For the Roses (38 page)

He recognized the look. Her eyes always turned just that color when he kissed her. Passion had caused the reaction then. What was the reason now?

He thought he knew, but he was going to make her tell him anyway.

"What are you thinking about?" His voice was the deep, husky drawl of a Highlander.

"How beautiful you are," she whispered. "You are, you know. I thought you were handsome when I first met you, but now even looking at you makes my breath catch in the back of my throat." She couldn't believe she'd had the courage to tell him the truth, especially given the fact that he had been avoiding her all week long.

"I was also thinking that you've been avoiding me. Have you grown tired of me?" The question astonished him. He couldn't imagine why she would worry over such an impossibility.

"I could never grow tired of you. I think about you from the minute I wake up until the second I fall asleep. Hell, I even dream about you."

"You do?" she asked the question on a sigh.

"Yes, I do."

The caress had moved into his voice. She took another step closer. "I'll bet we think about the same things." Like kissing and holding each other and sharing our secrets and our dreams. His laugh was derisive. "I doubt it. You don't know much about men, do you?"

"I thought I did. I have four brothers. I usually know what they're thinking."

"Is that right? Do you really want to know what I'm thinking about right now?" She slowly nodded. Then she took another step toward him. "Yes, please. You've made me very curious."

"I'm thinking how hot you're going to be when I make love to you. I'm picturing you sprawled out on my sheets, your skin soft and golden, your hair wild and untamed, your mouth swollen and rosy because I've spent a long while ravaging it. Your eyes will be the color of blue they are right now. I'm thinking about that little sound you'll make in the back of your throat that makes me go crazy and get so hard I ache to be inside you. I'm thinking how wild and savage our lovemaking will be, and how you'll dig your nails into my shoulders when we're sealed together and I'm throbbing inside you, and how tight and wet you'll be. That's pretty much what I was thinking."

She couldn't seem to catch her breath. She was amazed she could still stand up. The erotic pictures he'd painted for her were making her knees weak.

He wasn't quite finished. He slowly unfolded his arms and said, "I won't be gentle. You won't want me to be. Understand me, Mary Rose. I'm going to have you, over and over and over again. Want me to go on?"

She couldn't manage to answer him. She felt as though he'd just set her on fire. She could feel her face burning and was suddenly in dire need of her fan or a drink of ice-cold water. She lowered her head so he wouldn't see how red her face was becoming. He would think she was embarrassed. She wasn't at all embarrassed, though, and that surprised her more than anything else. The man certainly had a way with words. He had been extremely blunt and completely honest with her. He deserved her honesty in return. She wasn't going to pretend she hadn't liked what he'd said to her. She thought a proper lady would probably turn around now and go running back to the house for safety. Perhaps that was the reason he wasn't holding her. He was giving her the freedom to decide if she was proper or not. His words had been lover's words and were not to be mocked but embraced, and she did exactly that.

She looked up at him, stared directly into his eyes, and whispered, "That's pretty much what I was thinking."

He looked arrogantly pleased with her. She closed the distance between them quickly. She stood between his feet, with her arms around his waist, and leaned into him.

"I'm wearing clothes in my thoughts and dreams though. What am I wearing in yours?" she asked.

"Me."

The single word flooded her mind with all sorts of erotic pictures. She became breathless thinking about the two of them in bed together without a stitch of clothing between them.

"Harrison, when you say things like… you make me feel…"

"Warm all over?"

"Yes," she whispered. "Warm all over. I'm being brazen admitting it, aren't I? I don't believe I'd act like this if any other man talked to me the way you just did."

"Hell, I hope not."

"You make me feel beautiful," she whispered with wonder in her voice.

"You are beautiful," he said. "You aren't brazen, sweetheart. You were being honest with me. You weren't telling the truth about thinking and dreaming the way I do though."

"How do you know I wasn't?" Lord, how she loved the rough timbre of his voice. It made her shiver all over with yearning.

"You don't have any experience to draw from to have such thoughts. You don't have any idea how good it's going to be between us."

She leaned back so she could look into his eyes. "Exactly how much experience have you had?"

"Enough."

He wasn't going to elaborate, and she decided not to pursue the matter. His past conquests were simply that. Past. The present belonged to her. Besides, she couldn't even think about Harrison making love to another woman without getting a sharp pain of anguish and jealousy.

"It hurts to think about you with another woman."

"I can't change the past for you. I never loved any of the women I took to my bed, and they certainly didn't love me. We used each other because we wanted the same thing."

"What did you want?"

"Physical gratification," he answered. "I'm not proud of my behavior. Using anyone the way I did was wrong. I had to grow up before I figured it all out, however."

She nodded so he would know she understood. "Cole and Travis and Douglas haven't quite grown up yet."

"How do you know they haven't?"

"The frequency of their trips to Hammond."

Harrison smiled. "You know about the house outside of town?"

"With the women? Of course. I've known for a long time. Adam explained everything to me. Now that you've explained what it could be like in bed with you, I believe I shall start having those same thoughts and dreams you have. I won't tell Adam about them though."

"Not what it could be like in my bed, what it will be like. I mean to have you, Mary Rose."

"You do?"

"I love you, sweetheart."

She was overwhelmed with joy. Tears welled up in her eyes, and all she wanted to do was throw herself into his arms and hold him close for the rest of her life. She hadn't realized how long she'd yearned to hear those words.

He wouldn't let her hug him. He held her by her shoulders and gave her a little squeeze so she would pay attention to what he wanted to explain to her.

"I want you to listen carefully. I love you, and I'm going to keep on loving you until the day I die. I want to spend the rest of my life protecting you and cherishing you. I have a tremendous amount of faith in you. I know that once you get past your anger, you'll realize we were meant to be together. It's inevitable. No man can ever love you the way I do. I want you to try to remember that when you're hating me. Remember too that I never, ever meant to hurt you."

