As it was, he set her apart from himself and shot a warning glare in her direction. “You’re messing with a man who’s about as randy as—” He halted and his eyes sought her mouth and then swept to where her breasts filled the bodice of her dress.
“Don’t touch me, Lin. I’m about that close—” He held up two fingers with barely space between.
“All right,” she said, smothering the satisfaction that would have brought a smile to her lips. Recognition of her power over him filled her with a new, gratifying pleasure. She’d never before known the sensation of being the focus of a man’s desire, and though it carried with it the natural fear of virginity about to be breached by a man’s most potent need, she held the sensation close. Even the nagging notion of pain Irene had once warned her of could not subdue her anticipation of the moment when Nicholas would truly make her his bride.
“Can I just lean on you?” she asked, the query spoken meekly.
He cast her a look of suspicion. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” At her quick glance, taking in the sparkle she could not hide in the depths of brown eyes, he frowned.
“Do you know what you’re doing, sweet?” he asked. He’d already decided the woman was a temptress.
He could bide his time. Patience was a virtue he’d learned years ago. Especially when the prize was as warm and welcoming as Lin’s arms promised to be. The anticipation would only grow, and though his desire provided him with a degree of discomfort, he set it aside, turning his mind to the job at hand.
He could wait. Tomorrow evening would find them safe and secure, behind locked and barred doors if he knew anything about Cleary’s foresight. The sheriff had assured him of a safe house, and Cleary was a man to be trusted.
There would be time spent testing the security of their haven, gauging the strength of doors and shutters, and carrying in their provisions. Certainly there would be enough to do to keep them all busy for hours. Lin surely knew the basics of settling in, of lighting a cooking fire and preparing food. They’d be ready for bed before nightfall, in case there was a dearth of lanterns.
He smiled in satisfaction. Lanterns be hanged. There would be no need of staying up late. Amanda would be tired and Lin ready for a good night’s sleep. But first…
His heart sped up, the cadence rapid as he anticipated the moment when he would seek out his bride and make her his wife.
She’d worn herself to a frazzle, what with learning how to build a fire in the black monster Nicholas called a cook-stove, then sweeping with the poor excuse for a broom she’d found in the cobweb-laden pantry. Katie had sent soap and a bucket of rags, deeming them worthy of a space on the wagon, and Lin was fervently grateful at the sight of the equipment she would require to turn the kitchen into a place fit for the cooking and eating of food.
Her knees ached from crawling over the wide boards of the floor, scrub rag in one hand, brush in the other, tackling the accumulation of dirt and unexplained small piles of leavings she shuddered at. Her hair was clinging to temples and neck alike, curling and damp with perspiration, and she felt in desperate need of a bath.
Smack in the middle of the room, a wooden table sat with three chairs surrounding it, a wide bench against one wall obviously meant to provide additional seating. A kitchen cabinet stood with doors askew, one leg shorter than the other three, causing it to lean precariously toward the pantry. Lin found a block of wood that brought the piece of furniture almost to a level stance. By dint of much lifting and dark muttering, she had managed to fit it into place.
She stepped back to admire the results. The dirt on the inside of the cubbyholes and shelves had given way to soap and water, and she placed her provisions neatly within, polishing the remaining glass in the doors with a clean cloth.
The filled mason jars Katie had thought to include with their provisions looked lonely on the pantry shelves, and Lin stood before her store of goods, wondering how long she could make them last. In addition to several items of cookware, an iron skillet and another saucepan from the pantry were cleaned with a ready supply of gritty sand and an overflowing horse trough. Her mother had said no soap must touch the skillets at home, lest the finish be ruined for cooking.
With a critical eye, Lin decided finally that the one she possessed today could not be further damaged no matter how much soap she used on its surface. And with a smile of remembrance, she set the utensils aside.
