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Deborah Camp (48 page)

BOOK: Deborah Camp
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“He was your brother and Jewel’s son, and that was enough reason for me,” Cassie told him. “Boone Rutledge was a murderer too, but nobody deserves the kind of neglect his grave gets. There wasn’t a flower on it this morning.”

“And I bet you put one there.”

Cassie felt her color heighten. “Well, it looked so forlorn …”

Rook laughed softly and crossed his arms against his chest as he slouched lower in the settee. “Cassie, you’re a wonder.”

She slipped down low on the settee too, crossed her arms at her waist, and looked around Jewel’s parlor. The furniture was all draped in sheets, making the once welcoming room seem ghostly.

“I reckon we won’t even recognize these two rooms by the time we get back from New Orleans,” she thought aloud. “I used to love to come in here and sit with Jewel. She always made me feel like a special visitor, and she catered to me like I was a princess.”

“Cassie, don’t go making yourself bawl again,” Rook grumbled.

“I’m not! I’m just ruminating.”

“Did you manage to keep your appointment at the mining company office?” he asked, changing the subject so that she wouldn’t get all teary over Jewel. Women! They had a knack for bawling binges.

“I did.”

“And?” he asked, looking sideways at her.

“And what?”

“Are you a rich woman?”

She gave a saucy grin. “Not rich, but well off.” She met his look. “A suitable match for an up-and-coming lawyer, I’d say.”

“I’d say so too. Of course, I thought you were suitable way before you found those diamonds.”

“Yes, but I’ll make you proud of me. I swear it! You won’t be ashamed of me—”

“Cassie,” he said, interrupting her, “don’t go on so! You can cuss a blue streak and wear a flour sack, and I’ll still be proud to call you mine.”

Cassie’s blue eyes brimmed and Rook threw up his hands in despair.

“I give up! You’re set on being a sob sister.”

“I won’t cry,” she promised with a laugh. “But you’re the sweetest man that ever drew a breath.” She could tell she’d embarrassed him, so she shifted her gaze toward the bedroom. “What were you doing in there?”

“Covering up the furniture. I’m going to move that bed to another room. We’re going to start off our married life with our very own bed, one that no one else has used.”
He stood up and held out his hands to her, pulling her up to her stockinged feet. “A bed is an important piece of furniture. Some would say the most important piece of furniture.”

“And I bet most of those who’d say that are men.”

He considered that for a few moments. “Yes, that’s a safe bet.” He walked backward, pulling her along with him until she’d crossed the threshold and now stood with him inside Jewel’s bedroom. “Would you believe that I was never allowed in here while Mama Jewel was in residence?”

“Never?”

“Never. The first time I entered this sanctum of sexuality was this very morning. Only paying—generously paying—customers were allowed in here with Jewel. She told me once that I was never to step foot in here. ‘It’s no place for children,’ she told me, although I was twenty at the time.”

Cassie grinned. “You’ll always be her baby boy.”

“Don’t I know it.” He rolled his eyes and turned around at the same time to examine the previously forbidden room. “You can’t imagine how much I wanted to come inside here and have a look around. It’s like at Christmas, when you know the presents are hidden in the hall closet but you’re told not to look. Ah, sweet temptation!”

“Does it look the way you dreamed it would?” Cassie asked. Then she gasped as realization dawned. “You know what? I’ve never been in here either! I’ve only looked at it from the threshold!” A feeling of excitement went through her. “Jewel was right finicky about who she let in, wasn’t she?”

“Right finicky indeed.” Rook laughed to himself. “You know what? This place looks pretty harmless, compared to what I thought it’d be like. I imagined red and ruffles, and I never dreamed I’d see
that
in here.” He pointed to a gold-leafed porcelain tub tucked into a corner of the room. “I guess she’s finicky about clean bodies too.”

Cassie blushed and turned away. “It’s hard for me to think about Jewel doing … well, you know. She was
never a whore in my eyes. She was … well, always motherly.”

“Many a young man found paradise in this room,” Rook said as he took a stroll around it.

“Hush, Rook.” Cassie made a face, showing her distaste.

“What’s wrong?” He laughed at her modesty. “I love Mama Jewel, but you can’t overlook how she made her living. It’s not so bad if you put it in the right context.”

