Angel Creek (28 page)

“Absolutely not,” Wilson said sternly. “I forbid it. You're just infatuated with him and have no idea what you're talking about. I realize he's a romantic sort of figure, especially after the way he helped Dee, but you need stability to have a good marriage, not a gun sharp who'll always be looking over his shoulder.”

“Oh, Papa,” Olivia said sadly. “I'm not asking your permission. I love you and Mother very much, and I want you to be at my wedding, but I'll have it whether you're there or not. I know you're concerned for my safety, and everything you've mentioned has made me
think, too. But Luis is more than all those things you've said. He's a good, honorable man. Look at the way he risked his own life to help Dee, to use your own example! None of the fine, upstanding citizens in the saloon could find it in their hearts to give help when he asked for it, but you wouldn't be kicking up such a fuss if I wanted to marry any of them. Please don't turn against Luis because he isn't the type of man you've always thought I would marry. He's exactly the type of man who will make me happy, and I want you to be happy for me.”

“You want too much.” Wilson's face and voice were both stiff. Honora was quietly weeping.

“I'm sorry you feel that way, but it won't change my mind.”

O
LIVIA LAY SLEEPLESS LONG AFTER THE HOUSE WAS
silent that night. The grandfather clock downstairs chimed midnight, but she was wide awake. She had hated the scene with her parents, hated their unhappiness, but it hadn't changed her mind. She had never been as certain of anything in her life as she was of Luis.

At first the scraping noise didn't register, as accustomed as she was to the tree limbs outside her window brushing against the glass. Then she realized that the sound was that of her window being raised, and she leapt from the bed with a scream lodged in her throat.

“Don't run,” Luis said in a low voice. “It's just me.”

“Just you!” Her knees shook, then buckled a little. She grabbed for the bedpost. “Are you trying to frighten me to death? Don't ever do that again!” But
even in her fright she kept her voice to a fierce whisper.

He chuckled. “Yes, ma'am. I hope this is the only time I ever have to climb through your bedroom window.”

She was much struck by that fact. “Yes, what
are
you doing climbing trees so soon after being shot? What if you opened the wound again?”

“I didn't. It was just a little wound, after all. I feel fine.” He put his hand on the back of her head and kissed her. “I couldn't wait until morning to find out if I have to wait a month for a fancy church wedding, or if we can do it a lot faster.”

She put her hands on his biceps, drawing strength from the hard warmth of his body. “We can get married as soon as you want,” she said, and despite herself there was sadness in her voice.

He kissed her again, his mouth tender. “I'm sorry, darling. I know you wanted them to be happy.”

“Yes, I did. But I found that I'm selfish enough to want my own happiness, too.” With a little sigh she went into his arms; feeling them fold around her was like coming home. As he gathered her close she abruptly realized how thin the barrier of her nightgown was, allowing her to feel the heavy buckle of his gun belt and the extra cartridges shoved in the little loops, even the buttons on his pants. The last was so evident because of the heavy bulge behind them.

Once she would have been mortified had a man held her so close she could feel his body, but Luis had spent months accustoming her to his touch, teaching her the pleasure of physical love. A thrill went through
her at the knowledge that he desired her, and without thought she moved her hips against him.

He slipped one hand down to her buttocks and urged her closer, bending his knees a little to bring them together. She sighed at the adjustment of their bodies.

Luis angled his head to fit his mouth on hers. Now. The time was now. She had made her choice, and he wasn't going to wait even one more night before making her his. Perhaps a gentleman would wait until they were married, but he wasn't a gentleman—he was a man who wanted his woman. The marriage rites were for society; the most basic vows would be sealed with their bodies.

She was no longer frightened by his kisses, or by his hands on her body. She shivered with delight whenever he touched her breasts. He led her through those things he had already taught her, feeling the delicious tension beginning to tighten her muscles. He unbuttoned her nightgown and slid his hand inside to stroke her satiny breasts, and she gave a soft moan as her nipples tightened.

