Christine Dorsey (34 page)

She wanted to hear about Landis Moore, Samantha thought as she flopped on the edge of her bed. But here in the loneliness of her room she admitted something to herself.

More than to learn the fate of that bushwhacker, she wanted to be with Jake Morgan.

Samantha walked to the mirror and looked at her reflection. The woman before her seemed almost a stranger. A stranger that longed for Jake.

She was so deep in thought, trying to analyze this new development, that she didn’t hear the footfalls in the hall. The rap on her door made her whirl around, her hand plastered to her racing heart.

“W
ho is it?” Samantha’s voice quavered. She knew whom she wished were on the other side of the door, yet common sense told her to reach for the revolver Jake had left her.

She needed no gun. Yet the sound of Jake’s voice brought on a new worry. Should she let him in, knowing what happened every time they were alone? Samantha closed her eyes and tried to think logically, but all she could feel was the wonder of being in his arms.

He’d turned away by the time Samantha opened the door. When he glanced back over his shoulder, Samantha saw the same indecision in his eyes that she felt. “I never got a chance to tell you about my trip to Missouri.”

“No, you didn’t.” Samantha stood in the wedge of her open door. As he turned, she studied him in the light from the single oil lamp hanging three doors down the hallway. He was still dressed in gray pants that molded his muscular thighs, though he’d removed the sack jacket he wore at the dance. The top buttons of his white shirt were loosened and Samantha could see the beginnings of curling chest hair.

“On second thought, it’s probably better if I tell you in the morning.” His grin was boyish. “This wasn’t one of my better ideas.” He held up his hand and gestured toward the quiet intimacy of the hallway, the greater seclusion of her room.

He moved back toward Will’s doorway, and Samantha gripped the brass doorhandle till her fingers hurt. She was afraid. Afraid of what she wanted to do. Afraid that her sense of propriety would keep her from it. Would keep her from experiencing the happiness Jake brought her—if only for a short time.

He reached for the latch and the battle inside her ended. “Jake.” He glanced toward her and Samantha couldn’t help smiling at the surprised expression on his face. “Come tell me now,” she whispered.

“Samantha, I don’t think—”

“Please, Jake.” Samantha opened the door wider in welcome, spreading the triangle of light from her room over the flocked wallpaper in the hall.

He’d never had an invitation more inviting or one that caused him more unease. Sitting on the side of the bed he shared with Will, he’d listed all the reasons—numerous, strong reasons—why he shouldn’t go to Samantha’s room. He couldn’t come up with one decent reason why he should—except he wanted to with all his heart. But he was a grown man who knew a little of life, and wanting to was not a good enough excuse to do something he knew was wrong.

But that didn’t stop him from leaving his room and knocking at hers. When she didn’t open the door straightaway, Jake thought he was given a reprieve from himself, from his own desires. But the respite was over, and Jake knew what he was going to do before his footsteps carried him into her room. But he still had a mind to resist this pull between them. He crossed to the window and peered out onto the darkened street.

“Is Will all right?” Now that Jake was in the room, Samantha felt shy and unsure.

“He’s asleep.” Jake fingered the fringe on the window curtain then turned around quickly. Samantha stood with her back to the door, as if she, too, knew distance was their only hope.

“Listen, Samantha—”

“Jake—”

They both spoke at the same time, then stopped, Samantha with a nervous giggle, Jake with a self-effacing grin.

“You first,” he offered.

“No you.”

Jake paused a moment then took a deep breath and leaned against the sill. “I did a lot of thinking as I rode across Missouri after Moore—who, by the way, I found no trace of.”

Samantha folded her hands and studied the tips of her mother’s kid shoes. “I figured as much.”

“His uncle says he went off to Tennessee. But then he also swore Landis and his brother were home last Saturday night, which we know wasn’t true. I rode around asking questions but no one—”

“What were you thinking about?” Samantha stepped toward him. At this moment she didn’t care a fig about Landis Moore.

