Her Wyoming Man (12 page)

“Must have been quite a trip.” Smiling, Nathan stepped behind her. “Stand up and I’ll get those buttons for you.”

She did as he asked, and he worked them loose, inching his way down her spine until the back of the dress gaped open. “Do you know what that glass you’re holding is called?”

She glanced at the tulip-shaped stemmed glass with its delicate bowl that narrowed at the top. “I don’t know.”

“A
copita,
” he told her.

“Spanish? Where did you learn that?”

He grinned and then leaned to fill her glass again. “From the salesman in Denver who sold them to me. What kind of girls’ school teaches young ladies about wine?”

“We got a very well-rounded education at Miss Haversham’s.”

“Obviously.” He stepped close to kiss her neck. “Did they ever warn you that men might ply you with spirits and then try to seduce you?”

Chapter Fifteen

T
his was a side of him she’d never seen before. Playful.
Seductive.
Starting where his lips touched, a tingling shiver of delightful warmth spread across her shoulders to her breasts, and they tightened. “Of course I was warned.”

She finished the rest of the liquid in her glass and set it aside so she could drape one arm around his shoulder and bring herself closer to him. “Do you think it will rain?”

He frowned in puzzlement for only a moment. “You’re not afraid of storms, are you?”

She shook her head and smiled.

“I couldn’t take my eyes off you this evening.” He kissed her collarbone, and her eyelids fluttered closed. He inhaled against the skin at her throat, as though absorbing her essence, and touched his tongue against her neck, followed by an openmouthed kiss.

Ella feared she would melt into a puddle of sheer pleasure.

Nathan straightened. Slowly and deliberately, he grasped the fabric of her bodice and peeled it outward. She slid her arms out of the openings. Kneeling, he held her gown so she could step out of it. He straightened and draped it half over the bench, half on the floor without concern, then turned back to step behind her and search the waist of her half petticoat for the drawstring. He tugged the bow loose and inched the eyelet and lace down over her hips, not bothering to pick up the garment after she kicked it away. It lay in a stiff heap.

She couldn’t have been more surprised at this turn of events or his obvious intent. Nor, if this was leading where she thought it was, could she have been more delighted. Yes, she wanted to consummate their marriage and seal herself to him, but she also craved his touches and had thought about their last amazing encounter for weeks.

Afraid to do anything that would stop him or call a halt to this moment, she rested her palms against his chest, testing his response to her touch.

He caught her hair and moved it aside, so he could gently brush his fingertips over her shoulder. He leaned in and tilted his head to kiss her. The rush of exhilaration she derived from his kiss was beyond words.

She’d never anticipated her fascination with his caresses. Until now a man’s touch had been a means to an end. A job to perform to the best of her ability and without commitment or connection to the person. Her countless new surprising physical and emotional reactions were frightening, because she had everything to lose if this marriage didn’t work out.

He straightened and looked at her this time, his gaze taking in her eyes, mouth and her hair as though he found her responses surprising, as well. He took a step back, separating them, and though they no longer touched, electricity crackled between them.

Daring to make a move, she reached for the buttons of his shirt and unfastened them. He lifted his hand to turn his wrist inward and remove his cuff link. The other cuff followed and he set the gold studs beside their glasses on the dressing table before turning her by one shoulder and reaching for the clasp of her necklace. “You have very nice jewelry. Gifts from admirers?”

Without replying, she turned back to part his shirt and peel the cotton away. He shrugged out of it, and his skin glowed in the lamplight. He sat on her bench to remove his shoes and stockings, then patted the seat between his thighs, indicating she should rest her foot there.

She did so, balancing herself by touching his bare shoulder as he untied the satin laces of her kid boot and removed it. Meanwhile, she appreciated the sight of his broad muscled shoulders and well-sculpted hair-dusted chest.

Running both open hands up her leg and under the hem of her pantaloons, he found her garter and unfastened her stocking. With a quick upward glance at her face, he rolled the stocking downward until he could tug it from her foot and drop it.

She shifted her weight and offered the other shoe and stocking, which he disposed of in the same slow, efficient manner. This time, he hooked a hand behind her knee, preventing her from lowering her leg, and sensuously caressed her calf. He slid his touch higher, skimming her thigh. Ella’s heart sped up, and she remembered the way he’d made her feel that night she’d lain in his bed with thunder rumbling and lightning streaking the bedclothes with jagged illumination.

