Natchez Flame (41 page)

She lowered her head and took one into her mouth, laving it, kissing and tugging. The muscles in his chest bunched, and the hand that cupped her breast grew tense, kneading its weight with renewed demand. She jerked his shirt free and worked the buttons on his breeches, pulling them open, her hand reaching inside to free his straining flesh.

“God, Priscilla.” Brendan kissed her hard, then his mouth burned a path along her neck and shoulders. She stroked his thick length, velvety smooth beneath her hand, felt his muscles tighten, and then he pulled away.

“Easy, baby.” With a look that spoke his hunger, he sat down on the bed, and tugged off his boots, then slid off his breeches.

Both of them naked at last, he pressed her down on the mattress, his body coming to rest between her legs. He kissed her fiercely, suckled her breasts, then nipped and tasted her all the way to her damp woman’s flesh. When his mouth settled over her, Priscilla moaned and writhed against him, white heat engulfing her body.

In seconds he had her shivering with pleasure, begging to feel him inside her. She needed him as she never had before. She needed him to claim her, possessher.
She needed to feel every hard-driving inch of his body.

There were no more uncertainties, no more fears. She was his woman—all he could handle and more. She knew without doubt she could give him what he needed, match him passion for passion, fire for fire.

As if reading her thoughts, Brendan moved above her, his solid length hot and bold. He found her soft passage, kissed her long and thoroughly, and buried himself fully inside.

He felt huge and burning, thrilling in a way he hadn’t before. She arched her back, and he thrust into her hard and deep. His hands slid down her body, cupped her buttocks, and lifted her to meet each driving thrust.

“Such fire,” he whispered, his voice no more than a husky rasp.

Such beauty
, Priscilla thought as the heat of each stroke rolled over her, pushing her skyward, higher and higher with each pounding movement. She clawed his back and arched upward, straining against him. A soft cry of pleasure escaped as she swirled into a void of sweetness, a bright spinning pit of pleasure and oneness more powerful than any she had ever known.

“You’re mine,” he whispered, soft and low, then his muscles grew rigid, and he reached his release. Priscilla felt his warm seed spilling inside her and knew a joy so poignant her eyes filled with tears.

“I love you,” she whispered as they began to spiral down, holding each other in the afterglow of their passion.

“I love you, Silla. More than you’ll ever know.” He
thought of what Egan had done to her and a knot coiled hotly inside him. Was Egan really dead, or had the bastard managed to slip away?

He stared out into the darkness.
It’s over
, he told himself.
She’s safe now, and even if she isn’t, she’s got you to protect her.

But the little voice reminded him that he had failed to protect her before.

Still dressed in the clothes she had worn the day before, Rose awakened with the first rays of dawn. Jaimie lay beside her on the horsehair sofa, shirtless, cuddling her against him, already awake.

“Sleep well?” he asked, the words a soft caress against her ear.

She smiled. “With you here, yes.”

“I like waking up with you, Rose.”

She didn’t answer. When he’d come to her last night, she’d been so happy to see him safe she had started to cry. Now, hearing the kindness in his words made her want to cry again.

Brushing sleep-tangled hair from her face, she sat up and turned to face him. “There are things I need you to know, Jaimie. I want you to understand about Caleb.” She had wanted to explain last night, but couldn’t seem to find the words.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

“Please, Jaimie….”

He took her hand in his. “All right.”

Rose steeled herself. “Once I found out what he was doing, that he was involved in the robberies on the river, I knew I should leave him. I knew it was wrong to stay, but … well, this was the first decent
place I’d ever lived … and I couldn’t stand the thought of going back to the Painted Lady.”

His hold tightened protectively.

“I kept telling myself it was just for a little while longer. I’d been saving money, bits here and there from what Caleb gave me. I figured pretty soon I’d have enough to go away, make a respectable life someplace else.” She stared down at her hand, trembling beneath his against the folds of her skirt. “I know it was wrong, I should have—”

“You did what you had to. I can’t fault you, and unless they’ve worn your shoes, neither should anyone else.”

Did he really mean that?
She prayed that he did.

“I don’t care what happened before we met,” Jaimie said with conviction. “I want you to marry me.”

