ROMANCE: Badass Boss (Billionaire Alpha Bad Boy Romance) (Western Mail Order Bride Calendar Contemporary) (73 page)

The days stretched out in an endless stream. Mary-Jane's parents were surprised that she had not had another outburst, and hoped that she had simply had a bad day and it was the end of it. However, her curiosity about her uncle had only been stemmed by the excitement of Luke's reply, and for the first few days after she had sent her letter she was in high spirits, jovial and singing aloud. Yet as the days drew on and no reply had come, a bitterness seized her heart and her mood darkened. The people at the mail office began to recognize her as she came in daily, and they teased her about the fact that nobody had sent her a reply mail. She snapped at her parents and withdrew from life, until one day there was a letter waiting for her, and the weight of the world had been lifted. She ran through town to her special place and took joy in the letter. She traced her fingertips along the envelope, feeling the paper, imagining how his hands must have touched the same areas. She wondered how he felt, if he had been pleased by her letter. Waiting in the envelope could have been something wonderful... or it could have been something dreadful, and her mind wrestled with the possibilities.

It lay in her lap, staring at her. Her name and address had been scribbled on the front of the envelope and it was a wonder that it had managed to reach her at all, but it was a good sign, for she had always heard that the most sensitive and intelligent men had bad handwriting. Eventually, she tore open the envelope, pulled out the paper, and began devouring the words he had written.

Dear Mary-Jane

Thank you for your letter, it gave me a great deal of pleasure to read your words, and even though you claimed that words were difficult to come by I found that the few you chose were imbued with a kind and sensitive character, and one that I would like to get to know a great deal more. Thank you for your kind words. It has been difficult to live after my wife died, and I hope you do not think it improper of me to be searching for another wife, or to be talking about her so openly. I am trying to move on, but it is hard.  You may not wish to answer such a personal question, but have you ever lost anyone close to you? It would be gratifying to know that somebody else knows my pain.

As for me and my life, I am a simple man born to a simple family. My father taught me everything I know and I ventured out here with my wife in the hopes of building a life, one that I could pass down to my son and that would outlive me. I don't need anything grand, only to have a good woman by my side and to see my son grown up well and healthy. I like to think of myself as having a good sense of humor and a strong morality. I do not take kindly to those who would seek to harm other people, but I believe in kindness and that we should help each other overcome our hardships. The most difficult thing I have had to experience is the loneliness of being out here. There are nights when I stare out at the horizon and wonder if there is anyone else that feels the same as me, that feels so... so small.

My wife always told me that I think too much.

My son's name is Eli and he has inherited his mother's looks, which is good news for him. He is a calm baby, although it is clear that he misses his mother and I am struggling to give him all the attention he needs when I have a ranch to run as well. Do you have any experience with children? And again, I hope that you do not mind that you would be taking care of a child that is not your own blood.

There is much I would like to know about you. What are your parents like? What things do you enjoy? How do you spend your days? I feel you are correct when you say that a bond has been forged between us, and I hope that this response finds you well.

Yours,

Luke

Mary-Jane read and re-read his words over and over again. She thought of him sitting at his desk writing them, struggling to find the perfect order to please her. He seemed so sensitive and thoughtful, and when she read about him staring out at the horizon a warm feeling swelled within her and threatened to burst out. She held the letter close to her bosom and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply as she thought about Luke and what he must be doing now. Was he thinking of her? Was he waiting with the same agony for her reply? Part of her wanted to torture him, but another part couldn't wait because she knew that the longer she waited to reply the longer she would have to wait to receive another letter, so as quickly as she could she set about writing a reply.

Dearest Luke,

The letter did indeed find me in good spirits, which were lifted even higher after I read your words. I am sure now that we share many interests and thoughts. I like that you are thoughtful and there are many nights when I too have stared out at the horizon, wishing that someone would be close to me. Perhaps we have been staring at each other all this time and never known it?

I have indeed lost someone close to me, although not in the same way as your wife. My uncle left when I was very young. Everyone says that we were close and that he doted on me, but my childhood memories are vague and... there is a strange mystery around him. I do not know what it is, but my parents are being rather secretive about it and it is part of the reason why I am writing to you. You see, my father is the sheriff and he would much rather I stay here and become a spinster. I am sure that it has something to do with my uncle but nobody will tell me the truth, and I am tired of being treated like a little girl. All my friends have their own families and I want one too. I long to meet your little son. I have always wanted a boy to raise, and when I was younger I spent some time helping out in the nursery. I imagine it must be hard for you to do the duties of two parents, and I would be pleased to help in any way I can.

I also do not begrudge you bringing up your wife. She is an important part of your life and it is clear that you loved her dearly, I can only trust in my own ability to open your heart up to that kind of feeling again. I know it may take time, but you are still alive on this earth, I am sure she would not want you to spend the rest of your days alone and absent of love.

I spend my days doing chores, reading, and now writing my letters to you. My mother has trained me well in the art of looking after the house, and my father is a strong-willed man and has shown me how to deal with people. The community here is small but close, and we are all on good terms with each other. Close to our borders is an arid desert that once was home to a savage tribe, and they came to take some people from us. It is these that I thought inspired my father's need to protect me, but I am not sure how my uncle fits in with them. I fear that the mystery may never be solved, but I want to bid farewell to that part of my life and begin a new chapter.