“The right what?”

“The right …” He frowned as he searched for a better description. “You’ve got to think about it differently. Jewel and her girls performed a valuable service to the male community.”

“They sold themselves!”

Rook shook his head and held up an admonishing finger. “They were paid to deliver pleasure. Think of all the men who tasted forbidden fruit in the seclusion of these four walls.” He swept an arm through the air in front of him. “Imagine the moments of ecstasy experienced on that bed!”

“Rook!” Cassie’s eyes widened with consternation. “You shouldn’t talk that way—”

“Cassie,” Rook said, interrupting her, “we should be able to talk any way at all to each other.” He waited until he was certain she’d heard and absorbed this; then he reached for one of her hands and held it gently. “You’re right. When we come back from New Orleans, this room will be our bedroom and we will be Mr. and Mrs. Reuben Colton. Why don’t we seize the opportunity of being the last lovers to unite in the madame’s private quarters?”

“Rook, be serious!” Her lips parted in surprise. “You are serious.” What surprised her even more was her own liking of his idea. A smile curved her mouth. “I think you’re wicked.”

“But you love it,” Rook tacked on.

“I love you,” Cassie corrected him, pushing his striped suspenders off his shoulders. “Being bad feels awful good.”

“There’s nothing bad about what we’re doing.” His
mouth swooped down to hers and he hauled her closer, his hands cupping her hips. “I’ll be careful of your shoulder.”

Cassie unbuttoned his cotton shirt and pushed it down his arms. “It’s been awhile.”

“Too long.”

“I needed time to mend—body and spirit.”

“I know, honey.” He nuzzled her behind her ear and she laughed and shied away from the tickling sensation. He turned her around to get at the buttons down the back of her dress. “Women sure make it hard to unwrap them.”

“The best presents have the most wrappings,” Cassie recited. “Jewel told me that once, but I didn’t understand it till now.” She shimmied out of her underskirts and kicked them across the polished floor. “I remember when I swore I’d never let you lay a finger on me.”

“I knew better.”

“Hah! Liar, liar, pants on fire!”

“I knew I’d wear you down.” He freed the last button and ran his hands down her arms, sending the fabric ahead of them. “You’ve got the sweetest smelling skin I’ve ever nuzzled.” He dipped his nose into the curve of her neck like a bee diving into a blossom, then kissed the white bandage on her shoulder.

“You told me I was dirty and smelly once.”

“And you told me I was a stinking son of a bitch.”

Cassie turned around to face him, not resisting when he backed up to the bed and fell upon it with her in his arms.

“Did you know that you were the first man I’d ever seen without a stitch on? You were unconscious at the time and I told myself it was sinful to look upon you—”

“But you did anyway,” he said, feathering kisses across her collarbone.

“Yes. I couldn’t resist, just like Eve in the Garden of Eden.”

“And you thought I was a fine specimen.” Rook rained kisses along her throat and across her short, dimpled chin.

“I thought …” She stopped as they kissed ecstatically, mouth to mouth. “You were the most beautiful male creation I’d ever seen, and I still think it.”

“We’re going to be happy in this house,” Rook promised
as he pushed her dress over her hips and let Cassie kick it off the rest of the way. His desire for her flared through him like a shooting star. “I swear I’ll make you happy.”

“I’m happy already,” Cassie assured him. She unpinned her hair while Rook watched with the awe that men have for such things, things women see as mundane or routine. “And now,” Cassie said as she slid full length on top of him, “I’m going to make you happy.”

Rook smiled at her sultry voice and sparkling eyes. “I’m at your mercy, honey. I always have been.”

Deborah Camp is a freelance writer and editor. She specializes in writing for small business magazines.

The author of more than 40 titles, she has received the Janet Dailey Award (given to a romance novel that best addressed a social problem and was inducted into the Oklahoma Professional Writers Hall of Fame. She also received the Nightwriter of the Year Award, Tepee Award from OWFI for published fiction, and the Golden Certificate from Affaire de Couer.

Her personal motto is: “Don’t wait for your ship to come in – swim for it!” And she has lived by that all of her life.

BOOK: Deborah Camp
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