Come Spring (30 page)

He thought of her now-ruined hat, of the gold hat pin, of the can of priceless buttons, of her satin cape and the once-dapper wool suit. They were only a few of her grand possessions and still she found it in her heart to thank him profusely for the buckskin coat.

He reached up and tried to unlock her hands from around his neck.

She wouldn’t budge.

“I’d like to thank you properly,” she whispered.

Even in the firelight she could see his embarrassment, sense his hesitation.

Slowly, she raised herself on tiptoe, drawing closer. He lowered his lips to hers.

Annika closed her eyes when their lips met. Buck stared down at her, afraid that if he closed his she might disappear. His mouth was soft and warm. Hers was pliant and willing.

She heard him groan before he tightened his embrace until he nearly drove the air from her lungs. Unable to hold back, he ground his lips against hers. She responded by tightening her arms about his neck. His tongue played against the seam of her lips until she gave in to him, opened her mouth and met his searching tongue with her own.

A delicious, heady feeling filled her, swirled up from between her thighs to engulf her with a need so all consuming that she thought she would burst into flames in his arms. Kissing Buck Scott was like nothing she had ever experienced, nothing she could have ever imagined. Was this, then, the same passion that her father and mother had always known? Was this the electric current that held them together and sparked the love that was a near-visible bond between them for over twenty years? She knew the moment Buck kissed her that breaking off her engagement to Richard was the wisest thing she had ever done.

She moaned against his lips and shoved her hands into the mass of wild curly hair that hung about his shoulders as she fought to reach deeper into his mouth with her tongue.

He responded with his own. His hands left her back as he slipped them up toward her hair. His fingers found the satin ribbon. He pulled it loose and threw it aside. He measured the weight and length of her hair with his hands, ran his splayed fingers through it, pulled it out and down until it surrounded her shoulders like a golden cape.

She let go of her death grip on his neck and shoved her hands into the open front of his jacket. Frantic to touch him, to have nothing between them, she grasped the edge of his shirt where it disappeared into his waistband and began to tug it up and out of his pants. She thrust her hands beneath it and then frustrated by his long johns, grasped the knit material by the handful and clung to it.

Without breaking the kiss, Buck let go of her hair and tried to work the new coat off her shoulders and down her arms. When she realized what he was about, she let go of him long enough drop the coat to the floor.

He shrugged out of his own jacket and pushed her back against the table just as the lamp on the mantel ran out of oil and sputtered out.

She unbuttoned the front of his pants.

He lifted her plaid nightshirt and the white lawn gown beneath it. When his fingers skimmed the bare skin of her thighs, sweat broke out on his forehead.

She pulled his pants open, rent the buttons on his underwear, and freed his throbbing manhood. When she followed her instincts and cupped him in her hands, he tore his lips away from hers, rested his forehead against hers, and shuddered.

“I want you, Buck,” she whispered. “I want to know what love is.”

He heard the words from somewhere far away and tried to shake them off. It was only his mind playing tricks with him after all of his silent longing.

She didn’t mean it.

None of this was real.

This was Annika Storm, the woman he had abducted, the woman who until recently had hated him with a passion.

The woman who was leaving as soon as the pass was clear.

Her hands continued to fondle him. Her fingers closed around his hardened shaft as she began to stroke and pamper him. Did she know what she was doing to him? Could she even guess?

Thankful that Baby was a heavy sleeper, he kicked a chair out of the way, grabbed Annika’s hips, and lifted her up to the table. He stepped up into the welcoming haven between her thighs.

His mind worked through the blinding haze of sensation as he spoke against her lips. “This won’t work.”

“Then let’s lie down.”

“I mean us, this thing between us, it won’t work.”

She sealed his lips with another kiss and let go of him long enough to mimic him by placing her hands on his hips to draw him closer. She felt his fully aroused manhood throbbing against her thigh. Throwing all caution and inhibition to the wind, she lay back across the table.

