Ballad Beauty (15 page)

“You should have left your respectability in Boston, Jenny. I’m trying to be practical here. You’ve got to get out of those wet clothes, or you’ll catch the pneumonia.” He gazed at her steadily. “I signed on to be a guide, not a nursemaid. Now what’s it going to be?”

Jenny flung off her poncho in reply.

CHAPTER 17

Jenny shouldn’t be cold, not when she was this angry. Who was this cowboy to boss her around? She clamped down on her jaw. She refused to allow any more chattering teeth. No more shivers or shakes or chills. She would remove her wet clothes, wrap up in a blanket, and be done with it. When her clothes dried, she’d put them back on as if she did this kind of thing every day.

She avoided looking at Noah by pointing her gaze toward the low overhang. Oh, that man rubbed her the wrong way.

Except when he rubbed her right.

She though back to how scared she’d been when Ned Perkins grabbed her in the dark. She’d caught his suggestive glances all night long. Why hadn’t she exercised more prudence? She could have awakened Noah and explained her dilemma. Certainly, it would have been embarrassing, but he was a gentleman. It might have inconvenienced him some, but he would have protected her all the same.

She removed her dress, then her single petticoat, and laid them out in the corner, along with her stockings and boots. She wished she could retrieve her one remaining dress, but it was outside with most of their equipment. Noah had already been so kind to her tonight. She wouldn’t dream of asking him to go out and look for it in this violent storm.

She couldn’t stand the thought of being without her shift, though. It was damp, but not overly so. Truth be told, she’d rather take on a raging head cold tomorrow than be without her shift tonight.

She reached down and took one of the blankets he’d provided and wrapped it snuggly about her. She backed against the solid wall and slid down, her knees tucked under her. She would lean against this wall for support. In her own little corner, she would try to forget the events of tonight.

“I’m finished,” she told him.

She closed her eyes. She could hear Noah going through the motions of undressing. She dared not peep. No matter how much pleasure she’d received in watching him bathe, she couldn’t chance a glimpse up close. He would no doubt tease her unmercifully if he caught her at it.

But it was hard keeping her eyes shut. The pictures that ran through her mind at an astonishing pace all included Ned Perkins—his sly looks, his tall, skinny body, his soulless eyes. She bit the inside of her cheek, trying to focus on anything but the ugly stranger and his roaming hands.

The only time a man touched her before in an intimate way had been when Noah kissed her. She enjoyed his touch—had in fact craved it ever since—but now all she could feel were Ned’s roving hands on her, clawing at her waist, his hand over her mouth, his lips against her neck. She felt dirty, even though they had come through a blinding rainstorm. She longed to sit in a scalding bath and scrub the places he pawed. She didn’t know if she’d ever feel clean again.

Her chilled body begged for warmth. She thought if she lay down and curled up, she might be warmer. It was hard to believe that only hours ago she’d enjoyed a bath in the brisk stream. She tipped over onto her side and balled up as a kitten might, her head tucked low.

“Jenny?”

Noah’s voice startled her. She opened her eyes. The lantern was turned so low, it barely flickered. He stood close by it, a blanket around him. It didn’t cover his long legs. The muscled calves bespoke of his strength.

“I’ve opened the oilcloths. If we get on top of them, they’ll give us some protection.” His eyes pleaded with her. “Come on over, honey.”

She loved the way he had slipped into calling her that. Somehow it seemed so natural rolling off his tongue. She knew he didn’t mean it as an endearment. She’d read that many Westerners used
honey
or
sweetie pie
as easily as a person’s name. Still, when she heard it in that low, deep voice, it made her knees go weak.

“All right.” She got to her feet and walked over to where he motioned. “Right here?” She hovered next to him.

“Yes.” He took a deep breath. “I have my tinder, but I doubt I could find a dry stick anywhere. We’ll just have to hunker down and get through the rest of tonight as we are.”

She settled herself on the ground and rolled onto her side, away from him.

“You should take your shift off, Jenny.”

“I beg your pardon! How did you know I still had it on?” She glared at him over her shoulder and then snapped her head back around.

“I could see a glimpse of it when you came over, is all. I’m just concerned about you catching cold.”

“It is only slightly damp, Noah. I prefer to leave it on.” She fell silent. The ground seemed harder than it had any night since they’d started out for Prairie Dell. She was still deathly cold. Her body began to shudder. She couldn’t stop it. She did not want Noah Webster’s sympathy. Or body heat.

“Put your feet on mine.”

“What?”

“Your feet. Slip ‘em on my legs. If your feet can warm up, maybe the rest of you will.”

She was proud—but not too proud to pass up his offer. It was too tempting. She remembered how warm he’d been earlier, radiating heat. Even now she could feel that heat close to her. She inched her feet onto his legs.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!” he cried. “They’re blocks of ice.”

He sat up and took her left foot in his large hands. He began to rub it briskly. “No wonder you’ve been shivering.” He continued to rub first one foot, then the other, until she knew she’d died and gone to heaven. Something about this man’s hands did her in.

“Okay. Now rest ‘em here. Good.”

They lay in silence. As tired as she was, she didn’t know if sleep would be possible. A fresh wave of tremors ran through her. Would she ever get warm?

Noah sidled up to her back. By now, she was too cold to protest. He slipped his arms around her and tucked her head under his chin. “You are a living glacier, Miss Shanahan. Let’s try to fix that.”

The man practically glowed like embers. Even through the blanket and her shift, she was soon warmed. But it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. Much more.

“Noah?”

“Mmmmm?”

She turned her head toward him. “I forgot to say thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t show up when you did. That man—”

She broke off. All the ugliness she’d tried to block out resurfaced in a rush. She burst into fresh tears.

