Donovan's Bed: The Calhoun Sisters, Book 1 (28 page)

“Open my Levi’s,” he said when she’d gotten the belt undone. His dark eyes had narrowed to slits as he leaned back against the wall of the stall, his strong, sun-tanned hands kneading her pale breasts. Her fingers trembled as she finally succeeded in getting his Levi’s open. “Now touch me, Sarah.”

He wasn’t wearing anything underneath, she realized, scandalized and excited at the same time. She trailed her fingers along the velvety smooth flesh of his hardness, delighting in the way he responded to her touch, the way the muscles of his flat belly rippled as she stroked that very sensitive part of his body.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered, watching her through nearly closed eyes. He kept playing with her breasts, his thighs like iron beneath her bottom. “I’ve got to get inside you.”

“Yes,” she replied, kneeling. He tugged his denims down to his thighs, then took her hips in his hands, holding the chemise out of the way, and lowered her slowly onto his hard shaft.

“That’s it,” he murmured. “Take all of it, sweetheart.”

She braced her hands on his shoulders and shifted, each movement bringing him deeper inside. Finally he was fully seated within her, and she settled back down, her thighs spread wide over his. He took her mouth in a slow kiss as he started to move.

Sarah moaned, leaning her head back. She met each hard thrust with equal strength, riding him like a prize stallion. He kissed her breasts, nipped at the nipples, then gripped her hips and vigorously plunged deep inside her over and over again.

“Jack!” she moaned, digging her nails hard into his shoulders. Tension swelled inside her, and she bit his neck, not caring that she left marks. His mouth found hers, and he swallowed her scream of release as orgasm ripped through her.
 

She melted against him, her body a boneless mass of tingling pleasure, as he continued to move deep inside her. He gave a long, guttural moan, his back arching and his head hitting the wall behind him as he gripped her hips and followed her over the edge.

They stayed like that for long moments, until their heartbeats slowed and the perspiration dried on their skin.
 

“Jack?” Sarah said, her words muffled against his bare chest.

“What, sweetheart?”

“Don’t treat me like china anymore.”

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “My pleasure, sassy girl.”

Susannah had worked herself into a royal temper by the time she made it over to the clinic. She burst into the infirmary and found herself looking down the barrel of a revolver held by the steady hand of the man standing in the middle of the room.
 

“Oh, for heavens sake,” she said with exasperation. “Put it away, Marshal. I’m unarmed.”

Jedidiah Brown lowered the weapon and scanned her figure with male appreciation. “Well, Miss Calhoun, I wouldn’t exactly say that.”

Despite herself, Susannah felt a flutter in the vicinity of her heart. She took refuge in anger. “You dare to flirt with me? You are an impossible man.”

“So I’ve been told.” The marshal went over to the bed and slipped the weapon back under his pillow, then turned and regarded Susannah with interest. “Now, Miss Calhoun, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

“I’ve come to have a word with you about your incredible lack of manners, Marshal Brown.”

“Is that so? My mama would be right disappointed.”

“Don’t you dare joke about this,” Susannah snapped. “What possessed you to upset my sister at her wedding?”

Jedidiah frowned. “Mrs. Donovan is upset? Why?”

“Don’t play games with me, Marshal. Better men than you have tried.”

“Really?” His eyes took on a bold gleam that made her want to take a step back. But she would die before she moved an inch. “I’ll have to try harder then.”

Susannah let out an exasperated sigh. “I want my sister to be happy. But you and your innuendoes about Donovan upset her, and at her wedding, no less!”

“You don’t say.” His expression grew shuttered. “I do apologize. I wasn’t aware that my observations had caused the lady distress.”

She sent him a glare that had been known to freeze men where they stood. “Any woman would be distressed if a stranger started hinting that he knew secrets about her new husband at her wedding!”

“You have my word that I will apologize to your sister at the first opportunity,” the marshal said smoothly. “Now that you’ve said what you’ve come to say, shall I show you out?”

She managed to look down her nose at him, though he was a head taller. “I’m surprised. I had expected this discussion to be more…stimulating.”

“You mean you expected an argument. Sorry to disappoint you.”

“Marshal, it seems that you are
destined
to disappoint me.”

“Oh?” He moved so swiftly that she missed it just by blinking. Suddenly he was there, taking her chin in his hand. “Stick around for a few more minutes, Miss Calhoun, and things will definitely get ‘stimulating’.”

She hated the way her pulse sped up. “You, sir, are an ill-bred lout.”

He caressed her lips with his thumb. “You’ve got a tongue like a razor blade.”

She narrowed her eyes. “And you’ve got the intellect of a blade of grass. Now release me at once.”

“Of course.” His hand dropped to his side, but an arrested expression appeared in his eyes. “A blade of grass, you say?”

“That’s what I said,” she sniffed.

“Just what are you trying to tell me?” he murmured.

She rolled her eyes. “I thought it was obvious. You truly are a difficult man.”

“Only to my enemies, Miss Calhoun.” As if he had all the time in the world, he lifted her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, his sherry-colored gaze holding her captive for a long, breathless moment. “Now, did you really come here about your sister, or did you come to me for another reason?”

She stiffened even as her pulse sped like a runaway train. “Marshal Brown, I came here solely on my sister’s behalf. Perhaps I should speak more slowly so that you can understand.”

“I understand what you’re saying. Now let’s see what you’re not saying.” He leaned forward and pressed his mouth to hers in a slow, easy kiss that she could have broken without effort. Yet she didn’t move, trapped in the spell of his mouth on hers. When he pulled back and looked at her, she had the feeling that he’d been places she’d allowed no other man, seen things that she didn’t want anyone else to see.
 

