she buttoned the placket. He held her dressing gown open and she slid her arms into the sleeves, then wrapped it around her waist and tied it.

  “I’ll change the water and you can wash your face with a clean cloth.” He turned his back again and rinsed out the cloth for her, then busied himself while she stroked the warm, damp fabric over her face and neck. Carrying the basin to her, he placed it on her lap and watched as she washed her hands thoroughly.

  “We’ll leave you in your dressing gown,” he decided. “For right now, I want you beneath a quilt until you stop shivering.” He leaned to look directly into her eyes, and his hand tilted her chin as he inspected them. “Is your vision blurry?”

  “No, but I have a headache. There’s a lump above my left ear,” she told him. “My head hit the wagon bed when they dumped me in.” She watched his mouth tighten as she spoke and he held her head, tilting it a bit, cupping it within one hand while he examined the sore spot. She felt his fingers par
ting the strands of hair that covered the bump, and heard the muttered expletive he uttered beneath his breath.

  “All the more reason to stay in bed for the rest of the day,” he told her, releasing her from his hands. She felt, for a moment, bereft by the absence of his touch, aware that she craved the warmth of his hands and mouth and the solid feel of his body. As if he were a bulwark behind which she could rest, unafraid, she yearned to be held once more in his embrace. Instead, she cleared her throat and asked the most mundane of queries.

  “Don’t you have to go to the bank?”

  “I don’t have to do anything but take care of you and Amanda,” he said firmly. “And at this moment, you’re the one needing me. Katie is looking after Amanda, and half the folks in town will be making a fuss over her. She’s safe for now.”

  “All right.” She blinked and focused on him. He was changed, she decided. No longer the man she’d met on the day of her arrival here, Nicholas had undergone a transformation. From a man who found it simple to be cynical, who was unwilling to allow his emotions to blossom into anything resembling love, he’d managed to assume the responsibility for herself and the child he’d been presented with.

  Gone forever, it seemed, was the distance he had imposed between himself and the niece he’d accepted. With no reservations he was prepared to do whatever it took to accomplish their safety. And because of that, it was easier to give in to his maneuvering, she decided, than it was to argue, and by far the more enjoyable option. “I think I need to lie down,” she said, her mind weary from the thoughts that had circled and finally settled to rest, allowing her peace.

  “I agree.” Lifting her from the chair, he made short work of placing her between the sheets, then pulled the quilt high on her chest, tucking her arms beneath the covering. “You’re going to be married from this very spot,” he whispered, sitting beside her, one hand on her forehead as he leaned close. He turned her head with a gentle movement and eased her hairpins from the bun at the nape of her neck.