Lady Fugitive (20 page)

"I'm not. But I want you to finally
accept that he's gone. He can't answer your charges or defend himself. He can't
order you around, can't hurt you anymore. He's
dead
."

"Yes, and I only wore black because
my father made me. I hated Cletus. Hated that I'd ever been forced to live with
him."

"Then why do you still?"
Morgan asked quietly. She sucked in a gasp, clearly surprised. "You're wed
to me, but still living with Cletus. You still fear you'll be beaten. You're
still afraid of letting your husband know what's in your heart. I may have
manipulated you into this union, but you haven't given me or the marriage a
fair chance."

She turned tormented eyes to him.
"It's not just Cletus. There's so much in my past that can hurt us! I
don't want to hurt you. I don't want to lose another child. God, not
your
child! I couldn't take that. This time it would kill me."

Not your child
.
I couldn't take that...it would kill me
.

Morgan closed his eyes and opened them
again to make certain he wasn't dreaming. Rachel was huddled with her back
against the cabin wall, crying softly. She'd just confessed what he'd been
aching to hear. Selling his granary, chasing her down in London, forcing her to
become his wife—it had all been worth it. She loved him.

"Love, listen to me." He
gently shook her until she met his gaze. "It's different when I kiss you
and touch you, isn't it?"

"Yes," she admitted.

"Then the rest can be different,
too. Don't you see that? Sweetheart, I'll teach you everything about loving.
I'll never beat you like he did. And should God grant us a child, I'll have the
doctor to the cottage. Every day, if that's what it takes to ensure you and the
baby are well. I'd never leave you to face childbirth alone. I'd help you
through it, I swear." He pressed his signet against hers. "On my
family's name and my honor, I swear, Rachel."

"I should have told you long ago
I'd fallen in love with you," she confessed sadly. "You probably
won't believe it now. But I do love you, Morgan." 

His voice was thick with emotion.
"How could I disbelieve it? You couldn't be so distraught if this didn't
mean the world to you. But it was important to hear you say the words." 

"I love you."

His hand caressed her damp cheek.
"I swear I only want the best for you. I love you more than life itself.
You told me back in London that I could work miracles because I'm the
Bargainer. Then accept that you're meant to love me and bear my child, because
I will it."

"You're bullying me again."

His eyes burned into hers. "You're
damned right, I am. Find the courage to love me back and be my wife. I know you
have it in there. I've seen the strength of your inner courage. Love me, and
let me love you."

"Do you think it's possible I had
to go through all the horror and misery to find you? I've wondered about that.
Maybe everything had to happen exactly the way it did, even boarding that stage
in Carson City—just so I'd have to go to England and meet you. There's
something else I should tell you." 

He abruptly rolled and trapped her body
beneath his. "You've told me more than enough tonight. Whatever it is can
wait, but I can't. Let me show you what I should have the first time, on our
wedding night. No more talk."

Her protests were lost in the
overwhelming passion and tenderness he poured over her. His hands stroked her
everywhere, his lips nibbled and tasted. "Let it go, Rachel. Just love
me."

He peeled the bedclothes down, knowing
the heat of his blood and extra coal in the stove would keep her warm enough.
"This is your first lesson about pleasure. It won't hurt. If it does, just
tell me to stop. Close your eyes."

His lips met hers, teasing them apart,
and again he was thrilled by her eager response. Her tongue thrust into his
mouth and mated with his. Morgan groaned. He'd never enjoyed kissing any woman
the way he did Rachel. "Now where?" he asked.

"My shoulders."

His tongue lingered, warm and pliant on
her left shoulder, then slowly traced across her throat and collarbone to her
right. "And now?" came his soft question.

"Wherever I'd least expect
it."

"An excellent answer, from the
wench who's going to prove to be my best pupil."

Her eyes flew open. "You've taught
other women about this?"

"Numerous," he chuckled. That
jealous gleam was back in her eyes, and he doubted she'd even noticed the
thunder had abated. "None had any complaints about my schooling. Of
course, none of them were hearty, stubborn Colonials and none were married to
me at the time. I shall have to put extra effort toward my instruction tonight.
After all, these lessons are meant to last a lifetime."

He'd never let her annul the marriage,
Morgan inwardly vowed. Not after what she'd told him and what he'd seen in her
eyes. Not when he loved her to distraction. "Close your eyes," he reminded.
"Trust me."

His wet mouth came down on a bare ankle.
She twitched and giggled, but soon the sounds became whimpers as his tongue
moved to her inner thigh. His hands slid to her hipbones. He held her pelvis
gently but firmly and began to lick and kiss the sensitive flesh of her lower
abdomen. "I remember you especially seemed to like this." His tongue
explored the well of her navel. She would have come off the mattress if he
hadn't been holding her down.

"My breasts now," she moaned.
He released her pelvis and she wantonly arched her back, offering him her ripe
mounds. He cupped her breasts in both hands and began to work the nipples with
his thumbs. She released a fresh moan of pure unabashed enjoyment.

"The day the sailors were here, the
young one put his hands on my breasts like that."

Morgan went still. "I told you not
to think about that day. And don't offer any more graphic details. They'll only
make me want to drown those two rats in the hold, if this storm doesn't do it
for me."

"You don't understand. The sailor
pinched my nipples, but he couldn't make them harden and ache. Yet while you
were sick, you slept with your head on my chest. Just having your face so
close, feeling your breath on my skin, my nipples were like pebbles. I wanted your
mouth on them, even though you were ill. It's wicked and only with you. I never
had wild thoughts like that before."

"You're making it quite a challenge
for your teacher to keep his excessive lust in check. Please be quiet! I'm
supposed to make you hot now. Later comes your turn to tease me."