"I don't understand what you're trying to tell me. I could never hate you."

"Ah, love, you will hate me," he promised. "I wish to God I could prevent the heartache you're going to have to endure, but I can't. It's out of my hands now."

She wasn't frightened by his dark prediction. He loved her. Nothing else mattered to her.

"You tell me you have faith in me, but you contradict yourself by suggesting I could ever hate you. I have far more trust in you than you have in me, Harrison. Nothing you have ever done, or will ever do, could make me hate you. I love you, more than I could ever have imagined was possible. With my love comes my complete trust. I don't give it easily. When I come to your bed, it will be with a loving heart. I'm not so weak-willed to love one minute and hate the next. I don't care what heartache awaits me. If you are by my side, I shall endure anything."

He gripped her shoulders tight. "Think long and hard before you give me your pledge of love. Understand and remember every word you just said to me. Then go and talk to your brothers. Hear what they have to say before you tell me you love me again."

She shook her head. "I don't need to talk to them. I already know what is in my heart. Nothing they can say will change the way I feel about you."

He was shaken by her trust in him. "You tempt me to damn the consequences. I need you, Mary Rose, and I know I can't continue to wait much longer. I won't ever force you. You're going to give yourself willingly to me. Don't dare tell me you love me again, for if you do, from that moment on, you will belong to me. I will not let you change your mind."

His hands moved to cup the sides of her face. His rough calluses against her skin emphasized the wonderful differences between them. She luxuriated in the power that radiated from him, the strength in his hands, the hardness in his body, the very way he towered over her. She didn't feel less because he had far more physical strength than she had. She gloried in all the amazing contrasts between them. She was his equal in all ways that mattered most to both of them. In her mind, and in her heart.

"I love you, Mary Rose."

The tenderness in his voice was testimony he had spoken from his heart. His thumb rubbed across her lower lip. She felt the warmth of his caress down to her toes.

"You are everything I could ever want in a mate, and so much more. I was drawn to your kindness and your strength and your pure heart. Go back inside now, before I forget my promise." His hands dropped to his sides. She understood completely what he expected her to do. He had given

her a way out because he wanted her to be certain. There could be no going back once she made her commitment to him.

Oh, yes, she understood. He didn't understand though. It was already too late, for her heart had already been given.

"I love you, Harrison."

He went completely still. She repeated her pledge.

"Dear God, Mary Rose. Do you understand that I…"

"I love you."

He pulled her into his arms. His hands cupped her backside, and he lifted her up tight against him until her pelvis was pressed against his groin.

She wrapped her arms around his neck. She began to tremble with anticipation, for his heat and strength enveloped her now. She loved the scent and feel of him against her, and dear God, if he didn't kiss her soon, she thought she would go out of her mind.

He waited until his hunger consumed him. And then he leaned down and began to make love to her with his mouth. His tongue stroked her lips, then sank deep inside to mate with hers. The taste of her intoxicated him. His mouth became more demanding, slanting over hers again and again until he became wild with his own pulsating need. There was only Mary Rose, the passion of his life, the love for eternity. He wrapped himself in her softness and believed he'd reached heaven. The hot, wet, open-mouthed kisses became more urgent because her uninhibited response drove him on.

She couldn't seem to get enough of him. She wanted to touch and stroke him everywhere. His arousal was cuddled between her hips. She could feel his hardness pressed against her and began to instinctively rub against him.

The temptation to go further was beginning to override all other considerations. Harrison suddenly realized his jeopardy. And hers. If he didn't stop now, he would take her virginity in the backyard. God help him, the thought didn't repulse him.

He abruptly pulled away from her. His breathing was ragged and choppy. Every nerve in his body screamed out for fulfillment. He shuddered in reaction to the raging need coursing through him and clenched his jaw tight as he desperately tried to mentally distance himself from her. She felt as though her anchor had just been ripped away from her. Her strength deserted her, and she collapsed against him, shaking with her own need.

She wanted him to put his arms around her again and hold her close.

"Go back inside."

The harshness in his command cut through her haze of desire. She tried to understand. "Inside? I don't

want to leave you. Please kiss me again. I love you, Harrison. I want you to hold me."

"Go back inside."

He wasn't asking her to leave, he was telling her to. She took a deep breath and slowly pulled her arms away from him.

She was confused by the sudden change in him. Had she done something wrong, and if so, what?

She wasn't in any condition to try to figure anything out now. She would have to wait until later, after her heart had stopped pounding so frantically and she could catch her breath without panting, and then she would think things through.

He wasn't going to have to tell her to leave him alone again, however. As dazed as she was, she still fully understood what the wordno meant, even when it came masked as a command. She turned around and started walking back to the house. Irritation and frustration didn't catch her until she was halfway to her destination.

It was damned rude of him to be so abrupt in his dismissal, wasn't it? Would it have killed him to tell the woman he loved why he'd been in such a hurry to stop kissing her?

She thought he was behind her. "You're as moody as your horse," she muttered loud enough for him to hear.

He didn't respond to her barb. She turned around to repeat her insult and realized then he couldn't possibly have heard her. He was going in the opposite direction.

"Where are you going?" she called out.

"To bed."

It was late, but not that late. "Aren't you coming back to the house tonight?"

"No."

"Good night then."

He didn't return her farewell. She waited another minute, and when he reached the entrance of the bunkhouse and pushed the door open, she ran out of patience.

"Good night," she shouted. She silently added the wordsdamn it . He finally turned around and looked at her. "Mary Rose?"

His voice was forceful enough to lift her off the ground.

The fanciful, impossible notion made her smile. "Yes?"

"Don't keep me waiting."

May 4, 1867

Dear Mama Rose,