Nicholas carried the mattress and feather tick up the stairs to bedrooms on the second floor, then repeated the trip, delivering trunks and boxes into the rooms overhead. A series of thumps and scraping noises made her aware of his activities and she left him to his chores, satisfied that her own would keep her occupied for the rest of the day.
They’d arrived after the noonday sun was high in the sky, and Amanda had jumped from the wagon, running across the yard from house to barn, the kitten at her heels.
“Wish I could harness all that energy,” Nicholas muttered, lifting his saddle from the wagon, and leading his horse to the barn. “I’ll need to set that corral fence to rights before I can let the horses loose,” he told Lin. “As soon as I empty the wagon I’ll get to it.”
Once inside the house he’d looked around and contemplated the work facing them. “I hate to see you killing yourself in this kitchen,” he said finally, “but if you can get it clean enough to work in, I’ll see what I can do to help set things to rights.”
“I assure you I’m capable of doing it,” she said stubbornly.
“Probably,” he agreed, slanting her a look of appraisal. “But you’re not over the beating you took the other day, being banged around on that wagon bed, and I didn’t plan for you to put in a full day’s work so soon.”
“We don’t always get what we want in life,” she reminded him.
His steps were quick as he approached her, his hands firm on her waist as he pulled her off balance and into his embrace. “Well, I sure got what I wanted,” he murmured against her throat, his head bent as he nuzzled the soft flesh beneath her ear.
“Or, at least, I’m gonna get what I want, sweetheart.” He straightened and sought her gaze. “Are you too tired and sore for some snuggling tonight?”
“Snuggling?” One brow lifted as she repeated his word. “Is that what you call it?”
He grinned. “There’s a whole slew of other descriptive words I could use, but that one seems best for your tender ears to handle.” He watched her as a blush rose to cover her cheeks, and his smile became tender, his eyes sparkling with a degree of satisfaction she could not mistake.
“If you can figure out a way for me to have a bath, I’ll agree to some snuggling,” she told him, daring to meet his look with a vow of cooperation, should he satisfy her demand for cleanliness.
“Damn, there has to be a washtub somewhere around here,” he muttered. “I’ll check out the barn. Or maybe the fruit cellar under the house.”
“Fruit cellar?” she asked, her ears catching the promise inherent in that phrase.
“It’s probably empty,” he said, as if he would warn her of another chamber filled with cobwebs and small creatures in the corners. “Let me go and take a look.”
She pumped water while she waited, priming the incongruously red pump that looked to be fairly new, then using the handle with a vigorous motion. Water spewed forth and she waited until it cleared, then stuck a bucket under the flow. The stove was hot beneath two of its burners and she eased the bucket atop the likeliest spot to heat.
“You won’t believe the gold mine I just discovered,” Nicholas said, standing in the kitchen doorway. “There must be a hundred or more jars of canned vegetables and even what looks like beef down there. There’s a barrel of apples, and I turned them out on the floor. Some of them are all withered up, but there’s enough to put together a dozen pies or make a couple of kettles of applesauce if you know how to do it.”
“I wonder why they left their foodstuffs behind,” Lin mused.
“Cleary sai
d they were heading back East and just wanted someone to take the place off their hands, so he bought it for a song.” He smiled, his look cocky, she decided. “There’s also a nice square washtub down there, complete with handles. A little session with a scrub rag should get it into shape for your bath.”
“You’ll have my everlasting gratitude,” she said emphatically, and then she replayed his words in her mind. “This ranch belongs to Cleary?” she asked, dumbfounded by that bit of information.
“He thought of making it his home before he met Gussie. Once he settled in as sheriff, he decided to stay in Collins Creek for a while. I suspect he’ll be back here one day, when he gets ready to run some cattle and horses on the high pastures north of here.”
She thought for a moment that Nicholas’s eyes darkened with yearning as he spoke, and her thoughts were voiced aloud before she could contain the words. “Is that what you’d like to do? Live on a ranch, and make a living with horses and cattle.”
