Deborah Camp (19 page)

“I won’t utter a chuckle,” he swore as she disappeared into the forbidden territory of her boudoir, emerging moments later with a sweep of cotton and lace. “Why, Zanna, I think it looks perfectly fine,” he said, touching one long sleeve. “Forgive me, but I’d like someday to see you in it.” He blushed and so did she. “It’s such a little thing.” His gaze drifted from the garment to her figure behind it. “But then you’re no more than a slip of a girl, are you?”

“Hardly a slip and I’m way past girlhood,” she assured him, tossing the nightdress onto a chair. “My girlhood ended the day I came back to Primrose from boarding school.” She shrugged. “But it was wonderful while it lasted.”

“Has Duncan accused you of things in front of Adams?”

“Yes, in a veiled way. I think Grandy is curious, but he hasn’t asked anything directly except …” She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, remembering his question just before she’d broken the cup and cut her hand.

“What?”

“He knows I’m terrified of Duncan.” She rested her hands against Theo’s shoulders and his hands came up to cradle her elbows. “Do you think Duncan will make his accusations more public?”

“I don’t think so. He has no proof.”

“He’s such a bully!”

“Yes, I know.” Theo fitted one hand to the back of her head and brought it to his shoulder. He wrapped his arms loosely around her shoulders and sighed expansively when
her arms circled his waist. His eyes closed as he drifted in the pleasure of his fantasies.

Likewise, Zanna closed her eyes and listened to Theo’s rapid heartbeat. She knew he adored her and that was the problem. She couldn’t take advantage of such a pure, idolatrous love. He had given too much already. She clung to him, smelling the tobacco in his coat and feeling the frailty of his arms, the smallness of his rib cage. He was a slight man with the courage of a giant and the heart of a crusader.

“Well, well, well. What have we here?”

The drawling voice flung them apart. Trembling, they both stared dumbly at Grandy, whose silhouette filled the doorway, limned by the gold of the setting sun.

Zanna couldn’t find her voice. She looked to Theodore, but he, too, was speechless.

“Let me guess,” Grandy said, stepping into the room and seeming to fill it. “You were whispering to Theo your secret recipe for churning the smoothest butter in the country. No?” He slanted an arm across his waist and fingered his jaw with his other hand. “Okay, then you must have been measuring him for a shirt you’re planning on making him for Christmas? Is that it?”

“Grandville,” Zanna said, finally forcing words past her constricted throat, “please don’t go on.”

“Then tell me what you were doing,” he challenged, his eyes glinting like wet jade. “Tell me you didn’t shoo me out of the house today so that you and Theodore could have the house—and
your
bedroom—to yourselves!”

Theo sucked in a sharp breath, doubled up a fist, and swung it in a high semicircle. His knuckles cracked like thunder against Grandy’s unprotected jaw.

“Theo! Grandville!” Zanna started forward, turning toward her husband, then her friend, torn between her need to comfort both of them. “Stop this!” She pressed her knuckles to her lips and fought to control her mounting panic.

Grandy shook his head, clearly stunned by the blow. His eyes rolled before focusing again. Theo hopped on one foot, cradling his poor, bleeding hand in the other.

“I th-think it’s broken,” he cried, trying hard not to scream.

Grandy rubbed his jaw. “No, I don’t think it is. Just bruised.”

“I’m not talking about you, you—you—you animal!” Theo shouted. “I’m talking about my hand. I think it’s broken!”

“Oh, dear,” Zanna said, cupping his trembling hands in her own. “Grandville knows a little about doctoring. Let him look at it.” She turned to Grandy for assistance. “Can you tell if it’s broken?”

Grandy shook his head, his hands on his belt. “You expect me to doctor his hand after he used it to bust me in the jaw? You’re nuts!”

“
I’m
nuts?” she challenged. “You barge in here saying terrible things and—”

“Yes,” Theo said, jumping into the argument. “To say such things to a lady! Your wife! It’s despicable.”

“Well, excuse me all to hell,” Grandy said, laying his palm against his throbbing jawline again. “I came back from town to find my wife in the arms of her former lover and it made me mad. I don’t know. I’m funny that way.”

“Former lover?” Zanna repeated.

“How dare you!” Theo said, shaking off Zanna and stepping right up to Grandy again. “Step outside and I’ll make you regret those words! Suzanna Hathaway is a lady, sir, and I won’t allow you to accuse her of such sullied behavior!”