He stepped back and unbuckled his gun belt, letting it drop to a chair. Then he pulled off his shirt.

Olivia moved to him, fascinated by the faint gleam of light on his smooth skin. It was too dark to see his expression, but she discovered that she didn't need light; she knew him, knew his wide shoulders and hard chest, his muscular abdomen. The bandage at his waist was a small splotch of white, and seeing it made her ache anew. She kissed him, brushing her lips across his chest to find his little nipples. “I love you,” she whispered, her breath warm on his skin.

He tilted her head up and settled his mouth on hers, his tongue slowly entering and teasing. His hands swept across her shoulders, and the nightgown dropped to her waist, held up by the curve of her hips. Before she could do more than draw a quick breath he pushed it past her buttocks, and it dropped to the floor around her feet.

She stood frozen, her frightened eyes lifting to his face, and now she wished that she had light so she could see him. No, she didn't. She was naked, and if she could see him, he could also see her. She realized that he could see her very well, the paleness of her skin visible even in the darkness.

Her bareness was shocking. Her hands fluttered downward to shield her sex, and with inexorable gentleness he caught her wrists and moved her hands to her sides. “Have I ever hurt you?” he asked with his lips at her temple.

She began to tremble. “No,” she whispered.

“I'm going to make love to you tonight. You're going to be completely mine. Do you know what's going to happen?”

She tried to think, tried to prod her stunned mind into coherency. “I . . . not really.”

“Have you ever seen animals mating?”

“N-no. I mean yes. I saw a pair of dogs once.” And she had been painfully fascinated before the impropriety of what she'd been doing had occurred to her, and she had rushed away in embarrassment.

Luis smiled against her hair. His innocent darling. “The concept is roughly the same,” he said, soothing her with light caresses on her back and hips. “You've felt how I get hard when I'm with you. To make love I
put my shaft inside you, here.” And he moved his stroking hand to the front of her tightly clenched thighs, sliding one finger into the soft folds.

She jerked wildly, and he caught her to him with one strong arm. “Stop that,” she moaned. “You mustn't.” Her trembling had increased, and she felt weak, the muscles in her legs shaking and threatening to go limp. She couldn't believe that he was touching her between her legs, or that it was causing a violent firestorm to race along her nerves. She felt unbearably heated, her skin so sensitive that his touch almost made her cry out. Only the dim knowledge that she had to be quiet kept her from screaming aloud at this painful ecstasy. He had aroused her before, given her pleasure that had left her aching for more, but nothing had been like this. It was as if before he had given her only water to taste, and now he was giving her full-bodied wine. There was simply no comparison.

“Let's lie down, love,” he coaxed, kissing her again. She stood rigid, and he persuasively rubbed his finger on the tiny nub between her legs, keeping his touch feather-light because she was so new to it all. She trembled again, and he felt the strength go out of her legs. He lifted her onto the bed and quickly removed his boots and pants. His entire body was aching with anticipation as he lay down with her.

She felt dazed by what was happening. He was seducing her, and she was helpless to stop it. She didn't want to stop it. But she felt as if she were on a runaway train that was going faster and faster, totally out of control, and she couldn't jump off.

She felt his hard length jutting against her hip, and
without thought she reached down to move it. As soon as her fingers closed around that alien flesh she jerked her hand away. Luis moaned, his hips arching a little. “Touch me,” he murmured roughly, his breath coming fast. “Please. I've wanted to feel you holding me—”

She hesitated, for it seemed impossibly bold and wicked. But so had everything else he had taught her, and she loved it all. Shyly she folded her fingers around him again, and in the next moment she was fascinated by the feel of him, hardness covered by silky smooth skin. She felt the first faint edging of fear, for she didn't see how he could possibly enter her as he had said.

He moved over her, levering her thighs apart with his.

It took all of her self-control to lie still. Her hands twisted in the sheet.

