Dorothy Garlock (26 page)

“Callie . . . Callie, my sweet Callie. I’ll kill ’im if’n he touches ya!” Muttered words tumbled from his lips as he pressed fevered kisses along the soft skin of her throat and the beginning swell of her breast.

“He won’t touch me. I promise he won’t. I couldn’t bear it.”

Tenderly, he pushed the damp hair from her face and his heart swelled. He had never dared to hope, to dream of finding a woman like this.

“Yore not to worry, sweet Callie. He won’t be astayin’ long, ’n when he leaves he won’t be acomin’ back.”

“Oh, Will! No! You can’t—” She looked up at him with eyes wide and fearful.

“Shhh . . . I’ll not kill ’im,” he assured her. “What does Jason love more’n anythin’?”

“The only thing that Jason loves beside himself is money,” Callie said bitterly.

“Exactly.” He hugged her to him. “Forget ever’thin’, but me, sweet girl, ’n let me kiss ya some more, ’n tell ya how much I love ya.”

*  *  *

“I think he’s finally gone to sleep,” Annie Lash whispered and pulled a cover over Amos.

“Stubborn little scutter!” Jeff said teasingly. “I thought he was going to stay awake all night.”

“He’s not a scutter. He’s a darling little boy.”

“Maybe. But come here to me. He’s had your attention long enough.” He pulled her down onto his lap as soon as she reached him. “I never thought I’d be jealous of a little kid,” he growled, and kissed her soundly.

“Shhh. You’ll wake him and I want to talk to you.”

“What I want to do to you won’t make any noise at all,” he murmured against her cheek.

“Jefferson . . .” When he bent to kiss her again, she forestalled him, pressing her hand over his mouth, and slipped from his lap.

“Henpecked already,” he said with exaggerated weariness as he picked up the candle.

Arm in arm, they went through the dogtrot. At the door of his room, he stopped, looked at her for a moment, then entered and placed the candle on the mantle.

Long habits of propriety are hard to break, and Annie Lash stood hesitantly in the doorway. The room was small and neat. It had two single bunks attached to the walls, a washstand, a large trunk, and a wooden chest. She had been in the room before to hang Jeff’s clothes on the pegs fastened to the inner wall, but that was different. This was more . . . intimate.

There was a long moment of silence, dominated by the pounding of her heart. Jeff came to her; the flickering light from the candle played over the hard angles and planes of his face and added to the dark hue of his eyes. Annie Lash was conscious of the steadiness of his look. He took her hands. She backed away a little and stared up at him.

“You look so tired. Didn’t you get any sleep at all last night?” she questioned in a sensually soft voice.

Jeff let his fingers trace her hairline along her temple. He followed it to her cheekbone and rubbed his knuckles across her jaw.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone to worry about me,” he said softly.

“You’ve got someone now, Jefferson.” She felt the vibrations of her throat when she spoke. His hand was stroking the sensitive underside of her chin and jaw. “It was something Maggie said today that worried me. She said she came last night to warn Will about the men coming up the river to . . . kill you and him. Is it true?”

“Is that what’s taken the shine from your eyes?”

She gazed into his bronzed face, stamped with strength and the proud arrogance of self-assurance. A thin thread of panic ran through her. Oh, God, how could she bear it if something happened to him?

He read the haunting fear on her face and pulled her into his arms. She clung to him, her lips parting under the probing insistence of his. It didn’t matter that he was drawing away her strength, because he had enough for both of them. A tiny moan trembled from her throat. She couldn’t give herself up to his kisses just yet.

“Jefferson?” she whispered his name against his lips.

“Light sent the girl to tell us some men were coming upriver,” he told her.

“But don’t people come upriver all the time? Settlers come looking for land.”

“These men were in a canoe, traveling at night, and Light thought they were up to no good,” he explained patiently. “Will and I went down to head them off. They didn’t come up as far as the creek before they headed back downriver.” This was as much as he could tell her, he thought. Someday soon, he’d be able to tell her all.

“But, Maggie said they were going to—”

He stopped her words with small kisses. “Something she added to make her trip seem more important.”

“She’s a strange girl. Imagine coming through the woods at night like that. And, Jefferson, that old wolf-dog let her walk right up to him as if he knew her.”