"Ooh, I like that." She smiled
up at him, that certain warm smile that always fired his blood. The smile he
knew she bestowed on him and no one else. Despite her trepidation, she'd
married him. She loved him. And he'd explode soon if he couldn't get to loving
her. Intensely and thoroughly.

He suckled at each stiff nipple in turn.
She writhed and whimpered so loudly Morgan was grateful for the fierce winds
and driving rain, else the sailors would have had an earful. He had to rest a
palm on her belly to still her. His fingers moved into the triangle of dark
auburn curls at the juncture of her thighs and found her already slick and
swollen.

His mouth returned to hers. Their
tongues met and rubbed in a slow, sensuous dance. Morgan couldn't restrain the
low animal sounds coming from his own throat. He was supposed to be stimulating
her, but damned if it wasn't wreaking havoc on him!

His palm pressed firmly to her mons, he
circled her woman's pleasure center with his thumb. Rachel caught her breath
and clutched at his shoulders. "Oh, God! Can a woman die from this? I
don't know if I can take this." 

"You won't die, Colonial. In
another minute or two, you'll find out how very much alive a woman can
be."

"I can't take another minute or
two!" She bucked and sobbed. With his free hand, he reached to tweak a
stiff nipple. "Morgan, stop! No, don't...I...Oh!"

Waves as powerful as those off the bow
crashed over Rachel, spinning her in an eddy of swirling sensation. A deep throbbing
pulsed from somewhere deep inside her. She gasped for every precious breath of
air, but at last her racing pulse began to slow. She lay uncaring and limp,
dimly aware that Morgan had stopped touching her. 

Maybe she'd failed the training lesson.
He wasn't kissing her or saying a word. She hoped he wasn't angry. After all,
she tried. She'd given herself over to him, trusted him completely and done
what he'd asked. Kept her eyes closed, kissed him back, let him work his magic
on her…

Magic!

Her eyes flew open. Morgan lay on his
side, a broad grin on his face. She flung her arms around his neck and began
wildly kissing his cheeks, his chin, his mustache, his lips. "That was it,
wasn't it? The magical thing."

"You tell me."

She realized she felt wonderful. As he'd
said, very much alive. "If I'd known how it would feel...God, I want you
to make love to me a dozen times every night!"

"I doubt even the notorious rake of
Crowshaven could manage that on a regular basis," he chuckled, "But
I'm willing to give it my best efforts. Now for the second part of our
lesson—"

"I know this part. My turn
now." She reached to stroke his engorged shaft.

His eyes closed and he sucked in his
breath as her fingertip lightly circled the head of his shaft. She caressed and
lightly massaged his length. Morgan groaned and clutched at the thin mattress
with both hands as her fingers kneaded the root where it met his manly pouch.
"I'll embarrass myself if you keep that up. Too stimulating watching you
before."

He sat up suddenly on the edge of the
bunk, both feet planted on the floor as he reached back toward her. "Come
sit on my lap. Show me what a horsewoman you are. Take me in and show no
mercy." She eased onto his thighs, facing him, and poised herself above
his loins.

He reached for her hips as if to guide
her, but she stopped him. "Oh no, you don't. Close your eyes and trust
me."

She crushed her breasts against him and
kissed him with all the passion in her soul. She moved back to rub her nipples
over the light furring on his chest. Upward, as she trailed her tongue under
his chin. Downward, as she nipped at his earlobe. "Christ! No more
teasing," he panted. "Take me inside, please. Tell me you love me
again. I need you and the words."

She slowly lowered herself on his pulsing
shaft until she was fully impaled. Both of them moaned in ecstasy. He wrapped
both arms around her waist and rocked his hips. Rachel wanted to give him
sexual joy, but she felt her own arousal building again toward another
shattering crest.

"You feel so damned good, woman! I
don't think I can last much longer. Want it better than before, but—"

 "Don't think," she panted.
"Just feel it, my love, our bodies. Burn and tingle and nearly die because
of me. Loving you with every inch of my body. I love you, husband."

Rachel drove him on, rocking, grinding,
pushing them both toward the place of sweet fulfillment. His shout drowned out
her soft cries as he erupted violently inside her. She collapsed against his
shoulder then, both of them spent and quivering.

Finally she lifted her head. "I was
very naughty just now, almost like one of Sheila's girls. I look like one,
sitting atop you like this."

Morgan frowned. "I'm bound to
regret asking, but just how would you know what the whores looked like whilst
plying their trade?"

"I told you, I stayed at the
brothel during the summers when I was young. I wasn't supposed to know what
went on upstairs. So of course, I sneaked up and peeked through the keyholes. I
definitely prefer doing to watching." The corners of her lips curved up.

He pivoted and pinned her beneath him on
the mattress. His shaft was still buried inside her. He pumped lean hips in a
slow gyration. "Don't smile at me that way, or you'll have me truly believing
you like rutting with your husband."

Her lips formed an even wider smile.

He grinned right back. "Now that
you have a better idea what I'm asking, name your pleasure, Madam
Tremayne."

"My husband, Morgan. He's the
greatest pleasure of my life."

Rachel's cries echoed in the darkness.
She fought the powerful arms that held her. They closed around her as the
somber marshal read the formal charge from his tattered arrest warrant. The
deputy was huge, implacable. He wrestled her into an empty cell. The iron door
clanked shut. "No, it's a mistake! Why won't you listen to me?"

Someone was calling her. A voice she
knew. She whipped her head from side to side. "Jonas, is that you? You
have to help me! Please get me out of this!" 

"Rachel, wake up!" Someone
shook her.

She opened her eyes and found Morgan
peering at her, holding the burning stub of a candle over the bunk. "You
were having a nightmare."

"Yes, I must have—I'm sorry, I'm
still a little unsettled." She rose onto her knees, unaware she was stark
nude as she reached to wrap her arms around his neck.