Grandy stared down at Theo and grinned. “I’ve got to hand it to you, Theodore, old boy; you’re a cocky little runt.” His gaze lifted to find Zanna’s face just above the top of Theo’s balding pate. “I can see now why she likes you. Damned if I’m not beginning to like you myself.”

It wasn’t until Theodore had ridden off toward town that Zanna noticed that the other men hadn’t returned from Scyene.

“Where is everyone?” she asked, leaving the front door open now that Grandy was home.

“Still in town, I imagine,” Grandy said. He fell into Fayne’s old chair and gingerly massaged his jaw, “It’s a wonder Booker
didn’t
break his hand. He landed a good blow.”

“Is there anything I can do for you?” Zanna asked, bending closer to examine the blue skin along his jawline. “He didn’t loosen your teeth, did he?”

“No.” He smiled, recalling when he’d first met her and how she’d examined him as if he was a horse at an auction. “What was he doing here?”

“Visiting, that’s all. Theo is a dear friend.”

“So you’ve said.”

“It’s true.” She sat primly across from him on the horsehair sofa. “Why did you come back without the other men?”

“Because town wasn’t any fun without wine, women, and a poker game. Perkins acted like a good watchdog. He wouldn’t even let me into the saloon, so I wandered around town for a few hours and then decided to come on back here.”

“You didn’t enjoy yourself?”

“How could I? A man doesn’t go into town to shop like a woman.”

“I thought you’d enjoy the time away from here.”

“I did, but there’s not much to do in Scyene if you can’t cool your heels in the saloon.”

She felt a pang of pity for him. She should have thought about how boring town would be to him if he weren’t allowed the pleasures and privileges of other men.

“You could have visited the other hanging husbands.”

“Old Stubby and Elmer?” His lopsided grin was blatantly droll. “Now wouldn’t that have been fun? I should have thought of that.” He lifted his hips from the chair and pulled her nightdress out from under him. “What’s this?” he asked, shaking it put and rubbing the soft material between his thumbs and forefingers. “Is this what you sleep in?”

“I made it today.”

“What’s it doing out here?” He lowered the dress to confront her with the glint of challenge in his eyes.

“I was …” She swallowed nervously. “Well, you see, Theo wanted to see it.”

“Oh, did he now?”

“Yes, he did!” She balled her hands into fists, but relaxed them when the healing cut on her palm began to burn. “It’s the first thing I’ve made since I was a girl. Theo wanted to see it.”

“It’s pretty,” Grandy allowed, smiling faintly. “In fact, I’d like nothing better than—”

“I know,” she said, repeating Theo’s words, “you’d like to see me in it one day.”

“No.”

“No?” She was surprised. Didn’t all men’s minds run along the same course when faced with a woman’s private dressings?

“No.” His grin became almost feral. “I’d like to see you
out of it
one day.”

A sudden, fierce emotion squeezed her heart and made
her see double for a few seconds. She felt her face flame. It was unsettling to know that her heightened color was a result of pleasure, not embarrassment.

“You shouldn’t speak in such a manner to me,” she whispered, staring blindly off to one side so that he was forced to study her profile. “It’s impolite.”

“You’re blushing! You’re not having impolite thoughts, are you?”

Her chin trembled, but she could do nothing, say nothing. She waited to feel the revulsion only to realize that it wasn’t coming this time. His growling tone alarmed her, unnerved her, and confused her, but it didn’t repulse her.

“Was Theo your lover?”

“No.” Still, she kept her face averted.

“But he does love you.”

“Yes, he does.”

“Why didn’t you marry him?”

“Because I married you instead.”

He sighed, momentarily thwarted. “Okay, then tell me this. Did your father beat you?”

“Wh-what?” Her head whipped around, her eyes glassy with disbelief. “My father b-beat me? No! Never!” She jumped up from the sofa, trembling with outrage. “My father was the best man I’ve ever known and I won’t allow the likes of you to speak disparagingly of him. Why, you aren’t fit to wipe my father’s boots! You—you wouldn’t make a good—”

“Okay, okay!” He stood and gripped her upper arms. “You’ve made your point. It’s just that I know you’ve been mistreated by someone—no, by some
man
. I thought it might have been your father. I was wrong. Sorry.”