He led her to the bunk and pulled her down beside him. “Long ago I gave up trying to understand people and accepted them the way they are. Light is different, too. He has a moral code all his own, one that he believes is right. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill if he thought a man was offensive and the world would be better without him. He wants no ties to hold him, gives loyalty but not love. I suspect the girl, Maggie, is a free-spirited creature, too.”

These precious new confidences were as heady to Annie Lash as his kisses. They talked together for an hour in the sweet surety of domestic intimacy.

“What do you think will happen when your brother gets here?” She lay across his lap and he rested his back against the wall. “Callie has never talked about him. It’s almost as if he didn’t exist.”

“I don’t know what will happen, sweethéart. A lot will depend on Jason’s attitude. Will is in love with Callie. I’ve never known him to be so angry and so full of hate. I can understand the way he feels, but there’s nothing I can do to help him.” His arms tightened and his lips moved across her cheek to her mouth. “The thought of another man having any right to you would drive all logic from my mind.”

The kiss took away her breath and her desire for any more conversation. She curved a hand around his neck, letting her fingers slide into the thickness of his hair. They strained together, hearts beating wildly, and kissed as lovers long separated. His hands roamed restlessly from her shoulders to her hips and up to the delicate white glimmer of her throat and cheek. He began to shake and his kiss became deeper, deeper, and she moved against him, seeking closer contact. He laid her down on the bunk and stretched his long length beside her.

His mouth broke free of hers, and as she gasped for air his lips descended to the hollow of her throat. She closed her eyes with pleasure as his lips trailed down to the neckline of her dress. When his fingers, trembling with uncertainty, moved to work on the buttons of her bodice, she covered his hand with hers, gently moved it aside, and her slender, experienced fingers took over. In a moment there was no barrier between her soft breasts and the large hand that cupped and caressed them.

His mouth moved to her breast and sensation after sensation washed over her. Her fingers stroked his hair and alongside his face, He seemed to take great pleasure in her caresses while his mouth intimately investigated the perfection of her nipple. A stifled moan of searing delight escaped her lips as he rolled his tongue around it and gently nibbled with his lips.

“You taste so clean and fresh.” His mouth formed the words against her flesh. The nuzzling bite of his teeth teased her skin, sending quivers along her spine.

“We . . . shouldn’t . . .”

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed against her breast, his voice thick and full of wonder. “Why shouldn’t we, sweetheart? I’ve been waiting for you forever. You’ll never be more mine than you are at this moment,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “Stay with me and let me show you how it is between a man and a woman.”

A sigh trembled through her. She framed his face with her hands. Thank you, God, she prayed silently, for giving me this happiness. “You’ll . . . have to show me how,” she whispered.

“Woman of mine.”

She wound her arms around his neck, inviting possession. He held her lovingly and pressed gentle kisses on her mouth. His breath quickened, like hers, as his kiss became suddenly fierce. Annie Lash’s reaction stimulated him and sent her own senses spinning. His urgent need communicated itself to her and there was an answering ache within her, exciting and overwhelming.

Abruptly, he left her. She opened her eyes to see him moving across the room toward the candle. Almost before she had time to sit up and swing her feet to the floor, he was there beside her in the darkness.

“Someday soon I’m going to see you, love you in the light of day, but now . . .” He knelt at her feet and lifted her foot in his hand, unlaced her shoe and removed it, then did the same with the other. Large, strong hands found her armpits and lifted her to her feet. He turned her until he was behind her, his mouth kissing the soft nape of her neck, his hands sliding the dress from her shoulders, pushing it down over her hips until it fell to the floor at her feet. She stayed his hands when he went to remove her shift.

“No,” she said shakily.

“What it is, sweetheart? Are you shy with me? Don’t be. I want to touch you, love you.” Ever so carefully, he pulled the pins from her hair. It fell to her waist in deep, soft waves. He ran his hands through it and spread it out along her back, then turned her around to face him, kissing her eyelids, the curve of her cheek, her mouth.