Jake looked up at her question. He paused a moment then blurted out, “How unfair I’ve been to you.”

Samantha’s head tilted. “I don’t understand. I’m the one... I mean I shot you and pulled you into this. It’s not your fight, but—”

“Samantha, I made love to you—twice—and Lord knows, I want to do it again.”

“You do?” Samantha’s eyes were wide.

“Hell, yes, but—”

“Then why aren’t you?” She took another step, then another.

“Samantha I—” Jake held up his hands, palms out. “Now you just stop right there. One of us has to be rational and look out for your best interests.” God, he wished she didn’t look so beautiful to him. And her fragrance. He could smell the heady scent of roses and her.

“Jake, I—”

“No.” Jake straightened. “You just stay where you are and listen. I’m no good for you. I’m passing through and you deserve a hell of a lot more than that. Now Samantha, I said not to move.”

“I can’t help it, Jake.”

“This is exactly what I’m talking about. We don’t seem to be able to fight this attraction we have for each other, so I think the best thing would be—”

“If we stopped trying.” Samantha moved again, pressing herself to his long lean form.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Jake murmured as he gave in and bent his lips to hers.

Samantha melted against him, her arms wrapped about his middle. His cotton shirt was smooth and she dug her fingers into it when Jake’s tongue eased into her mouth. The kiss was deep and sensual, and by the time Jake lifted his head, his breathing was shallow.

“Oh God, Samantha, I want you so.” Jake speared his fingers through the golden curls, sending the tortoiseshell combs Mrs. Tew had lent her flying. He angled her face toward him, catching her gaze and holding it with the intensity of his own. “But you deserve more.”

“Let me decide what’s best for me.”

Jake touched his mouth to her cheek, her eyes, the tip of her nose. “Lord knows I care about you, Samantha. But I can’t promise—”

“Shhhh.” Her fingers sealed the lips she’d found so captivatingly sensual from the first. “I don’t want your promises.”

What she did want was to feel his strong arms around her, his hard body pressed to hers. And after only a moment’s hesitation, he gave that to her. Samantha snuggled against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart, and knew this was worth it. Even if he rode out tomorrow and she never saw him again, she’d have this night, these memories. They’d stay with her always, because she loved him.

She smiled at the thought and wrapped her arms tighter. The fact that she loved him didn’t surprise her. What did is that it had taken her this long to realize it.

“I’m glad you kept the dress.” Jake spread his hands, fanning his fingers across her ribs. The silk felt smooth and warm like the skin beneath. He was fully aroused, eager to lay Samantha on the bed and watch passion fill her blue eyes. But he didn’t want to rush this time... and he loved just holding her. Seeing the soft, rose-blush color of her cheeks, he nibbled her earlobe then told her how beautiful she looked.

“That’s something else I thought about too when I was riding back from Missouri.” The tip of his finger skimmed across the gown’s décolletage and Samantha’s breast filled and arched toward him.

“What? What did you think about?” Samantha clutched at his elbows to keep from sliding to the floor.

“You in this dress.” The words were little more than a growl, and Samantha felt the heat of his breath as he bent to follow his finger’s trail with his mouth.

Samantha moaned and her head dropped back. Her lower body pressed against his, and even through the gown and petticoat, she could feel his throbbing heat.

“God, when I saw you tonight...” His words trailed off as his tongue dipped, wetting the valley between her breasts. “It was all I could do not to drag you off behind the nearest building.”

“Oh, Jake.” He wooed her with his words and his hot, hot mouth, and all she could do was melt under his magic. Her hands road on his hips as his chin, erotically whisker-rough, nudged her gown’s neckline. His fingers tangled in the curls hanging down her back, his rock-hard staff drove against her womanhood, and the silk inched lower.

Samantha’s breathing stopped and a moan of joy lodged in her throat when the silk abraded over the extended tips of her nipples. But then his mouth was there, warm and soothing, assuaging the ache.

