Bounty Hunter Proposal (7 page)

Matt lay in bed, his body burning with an excruciating awareness of Isabelle. He was alone, lying in a swath of moonlight, but it was as if she lay there beside him. Her scent clung to the fabric of the sheets and the pillow, sweet, inviting, like some delectable morsel just out of reach.

It was his second day of wedded bliss, at least, the second day he knew he was married.

After bathing in the river, they’d returned to the cabin and eaten dinner. Isabelle had made chicken and dumplings and served it with green beans, creamed spinach and cooked carrots. He couldn’t remember having so fine a meal, and to top it off she’d served spice cake for dessert.

When dinner was cleared she’d swept the boys upstairs and bid him good night. She slept upstairs with the boys even though he’d made what he thought was a gallant invitation. He told her that he wouldn’t lay a finger on her and would stay on his side of the bed if she stayed on hers. Blushing prettily, she said she wasn’t that brave or that trusting.

Isabelle could be sassy one moment and shy the next. He wanted to spank her. He wanted to shelter her. He wanted to do both, and he’d be within his rights to go upstairs and bring her back down to his bed. The idea made his cock harden almost painfully. He’d lay her down and soothe her with soft words and slowly seduce her, kiss her, undress her and do everything he’d wanted to do since he’d first laid eyes on her.

But he wouldn’t. He needed to keep his wits about him while he figured out how to keep her and the two little ones safe. Not only that, but he needed to sleep. The days spent chasing Hughes and then hauling him back to Colter Canyon left him bone tired. In the last week he’d had less than a dozen hours of sleep. Closing his eyes, he tried to ignore his straining cock. Maybe if he slept a little, he’d have more sweet dreams of Isabelle.

Sometime later he awoke to her soft whisper. “You and I need to have a little talk.”

He opened his eyes and found her sitting beside him. Moonlight lit her pretty features, and her hair was unbound, framing her face and tumbling past her shoulders. He tried to reach for her but found his wrists bound to the headboard.

A laugh formed deep in his chest and made his shoulders shake. “Oh, sweet Isabelle. You’ve picked the wrong person to tangle with.”

She frowned at him. Clearly she’d expected a different response, not amusement. She rose from her seated position, straddled him and settled on his hips.

He groaned. Maybe she wasn’t so innocent after all. Her body felt tight and hot against his cock. “You’re going to torment me aren’t you?”

“I am. Until you answer my questions and give me your word on a few things.”

He traced his fingers along the rope and almost snorted in disbelief. She’d tied the rope in a bow. Like shoelaces. His sweet Isabelle knew nothing about stealth and deviousness. One of the first things he needed to show her was proper knot tying methods, and he’d demonstrate the techniques on her slender wrists. Then he’d show her the meaning of slow and leisurely torment that lasted till dawn.

She moved her hips, and the caress of her pussy against his cock made him snarl with need. “Stop wriggling,” he growled.

She laughed softly and wriggled even more. Only a little fabric separated his eager cock from her pussy, and he gritted his teeth, steeling his self-control.

He tugged the rope, and it gave way easily, falling from his wrists. Keeping the end firmly clasped in his fingers, he wound it around the palm of his hand.

She set her hand on either side of his shoulders, her hair falling like a curtain around them. “Promise you won’t take the land from me and the boys, Mr. Hudson.”

Her scent struck him, and the rustle of her gown made him want to tear it from her, but he kept his hands above his head.

“All right, Mrs. Hudson. I won’t take the land.”

Her hair shadowed her face, and he couldn’t see her expression, but he felt her disbelief and mistrust. He heard the hitch in her breath. He felt the stiffening of her body.

“Truly?” she asked.

“I’m not going to take your precious land. It’s yours.”

She let out a small huff. “I don’t want to keep it for myself. I want it for the boys.”

He wished she’d wriggle some more, rub that sweet heat against his cock.

She went on, her voice soft. “Everyone tells me to put the boys in a home for foundlings or an orphanage. I won’t do that to them, and I won’t do it to myself. It would be like giving a piece of myself away. I lived in an orphanage for ten years. The boys are staying right here. With me.”

He winced. She was so lovely and held a certain refinement to her. He’d imagined her living a life, perhaps not of privilege, but of means.

“Your parents…died?”

“Yes, I’ve been told. I was too small to remember the details.”

The words hit him hard. She spoke them casually because she had no recollection of them, but he could hardly stand to hear. He clenched his fists as he tried to temper the urge to pull her close, to wrap her up in a soft embrace. He yearned to take her in his arms, press her back to the bed and demand answers. Mostly he wanted to know how a delicate girl like her ended up in a rustic cabin, guardian to two small boys.

“Would you like me to tell you the story?” she asked.

He nodded. “Tell me.”

“They came to Texas to claim a parcel of land. It was part of a land grant. They left me behind with my grandmother. I was five. They never came back.”

“They died?”

She nodded. “Killed by claim-jumpers.”

He closed his eyes. Something in his heart shifted and warmed. His own parents were gone three years now, his mother passing from pneumonia, and his father following her two days later. He always thought he’d had the best parents of anyone he knew and couldn’t imagine losing them as a child.

“Your grandmother raised you?” He wanted to pull her closer, but there was something special happening right now, and he didn’t want to break the spell.

“For three years, but then she passed away, and I went to an orphanage.”

She was silent for a long moment, and he waited for her to say more, but when she spoke again it surprised him more than anything she’d said thus far.

"I would like to kiss you. I know you don't really like me, but I've never kissed a man before. I think if anyone should show me what it is like to be kissed, it should be my husband."