It was all right! This was
her
man, the other part of herself. Her hands were suddenly urgent on the lacings of his shirt, wanting to be closer to his flesh, wanting him. He moved away from her and pulled his shirt over his head. When his embrace enfolded her again, bringing her back against his warm flesh, only the thin fabric of her shift was between them. Her heart hammered loudly in her chest. A thread of fear ran through her. Would she find pain or pleasure in his arms? Nervous now, she turned her face away from him and buried it in his bare shoulder.

“You’re trembling.” Jeff’s face brushed against her silken hair, stirring from it the clean, tangy smell of vinegar water. He knew he must be gentle or her fear would destroy the moment, but it took an extreme amount of self-control to keep his arms from crushing her to him and his lips from savaging hers. He’d never had a woman who had not had another man and his heart swelled with love for this woman who would be his alone.

“Annielove,” he rasped, “I’m the man who loves you. This kind of love is not for taking, but for giving and sharing. We’ll not do anything until you’re ready.”

The tension and resistance went out of her body on hearing the whispered words, and her arms encircled his smooth and muscled waist. She felt the hard, manly, private part of his body against her when his hand cupped the cheek of her hips and drew her tightly against him. The whisper of a gasp escaped her as she leaned her head back upon his shoulder, spilling her hair over his arm. Trembling lips slackened and parted as his mouth possessed hers. A warm tide of tingling excitement flooded her. His hand caressed her, leisurely arousing her, stroking her breast, moving up and down her back and over her hips. Then he was lifting her up, cradling her in his arms, her hips pressed against the flat muscles of his bare stomach. The rounded curve of her breast rubbed against his sinewy chest. He carried her the few steps to the bunk, laid her atop the covers, and followed her down, a bare leg hooked over hers. His mouth opened on her lips in a hungry kiss, tongues met impatiently, passion raged voraciously within him, yet he held back, carefully easing the shift from her body until her breast, indeed, all of her glorious body lay naked and beautiful against him.

Annie Lash’s mind whirled giddily. Her hands slid around to the corded muscles of his back, trying to press him closer. She was shattered by the sheer pleasure of lying naked beside him, yet the pleasure had only begun, as she discovered under his roaming, caressing hands. Free from her fumbling uncertainty, her only wish now was to please, to satisfy, to give.

She reached out to explore his warm, hard flesh with trembling intensity, letting her fingertips find the masculine nipples and follow the line of fine golden hair down to his taut, flat stomach and beyond. She felt the tremor that shook him with each new caress, each new place on his body she explored. He reacted to it as if her hand was a torch being added to his already flaming desire. Her hand boldly found and caressed the rock hard part of him that pressed against her thigh. His sex was large, firm, and throbbing. She didn’t feel threatened by it. He groaned softly and his mouth broke free of hers.

“You were made to be loved and cherished.” His voice was husky, and rawly disturbed, like his deep, quivering breaths. He grasped her hand in his and moved it to his chest. “Sweet . . . I’ll not be able to wait much longer.”

“You don’t have to wait, darling. Oh, Jefferson . . .”

He gently nudged her thighs apart and stroked the inner part of them. Driven almost mindless by the hard tension gnawing within her, she moved her face over his skin, scented of clean lye soap and so solid to her touch. Annie Lash thought she was going to die of want when his hand moved up until it could go no farther and he knew without a doubt she was ready to receive him. The pleasure mounted so intently, she wondered wildly if she could stand it.

“So warm, so . . . wet, my Annielove. Do you want me, sweetheart? Do you want my loving inside you?” He held himself rigidly over her. His fingers moved in a stroking motion and she flinched. They moved again and she gasped, arching herself against him.

“Yes, yes . . . Oh, yes!” She rolled her head from side to side. She had never felt like this before. She had never known this heat radiating from the pulsing center where his fingers moved so skillfully. She whimpered aloud, and he was above her. Her body opened to him, needing him above all other things, welcoming the solid length of his maleness as if it were a part of her own flesh returned to her. He thrust harder, deeper, faster. There was a small hesitation, an instant of pain, and Annie Lash gasped for air. Then she felt him move inside her and there was no pain in this, only pain without. A new, higher level of need raced rampant through her. She felt as if she was being tossed to the highest treetops by a forceful wind and she clung to the man above her who was the source of the violent storm that was shaking her.