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” his deep voice rumbled. “You’re safe now.” He tightened his hold on her. “Nothing happened.” He continued to murmur soothing words as he brushed his lips against her hair. He turned her so she faced him. He kissed her brow and the tip of her nose. Somehow, he was kissing her mouth.

Oh, God, the sweetness of his mouth. Jenny had been drawn to it ever since the first kiss they’d shared. His lips brushed against hers tenderly. Never had there been a more enticing mouth than Noah Daniel Webster’s. It was even better than she remembered.

He ran his tongue from one corner of her mouth to the other, along her full, bottom lip and back again. His lips pressed against hers, gently at first, then more demanding. She sensed that he wanted to possess her, protect her, be a part of her always. She responded to him and opened her mouth.

He plunged in his tongue, mating with hers as if they were meant to be since Creation began. Each kiss bettered the one before it, but all were hot, enticing, heady. He kissed her till she couldn’t breathe, till her heart almost leaped from her chest.

He trailed kisses along her jaw and down her neck, circling her pulse point. He parted the blanket and moved lower, easing her shift from her shoulders. She knew she should stop him, but she’d never experienced this kind of magic before.

He touched his tongue to her breast and she jumped. She tried to pull away from him. He steadied her, silencing her alarm with another deep, drugging kiss that left her shaken to the core. His mouth gradually moved again to her breast. He rotated it around her nipple till it stood taut for him. He placed his mouth over her breast and suckled her as he kneaded the other one. The fire building within her threatened to rage out of control.

She lifted her hands and ran her fingers through his dark, wavy hair, pulling him closer. He moved to her other breast and repeated the ritual until the intense pleasure made her think she’d lost her mind.

“Oh, Noah,” she called.

He lifted his head to smile at her, a smile she ventured had broken a thousand dance hall girls’ hearts. But tonight it was for her. Only her.

He kissed her mouth again. She didn’t know for how long. As he kissed her, he ran his fingers through her hair, massaging her scalp with a delicious slowness. He pushed her shift lower and dropped his hands to her waist, encircling it with his long, lean fingers, stroking her stomach with his strong thumbs. He nuzzled her neck, and all thoughts of Ned Perkins and his vile hands fled. Only Noah existed in her heart. Her mind. Her soul.

His hands moved to her hips, his thumbs continuing their circular motion as he rained kisses along her jaw. He slipped his hands lower, along her thighs, and then parted them slightly. The throbbing that she’d been aware of now demanded attention. She wanted—no, needed—his hand there.

And then it was. He cupped her gently, slowly stroking her, while he kissed her ear. She found it hard to concentrate on anything. So many different sensations at once confused her.

Noah gently pushed a finger inside her. He heard the catch in her throat and felt the slight tremble as he caressed her. Her hips rose instinctively to meet each stroke. God, she was beautiful. He looked into her eyes, glazed with passion and desire, and was overwhelmed. Every curve, her smell, the tousled hair—he was moved beyond words by this woman.

He kissed her hard, wanting her more desperately than he’d ever wanted any woman, anywhere, at any time.

She moaned softly as his fingers continued their motion. She was ready for him. He needed to be inside her—now—but he couldn’t. As much as he wanted her, this was one woman he could never have, much less take. Jenny might think she wanted him, but when she learned who he really was and what his mission meant, she’d be beyond betrayed.

He also knew a simple fact. He wasn’t good enough for her. A girl like Jenny needed someone reliable, a man she could always count on, with a steady job and a past with no regrets. He could never be what she needed—or deserved.

He could picture her in front of a white house surrounded by a trim picket fence, children playing tag in the yard. Maybe a dog or two running around. A man would stop at the gate and study her for a moment as she hung a load of laundry out to dry. The man would admire her trim figure and her creamy skin, the curve of her breast as she reached and clipped the clothespin around the clean sheet. He would swallow hard and thank his lucky stars that she was all his, in every way.

The children would spot him and cry out, running to meet him—but he’d meet Jenny’s eyes first. She’d smile at him, her eyes flashing mischief, glad he was home again like clockwork, every night. He’d be a man she could love. A husband she could depend upon.

Not a wanderer. Not a man who’d be there only part of the time—and when he was there, longing to be somewhere else.

It wouldn’t be Noah Daniel Webster.

Tears stung at the back of his eyes. A bittersweet feeling washed over him. Maybe he did have a little bit of good in him, for as much as he craved this woman, he’d do right by her. He wouldn’t take her virginity. Let that privilege be for her future husband.

But he could pleasure her and enjoy that small part of her. Here. Now. Just for a little while. It would be a memory he could carry with him always.

He continued to make love to her with his fingers while he listened to her moans and gasps.

He kissed her again, so thoroughly that Jenny was confused. And all the while he kept that rhythm going. It was almost like a dance. Not that she’d ever danced before, but she imagined it was something like this. She found herself urging him on, breathless now, wanting each thrust of his fingers as they became faster, longer, harder. Suddenly, a shower of stars exploded from inside her.

Waves of pleasure ran through her over and over, like the tide coming in and out again. She wanted to tell him what happened, but he still kissed her like there was no tomorrow. He rolled over, taking her with him, his arms strong and sure about her. She could hear his heart pounding wildly as her ear nestled on the soft matting of hair on his chest. She was sure her heart beat in time with his.

“Noah?”

“Mmmm?”

She didn’t know how to put into words what she wanted to say. “That was nice,” she managed primly.

Noah looked at her and grinned. He kissed the tip of her nose. “It was right nice, honey.”

He tightened his hold on her, his hand rubbing her back. She yawned and snuggled closer to him, happy to be in his arms. She’d never imagined being married to a cowboy, but she was a Western woman now. She couldn’t wait for her papa to meet Noah. She was positive they’d get along famously.

She fought to stay awake so she could enjoy lying in his arms. She lasted twelve seconds.