He sensed her distress and soothed it with low whispers of reassurance and kisses that lingered. He fondled her breasts and kissed them, and soon the tension eased out of her muscles. Her legs relaxed so that they were no longer clamped on his. His talented fingers searched out the softness between her thighs, and the petals opened like a flower blooming. She made a soft sound, and her head rolled on the pillow.

He stroked her to passion, entering her with his fingers while using his thumb to keep her aroused. She arched and twisted, her body instinctively seeking his. He rubbed her to the very edge of completion, then removed his hand and guided his manhood to her opening.

Again she went still, though her chest was heaving. He leaned closer, letting her cradle his weight. The force of it pushed him a little way into her.

She closed her eyes, her entire body trying to draw back from him. He was inside her just enough for pain to threaten, and what she felt warned her that it would be true pain, not just discomfort. “It hurts,” she whispered.

“I know, darling. But it's just this first time.”

She lay beneath him, feeling the pressure as he eased deeper into her. She could feel her inner channel opening and painfully stretching to admit him. She felt a deeper stretching, and he was hurting her, the pain hot as her maidenhead tore to let him forge deep into her body.

He held himself still to let the pain abate. His shoulder was wet with her tears, and he set about soothing her even though his manhood was throbbing painfully. The soft clasp of her inner muscles was maddening, luring him toward a satisfaction he couldn't let himself have just yet.

The only true way to soothe her was to take her to the peak he denied himself, to show her the ultimate pleasure that was the reward for enduring this initial pain. His own climax would have to wait, for nothing was so important as giving her ease. He slipped his hand between their bodies and found her soft nub again, coaxing it from its protective folds with a whisper-light touch, luring Olivia back into passion. He pleasured her with hard-won patience, not trying to take her swiftly to climax but instead letting the pleasure build so that she felt first a gentle relaxing of her muscles, then the slow return of arousal. Only
when her hips began to lift against his hand and initiate the movements of lovemaking did he increase the pressure and speed of his stroking fingers.

Olivia had been bitterly disappointed by the pain of his penetration even though Dee had said that the first time hurt. All of her previous lessons in sensuality had been full of heated pleasure, and despite her fear she had trusted him to make this final surrender as completely enjoyable as all the rest of it. Instead there had been pain, and the harsh shock of having her body invaded. But his experienced touch was bringing back pleasure so fast and so strong that it swept over her in waves. She surged beneath him, trying to take him deeper into her because somehow that had become part of the ecstasy; she locked her legs around his and writhed in increasing passion. Luis groaned aloud at the movement of her body on his length, trying to hold back, trying not to thrust hard and deep when every fiber in him needed to.

She cried out, and he put his hand over her mouth. She stiffened and shuddered, and he felt the soft internal shivers that heralded the onslaught of her peak. He couldn't stop himself then; he began to thrust, and in only a few seconds he followed her into mindless pleasure. The force of it emptied him and left him unable to move, sprawled heavily on top of her.

She moved her hand slowly down his back, luxuriating in the feel of his strong muscles. She felt dazed and dreamy. So there was pleasure after all, a pleasure so intense that she had thought she might die of it. She didn't regret that he hadn't waited until they were married, only that he hadn't completely seduced her
before. This new intimacy was overwhelming in both the pleasure it afforded and the bond it had forged. She felt more utterly his than she had ever thought she would feel with a man, and more possessive of him than she had known was possible. She loved him, but this bond of their bodies was more primeval than that.

After a long while he stirred, lifting himself from her body. “I have to go,” he said sleepily, “or I'll still be here in the morning, and that would have your father looking for a shotgun. I'll come for you at about ten. Will that give you time to pack?”

So it would be that soon. He had claimed her and saw no reason to wait even a couple of days for their marriage.

“Yes,” she said, and she kissed him. “Where will we stay? Or will we be leaving town immediately?”

He didn't hear any hesitation in her voice, only curiosity. She truly didn't care where they stayed. Suddenly he felt like laughing out loud, exulting in the fate that had given her to him. “We'll stay in the hotel for a while until we decide what to do.”