Marshal of Hel Dorado (42 page)

 
    
Perfect.

 
    
He sighed. “Scarlett, I have all these
grand intentions.”

 
    
“To court me,” she grinned. “I know, Micah
explained it.”

 
    
He was going to have to kill his brother.
Sam exhaled a slow breath, inching forward until she was in arms reach, but
keeping his hands to himself. He settled his feet on the sandy bottom. Glad for
the clear water that let him see what he was stepping on, and even more for
what it revealed of her slender feminine form. He let his gaze wander to the
juncture between her thighs. The smooth as a baby’s bottom juncture.

 
    
Frowning, he edged closer and Scarlett
watched him with a mixture of anticipation and wariness. “What’s wrong?”

 
    
“I thought there would be red curls,” he
was disappointed and not in the same breath. He stretched his hand out and
touched the soft dimple of flesh. He rubbed his thumb over the soft mound, not
daring to go deeper. Scarlett gasped at the intimate touch, but curiosity
pounded his temples.

 
    
“I had some, for a while.” She confessed it
in such a small voice, as though he were going to be disappointed and Sam
lifted his gaze to hers.

 
    
“What happened to them?”

 
    
Her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. “I
think I burned them off.”

 
    
Sam laughed. It was such an odd
conversation and yet so normal at the same time. He spanned his hand over the
flat curve of her belly, and further still until he touched the bandage.

 
    
The water lapped at their hips teasing them
together and then apart.

 
    
“How is your wound?”

 
    
“It doesn’t even really hurt anymore.”
Scarlett brushed her hand over the cluster of green and yellow bruises along
his rib cage.

 
    
“It’s okay,” he dipped down to murmur in
her ear. “You can touch me. I don’t mind.”

 
    
Her fingers were tentative as they spread
out against his chest. Her eyelashes fluttered up and down, green gaze fixed on
his abdomen, ribs and chest. She was killing him, one butterfly touch at a
time. Still, he forced himself to wait, to let her get used to it. He shaped
his hands over her hips, their roundness both appealing and welcoming. Her legs
were composed of supple muscles and demonstrated her strength.

 
    
A groan tore out of his throat as he
recalled the way they’d locked around his hips in the cave.

 
    
“Sam?” The question in her voice tugged him
back to the exquisite reality.

 
    
“Yes?”

 
    
“That wasn’t a gun poking me that night on
the way to the Flying K, was it?”

 
    
His eyebrows climbed at the question and he
followed her glance down to his cock. Even in the balls-aching cold of the
water, he was swollen with arousal. He chuckled. “No, I’m afraid not.”

 
    
Scarlett lifted her wide, clearly uncertain
gaze to his and Sam wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him.
It was both pleasure and pain for his cock as it nestled into the soft warmth
between her thighs. The chill in the water fled as heat bubbled to the surface.

 
    
Keeping his voice steady, he stroked his
hand along her bare back, teasing himself with the thought of kissing his way
down her throat to those full breasts. “You okay?” He wanted her focused and
confident, not afraid. “Nothing has to happen.”

 
    
The cold water washed away from them, steam
rising lazily from the surface.

 
    
“I want something to happen.” Scarlett
clapped a hand over her mouth as she blurted out the words. Sam laughed,
pulling her closer and kissing each finger caging her beautiful lips.

 
    
“We have all night, minx. And every night
afterwards, don’t be afraid.”

 
    
“I’m not afraid.” But the surge of almost
uncomfortable heat in the water belied her words and he nibbled past her
fingers to kiss her cheek and tugged her through the water, abandoning the hot
spot for a cooler, deeper water.

 
    
Her stiff muscles went lax as he circled
the earlobe with his tongue, teasing the soft flesh.

 
    
A tiny moan slipped from her lips and he
grinned. “Better?”

 
    
“Oh, yes.”

 
    
“Good.” He apologized mentally and then
gave her a little heave, sending her head first into the icy cold center of the
stream. She came up sputtering, color flaring in her cheeks that had nothing to
do with the chill. He shook his finger at her. “Uh uh. You’re still a little
scared and you’re definitely not as comfortable as you’re pretending.”

 
    
“How can you know that?” She demanded.

 
    
“Look at the water.” Sam pointed to the
bubbles that streamed upwards, exploding steam into the air. “I want you
Scarlett. I want to kiss every delicious inch of you. I want to touch your
breasts, caress them and tease them and I want to taste your lips as I slide
inside of you until I can go no further. I want to bury my cock in your heat
and fill you with every part of who I am.

 
    
But, I’m not doing any of that until you’re
ready.”

 
    
He deserved sainthood for turning away from
her. He forced his legs to walk. Every step assaulted by agonizing need. He
wanted her.

 
    
He wanted her to want him.

 
    
No fear.

 
    
No reservations.

 
    
No regrets.