"That would be fine." He tried to sound indifferent about the whole thing, attempting to conceal the need he felt.

"I thought you'd be angry with me when I tied you up."

"What makes you think I'm not angry?"

"You haven't threatened me with anything like a spanking."

"And you think that means you're safe?"

She gave a breathless laugh. "I do. Indeed."

"What's going to keep you safe from me?"

"I'm going to make you promise to behave like a gentleman."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then I won't untie you, and I must say I’m enjoying having you at my mercy. If only the good citizens of Colter Canyon could see you now. Matthias Hudson. The legend. Brought down by a widow, ten years younger and half his size."

She laughed softly at her own joke, and to torment him, she rubbed against his rock hard cock and lowered herself to brush her lips against his. He closed his eyes and relished the feel of her mouth. It took every ounce of control not to toss her down to the bed and demand a kiss that was heated and punishing, a kiss that would show her all the things he wanted to do to her. Her kiss was chaste and innocent. He let her have her way, biding his time. Letting her control things, if even for a short while, gave him a sense of pleasure. As she teased his lips with hers, he imagined her horror if she knew he held the untied rope in the palm of his hand.

"I like having you here, Mr. Hudson.” The way she said his name was pure tease. “You're kind to the boys. You're kind to me. Almost."

He bristled at that comment. When he discovered she had created this farce of marriage he had been furious, but when he saw her and realized her circumstances, he changed his mind. In the last two days he’d gone out of his way to be gallant and chivalrous. "What do you mean
almost
?"

She ignored his question. Lying on his chest, she couldn’t know how she was driving him wild. Her breasts pressed against his chest, her soft breath fanned over his skin, and her hair tickled his chin.

"Tell me right now what you mean by almost kind,” he growled.

"You weren't being very kind when you spanked me, were you?"

"I think you liked it, Mrs. Hudson."

"Of course I didn't. What kind of woman enjoys being spanked?"

She ran her fingers down his chest and under the hem of his shirt. He shuddered as she trailed her palms to his chest. She caressed the expanse of his shoulders. He could feel his self-control slipping.

"I might never see you again," she said softly.

"Maybe I don't feel like leaving." He clenched his jaw and tried to think of something other than her soft, feminine and tantalizing form draped across his chest.

She lifted her head to gaze at him. "What would keep you here?"

"A wife that needs her bottom spanked."

He gritted his teeth when she lowered her head and nuzzled against his neck.

"I don't need a spanking. I need another kiss. I like those."

"I think you like both."

She gave a small huff of indignation. "Promise me you won't spank me when I untie you."

"I promise nothing."

She laughed softly and brushed her hands over his chest. "Then I’ll keep you tied. You feel wonderful. I never knew having a husband could feel like this. Jerome was small and frail and old. He was kind and intelligent, but I could never imagine kissing him, and you make me think about kissing."

"But that wasn't a real kiss. For a real kiss you need to untie me."

She scoffed. "Oh, no, sir. I need you to promise a few things before I untie you. I might be desperate, but I’m not reckless."

Her words squeezed his heart, and he wanted to give her a crushing kiss more than he wanted his next breath. She
was
reckless, and she was desperate, and he yearned to shield her from it all.

"What do I need to promise?" he asked quietly.

“That you won’t punish me for tying you up.”

“Kiss me again.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“I need to teach you how to give a real kiss.”

She stilled, clearly surprised by his words. Her kiss was sweet, but chaste. He reveled in the idea of shocking her with a wicked kiss. Using the last of his resolve, he forced himself to keep his hands over his head.

“Kiss me, Isabelle.” He held his breath, clenched his fists and waited.

She lowered herself slowly, and he kissed her, stroking the seam of her mouth with his tongue. She gave a murmur of astonishment but parted her lips. Her kiss tasted sweet. Honey. Flowers. Sunshine. The feel of her tore a groan from his throat.

“Is this better, Matthias?” she asked.

The sweet yearning in her voice undid something inside him. “I like your kisses very much.”

He delved his tongue past her lips again, and this time she brushed against him. Her hair tickled him, and the hard tips of her nipples pressed through her delicate gown and against his chest. She tantalized him with soft murmurs of pleasure.

Clasping the headboard, he pulled until it groaned.

She giggled. “Don’t break the headboard, Beast.”

“Are you sure you tied me tightly enough, sweet Isabelle?”

“Quite certain you’ll never escape, Matthias. I might keep you here forever.” She trailed her hands up his chest and along his arms until she reached his unbound wrists. He waited and enjoyed how the shock hit her hard. She gasped and darted across the bed with a cry of dismay. He grabbed for her, but she was just out of reach. He rose up off the bed and stalked across the room while she retreated. Holding her hands up as if to ward him off, she backed away with a breathless laugh.

“You look very fierce when you’re angered, Matt.”

He crossed the room slowly. “You’d better remember that.”

“Why should I? You’re leaving soon.”

With a quick movement, he caught her, and she yelped as he lifted her easily into his arms.

“Someone’s been a naughty girl,” he whispered.

She writhed in his arms, but he subdued her easily.

“Your spankings don’t bother me a bit,” she snapped.

“Maybe they don’t. Maybe you like to have your bottom reddened a little and maybe I like the feel of your ass under my hand. Especially after how much trouble you’ve given me today.”

She twisted in his arms as he sat down, but he overpowered her and eased her over his lap.

“I despise you, Matthias Hudson. You have no idea.”

He tugged her gown up. “I know. That’s why you wanted me to kiss you. That’s why you were rubbing that sweet pussy on my cock.”