She caught her breath and locked her gaze with his. The dark shadows of his eyelashes drifted down once. Twice. He held her gaze, but he swallowed, and in that moment she recognized his own uncertainty. His first wife hadn’t been happy with her life. Had she been unhappy with Nathan specifically—or with the physical aspect of their marriage? Ella wished she didn’t know about men with unhappy wives, but the income those kind of men generated had kept their parlor house in excellent repair and provided food and clothing no one else in Kansas could afford.

Ella immediately recalled Athena Lawrence’s complaints about life here in Sweetwater. Nathan had been unable to look at Carl after his wife’s comments. Athena’s discontent had obviously disturbed Nathan, because right after that he’d taken Ella aside. He identified with Carl Lawrence’s plight because Deborah hadn’t been happy, either.

Had Nathan’s hesitation or his determination to extend their courtship been based on fear of taking a wife who wasn’t happy with
him?

Knowing him as she did, she didn’t think he’d be like plenty of other men who sought a welcome elsewhere, claiming their wives were cold or unwilling. He’d honored his wife and his vows and lived faithfully in an unhappy marriage.

What did he have to be uncertain about now, other than his concern over displeasing her? His concern humbled her to the point of strong emotion that welled up and filled her chest with an uncomfortable, but exquisite burning sensation. She wanted to reassure him.

“I did have a few admirers back where I came from,” she admitted. “But I chose to travel here. And to marry you.”

His focus drifted to her hands as she brought them to the front of her corset and unfastened the hooks with little popping sounds. He continued to watch after she’d let it fall and tugged on the satin ribbon that held her chemise closed. The style she wore had no buttons, and she crossed her arms over her chest and grabbed the hem to pull it off over her head.

His eager hands were immediately there to help her.

The garment dangled from his fingers for a moment before falling onto the growing heap of discarded clothing.

The cool air that touched her breasts felt good, but after removing the constrictive corset her rib cage itched. She rubbed the tender skin that was covered with indentions, and his dark gaze followed.

“It itches?” he asked.

“Something fierce.”

He replaced her hands with his rougher palms, and she expelled a sigh that turned into a purr of contentment.

The lamplight created tantalizing shadows in the hollows and swells of his muscled chest, so when he looked at her body, she imagined he had much the same reaction to the sight of her.

“You are so beau—”

She pressed her fingers against his lips. “Don’t say it. Please. Don’t tell me I’m beautiful.”

“But you—”

“No,” she said forcefully. “Beauty means nothing.
Nothing.
I can’t help the way I look. I have no control over that and it says nothing about me. Tell me I’ve done a good job with the children or that I know more about French explorers than anyone else you know, but don’t praise my appearance.”

He gave her a curious glance. “What kind of woman are you?”

She shook her head and forced a hoarse reply. “Just a woman who wants to be with you tonight.”

His eyes darkened with passion. He brought his hands up under her breasts, and she melted beneath his touch. With his thumb, he grazed one peak in a back-and-forth motion that made her catch her breath.

“You have the best French accent I’ve ever heard,” he said. If he was teasing her, she didn’t care.

“Have you heard many?”

“No.” He leaned forward and kissed her, all the while continuing the maddening caress. “You
are
good with children, and you put people at ease as soon as they meet you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. The women look a little intimidated at first, but as soon as you speak and ask questions about them, they warm right up to you.”

“No, I mean about the children.”

“You’re a natural.” He kissed her again, and she looped both arms around his neck to hug him soundly.

He folded her against him, and then tucked both hands under the twin swells of her buttocks. He spoke against her lips. “Ella, do you know what we’re doing?”

“I know.”

“Did they teach young ladies about the physical aspect of marriage at Miss Haversham’s?”

“You can’t disappoint me, Nathan. Nothing will happen that I don’t want to happen. I want you. I like the way you make me feel. It’s real and it’s honest, and I’ve never felt this way before.”

He urged her until the backs of her knees touched the mattress, and she fell backward onto the bed. He followed and moved his mouth to her breast.

