Rexanne Becnel (47 page)

“Yes, here,” she countered, sliding one hand down his back and over his hard buttocks. If it worked on her, it would probably work on him, she reasoned.

And it did. He muttered something harsh and indecipherable. Something that sounded as if it might be obscene, she guessed; but then, that was certainly appropriate. Then he lifted her off her feet and, backing up to an armless chair, sat down on it.

To Abby’s shock—and delight—she found herself straddling Tanner’s lap. With only a few swift tugs he forced her bunched-up skirts aside so that her bare bottom was suddenly pressed right over his bulging manhood. It was a position that promised all sorts of interesting possibilities, and a new wave of heat and dampness swept through her.

Equally promising was the proximity of her aching breasts to his hands and mouth.

Her breath came shallow and fast as they faced each other that way. He stared at her breasts, which strained against the cotton muslin that covered them, then raised his eyes to hers. “You are the most incredible, unlikely woman—” He broke off and let his hands do the talking instead. One of his palms slid up her bare thigh until his thumb just brushed her damp curls. With his other hand he stroked her breasts, running his knuckles down the upper slope then back and forth, ever so slightly across the peaked and aching tips.

Abby’s senses reeled as the exquisite torturing went on. She needed to be rid of all this fabric. His trousers. Her blouse and chemise and corset cover.

“I love you so much,” she breathed, taking his head between her hands and kissing him. Once more she felt his resistance to those words. But he kissed her back, and his thumb slid back and forth across the swollen little bud that guarded the entrance to her feminine core. “I love you,” she breathed as passion welled up so strong that it hurt. “Marry me, Tanner. Marry me and we can have this forever.”

His thumb paused. Only an instant, but it was enough for Abby to know, even in her inflamed state, that she’d said too much. But then the erotic rubbing started again and his other hand moved more aggressively on her breasts. With both thumbs and his tongue he initiated a rhythm that pushed her farther than ever before. She clutched at his straining shoulders and writhed in utter abandon. His tongue filled her mouth while his thumbs drove her to madness.

Then it came, that lightning striking from within, and she cried out in the most exquisite agony. It came and came, driven by the things he did to her, until she sagged against him, limp and useless, completely without artifice.

“I love you,” she breathed urgently against the side of his neck. “Please … say you love me too.”

With his hands at her waist now, he pressed her down against the bulge that yet remained in his trousers. “This is all I can give you,” he retorted in a harsh, strangled growl.

She raised her head and captured his gaze. “That’s not true,” she whispered. “We could marry—”

“Dammit, no!”

He stood up so fast, she nearly fell backward. He steadied her briefly and yanked her skirt down on one side. But once she was upright and fully covered, he turned away. “We’re not getting married, so drop the subject.”

Abby drew herself up, hurt and yet loving him just the same. “You won’t marry me, but you’ll do this with me. What if I offered to be your mistress? Would you agree to that?”

“No!” He turned to face her, his expression a mask of utter frustration. “You can’t be some man’s mistress.”

“Not some other man’s. Yours,” she insisted, just as frustrated by his stubbornness, yet wanting to drive her point home. “Just yours.” She deliberately let her gaze fall to the prominent bulge in his trousers. She knew he wanted her, and yet he wanted to deny it. But he couldn’t have it both ways.

And want her he did. At her bold glance Tanner stormed out of the room.
Fled
would have been a more apt description, he knew. How could he have let things get so out of hand? She’d become a little tyrant, one who’d swiftly learned how to pull all his strings. And now she wanted them to marry.

He strode across the lawn to the stables. A hard ride on a fast horse was no substitute for the ride he wanted to take with Abby, but it would have to do. If he’d stayed another minute, he’d have given in to her every demand. Made love to her in the morning room, where anyone could have walked in on them. Agreed to marry her.

Willard Hogan would have his balls before he’d let some lowlife bounty hunter marry his only grandchild.

But it wasn’t really that, Tanner admitted as he yanked a blanket and saddle from the tack room and flung them on a rangy gelding that reminded him of Mac. The fact was, she deserved better than the likes of him. She’d been well educated and went to church on Sundays. She’d been raised to be a proper lady, and to top that off, now she moved in high-society circles. What could
he
ever offer her beyond a good time in bed?

