Between Love and Lies (19 page)

“Show me.” The words surprised her as much as him.

He stood in a rush and seemed to find the window very interesting to stare at again. “You don’t want that.”

“What if I did?” She moved between him and the window. If he forbade her to run, then she wouldn’t let him either.

“You’d regret it in the morning after the shock of escaping what those men had planned—” He thrust his fingers into his hair and held on tight.

Wanting to ease his distress, she reached for his arm. He shied away from her touch.

“Noah, I’m okay. I feel better than okay.” She wasn’t about to tell him that tonight wasn’t the only time she been overwhelmed by her desire for him.

He shook his head. “Folks often feel this way after an ordeal. I did after my parents died. I jumped into everything without a plan or a thought to the consequences. Thank the Lord my brother was there to wake me up to what was important. I’m in this for the long run.” His gaze widened like he regretted saying so much. He yanked his hand out of his hair and crossed his arms.

She blew out a frustrated breath, wishing she could expel her yearning with it. Then maybe she could focus on her promise to Edward. “You’re the most stubborn man I know.”

“I’m also a man who won’t take advantage of you. I promise on all that I hold dear. I’m going to earn your trust. I’m not laying a finger on you tonight.”

His declaration only made her crave his touch even more. She moved forward till they stood toe to toe. She raised her chin and held his gaze. “I’m not a child. You don’t decide my life. I do.”

“Not tonight.” With a swift step sideways, he yanked a sheet off the bed and then stomped over to the tub. “Your bath’s getting cold. I’ll rig up a curtain so you can have some privacy.”

Damnation.
She desired him to the point of madness, and he decided
now
was the time to keep her at arm’s length? She couldn’t think straight when he was this bull-headed. Nor could she stop her desire from making her daft whenever he was in sight.

Now he’d be in her sight all night long.

Double damn.
Didn’t men come to the saloon full of lust and then leave without a thought? Why couldn’t it be the same for a woman?

Life would be much easier if her enthrallment with him ended. Plus a saloon girl should know how to seduce a man and walk away in the morning. She wouldn’t learn anything if she followed Noah’s orders like a lamb.

The swathe of red fabric lay where she’d dropped it at the foot of the bed, a call for bravery or a flag of warning. She wouldn’t know until it was too late. She’d gambled on everything else, so why not this?

She picked up the chiffon peignoir and followed him to the tub.

CHAPTER 12

Outside the saloon
window, darkness had descended. Inside the brightly colored room, candlelight flickered behind the sheets Noah had strung around Sadie’s bath. The cloth shone like a scarlet apple, begging to be plucked from where it hung…so he could see and touch and taste the woman on the other side. Temptation. The original sin. He felt Adam’s torment keenly.

On his side of the sheet, he paced in the shadows while he clung to every word Sadie sang in her sweet breathless voice about the “The Yellow Rose of Texas.”

Sadie was his rose, a vibrant red one.

Everything he longed to see was red. Sadie’s hair topped the list. Would it be heavy with her bathwater and dark as a glistening garnet? Or would it hold the perfect amount of dampness to make the silky curls coil around his fingers?

And what of the sheer red garment that had arrived for Sadie to wear? Would it hug her every curve? Would it reveal more than it concealed?

He’d learn the answers when she finished her bath. She couldn’t stay in the water forever. At best it’d be lukewarm by now, and she must be tired from today’s ordeal.

There was only one bed—on his side of the curtain.

Ribbons of light danced on the sheet, following the rhythm of her song and the movement of her splashing naked in the tub. He fought the urge to tear off his clothing and join her. Then they’d be naked together and he could—

He spun away from the curtain and sunk his fingers deep into his hair. He’d certainly be damned if he yielded to this temptation.
You’re in this for the long run,
he reminded himself.
You want thousands of nights with her, not just one.

He’d been a blasted fool to promise not to touch her before embarking on an
entire
night alone with her. Now he’d pay the price. He’d probably have torn out every hair on his head by morning. He’d need to use his hands elsewhere. As soon as Sadie came out from behind the sheet, he’d go behind it and do the only thing that would get him through this night—using his hands to drain his lust.

More pacing ended with his hand somehow reaching for the curtain again. Swallowing his curse, he retreated to the bed. He’d lie down and not get up until Sadie appeared.

He yanked off his boots and vest. With his fingers linked behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankle, he lay flat on his back and stared at the ceiling as he hummed
Amazing Grace
and tried to block out Sadie’s sultry voice.

After a few minutes, he didn’t have to. Silence ruled on the other side of the curtain. No singing. No splashing. Not a sound.

Then the floorboards squeaked, and Sadie stood on his side of the curtain. She headed straight for the bed and him. The sheer red fabric showed more than he could’ve dreamed. Her small high breasts, her swaying hips, the dark juncture between her legs rendered him immobile and mute.

In a corner of his brain, a niggling thought prodded him. He was supposed to do something. Something involving going behind the curtain and—

The mattress shifted as she set one knee and then the other on it. She crawled toward him on her hands and knees in a slow glide that made him think of a lioness stalking her prey. His body turned heavy, mesmerized by her pink cheeks and the smile on her lips.

One kiss was all he needed. She could trust him to stop after that. The glaring falsehood sent him scrambling off the bed. He didn’t trust himself right now.

Her smile vanished. Looking for a way to soften his rejection, he scanned the room. He needed a distraction for her and him. He yanked a random book off a shelf by the headboard and held it between them. “Shall we read something to pass the time?”

That stopped her. Set her back on her heels too. Her cheeks turned as red as the cloth failing to cover her sweet body. His mouth went dry as dust.