“Marry you?” Though he’d mentioned taking her with him, she never dreamed he intended marriage. A woman with a past like hers became a man’s mistress, nothing more.

“Why not? I know this is all happening pretty fast—I know you’re not in love with me, but I’ve got enough love for both of us.”

Rose just stared at him. “You can’t be serious.”

Jaimie’s blue eyes darkened. He let go of her hand. Swinging his legs to the floor, he reached for his shirt. “I figured you’d probably say no; I didn’t expect you to take it as some kind of joke.”

He grabbed his boots, pulled one on and then the other. He started to get up, but Rose caught his arm.

“You really mean this, don’t you?”

“Of course, I mean it.” His eyes searched her face.
“I’m in love with you, Rose. I believe … if we had enough time … you might come to feel something for me, too. I’d be good to you, give you time to get used to things. When you were ready, we could start living as man and wife.”

Every other man she’d ever known had wanted only one thing. Jaimie was willing to wait. He’d marry her, even without taking what would be his lawful right. “You would do that for me?”

“We could go to Texas. Noble Egan’s been running the Triple R. He’s a good boy, but he’s got a helluva lot to learn. He could use a man like me.”

I could use a man like you.

“Of course, bein’ a wife, there’d be kids to consider. Do you like children, Rose?”

A lump swelled in her throat. All her life she’d done everything in her power not to have them. Bastard children of men she didn’t even know. Now the thought of a family seemed like a dream she’d kept bottled up inside her. Unattainable. She had never dared to think of it.

“I love children,” she said softly.

“Marry me, Rose.”

“What about Caleb? What about the things I’ve done?”

“None of that matters.”

“You’re sure about this? Sure you want to marry me?”

“I’d be proud to call you my wife.”

She couldn’t do it to him. He deserved so much more. “I’ll go with you, Jaimie,” she said softly. “You don’t have to marry me. I’ll warm your bed and stay with you just as long as you want me.”

He tipped her chin with his hand, saw the haze of tears, lifted one away with the tip of his fingers. “I love you, Rose. I
want
to marry you. Say you’ll be my wife.”

“Oh, Jaimie.” The truth of his words was there in his eyes. “I love you. I have almost from the start.”

“Rose….” The single word spoken with so much love. “Does that mean yes?”

She nodded. Jaimie pulled her against his chest, and her arms went around his neck. “You’ll never be sorry, Jaimie, never.”

“I know that, Rose.” Cupping her face with his hands, Jaimie kissed her.

Rose kissed him back with all the love in her heart. She was going to Texas. Making a fresh start. But instead of being alone, instead of fighting every moment just to survive, she had Jaimie.

The dreams she had never dared to dream were going to come true.

Sunlight beaming through an open window awoke them late the next morning. Brendan took Priscilla carefully, aware of the bruises she carried, wanting to show her his love. Afterward, she curled against him.

“It feels different this time,” she said softly, “being here with you like this. Before I was always uncertain. As if I would wake up and this would all be a dream.”

“Everything’s going to be all right now.” He rolled onto his side to face her, one hand brushing back tangles of her thick dark hair. “We’ll be married just as soon as we can make the arrangements.”

Priscilla’s gaze met his. “I never felt like Stuart’s wife. No matter how many times he called me that, it’s been you I thought of as my husband since the first time we made love.”

“I wish I could have told you the truth about him, but it was just too dangerous.” I
wish they would have found the bastard’s body.
“If I had failed, your life would have been in danger.”

“I should have believed in you, trusted you. Stuart was so convincing … and I knew you were running…. I was just so confused.”

“It’s all right, baby.” He brushed her lips with a kiss. “It’s all over now.”

“There’s one thing more you should know—”

He turned away from her and sat up in bed. “If you’re going to tell me what happened with Egan—don’t.” There was an edge to his voice and his fingers unconsciously gripped the sheet. “He’ll never touch you … never hurt you again.”

“Did he tell you what happened?”

Brendan glanced away. “You’re safe now, whatever he did makes no difference.”

