The Lawman's Surrender: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 2 (15 page)

But when she stood and stretched, he found reason staggering beneath the force of his hunger for her. Without the padding, every swell and valley of her full-breasted body was outlined against the ugly brown woolen dress. Her pouty lips curved in a half smile that was both mysterious and female, and made him wonder what wickedness was passing through her mind. With effort, he maintained his stoic expression and crossed his arms over his chest, scanning the horizon as if searching out danger. But he watched her from the corner of his eye.

With a mischievous arching of brows—as if she knew he was watching—she unfastened the first button of her dress.

Siren.

She opened another one.

Temptress.

Every button she flicked open showed a hint of more flawless skin, another glimpse of creamy bosom. Who was this sensual enchantress? He thought he knew all the faces of Susannah: Susannah the flirt, Susannah the stubborn, Susannah the clever. Never before had he seen this side of her, this incredibly feminine creature who exuded sensuality like a perfume that tickled his senses and tempted him to touch. To taste.

He thought of all the times he had touched her in the course of simple courtesy. Cupping his hands to help her mount, aiding her in dismounting from her horse, taking her arm as they crossed the street together. Small touches. Intimate in a way, but with the easy distance of gallantry standing between them.

But now, watching her slip the brown dress from her shoulders, he wanted to touch her in other ways. Ways that mattered.

The dark wool slid over her generous bosom, down her slender arms, past her flat midriff, then caught at the curve of her hips. She made a small undulation of her pelvis, and the garment slithered down to land in a crumpled heap at her feet. Pure lust streaked through him.

The thin lawn of her shift hid nothing from his hungry gaze—including the fact that she wore nothing beneath it. A soft evening breeze blew loose tendrils of silver-blonde hair across her face and pressed the flimsy garment to her body. Her nipples grew hard from the chill. He thought about warming them with his mouth.

When she reached up to undo her long braid, he clenched his fists and deliberately looked away, studying the trees as if the enemy lurked there.

“Are you shy, Marshal?”

“Not a bit,” he replied, still not looking at her.

“I think you are. Most men would be staring by now.”

He tightened his jaw, knowing she was right, knowing how much he wanted to stare. “I’m not most men.”

“That is entirely obvious, Jedidiah.”

His name murmured in that low, sultry voice of hers drew his attention despite his determination to behave like a gentleman. He looked his fill, knowing full well he shouldn’t, but unable to resist.

She padded barefoot to the edge of the stream, her undergarment hiding little from his gaze. Lifting her shift to her knees, she cautiously tested the temperature of the water with one toe. “Oh, it’s chilly!”

“I warned you.”

She slanted him a look of pure coquetry, then glanced coyly away. “So you did.”

“Susannah.”

She whipped her head around at the husky growl that was her name. Despite himself, he feasted on the sight of her, blonde hair flowing down her back, soft breasts swelling temptingly above the embroidered neckline of her shift, long legs exposed to the knee. He indulged himself for a long moment before he raised his eyes to her face.

“This isn’t a game.”

“I know that.” She slowly withdrew her foot from the water and let her shift fall back into place.

“It isn’t wise to start something right now. Distraction could get us killed.”

“I know that, too.” She approached him slowly, her eyes half-closed with the need that pulsed between them. Her skin was flushed, lips parted.

“I think it’s best if we both just keep our distance.”

“We should.” She stepped closer. “But what if I don’t want to keep my distance?”

“Then we have a problem.”

She took another step toward him. “Then, Marshal…I’d say we have a problem.”

Her throat captivated him. Her palms. The bend of her elbows. The delicate skin at her temple. He wanted to touch everywhere, taste everything.

“We’ve already agreed that this is a bad idea,” he murmured, reaching for her.

“You’re right.” She came into his embrace and rested her hands on his chest, tilting her face to his with a gleam of expectation in her eyes that he couldn’t resist.

“Aw, hell.” Bending his head, he kissed her with a thoroughness guaranteed to make her head spin.

She clung to his shirt as he explored her mouth with wild skill, his tongue slipping between her lips like a sleek predator in the night. He gently but firmly caressed the curve of her spine from shoulders to buttocks, pressing her to him. Her body settled along his as if she’d been molded to fit against him.

He demanded everything with his kiss, and she gave it without hesitation. An eager moan rose in her throat when his hands cupped her buttocks and urged her closer and he deepened the kiss, expertly bringing her to a level of desire that was beyond her experience.

He nipped at her mouth, then soothed the sting with his tongue. He tilted his head this way and that, trying new angles, exploring the recesses of her mouth from every possible direction.

He felt her curious palms stroking over his chest. Moving his mouth to the smooth column of her throat, he reached up with one hand and tugged at the buttons of his shirt. A second later, her fingers joined his. Together they managed to open his shirt and long underwear.

“Touch me,” he murmured, pressing his tongue against the madly beating pulse of her throat. He curled his hands around her shapely bottom and pulled her tighter into his embrace. The first tentative touch of her fingers against the bare flesh of his chest made his heart pound. “That’s it,” he murmured as her caresses grew more confident. “Stroke me. Like a big old cat.”

She gave a breathy laugh and did as he asked, stroking her palms down his chest with just the right amount of firmness, her fingers tangling in the curling hair. He felt just like a cat for a moment. He wanted to stretch out beneath her touch and purr from the pleasure of it.

She tugged open more buttons, continuing to explore him with curiosity. He pressed his mouth to her shoulder, nipping her there. She made a squeak of surprise, then gasped as he bent down and took one of her nipples in his mouth, right through the cloth of her shift.

