Fool for Love (Montana Romance) (30 page)

A moan that had nothing to do with pleasure escaped from her throat before she could stop it.  She pulled up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and squeezing her eyes shut.  Only a wretch would still feel the stirrings of pleasure when her lover spoke to her like that, and yet she had never stopped.  She’d enjoyed pleasuring Nick that way, or at least she’d enjoyed the way he caressed and fawned over her once he’d come.

“Amelia?”

No, she told herself, following Eric’s prompt and closing her lips over the head of his shaft once more.  No, she’d done what she’d done for the pleasure it gave her, for the pleasure it still gave her.  Eric was steel hard and whisper soft against her tongue and she was a fool to want him the way she did.

“Amelia, stop.”

Her senses returned with a gasp.  She lifted her head to look at him as he shifted to prop himself on his elbows.  The flash in his eyes was alarmed and baffled.  He saw something in her face and surged forward to pull her up across his body and into his arms.  He wiped a thumb across her cheek.  She hadn’t realized she’d been crying.

“My God, Amelia, what’s wrong?”

He twisted to lay her on her side, sheltering her body with his.  His arm circled around her back, sensual but not seductive, ready to protect her.

She couldn’t answer him, turned her wet face into the pillow.

“You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to,” he said.  There was more uncertainty in his voice than she had ever heard.  He held her close, stroking her back and shoulders.  As usual, neither of them had bothered to unpin her hair from its elaborate style.  He sought out the pins now in silence, tossing them to the side and working his fingers through her hair.  She closed her eyes and struggled to control her breathing, the pounding of her heart.

“Whatever it is, it’ll be all right,” he told her, rubbing her sore scalp.  “I’m here.  I’m not going anywhere.”

“It’s not that,” she replied in a hoarse whisper.  No further thoughts came to her mind.

He didn’t ask for them.  He didn’t ask for anything.  Instead he gave comfort, kissing her forehead and the bridge of her nose with gentle insistence.  When he reached her lips she met his kiss with all the longing of her heart.  She closed her arms around him, holding him close and wishing that they could be this way forever.

“I love you, Amelia.”  He kissed the words into her lips, her cheeks, her neck.  “Let me love you.  Just let me love you.”

It would be so easy.  It was everything she wanted.  She sighed and let him mold her body into his as he rolled her to her back.  The sensation of his hips against the tingling flesh of her inner thighs was as familiar as home.  His breath near her ear was like the warm summer breezes that had ruffled the fields of her childhood, when life was safe and people still good.  He wasted no time surging into her, plumbing her with intimate thrusts, tender and true.  She sighed, arching into him, eyes closed as if she could make all the misery haunting her go away.

“Tell me you want me, Amelia,” he said, low and gentle.  His body rocked into hers with beautiful slowness, deep and soulful and so careful of the curve of her stomach.  “Tell me you love me too.”

She loved him.  She loved him with a passion that ran so deep she couldn’t comprehend it.  His body melded with hers, but it was the warm glow of his love that she felt far beyond the pleasure of his body.  Everything in her loved him, but she couldn’t speak.

His pace changed.  The gentle urgency with which he made love to her shifted to harder, stronger thrusts.  Relief washed through Amelia as his insistence enflamed her own response.  He would give her this moment, this perfect completeness, without demanding that she tell him what she couldn’t say.  She couldn’t let the words pass her lips.  If she did she would be gone forever.

Instead she let herself go to the pleasure of coupling with him.  His movements grew urgent, the low rumble in his throat matched the cries each of his thrusts drew from her.  She closed her eyes and let herself go to the wonder of it, rolling into waves of pleasure that filled her body and let her mind and heart drift away.

He reached his climax with a low growl and tension that flared then gave way to loose relaxation.  His breathing still came heavily as he eased to her side, careful not to crush her.  In spite of the heat and damp of their bodies he held her close, stroking her hair as they each caught their breath.

“I love you,” he repeated, kissing her forehead and her lips.  “Whatever’s got a hold on you, that’s the only thing that matters.  I love you.”

She nodded, if only to give him the assurance he needed.  It worked.  He let out a long breath and she could feel the last vestiges of tension disappear from his muscles.  He shifted to his back but she stayed close to him, resting her head in the crook of his arm.

She felt as small as a child, the child she was when things first began to go wrong.  That fear was still there, but hushed.  Amelia closed her eyes and spread her hand over Eric’s thumping heart.

Maybe, just maybe, she could give in and let her heart be his.

Chapter Seventeen

For the first time since coming home to Cold Springs, when Eric heard the train whistle his gut didn’t fill with anxiety.  He knew with reasonable certainty that Amelia wouldn’t pack up her things and bolt.  A satisfied grin touched his lips as the whistle hooted on in vain while he winked across the breakfast table at his beautiful wife.

He had almost forgotten that
they weren’t actually married.

“I thought we could go out to the ranch again today,” he said, watching to judge her reaction.

Amelia sat straighter, blinking as a flush filled her cheeks.  “Really?  I thought you didn’t want me to go back?”

“Now what gave you a fool idea like that?”  He stabbed at the last of his breakfast with his fork.

It took too long for her to reply, “You didn’t take me back after last time and there was so much to do.  I thought … I thought you had decided I was useless.”

“Amelia, you are anything but useless,” he laughed.  “In fact, if you’re willing, the house and everything in it is yours to spruce up any way you want.”

“Well, I….”

“I mean, I’m not saying I want to put you to work and all,” he rushed to correct himself.  “I just figured maybe you’d want to arrange things the way you feel comfortable with.”  After all, if she was going to live there for the rest of her life….

“Oh, I didn’t see it as a work order at all,” she said.  “If you want me to help I most certainly will.”  A whole slew of emotions played their way across her face, the good ones winning this time.  It was as beautiful to watch as a sunrise.