Priscilla laid a hand against his cheek, his jaw roughened by several days’ growth of beard. “I don’t know what you think happened, but thanks to Jaimie, whatever might have, didn’t.”

Probing blue eyes swung to hers, searching, intense. “Egan didn’t … force you?” He touched the bruise on her face.

“He tried to. He would have succeeded, but Mace Harding sent for him, and while he was gone Jaimie helped me escape.”

“God, Priscilla.” Brendan’s hand laced into her
hair. He pulled her head against his chest, then tipped her face up and kissed her. Priscilla kissed him back, showing him how much she cared. It felt so good just to be near him, so much a part of him.

They lay quiet for a while, sharing the closeness, enjoying just being together. Still, there were things that needed to be said.

“There’s something else I need to tell you … something I wanted to say last night.”

He smiled lazily. “Last night we got … sidetracked.” A long brown finger trailed warmly down her cheek. “Why don’t you tell me now?”

Priscilla captured his hand and kissed the palm. When she made no attempt to continue, he didn’t hurry her, just let her take her time. Then,

“Sill?”

It was now or never. “I want to explain what happened to me the day little Charity got hurt … why I acted the way I did. I should have told you then but … somehow I just couldn’t.”

She shook her head, recalling the unpleasant memory. “It was like a nightmare, Bren, only I couldn’t wake up. When I saw that little girl lying on the floor … when I saw all that blood … it was as if a window in my mind opened into the past.” She raised her eyes to his face and saw the concern etched there. “I remembered what happened when I was a child here in Natchez eighteen years ago. I remembered—and it was so ugly that I couldn’t face it.”

For the next half hour she told him about her family, about her mother and father, about Megan O’Conner, her father’s mistress, about her half sister
Rose. She told him of her mother’s jealousy and how it had ended in three terrible needless deaths. When she finished she was crying.

“It’s all right, baby.” Brendan turned her into his arms. “Sometimes things like that make us stronger. You proved that by coming after me in that cave.”

Priscilla knew it was the truth. Facing up to it had made her stronger. “I know you’re right. I feel like I’ve finally been set free.”

He rested her head against his shoulder and smoothed back her hair. “You have been, baby. Free to be with me.”

He held her a moment, letting her cry against him, letting the past drift away. Then he handed her the edge of the sheet to dry her eyes. “All right?”

She nodded.

As she lay back against him, he toyed with a length of her hair. Priscilla said nothing for the longest time, enjoying the closeness, feeling completely unburdened.

It was Brendan who broke the silence. “What’ll we do about the wedding?”

Priscilla turned to face him. “To tell you the truth, I haven’t given it much thought. Until last night, I never really believed it would happen.”

“We could go to my brother’s in Savannah,” he said. “You could have the fancy gown and the bridesmaids—the whole damned thing, if that’s what you want.”

She smiled and shook her head. “None of that matters. I just want to say the words so it will finally be legal. As far as I’m concerned we’ve been married since that night on the prairie.”

Brendan smiled with so much pleasure Priscilla’s heart turned over. “Since legally you’re a widow, we can do it today—if we can make the arrangements that fast. We’ll get married here in the garden.”

“I’d like my sister and Jaimie to be here. Without their help, we wouldn’t be together.”

He nodded. “I’d still like to go to Savannah—afterward, I mean. It’s beautiful in the fall and … well, I haven’t seen my brother in years. I’ve got a terrific sister-in-law and two little nephews I’ve never even met.” He grinned, white teeth gleaming. “Besides, I’d like a chance to show off my new bride.”

Priscilla’s heart expanded even more. “I’d love it, Bren. I just hope they like me.”

“Like you? Are you kidding? The woman who brought the wayward brother in line? They’ll think you walk on water.”

“Just imagine,” she said, leaning back against his chest, “by tonight I’ll be Mrs. Brendan Trask.”

His eyes alight with approval, Brendan bent down and kissed her. As always, the touch of his lips started a warming in her limbs, and soon their breathing turned ragged. Her hands moved from his incredibly narrow, hard-muscled hips to his wide, furred chest, then upward till her arms locked around his neck.

Brendan chuckled softly. “You little minx, you’re determined to wear me out, aren’t you.”