“Jedidiah.” Her body echoed the plea in her voice as she arched her back, and he suckled harder, reaching up to cup her other breast in his hand, kneading it rhythmically. “Oh, sweet Lord, what are you doing to me?”

Something in her voice broke through the haze of passion that blinded him. She sounded as if she’d never done this before. Even the mere thought of such a possibility was enough for Jedidiah to regain control of himself.

Reluctantly, he let her nipple slide from his mouth, watching with regret as it beaded instantly in response to the cooler air of the evening. He made himself release her other breast, instead placing his hands on her hips and easing her a step away from him. She looked at him with the light of discovery in her eyes, her skin flushed with passion. He couldn’t resist pressing one last, soft kiss against her sweet lips.

She made a whimpering sound and tried to come back into his arms, but he managed to disentangle himself and step away.

He was hard as a rock from wanting her, but he had to do the right thing. His code of honor demanded that he make sure she was willing before he made love to her.

“Is this what you want?” he asked, his voice rough with passion. “You have to be sure, Susannah. I told you I can’t stay. Knowing that, do you still want to share my bedroll tonight?”

Her eyes grew wide, and he saw the answer in her face before she ever spoke.

“I’m sorry, Jedidiah.”

He sucked in a deep breath. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

She looked miserable. “I didn’t mean for things to go this far.”

“I know. But if this isn’t what you want, then I suggest you get on with your bath and get yourself dressed.”

She reached out a hand, then drew it back before she touched him. “Are you all right?”

He gave her a grimace. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine in a little while once I calm down.”

She glanced down past his waist, then jerked her gaze back up, color flooding her cheeks like crimson flags. He wondered how many aroused men she had seen. Dozens, maybe.

The thought made him scowl. He had no doubt that a beautiful woman like Susannah had attracted a lot of men over the years. How many of them had touched her? Kissed her?

Even though he knew he had no right to think it, the idea that there may have been someone before him chafed like a burr beneath his blanket.

“Jedidiah?” She watched him with concern in those oh-so-innocent blue eyes. Had she looked at other men like that? Said their names like a caress?

“You still want that bath or not?” he asked. He knew his tone was too harsh when sudden dismay crossed her face. But he couldn’t seem to stop from making a jackass of himself.

“Yes, of course I do.”

“Good. Let me help you.” He scooped her up. Her squeak of protest turned into a shriek as he stepped up to the edge of the bank, and dropped her into the chilly water. Then he turned his back and stalked away, ignoring the outraged shrieks that followed him.

Chapter Eleven

“This is ruined.”

Jedidiah looked across the campfire at Susannah. Freshly bathed and dressed in her own shirtwaist and skirt, she calmly held up the dripping bundle that used to be her disguise. He tried to ignore the way the firelight made her skin glow like alabaster and the way her drying hair glittered like strands of silver. Calling on every vestige of his famed self-control, he focused his attention on the soaking garments.

“What happened to that?” he asked.

“It got knocked in the water when you…when I went in.”

Her tone was calm, her eyes determined. Obviously, she was going to pretend that the past hour—especially their embrace—had never happened. He wished he could forget as easily.

He wasn’t very pleased with the way he had lost control and thrown her in the stream. He was a grown man, not a green boy jealous of his sweetheart making eyes at another. He was a professional, a lawman, and he shouldn’t have given into his temper like that.

As for the passionate embrace, although he should feel some chagrin about it, he couldn’t. No, it wasn’t wise to become physically involved with his charge, but they were both human beings, and these things sometimes happened—though it had never happened to him before. He found it was easier to deal with if he looked at it philosophically. He had made the offer, and she had refused it. There was no reason to feel guilty about it. As long as he didn’t dwell on how right she felt in his arms, or on the uncomfortable emotions that sprang to life whenever she came near him, he would be able to treat the whole thing casually.

To prove it to himself, he rose and crossed to her, noting how she tensed when he came near. For a moment, shame made him hesitate. Had his conduct frightened her? That would never do, if she were to trust him enough to get her out of this.

Then her gaze dropped to his mouth, and he realized from the sensual expression softening her face that she wasn’t afraid of him at all. His body responded eagerly to her sweet look of desire, but he ruthlessly quelled his baser instincts.

Simply because of his age, he knew that he had to be the more experienced one. It was up to him to set the tone of their association from now on. She had made it clear that she wasn’t interested in a physical relationship. He had to respect that, no matter how many hungry glances she gave him.

“Will it dry out?” He took the padding from her hands. The cotton-stuffed pillow that had made up her false pregnancy was wet clear through. Already he could smell the musty scent of the stream that clung to the cotton, and the seams looked like they would give way at any second.

“I don’t think so,” she responded. “That thing is ruined.”

“What about the bonnet?” he asked, keeping his gaze on the wet material as she moved a step closer. The smell of her rose-scented soap made him wonder if this woman had been born knowing how to drive a man to distraction.

“The bonnet is fine,” she was saying. “It was by the fire when the rest of this got wet.”

“All right.” He shoved the gown back at her. “Wear the bonnet with your regular clothes. I’ll think of something else for when we come to the next town.”

She took the padding back from him, her fingers just brushing his and sending a fresh flood of desire surging through him. He stood stone-still, not daring to move lest he reach for her.

“Jedidiah.”

He glanced at her face, seeing the acknowledgment of his own longings reflected in her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you for stopping things before they got too…complicated.”

He gave her a short nod, afraid that if he tried to speak, he would beg. She turned and walked away, the gentle sway of her hips an invitation that he struggled to resist.