 
    
She hit him full force, her slender body
wrapped around him and carried them both forward into the shallows. Sam
twisted, wet skin sliding against his and braced her so that he landed on the
soft streambed. Scarlett straddled him, taking advantage of the position and
glared at him.

 
    
“You said: no more walking away.”

 
    
He opened his mouth and she swatted him,
wet fingers stinging his chest, but the water stayed cool. His flesh was
unmarred.

 
    
“You said we ride it out. We stick together.
We
trust
!”

 
    
He waited for a pause in the tirade before
lifting his brows at her. “Done?”

 
    
Her petulant little mouth puckered and then
she huffed, settling her weight onto his lap, trapping his cock against the
soft, silken folds of her sex. He dug his hands into the streambed, forcing
himself not to move, not to breathe too deeply.

 
    
She really did want to kill him.

 
    
“Micah told me I just had to let you know I
was interested. I thought I was doing that.”

 
    
He counted to ten and jerked a hand free to
catch her hips as she shifted against him. Her virginity was in a precarious
enough position as it was.

 
    
“Scarlett, exactly what did Micah say to
you?”

 
    
“He said you came to the mountain to court
me. That you liked me. That you were courting me on the way back. That you
didn’t have to come after me, not for the gold or for the judge or
anything…that you came because you wanted me. Was he wrong?”

 
    
The lonely, forlorn note robbed him of
speech. He stood, surging upwards from the water, arms wrapped around her and
bringing her with him. Her skin slid on his and he cupped her bottom to keep
from dropping her.

 
    
“No,” Sam confessed, abandoning the last
good intention he had to stand on. “He wasn’t wrong. I’ve wanted you from the
first night I met you. I just couldn’t reconcile lust with what I thought you
were and when I found out how wrong I was, I’d already been such a complete
bastard.”

 
    
Her arms twined about his neck, her breasts
soft and beckoning against his chest. “You weren’t a complete bastard.”

 
    
“You still left.” The accusation slipped
out, the ache that gripped his heart when he’d realized her room was empty and
the hollowness that chased him for days until he’d found her mountain.

 
    
Found her.

 
    
“I didn’t want to go.” The whispered confession
stopped his heart. “I didn’t, Sam. When you found me at the pond, I was scared.
I was terrified of what you would think, of what you would say and I had to
protect my brothers. I had too.”

 
    
“Shh,” Sam pressed kisses to the corner of
her mouth, climbing out of the stream and carrying her towards the fire. Under
the canopy of shady trees, it was twilight, despite the late afternoon hour. He
settled her on the blankets, uncaring of how damp they were and grabbed a spare
shirt to towel her off, unwilling to walk the half dozen steps back to the
towel she’d left on the rock.

 
    
“You were afraid of what Cody and the
others would do,” he murmured. “I get that. I never blamed you for being
afraid.”

 
    
“Just for leaving.”

 
    
The truth untwisted the knife in his guts,
burning as it pulled free. He rubbed the shirt over her shoulders and down her
chest, circling each breast carefully. “Yeah. I hated it.”

 
    
“So did I.”

 
    
“Don’t ever leave me again,” Sam ordered,
sick at the thought.

 
    
Scarlett grabbed his hand, holding it to
her breast and meeting his hard gaze head on. “I won’t if you won’t.”

 
    
“Marry me?”

 
    
She blinked. “Sam, are you sure?”

 
    
“I’m asking aren’t I?” He swore internally
at his own impatience. “I’m not doing this right.” He shifted, backing away a
half step and kneeling down, in the grass in front of her.

 
    
“Scarlett Morning Star, will you do me the
honor of being my bride? To have and to hold, until death do we part.”

 
    
Her silence worried him until he saw the
tremulous tears in her eyes. He waited, not daring to hope when her head began
to nod. “Yes, Marshal Samuel Kane, I will marry you.”

 
    
He wanted to whoop, but settled for surging
forward to kiss her.

 
    
S
am
devoured her mouth, the rough calluses of his hands stroking pleasure along her
sides. Heat spiraled out of her belly, but the air neither shimmered nor
popped. She broke from the kiss to look at her hands and Sam followed her gaze,
peppering gentle kisses along her shoulder to her elbow. His teeth scraped lightly
against the fold of skin before continuing on to nuzzle her wrist and finally
her palm.

 
    
“You’ve never burned me,” he murmured,
looking at her with so much emotion, she thought she might drown in it. He
kissed each finger, gliding them against his teeth and tongue.

 
    
The heat was liquid fire in veins, each
touch sending out another pulsing cascade of need.

 
    
She pulled her fingers from his mouth and
slid them up into his hair, eager to taste him again and when he kissed her,
she kissed him back, the fire that burn within her was in their lips.

 
    
Her tongue dared past his teeth and she let
her hands wander, gliding over hard, rigid muscle.

 
    
When her fingers found his cock, she pulled
her mouth away to cup it, sliding her hand around the thick head with wonder.
Her heart beat a steady staccato rate against her ribs.