She opened her eyes and watched his thoughts play openly across his face. His expression was as easy to read as a map on which indecision warred with a need as great as her own. Should he turn away now that she had offered herself up to him so blatantly, Annika knew she would die of humiliation.

She reached out, hoping to draw Buck into her arms.

He reached for the hem of her nightgown.

Annika held her breath.

Buck bunched the material in his hand and pushed it up the length of her, slowly exposing her honey-toned skin to his view until she was lying naked in the firelight. He drew the nightclothes over her head and let them fall where they may. Still standing between her thighs, he bent and pressed a kiss to the hollow of her abdomen. He buried his face against her hot skin, nipped and kissed her until she was writhing and whispering his name over and over again.

She felt his hot tongue move over her as he set her flesh on fire. Slowly, sensuously, he worked his way upward until he was lying over the lower half of her body. He cupped her swollen breasts in his hands, measured the weight of them, then teased her nipples with his thumbs until they were open buds begging to be suckled.

Annika gripped his shoulders with her fingers, gouged her fingernails into his flesh as she clung to him in an effort at grounding herself to the earth, but her senses swirled unfettered. If he felt the pain inflicted by her nails he did not flinch. Instead he slowly lowered his head and licked first one throbbing nipple and then the next. He drew one into his mouth, gently tugged on it with his teeth, and then suckled until he extracted a tortured moan from her lips.

She wrapped her legs about his hips and writhed against him.

Buck knew then he could not wait any longer.

He put his hands on either side of her hips and lifted her, probed once at the entrance to her heated womanhood, then slowly, smoothly, began to enter her.

Annika gasped when he slid inside her, stunned by the overwhelming feel of another being delving into that private inner core which until now had been unviolated. She knew that from this moment on she would never again belong solely to herself, but to him. By this merging of their bodies they were no longer two but one, and she would forever think of them as inexorably joined no matter what came to pass.

He filled her slowly, gradually, giving her time to open to him and then swell around his length. He was breathing heavily now, but his every breath matched her own, as did the wild beat of his heart.

When he reached the obstruction that was proof of her innocence, he paused, unwilling to take her. She lifted her hips, urging him on. Softly, she implored, “Please, don’t stop now, Buck. Please, give me more.”

Before her words could drive him over the edge, he silenced her with his kiss, trying to calm his racing blood before he entered her fully, afraid to let this ever-mounting, exquisite torture end.

Slowly, he started to withdraw, thinking to reenter and thus ease his way, but Annika, misunderstanding, moaned softly and clasped him tighter.

He cried out then—a low, savage growl that came from the depths of his soul—and dove into her. She gasped with the pain but did not cry out. Instead, she buried her face against his neck, tasted his sweat-sheened skin, and began to move with him as he rode her on to greater heights.

The table was hard against her backside but nothing could diminish the mounting pleasure mingled with the slight pain of her lost virginity. As the tension inside her twisted tight as an overcoiled spring, she met Buck’s driving thrusts until they drove each other higher and higher toward release.

The table rocked. An enamel mug near the edge clattered to the floor. No longer able to hold back, Buck lunged into Annika until he had buried his shaft to the hilt and she had wrapped her legs around him and began to pump frantically against him.

The world had long since spun out of her control. All she knew was that Buck had filled her completely and she wanted him to ride her until she reached the unfathomable goal she instinctively knew lay within her grasp. She clung to him and cried his name as she rose ever higher, straining to match his passion.

He lunged again, thrusting into her with a harsh, strangled cry. She felt his seed burst forth inside her and then she experienced her own blinding explosion of light. From below its surface, she felt her skin flash hot, turn to ice, then flame again before she shattered into countless fragments.

As their ragged breathing subsided, Buck drew himself up on his elbows but remained encased inside her as he leaned over her. Once more, he rested his forehead against hers and then kissed her slowly, reverently.

She ran her hand over his thick curls, combed them with her fingers, and watched the light shine against them. She wished they could stay this way forever, warm and silent, wrapped in each other’s arms with their bodies interlocked in the magic way of a man and woman, sharing the exquisite secret that had finally been revealed to her.