Tanner mounted, then urged the horse out the wide stable opening and into a full-fledged gallop. He leaned low over the animal’s powerful neck, moving at one with the horse when what he really wanted was to move at one with Abby. But he was going to raise horses in Iowa, and Abby would become a grand-society matron. The two were worlds apart. Yet despite that, whenever they were together, they sparked off each other like flint and steel.

He kicked the horse to an ever faster pace as he fought the knowledge of what he must do.

It was time for him to leave. He’d deluded himself long enough about why he was hanging around. She was like a sickness in him, something he couldn’t seem to shake off. But he had to. He had to get away from her because he couldn’t control himself anymore. Despite what she thought, he wasn’t right for her.

From now on he had to keep his distance from her. He would get rid of the threat against her first. But then, like it or not, he’d get the hell out of her life.

E
VERYTHING WAS PERFECT. ABBY
surveyed the manicured front lawn, which for this occasion had been converted into a country fair. There were booths with all sorts of games of skill—ring toss, darts, balls and hoops—manned by the older children from the orphanage. Other food booths providing sausages, fried chicken, and pies, as well as lemonade, tea, and beer, were staffed by the household help.

Her grandfather had supported the idea wholeheartedly, which shouldn’t have surprised her. After all, her fair appeared to be just one more of his elaborate landscaping vignettes.

The younger children ran gleefully about, shouting and happy, exactly as all children should behave, she thought, rather pleased with herself. Most importantly, however, were Abby’s special guests, who meandered amid the pleasant bedlam: every childless couple of any consequence in Chicago society or trade. None of the children knew what she was up to. She hadn’t wanted any of them to get their hopes up that they might find a new home today. But Abby couldn’t help feeling hopeful, for almost everyone she’d invited was here. The guest list had ended up being longer than her grandfather had originally approved, but she’d eventually talked him into agreeing. It was Tanner who’d been harder to convince.

Tanner. Everything was perfect this afternoon, she amended, except for Tanner.

Abby twirled the green-and-white gingham parasol on her shoulder restlessly. She’d dressed just for Tanner today, wearing green because he seemed to like her in that color, selecting a casual style in keeping with her theme of a country fair. She did not want to appear the society belle today, yet with all her guests bedecked in their finest summer garments, it was hard to pretend otherwise. She was gushed over by the women and admired for her cunningly planned entertainment. She was eyed surreptitiously by any number of the men, though to his credit Patrick diverted them from her with the most expert sense of timing. He’d been helpful all afternoon, pressing drinks into her hand and bringing her a plate of food, though she was far too wound up to eat or drink a thing. He’d shared host duties with her grandfather and behaved politely yet not too familiarly with her.

But it was Tanner she longed for in the role of host beside her. Patrick could never take the place of Tanner. But Tanner was nowhere to be seen.

“Alice Corsan seems very taken with one of your little children,” Patrick whispered, leaning near enough that his shoulder brushed her own. Abby’s gaze followed the direction he indicated, though she pulled slightly away from him. Just as he’d said, Alice Corsan appeared involved in earnest conversation with little Rosemary. Daniel Corsan came up with beverages for them, and judging by his smile, Abby suspected that he and his wife were of the same mind.

Abby clutched both hands around the bone grip of the parasol. Rosemary even resembled Alice, with her wealth of heavy auburn hair.
Please, Lord, let them decide to make her theirs,
Abby prayed. She looked around, automatically searching for Tanner, wanting to share her hopefulness with him. But it was Patrick who was there.

“What a splendid idea this has been,” he beamed, gazing deeply into her eyes. “It’s clear you shall set Chicago on its ear, my dear. I predict a new standard for society now that you’re here.”

“I’m sure you exaggerate—”

“No, I don’t think I do. Come along,” he drew her forward with a hand on her arm. “Shall we visit with the Corsans?”

Abby went along with him. This was, after all, precisely what she had hoped for from this afternoon’s reception. All across the close-cut lawn couples chatted and strolled, as often with children as with other adults. They helped the younger ones compete at the games and accepted refreshments from the freshly scrubbed older ones.