He grinned, and the moment was gone. “You’re a city girl, Lin. I wouldn’t ask you to take on the work of a ranch. I’ll be satisfied to run a bank and raise our family in town, I think.
“Now I believe I’ll drag that washtub up out of the cellar and scrub it out good for you by the horse trough. You got a rag I can use?”
She sought the pile she’d folded and placed on the pantry shelf and snatched up an old towel Katie had sent along. “This ought to do it,” she said, pressing a bar of lye soap into his other hand. “At least I’ll have a tub to wash our clothes in.”
He left the kitchen, and she heard the sound of hinges creaking as he opened the doors to the cellar beneath the house. If it weren’t for her aching muscles and the unending pile of work to be tackled over the next days, she could almost be happy here, she thought, looking through a pane of glass that begged for a vinegar-soaked rag to be applied to its surface.
No matter. Nicholas was giving up the operation of his bank to conceal her from the danger she faced. The least she could do was dispense with groaning over her sore knees and aching back and do her share.
The sound of Amanda in the yard carried into the kitchen, and Lin searched the area, catching a glimpse of blue as Amanda scampered between the trees planted in neatly designed rows off to one side of the yard. Fully leafed out, they seemed to be fruit trees of some sort, and she thought of the woman who had watched them bloom and form fruit last year.
Life went on, it seemed, no matter who the observer. Her heart lifted with joy as she considered the place Nicholas had brought her, her sore muscles seeming of little matter as she considered the days ahead.
They would begin here, working together, making a home no matter how temporary it might be. It would be a time out of their lives set apart. She might even learn how to do all the things Katie did so well in Nicholas’s bright, cheery kitchen in Collins Creek. At least she would give it her best shot.
Chapter Eleven
She was asleep, her body sprawled in the middle of the mattress, her glorious mass of russet hair dark on the pale pillow slip beneath her head. Nicholas, his disappointment at war with his raging desire, stripped from the denim trousers he’d donned after his bath in the kitchen and tossed them aside. His better instincts won out and he vowed to spend yet another night holding her while she slept. Kneeling on the edge of the mattress, he lifted her, rolling her to her back, making room for himself beside her.
Despite his care, she woke, blinking up at him for a moment. And then her smile appeared, broken by a yawn that caught her unawares. “I fell asleep,” she whispered, reaching to circle his neck with her forearm. Tugging him close, she nestled her face against his shoulder and opened her lips to press a damp kiss against his skin.
Not only awake, but willing.
“You smell like wildflowers,” she murmured. “You must have used my soap.”
“Once I got squatted down in that blasted washtub, I couldn’t reach anything else,” he told her. “You’ll have to put up with wildflowers for tonight.”
“Hmm…I don’t mind.” She turned her head, and the long line of his throat was blessed by a blend of nuzzling and tasting, her lips and teeth testing his flesh. Her sigh was deep as he circled her with his arms, drawing her against the long length of his body, her nightgown riding up to free her legs from its folds.
“You don’t have any clothes on,” she whispered. “I noticed that when you slept with me before.” She touched his back, a restless movement of her fingers that settled into a caress as she opened her hand. “Don’t you ever sleep in nightclothes? What if Amanda comes in here, Nicholas?”
“She won’t,” he said firmly. “There’s a nice little latch on the door, and I used it. We have all the privacy you could ask for.” His fingers tugged at the white gown, and she murmured a protest.
“Get used to it, sweetheart,” he told her, lifting to bend over her, supported by his elbow against the mattress. “Let’s get this thing off. I want you as close to me as you can be, with nothing in the way.”
Warily, she looked up at him, and he was silent as she made up her mind. Patiently he allowed her the time she needed, hoping he hadn’t pushed her beyond the limits of propriety so firmly ingrained in her behavior. Then he spoke, urging her compliance. “You’re my wife, Lin. We’ll be together every night from now on, and your life is about to undergo a definite change.”