I have heard that in these matters it is important to know what the other person looks like, so in order to expedite things I have decided to send you a picture of myself, and I hope that you will return the gesture. If I am pleasing to you then I would be happy to make arrangements for me to come to you.

Know that my thoughts are with you, and the next time you are staring at the horizon know that I am staring back.

Your Mary-Jane

Again, her heart was beating swiftly when she mailed the letter, and the anguish of the wait was almost unbearable. When it finally arrived, she ran into her room and slammed the door. Upon opening the envelope, she felt a second piece of paper, and her lips curled into a smile, for she knew it was a photograph of him. She almost tossed the letter aside and gazed at the picture, but she wanted to know what he thought of her, so once again her eyes danced eagerly over the words that had been penned by his strong, tender hand.  In this letter he expressed delight at seeing her, and also concern that her parents were unaware of her desire to marry, and while this gave her a twinge of guilt she ignored it because he was agog at how beautiful she was. Never before had she been approached with such an intense desire, and reading his words was far more intimate than sharing a coy glance with a stranger as they passed in the street.

I only hope that you have a similar reaction to my picture.

There was more to the letter following that statement, but she could not contain herself any longer. She placed the letter to one side and picked up the picture, holding it so that the back of the photograph was not facing her. Slowly, she turned it around, and a wave of yearning desire swept over her, making her entire body tingle. Standing in the picture was a man who may as well have stepped out of her dreams. He was tall and strong, with dark hair and a brooding look in his heavy-lidded eyes. His biceps bulged through a plaid shirt, and he was clearly a man who knew how to get things done. He had full lips, and as Mary-Jane gazed at the picture she imagined how he would smell, probably of earth and sweat and manliness. Her mind began to grow hazy as a veil of desire slipped over her, covering her in its sweet and tempting allure.

Her fingers brushed over his picture and in her mind she began to touch him. She imagined her hands running over his taut muscles, feeling the steady, pounding rhythm of his heart. Her own was beating frantically under her chest. Never had she experienced any feelings like this before, but they were familiar, for she had read about them in some of her books, the ones that her father didn't know about.

There was a queasy, knotted feeling in her stomach but it was the good kind, and everything fluttered and seemed unreal and yet so real at the same time. Her senses were heightened and yet everything seemed so far away. Her eyelids drooped and the confines of her bedroom suddenly disappeared as she was plunged into a world of lust and longing. Her hands groped at her own body, clutching at her dress and pushing it aside so she could explore her burning wetness. In her mind Luke was beside her, running his hands through her hair, doing everything that she wanted him to do. She thought how soft his lips would be upon her milky flesh, how his sun-kissed skin would be coarse to the touch but burning, his hands running over her body, squeezing her just a little tighter than she expected.

Mary-Jane's mouth twisted into a wide grin as her body writhed on the bed. The sensations were like tremors and her body shuddered as her hand dove in between her thighs. Her chest began to heave as the waves of pleasure rose and fell, increasing in tempo and rhythm. She bit her lower lip. Her skin became flushed and beads of sweat formed on her temples, trickling down her skin and dropping to her pillow. Her head twisted. In her mind he was beside her, kissing her, and she could feel his warmth by her side. His strong body dominated her and she wanted him to make her a woman. She didn't want anyone else to take her, only wanted to share herself with him to pleasure him.

He was such a lonely man and he needed a good wife, one who would do whatever he needed. His broken heart was in need of mending and his body in need of loving and she would be sensual, she would be soft and tender, she would be a mother to his son and a wife to him, and at night she would be as wild as a coyote, howling together in glorious ecstasy. These thoughts rattled around her mind and all she wanted was to be beside him. Her hands became his hands and her mind was vibrant with Luke. He flashed before her eyes, even when they were open, and for a moment she was convinced that by some miracle he had traversed time and space and was in the room with her. The heady delights were intoxicating and she never wanted the pleasure to end. Her fingers twisted and danced inside her, he body shuddered and writhed and shook as the tremulous orgasmic force rose through her body, seizing her with something overwhelming that was both exhilarating and entirely terrifying at the same time.

Her mind exploded and a silent scream left her mouth, echoing around her head as her body convulsed and jerked violently. Her breathing was haggard and she thought that her body would never recover from what she had just put it through. As the elation subsided she looked at the picture of Luke and smiled in reverence. She brought it to her lips and kissed it softly, then held it and the letter close to her as she fell to sleep, completely satisfied. 

Chapter 5

Mary-Jane had thought about Luke more often than usual since she had received his picture, and she had been unable to stop herself from entertaining intense thoughts. Mostly this was not a problem, but it became a problem when she was eating dinner with her parents, and she had to make a serious effort to control her mind, which took more discipline than what she was used to. While she was writing letters to Luke, and when she was on her own, it became easy to dream up a perfect life together. But as they grew more intimate, suddenly everything became more real. She was sure that she was falling in love with him, yet things were not as simple, because there was still her parents to consider.

All her life, they had been looking out for her and now she had struck out on her own, and she wasn't sure if they would allow it. Luke had expressed his concerns about the fact that she had not told them about their letters, so in her last reply she had asked him if he would consider traveling down to meet them, so everyone could be on the same page, and then, she hoped, she would be allowed to return with him and begin their lives together. But that meant that she would have to broach the subject with her parents, and that was more challenging than she had anticipated.