She had never known anyone so in need of loving as Buck Scott. It was nearly inconceivable to her that anyone could exist in a world without love. She had always had a bounty of it from her parents, Kase, Ruth, and Richard. Like a princess born to a wealth of riches, she had taken being loved as for granted as if it were her birthright She relished this silent, reflective moment, for she couldn’t help but wonder how Buck was going to react now that they had let their pent-up passions run away with them.

She did not have to wonder long.

Slowly, he pulled out of her and stood, then drew her up with him until she was on her feet. Still wrapped in the afterglow of their lovemaking, Annika pressed her cheek to his shoulder and put her arms about his waist. She felt his hand smoothing her hair over and over again.

Buck was unwilling to release her, afraid that the moment would signal the beginning of the end. Surely, come the light of day, she would regret her actions and be repulsed by him and what he had done. For now he was content to hold her, to forget about the world outside the cabin door and the fact that her brother would certainly kill him now.

A
NNIKA
woke with a start to find herself trapped by Buck’s well-muscled arm. He was sprawled facedown on the bed, lying between her and Buttons, dead to the world. She raised her head enough to see if Buttons was sleeping as soundly and was relieved to see that she was. Annika slowly, carefully lifted Buck’s arm and crept out of bed to start the coffee.

Their clothing littered the cabin floor. She picked it up piece by piece as she crossed the room, shaking and folding along the way. When she found her new coat, she slipped it on over her nightgown and rubbed her cheek against the rich fur lining. She pulled on her socks and shoes and decided to slip outside to the privy while Buck was still asleep. Before she left, she filled the kettle with water, hung it to boil, and stoked the fire.

She slowly opened the door so that it wouldn’t creak and awaken the two sleepers, then slipped out into the chilly dawn. Her breath frosted on the air but she still felt toasty warm from the inside out as she relived every detail of the night before. As her shoes made crunching sounds over the hard-packed snow, Annika wondered what to say to Buck this morning. She could not explain her actions of the night before, nor did she know how something as innocent as a kiss could have turned into such a passionate bout of love-making.

She pressed her hands to her flaming cheeks and paused to look out over Blue Creek Valley, her mind already racing with plans for the future. When the pass cleared, they would all go down the mountain and announce to the world that they intended to marry. Buck would find a job, either at the ranch working for Kase or somewhere in Cheyenne. She couldn’t wait to buy new clothes for him and Buttons, to dress them in the latest styles and take them back to Boston to meet Caleb, Analisa, and Auntie Ruth.

A sudden thought struck her. She would have to ask Buck when his birthday was so that she could tell her aunt—not that it would change things in the least. No matter what the stars said, she was determined to love Buck Scott for the rest of her life.

With her arms wrapped about her she twirled around, her eyes locked on the morning sky. The air was crisp and fresh and scented with pine. She wanted nothing more than to drink her fill of it. Never had she felt so alive, so buoyant with happiness. Last night Buck had indelibly changed her by making her a woman, and nothing in her life would ever be the same again.

She was making her way back toward the cabin when Buck rounded the corner dressed in nothing but long johns, a jacket, and moccasins. When he saw her he slowed, ran his hand through his hair, and then stopped a few feet away. He was looking at her as if he had not expected to find her, but now that he had, he didn’t know what to say.

“Good morning,” she called out cheerfully. “You were sleeping so hard I didn’t want to wake you.”

Buck slowed his uneven breathing and told himself to stop acting like a fool. When he woke up and Annika was nowhere to be seen he had panicked, certain she had taken off on her own after what had happened last night. Now that they were face-to-face and she seemed happy with him, herself, and the world, he wasn’t quite certain what she expected him to say or do.

He waited, silent and watchful, as she crossed the space between them and took his hands.

“Buck?”

He hated the worry that immediately creased her brow, but he refused to make the first move. He stared, mute.