He bent to kiss her and she was unresponsive for a moment beneath him, as if he’d thrust a challenge before her that warranted consideration. His mouth lingered against hers, brushing, pressing lightly, coaxing her to return the caress, and for a long moment he rued his words. He’d pushed her too far, too fast, it seemed, not wooing her as he’d ought.
“In other words, you’ve been as patient as you’re going to be?” She whispered the query against his mouth, and he nodded, one slow, measured movement of his head.
“You expect me to take off my nightgown?” she asked as he tilted her face upward, the better to meet her gaze. In the evening sky, stars and a moon on the wane provided barely enough light to penetrate the darkness of the room, but he could not mistake the sober look she wore.
“I’d be happy to do it for you,” he offered.
“No,” she said quietly. “I think I can manage.” She sat up and he released her from his hold, watching as she unbuttoned the front of her bodice, then unloosed her arms from the long sleeves before tugging the voluminous yards of fabric over her head. She wiggled against the mattress, pulling the gown from beneath her, and he smiled at the sight, watching as she emerged finally from the hemline. Her hair was tousled, falling down her back as she brushed it from her face, and he reached to catch a handful.
“I love your curls,” he said, casting aside the white gown.
“You wouldn’t if you were the one who had to keep them in order,” she grumbled.
“They needn’t be in order tonight,” he told her, looking up at her, her face in shadow now, her breasts limned in moonlight. He spread his hand against her waist and slid it upward, cupping his palm under the soft weight of that feminine part.
Her breath caught, and he heard a hum of pleasure radiate from her throat as he explored the tender flesh, his fingers squeezing the peak lightly, causing the dark, pebbled surface to pucker beneath his coaxing touch.
“Nicholas.” She spoke his name in a hissing whisper, and he repeated the caress.
“Do you know how that feels?” she asked.
“Tell me.” His words were a dark, husky demand as he lowered her to the bed, tucking the pillow beneath her head and rising over her. His mouth found the place he’d readied for his tongue, and she lifted herself from the bed in an involuntary movement that pleased him. Holding her firmly, he let his fingers splay across her stomach, pressing against the softness.
“Tell me,” he said again, breathing deliberately against the damp flesh he suckled. She responded with a shiver, her words almost inaudible.
“I’ve never…no one eve
r….”
The message implicit in her confession touched him, reducing his yearning for completion into a tenderness he was not familiar with. She was truly virgin, truly untouched, and he was struck with the need to give her pleasure with whatever degree of skill he’d learned in the past years. Control was a definite necessity, and he rued the demands of his body, aching with the dark craving for fulfillment that rode him with burning talons of desire. He counted the months of his abstinence and decreed them more than any man could be expected to endure. Yet tonight he must be patient, and that particular lack in his nature might prove to be his undoing.
He called upon that last thread of self-control, that slender rein he held on desire. She was worth the wait, worth the constraint he would impose on himself, keeping him from the quick, urgent coupling he craved. Lin deserved gentleness of touch, the tenderness of coaxing caresses. Even though it brought him to the edge of reason, he would make this time of awakening a pleasure for her…for both of them.
“Nicholas?” She turned in his arms, seeking his embrace, and he lifted his head. “I’m not afraid,” she said. “You needn’t be worried about my bruises any longer.”
Her mouth touched his, her lips opening with the urging of his tongue, and she accepted its presence. Then in a tentative gesture she met the thrust with an answering movement, suckling his flesh, seeking the penetration he offered into the depths of her mouth. A shiver, a soft murmur and the tensing of her fingers against the back of his head sent the message he’d hoped for.
Again his hand found the rounding of her breasts, measuring the soft weight, teasing the taut nubbins that pressed against his palm, and she responded with an agile thrust of her hips. Her indrawn breath told him of new sensations, her shuddering intake of air becoming a lingering gasp of pleasure. The grasp of searching fingers left his head, traveling the width of his shoulders, then spreading wide over the muscles of his back as if she sought to satisfy the yearning for intimacy she’d only just discovered.
Tempting a Texan Page 17