He licked his lips as if still savoring the taste of her. “It’s a crying shame I can’t stick around these parts and see where this is going.”

She jerked back the hand he still held. “
This
is not going anywhere. And I, for one, will be most happy to see the back of you.”

He laughed. “I’d like to see
all
of you, princess…But my duties take me all over the territory, and I can’t afford to be tied down.”

“You presume too much, Marshal.” Her cheeks burning, she scalded him with a look of contempt. “I merely came here to deliver a message.”

“I know why you came here, princess. Probably better than you do.”

She clenched her fingers, tempted to slap the amusement from his face. Glancing at her fisted hands, he raised one tawny brow, and his eyes hardened to chips of ice.

“I wouldn’t,” he warned.

For a moment she was tempted to ignore his advice. But something about his battle-ready stance made her back off. Eyeing him as if he were a particularly nasty bug, she said regally, “Since your manners show no signs of improvement, I have nothing more to say to you. Good day, Marshal.”

“Allow me to escort you to the door.” He took her arm, all but dragging her along.

“Marshal—” Unused to being dominated, Susannah dug in her heels simply out of principle. As much as she wanted to leave the irritating man’s company, she would do so when she desired to and not a moment before.

“Give my regards to your mother and sister.” He jerked open the door.

Susannah braced herself in the doorway, using her parasol to prop open the door when he would have shoved her through it. “Marshal Brown, never in my life have I—”

“I’m astonished to hear that, princess.” His lips quirked in a roguish grin. “I would have presumed that a woman of your looks and temperament
would
have by now.”

She gasped as his innuendo sank in, but before she could respond, he pulled the parasol from her hand and flung it through the door. “Are you mad?” she exclaimed. “That parasol comes all the way from Paris!”

He shoved his face close to hers. “You want to argue about it? Or maybe you’re not so anxious to leave after all?”

Her breathing hitched as she realized that his lips were mere inches from hers. “Don’t you dare kiss me again,” she whispered.

He looked at her mouth and seemed to be considering her words. Susannah’s blood thundered in her ears. There was nothing in the world she wanted more than for him to kiss her again. And nothing in the world she feared more.

Her body started to tremble as the tension grew. She moistened her lips and glanced at his mouth. Would he kiss her again?

Suddenly he straightened and gave her a charming smile.

“I never disappoint a lady.”

Yanking her away from the doorframe, he shoved her into the hall, then swatted her on the bottom for emphasis. Slamming the door, he leaned back against it, disregarding her screech of outrage from the other side. Flirtations aside, Susannah had managed to convey her message successfully.
 

“Blade,” he said with a slow grin. “I’ll be damned.”

Chapter Seventeen

Monday morning, Sarah set the type for the newest edition of the
Burr Chronicle
. She hummed as she worked, more content than she had been in a very long time. She had left the door standing open to enjoy the sweet June breeze, and only moments before, she had seen Emmaline and Juliana hurry by. She had thought it was odd that they didn’t stop in, as was their usual habit, but then she realized why they hadn’t.
 

They had nothing to gossip about.

She was a happily married woman now, and that had restored the respectability she lost three years earlier. Or had it been her husband who had done that? Either way, the Tremont sisters no longer had the ammunition to keep firing their nasty barbs. It was a welcome change.
 

The sound of booted footsteps made her look up from her work as a thrill shot through her. But her heart slowed as she realized that it was Marshal Brown who had come to see her, not Jack.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Donovan,” the marshal said, removing his hat. “I wonder if I might have a moment of your time.”

“Of course, Marshal.” Sarah put down the type and picked up a rag, wiping the smudges of ink from her fingers. “What can I do for you today?”

“Well, first of all, I’d like to remind you to call me Jedidiah. And secondly, I’d be obliged if you’d put a notice about Petrie in your paper. I want all the folks in the area to be warned about him.”

“Already done, Jedidiah. I wrote the article myself.”
 

“Well, then.” The lawman hesitated. “Mind if I close the door, ma’am?”

Intrigued, Sarah shrugged. “Go ahead.”

The marshal went to the door and glanced outside before firmly shutting it. Then he came back to Sarah.

She frowned at his odd behavior. “Jedidiah, whatever is going on?”

“I just wanted to have a few words with you, Mrs. Donovan, to let you know how sorry I am about what happened on your wedding day.”

Sarah sat on the edge of her desk, dread knotting in the pit of her stomach. “What about my wedding day?”

The marshal fingered the brim of his hat. “I understand that I upset you, ma’am, and I’d like to apologize. I imagine that your husband doesn’t want it to get around that he used to be a bounty hunter. People tend to react funny to that sort of thing.”
 

Stunned, she replied. “Yes. Yes, they do.” A bounty hunter? Jack?
 

The marshal slipped his hat back on and sent her a grin. “But at least you can rest easy about Petrie, ma’am. I can’t see him coming up against Blade and winning.”
 

“I guess so,” she murmured. Her mind didn’t seem to want to absorb what she was being told. Had the marshal actually said that
her husband
was the bounty hunter known as Blade? Or had she misunderstood?
 

Something must have shown on her face, because the marshal’s expression turned to one of concern. “But don’t worry, Mrs. Donovan,” he soothed, “your secret is safe with me. After all, it’s not as if Blade is a wanted man or anything. He always worked within the boundaries of the law.”

He kept talking about Blade as if she knew the notorious tracker personally—and that could only mean one thing. She squeezed her eyes closed as if she could shut away the truth. Somehow she, Sarah Calhoun, had married the most ruthless bounty hunter ever to ride the trail. For one wild moment she hoped it was a mistake. But the marshal kept talking, confirming her worst fears with every word.