She raised her chin and her hands and rose up on her knees, so she could take the book from him. When she opened it, the title faced him:
Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure
.

His heart skipped a beat. Holy hell, what kind of book had he given her?

She turned the pages swiftly, like she knew them and searched for something specific. Maybe the book’s contents weren’t as salacious as its title. It’d better be or he didn’t have a hope in hell of making it out of this room without dishonoring himself and her.

Her fingers halted. She drew in a deep breath and held the book up for him to see the page she’d found. “Here’s how I’d like to pass the time.”

An illustration showed a man standing in front of a woman who knelt on a bed. Just like them. Except in the book the man’s trousers were down and the woman had her hand around his johnson.

He snatched the book from her and returned it to the shelf. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” A dozen apologies flashed through his head. The final one being ripping the book from her hands like a prudish dolt. Instead, he said something even more idiotic, “You’ve seen the book before.”

“I found it while I was searching for—” She shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about that. I want to talk about the woman in the book. Fanny Hill. She embraces a new life after finding herself under the care of Mrs. Brown, a London brothel owner. I thought I might learn from Fanny’s experiences, since they appeared similar to mine.”

He was more than willing to help her learn, to be the one to teach her. Confusion made his mind swell with questions. She sounded like she’d never done what she’d shown him in the book. How could that be? A full year had passed since she started working at the Star.

“Gertie said the courts banned the book for obscenity. I’m glad it found a home in this room.” She leaned toward him. “I’m glad I’m in this room right now with you.”

His thoughts narrowed to one. He needed to hold her face in his hands and kiss her senseless. Lord knew he was already in that state. If he dropped his trousers right now, would she put her hands on him as well?

She moved even closer, like she just might. Then she swayed back and nearly toppled over. He reached out to catch her, but halted when he realized she was trembling so violently the bed shook. Her face had gone pale as moonlight.

Worry doused his lust faster than a head-first tumble into a river. “Sadie, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?”

He caught her before she fell flat on the mattress. Her skin was ice cold. It chilled him to the bone and left him shaking as well.

She stared at him with sad eyes. “That didn’t go as I’d planned.”

He drew the coverlet over her and carefully tucked it around her shoulders and chin. “In the morning, once you’ve rested and recovered your strength, you can make a new plan.” He arranged a pair of chairs by her bedside.

“You’ll be gone when I wake up.”

He sat down in one chair, propped his feet in the other. “I’ll be sitting right here.” He pulled her hand from under the coverlet and held it firmly in his.

She stared at his hand enveloping hers. Finally, her smile returned.

He felt his lips curve as well. “Me promising not to lay a finger on you wasn’t a well thought out idea. Try to sleep.”

“I don’t want to close my eyes.”

Did she think she’d have nightmares about the men succeeding in getting her onto their train? He certainly would. He’d never forget that horror. “You’re safe. I won’t let anyone touch you. Not even me.” He winked at her. “My hand won’t wander from yours.”

“I’m not worried about tonight. It’s tomorrow that concerns me.”

She feared that Gertie wouldn’t heed his warning to forgo her punishment for running away.

He shared her fear. What could he say to ease her mind? Not much. Not unless he lied. His grip on her hand tightened. He forced himself to relax and stroked his thumb over the back of her hand to make up for squeezing the daylights out of her fingers…and probably making her worry even more.

“I’ll be beside you all night,” he said. “The only way I’m leaving this room is with you by my side. Hopefully your hand will still be in mine when I do.”

“I like the sound of that and holding your hand. I think I’d like holding other parts of you as well, like Fanny Hill did with the man in her book.”

He groaned. He wasn’t going to get a second of sleep tonight with that image in his mind. “Go to sleep. There’ll be plenty of time to talk in the morning.”

Her eyes drifted closed. “Edward told me his parents always greeted each other with a kiss in the morning.” Her smile faded. “Mine never did. Will you kiss me in the morning?”

“Sadie...” Her name came out hoarse. He deemed it a miracle he could utter a single word. “If you’re feeling better in the morning, I’d like nothing better than to kiss you.”

* * *

“You’re sure your
health’s improved this morning?” Noah’s voice was so quiet she barely heard him. The fact that a whole room separated them didn’t help.

Her fingers stalled on the hooks of her corset. Around the curtain of sheets, she snuck a peek at him sitting on the bed as he pulled on his boots. A minute ago, one of Gertie’s girls had woken them both with a knock on the door. A second after that, the door had opened.

Sadie had received new clothing while Noah got a message from the madam.
Your time’s up.

Now a never-ending stream of women flowed in and out of the room. They removed the bathwater by the bucketful, along with any hope of sharing a private conversation…or a good-morning kiss.

Noah yanked on his vest as he crossed to join her behind the sheet. Fixing her gaze on her corset, she willed her fingers to stop trembling and secure the last clasp.

“Sadie…” Her name on his lips was as soft as a sigh. Or maybe a prayer.

She swept her hands over her ruffled shirt and grimaced at the short length. “Yes?” Her response shot out. Sharp. Scared.

Noah’s fingers brushed her cheeks. His gentle touch, so at odds with the brisk movements of the women invading the room, made her jump.

He tucked her hair behind her ears and, holding her face in his palms, slid his thumbs over her cheekbones as if searching for his answer in the chaotic scroll of her freckles. The reverent gesture fortified her with hope. So did the memory of how he’d held her hand all night…and asked for nothing in return.

Dodge bombarded men with opportunities for self-indulgent acts, but Noah seemed fascinated by the simplest of pleasures. Not that there was anything simple about the way he made her feel.