“Good.”

“Besides, I think you’re a civilizing influence on Curtis.  On me too.”  He winked.

Her smile warmed his heart.  He could have sat there and watched her all day, watched the way she squared her shoulders and sat like a proper lady, watched the flush of thought swirl through her expression, watch the way she made up her mind about her thoughts then went back to shoveling down her breakfast in as though it was her last meal.  She was more than he could ever have dreamed of.

“Mr. Quinlan?  Mr. Quinlan?”  One of the hotel’s bellhops came dashing into the dining room.  He held a packet in his hands and nearly tripped over himself when he saw Eric and changed directions.  “Mr. Quinlan, this just came in for you.  I was fetching the hotel mail and Mr. Jones said to bring it to you straight away.  It’s from Canada!”

Eric’s lazy comfort burst into full excitement.  “Thanks Roy,” he said, taking the packet from the young man, who scurried off.

He turned the large envelope over in his hands.  He recognized his name quicker than anything else, then strained to get the words in the top corner to settle down.

“It’s from Ben,” he told Amelia, heart pounding.

“Would you like me to….”  She finished her sentence by holding out her hand across the table.

Eric passed the envelope gratefully to her.  Amelia opened it and pulled out a sheaf of papers.  She set most of the stack on the table but kept one sheet and read it aloud.

“‘Dear Mr. Quinlan (and your lovely wife)’.”  She blushed and read on.  “‘Enclosed please find the contract for our business transaction, as drawn up by my legal staff.  One copy is for you to keep and the other should be signed and sent back to me.  I trust you will find it all in order.  If you have any questions, please let me know.  And if you would, telephone me when you receive these documents so that my mind can rest easy.  Your friend, Ben.’”

Amelia looked up, the excitement Eric felt reflected in her eyes.  “I’m so happy for you!”

“Happy for us, you mean.”  Before the clouds could fall over her again he said, “You know this is your doing.  I always give credit where credit is due.”

She must have been in a good mood.  All she said was, “You deserve as much credit as I do.  Do you want me to read the contract to you?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered.

Eric scooted his chair around the breakfast table so that he could glance over Amelia’s shoulder as she read the contract.  He was expecting something convoluted, but somehow he understood every one of the points and obligations Ben spelled out.  It was just as he’d said on the ship, simple, straight-forward, and beneficial to the both of them.  For the thousandth time he thanked his lucky stars that Amelia had had a sharp enough head on her shoulders to spot the opportunity.

“Well now that that’s done,” he said when she reached the end, “Let’s go give Ben a call.”

He stood, taking the two copies of the contract from her and giving the top one a once-over.  Maybe he’d get her to read it to him again while he followed along.  He’d like to see those dancing words defy her!

His shiny mood continued as he strode down Main Street, Amelia on his arm.  The good citizens of Cold Springs greeted them with smiles and nods, tips of their hats and an outright handshake on the part of Angus McGee, who offered him one of his fancy cigars, which was saying something.  Folks recognized Amelia as well, wishing her well and commenting on her looks.  He was as proud as punch.

“Lewis, I need to use your telephone,” he announced as they walked into the stationhouse.

Lewis was absorbed in copying out the message of a telegraph as it clicked and clacked away on the great contraption taking up most of the table beside his desk.

“Go right on back,” he said, not looking up at them.  “I’ll be there to show you how to use it in a second.”

“I know how to use a telephone,” Eric replied, sharing a wry grin with Amelia.  She even smiled in return.

They stepped into Lewis’s cluttered office.  The shades were half-drawn, lending a dim, mysterious air to the room.  The rest of the day’s mail waited on the counter in the back of the room to be sorted.  A small pile of unclaimed luggage took up another corner.  The telephone hung on the wall that joined the office with the main room of the stationhouse.  Eric swung Amelia off his arm as though they were at a dance and kissed her hand.

“Ben’s telephone number was written on his letter,” she reminded him.  “Do you need me to read it out to you?”

Her smile was bright and genuine, even though it wavered with those old emotions he’d seen too much of since London.  At least sunshin
e seemed to win out this time.

“Nah, I got it,” he said.

He fished the contract and its letter out of his pocket and picked up the telephone’s earpiece.  He jiggled the receiver a few times before the operator picked up the call, then told her the extension for Ben’s office.  All he had to do then was sit back and wait.

“I can borrow that wagon again to drive you out to the ranch,” he said, leaning against the wall.  “I shoulda thought to bring one of mine back into town with us last time.  You certainly can’t ride, not in your condition.”

“I would like to ride again at some point,” she said.  As quickly as the admission crossed her lips she was silent, her eyes darting to the side.

He would let it pass.  She wasn’t going to leave, not now, no matter what she thought.

“Hello?” a voice said on the other end of the line.

“Ben!” Eric exclaimed.

“Eric Quinlan?”

“Yeah, it’s me.  We got your contract.”

“Glad to hear it, glad to hear it.”  Ben’s voice may have been crackling and distant, but Eric could still hear the smile in it.  “How are you and your lovely wife?  I trust you had a safe voyage home.”

“We did indeed.  And you?”

“Fine, fine.”  Before Eric could stop to marvel at how the conversation they were having was even possible, Ben went on with, “So what did you think about the contract?  Everything in order?”

“Just like you said it would be.”  Eric nodded as though he were talking face to face with Ben.  Amelia watched him, flushed with curiosity.

“We’ll have to come up with a solution to the transportation problem, of course,” Ben said.

A frizzle of anxiety shot through Eric.  “What part was that?”

“Transportation methods and costs,” Ben said.  “It was on page two, I believe.  I have a copy right here.”  There was a pause.  “Do you need a minute to take a look at it?”