“Why do you think I’ve been mistreated by a man?”

One corner of his mouth lifted and he tipped his head to one side to regard her with eyes that held tender understanding. “Only a fool wouldn’t see it, Zanna. You’re running
from any kind of intimacy. Every time I make a move toward you, you flinch.”

“Perhaps I merely don’t want
your
attentions.”

“No, it’s more than that. You married me to keep men away from you.”

“I admit that was part of it,” she said, delivering a cool look. “I knew there would be fortune hunters I wished to avoid. Word spread quickly about my husband’s death and that he had willed this land to me.”

“Zanna, would you answer one question truthfully?”

“Are you suggesting that I’m a liar?”

His gaze sharpened, pinning her as his hands tightened on her arms. “Am I your shield against Duncan? Is Duncan one of the suitors you’re trying to head off at the pass?” When she tried to pull away, he jerked her back in front of him. “Answer me, Zanna. I deserve to know what I’m up against. I know you’re afraid of Duncan. Did you marry me to keep him away from you?”

“Yes.” Her eyes narrowed. “I hate him.”

“He thinks you killed his brother.”

“I didn’t!” She gripped his forearms, willing him to believe her. “I didn’t, Grandy. Lightning struck Fayne. I wasn’t anywhere around when it happened. Doc Pepperidge examined Fayne. He’ll tell you it was lightning.”

“I don’t need to ask Doc Pepperidge. I believe you.”

“You do?” She was stunned. Making him a believer had been so easy! She’d been preparing her next speech and she was mute now that she didn’t need it.

“I do. A woman who can’t stand to see anyone or anything abused would hardly kill a man in cold blood. Do you think I’ve learned nothing about you? The first quality that struck me about you was your kindness.”

“Please, don’t.” She shook her head, feeling unworthy because so many of her thoughts lately hadn’t been kind at all, but poisoned by revenge. “I’m not that kind.”

“Kind and gentle, that’s you.” He curled his fingers
under her chin and tipped it up until her gaze met his. “And you’ve been hurt. What beast hurt a sweet thing like you?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. It’s past … finished.” She saw the intention in his eyes, but couldn’t bring herself to protest or move away. A stronger force within her kept her his prisoner.

His hand slipped from her chin to the back of her neck. His fingertips moved against her nape, under her heavy chignon. Anticipation curled in her stomach and she released a sound that was half whimper, half sigh. Grandy groaned in answer and his mouth slipped over hers, wet and warm and wanting.

Zanna’s lids fluttered down. She waited for panic to boil in her belly and fill her with dread and disgust, but as Grandy’s mouth continued to pull and push she was filled only with wonder. She rested her hands lightly on his upper arms where muscles bulged. Zanna had never been kissed with such mastery before and she found herself caught in the spell of Grandy’s expertise. His mouth lifted briefly, then swooped down again when she’d drawn a breath. His arms stole around her waist and pulled her against him. Zanna felt his thigh part hers as he bowed her backward over his arm. His other hand came up to cradle her head.

Compromised, she thought as Theo’s words floated to her. If this wasn’t a compromised position, what was?

Striving for control, Zanna pushed out of Grandy’s arms and stood facing him, her breathing heavy and rapid. She swept tendrils of hair back from her temples, then ran her hands down her sides as she examined the man who could touch off such a firestorm of emotions within her.

He licked his full lower lip with the tip of his tongue, tasting her and starving for more, then turned aside, gathering in a deep breath and gingerly acknowledging the tumult in his chest and loins. Lord, she packed a punch!
He eyed her warily. Who would have guessed that Suzanna Hathaway could drive him wild with just one kiss? You’re craving female companionship, he told himself, but part of him scoffed at such a convenient excuse for being caught in her spell. He wanted to hold her again. He wanted to explore her mouth thoroughly and strip off her clothing so he could delight in the sight of her, but he could tell she wasn’t ready for his most naked, sexual self. So he clung to his gentlemanly veneer.

“Forgive me. I … lost control.” He shook his head, still amazed at how completely he’d been aroused by her.

“That’s all right. I—liked it.” She felt her eyes widen. Had she
said
that? Where in the world had she found the courage? Staring at him, she knew in that moment that
he’d
given her courage. “You’re very good at—it.”

“It.” He smiled. “Kissing?”

“Yes. Practice makes perfect and you surely are proof of that.”