A dizzying rush of pleasure consumed Ella, and she arched upward, her heart pounding, eager for his touch, hungry for the way he made her feel. Part of her was afraid of the feelings she’d never before experienced—had never allowed. And part of her rejoiced in the joyful freedom of holding nothing back. When his hot mouth sent shivers coursing through her, she closed her eyes and relished the sensations.

“I ache for you, Ella,” he said, holding himself taut above her. “It’s a need like nothing I’ve ever felt before, but I won’t do anything that doesn’t please you.”

“I don’t think you could do anything that doesn’t please me,” she answered breathlessly. “I’m pretty certain we’ll both be pleased.” She grasped his shoulder. “Not like last time.”

“No, not like last time,” he agreed. He dropped his head and nipped at her skin, kissing, nipping, making his way across her shoulder, her breast.

Ella locked her arm around his neck and forced him up to kiss her. They clung together and rolled to one side, where she worked her arm between them to unfasten his trousers and reach for him, thick and swollen.

A firestorm of emotion and sensation burst inside Nathan at her eager touch. He kissed her with all the longing and passion he’d denied himself for so long. Yes, he was impatient to make love to her, but even more eager to please her. He groaned her name against her chin…her neck…her ear….

“Do you want to prevent a child?” she asked softly.

The question caught him off guard. She was full of surprises, this woman. “How do you know about such things, Ella?”

“Well, I—I asked one of the married women a few questions.”

He couldn’t in a million years imagine Deborah ever doing such a thing. But Ella had wanted to come to him prepared. The gesture touched him deeply. “No,” he replied. “I would welcome a child.” He cleared his head enough to ask, “And you?”

She looked at him in surprise. “You’re asking what I want?”

“Of course. You would be the one carrying an infant inside your body—the one giving birth and nursing a baby. You should be able to decide if you’re ready for that. Or—if you ever want that.”

He wasn’t certain if the sheen in her eyes was simply a reflection from the lamp or if his words had brought high emotion. “I would be proud to have your baby and incredibly happy to nurture him or her.” She laid her hand alongside his cheek. “Come to me now, Nathan,” she urged. “Please come to me. Don’t hold back.”

He kissed the lips she raised to his. She was everything he could ever hope for, and he no longer had reason to resist. She’d made her wishes extremely clear, and he wasn’t going to disappoint her.

His touch found her slick and hot. He eased himself over her, and she accommodated his weight, welcoming him, helping him…she caught her breath and he hesitated. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Don’t stop,” she said against his shoulder. “Don’t…stop. There’s very little pain.”

Burning with a painful need, he sank into her taut heated flesh, barely able to resist the ecstasy that swept through him and threatened to carry him away. But she pulled him close and wrapped herself around him in a way that made fire lick at his belly. All thoughts became incoherent. He lost himself in the sounds she made and the mesmerizing scents and sensations of their joining.

When she caught him around the neck and held her breath, he took his time, focused on maintaining and elongating her pleasure. Just as he thought he couldn’t bear the delay another second, she gasped. Picking up the rhythm, he rocked against her until she cried out, and he followed her over the edge.

Nathan rolled beside her, trailing one hand across her abdomen to rest at her hip.

She lay on her back, her hair fanned across the pillow in a shiny golden skein, her breasts rising and falling as her breathing settled into a normal pattern.

Rolling her head to face him, she met his eyes. For a moment, his stomach felt as though he was perched on the edge of a precipice, ready to fall…. He couldn’t bear it if she was embarrassed or humiliated or disgusted. His chest ached from not taking a breath. But then her lips parted and she smiled. A smile meant just for him. A lover’s smile.

Something warm and wonderful blossomed near his heart. Something like hope.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” she said.

He was thinking she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes upon, but she didn’t want to hear that. “I’m thinking I’m the most fortunate man on earth. The night we met you didn’t know me from any of the others who asked for your hand in marriage. You had no idea what you were walking into, but you accepted my proposal. I don’t know why. I can’t fathom your reasoning. But I’m the man you chose.”

She rolled to lay her palm against his cheek and look into his eyes. “You didn’t know me, either.”

“I know you’re generous and kind. You don’t really trust people, but you give of yourself anyway. Some of your actions puzzled me at first, but I see now that you’ve been working to make yourself belong and fit in.”

Her frown created a little crease between her eyes. “I don’t fit in.”