Her fingers flexed spasmodically as his tongue lathed her freed breasts. And then she could not stand the feel of cotton and wool beneath her hands. She yanked at his shirt, tugging it from his pants and greedily rubbing her palms over the sleek, satin skin covering his ribs. He groaned, his lips plundering hers, his fingers fumbling with the tiny pearl buttons marching down her spine.

Samantha grappled with buttons, spreading the shirt halves just as he shoved down her bodice. Her breasts were firm and full and Jake adored them, first with his eyes, then his hands, rubbing his rough palms over the tight tips, then with his mouth.

How she loved the feel of him. Samantha touched his chest, reveling in his heat. Then she followed the arrowing strip of hair that traversed his body. She met the border of wool and didn’t stop. He tensed, sucking in his breath when she encountered the large bulge and ever so gently squeezed it.

His mouth ground down on hers. Jake groped with the remaining buttons and tapes and sent her gown and petticoat billowing to the floor on a soft whisper of air. Her pantaloon ties proved stubborn, and their fingers met as Samantha tried to help. Finally in frustration he gave the string a yank and the worn cotton slipped down over her hips. His large hands followed.

Jake stroked and cupped, rubbed and smoothed. And all the time Samantha’s desire grew to such dizzying heights she thought she’d explode.

Then abruptly he gathered her into his arms and strode the few steps to the bed. Gently he laid her down, taking a quick moment to strip off her shoes and stockings, then stood, silhouetted by the glow from the lamp and stared down at her.

Cool night air sifted across Samantha’s body but the heat of Jake’s gaze kept her boiling with need. She reached up to touch and he stepped closer. His skin was slick, covered with a fine sheen of sweat, and she trailed her fingers down his chest. This time when she reached the confining wool, she paused. Without taking his eyes off her, Jake unfastened his pants and shoved them down. He jerked around and shucked his boots before climbing onto the bed.

He loomed above her, blocking the light, filling her vision with his broad-shouldered body. His breathing was erratic, as was hers. His powerful arms, their muscles corded and bulging, bracketed her head. Samantha watched in anticipation as he leaned toward her, kissing first her mouth, then her chin.

His mouth was all that touched her, but Samantha could feel the sizzle of desire arc between them as he moved down her body. First one, then the other nipple received the erotic torture of his tongue.

He trailed a ribbon of dampness down the valley between her breasts. Samantha’s breath caught as he slid lower. His breath fanned the golden curls at the apex of her legs, and Samantha moaned, her body arching toward him of its own volition. The heat of his mouth nearly drove her over the edge of the giant precipice, where she wavered taut as a bow string.

Then he moved, sliding up her body and impaling her with one quick, powerful lunge and she toppled into some great yawning void where sensation splintered reality. Her body quivered, drawing him deeper, tightened, and convulsed for long moments that seemed an eternity.

Samantha lifted her lashes and gazed into Jake’s eyes. They were smoky green and searching. “Are you all right?” He brushed a lock of hair from her cheek.

Nodding and responding in kind to his quick smile was all she could manage. She felt drained and replete and believed herself totally incapable of moving. But when Jake shifted, imbedding himself even farther, Samantha knew a quickening of desire.

Her legs wrapped around his lean hips and she met each new thrust with growing need. Samantha clutched his muscled buttocks, boldly bringing him nearer, and the spiral of ecstasy erupted again.

This time when Samantha climaxed, Jake soared with her, his hoarse cry blending with hers. They collapsed in a tangle of arms and legs onto the mattress. After a moment, while Jake summoned what strength he had left, he rolled onto his back.

He slanted Samantha a look; he found her doing the same to him, and grinned. “Come here.” Jake stretched out his arm and gathered her to his side. “Are you cold?”

“I... I don’t think so.” Samantha snuggled closer. Just seconds ago she thought she’d burn to a cinder.