If even one child found a home today, it would be well worth the effort, Abby decided as she accompanied Patrick. But she nonetheless needed somehow to discourage him. His renewed attentions today might be no more than simple friendliness, but her instincts told her it was more. She needed to stifle any romantic notions he might have about her still, and the sooner the better.

“Oh, Abigail.” Alice Corsan smiled when Abby and Patrick walked up. “This sweet child was telling us that they’ll be entertaining us with several songs.”

“Yes, they will. And I might add that Rosemary sings beautifully.”

“Do you play as well?” Alice asked the child.

“Play? You mean like games?” Rosemary replied with a puzzled look on her piquant face.

“No, the piano. Do you play the piano?”

“Rosemary hasn’t had a piano available to her,” Abby interjected. “I suspect, though, that she has a musical talent that is just waiting to be fostered.”

When they took their leave of the Corsans, Patrick patted Abby’s arm. “Well done. Well done indeed.”

“You don’t think I was too obvious?” she worried, peering back at the threesome. “I wasn’t too transparent?”

Patrick steered her around the trunk of a huge maple tree. “You were perfect,” he said. Then before she could prevent it, he kissed her directly upon the lips.

Abby gasped and pulled away. She should have known he’d try something like this; she’d had an inkling all afternoon. To her relief, however, he didn’t press her further, at least not physically. But it was clear now that he hadn’t given up on his pursuit of her after all.

“And now.” He smiled at her. “You must tell me, my dear Abigail. Am I being too forward in expressing my feelings for you? Though I have tried to honor your earlier refusal of my suit, I find myself unable to stop thinking of you. I don’t ask for an answer now,” he said, forestalling her words by laying a finger against her mouth. He moved the digit across her lower lip, then trailed it down her cheek and along the side of her throat. “Just tell me you’ll think about it.”

Perhaps if he hadn’t kissed her, if he hadn’t touched her in that intimate caress, she might have found it in her to be noncommittal. He was trying so hard to be kind and patient with her, and he was a handsome and prosperous suitor. Besides, Tanner had repeatedly put her off. Maybe she should reconsider Patrick’s offer.

But Patrick’s touch did nothing to her. No warm thrill. No shivers of anticipation. If it had been Tanner instead of Patrick touching her so, she would be melting at his feet and flinging herself into his arms. To give Patrick even the faintest encouragement when she could never feel that way about him would be cruel and selfish.

“I’m sorry, Patrick,” she began, her brow creased in concern. “It’s just that you … that I …” She shook her head as she searched for the right words. She’d done this once before with Dexter Harrison, but she’d not become the least bit better at it. “I can’t,” she mumbled, feeling awful as his smile faded and his lips thinned. “It wouldn’t be right.”

“It wouldn’t be right?” He stepped back from her and swept her with a gaze that had abruptly gone cold. “What isn’t right is the way you ignore me and yet fling yourself so shamefully at your grandfather’s employees. A bodyguard,” he added contemptuously.

Abby’s emotions veered from humiliation at his far too accurate description of her behavior toward Tanner to outrage at his condescending dismissal of Tanner’s suitability. “As I recall, you, too, are one of my grandfather’s employees,” she retorted, her voice quivering with fury. “I suppose I should thank you for having lowered yourself so far as to offer for me, for overlooking my shameless behavior. But it’s clear that that flaw in my character would always have bothered you. Under the circumstances I believe it’s quite for the best that we remain only acquaintances,” she finished in an icy tone.

Above his elaborately knotted cravat Abby saw his throat flex. But she realized it was anger he fought down, not chagrin. Absolute fury. She stepped back from the venom in his stare, fearful for a moment that he might even go so far as to strike her. But to his credit he kept his emotions under control. He gave her a sharp, abbreviated bow. “If that’s how you want it.” Then he turned on his heel and stalked away.

Abby sagged back against the maple, grateful for the support it offered, for she was not quite sure she could stand on her own. From the heights of hopefulness about one of the children to this distressing scene. The day that had seemed so perfect was now shadowed and grim.