Rivals (38 page)

But she would have no such protective garment with Jackson. She went hot at the thought, aware that just to be seen in her petticoats by a man was considered scandalous. Worse, the heat she felt wasn't embarrassment. What a wicked woman she was to want to expose herself and excite him further. But that was exactly what she desired. Exactly.

The corset cover hung loose about her. She moaned softly as he pushed her arms down to the side, then slipped the silk garment from her, his hands smooth against her skin, not callused and rough like Kell's. Unerringly his fingers moved to the laces at the back of her corset. Some distant part of her idly marveled that the workings of a woman's undergarments held no mysteries for him. Then she was drawing her first unfettered breath, a breath that ended in a tiny shudder.

With the corset vanquished, he untied the strings to her rose-colored petticoat of quilted satin and let it fall about her legs in a rustling whisper. When he picked her up and lifted her out of it, she felt as weightless as a babe. Held close to him, she made another discovery. The fine muslin of her combination and its frills of torchon lace proved to be no barrier against the sensation of his hard-muscled body pressed against her flesh. She could feel every flexing ripple through the thin fabric as he carried her the few feet to the bed. There, he slowly lowered her feet to the floor, turning her to face him as he did so and letting her body slide upright against him, making her aware of every masculine contour in the process.

She could hardly breathe, her senses assaulted on all sides by him. And the affliction wasn't eased by the quick claiming of her lips in another intimately delving kiss. Its power was such that at first she wasn't aware of the deft manipulations of fingers at the front opening of her combination. Then she felt the touch of his hand against her bare skin. Reaction splintered through her in needle-sharp tingles of surprise and delight. She sagged against him, letting him take all her weight, but he sank under it to sit on the edge of the bed, drawing her with him to stand between his spraddled legs.

Dazed, she looked down, her hands clutching at the ridges of his shoulders for balance. A tension gripped her as she watched him spread the front of her combination open, starting at her stomach and gliding up through the valley between her breasts, then branching to expose the bones of her shoulders. She brought her arms down to her sides so he could slip it off, her breath now running shallow and fast, matching the ragged, quick-hammer beat of her pulse.

As he pushed the one-piece garment over her shoulders, the fine muslin briefly caught on the hardened points of her breasts, then sprang free of them. She saw the way his eyes devoured her breasts, and closed her own, a melting heat starting somewhere in her midsection and spreading. She waited to feel the caress of his hands as he slowly pulled the combination chemise and drawers down her arms. Just below her elbows, he stopped and gave the back of the garment a twist, pinning her arms out straight behind her, throwing her shoulders back and her breasts forward.

Startled, Ann looked down, her lips parting in a question that she never had a chance to form as he spread a hand over her flat stomach and moved it up, up, up, then finally reached the underswell of a breast. He glanced up and saw her watching him. The darkening light in his eyes almost made her want to swoon, but she didn't want to miss any of the delights his eyes promised. And delight there was as he began to nuzzle her breasts, kissing and licking at their nipples until Ann quivered in reaction, an ache coiling ever tighter and centering ever lower in her stomach.

With one final pull of the garment, he freed her arms. Immediately she dug her fingers into his hair and pressed his face to her breast, ending the teasing of his lips. She bowed her head against the awesome pressure that continued to build inside her. Through heavy, half-closed eyes, she watched him tug his shirt off and give it a fling across the room. Then his hands were back on her, rolling the undergarment down over her hips. She was aware of his actions, yet she wasn't. As in a dream, everything blurred together, things happening without her paying attention to the how of them—like the way she ended up on the bed.

Yet, as in a dream, too, certain things stood out very sharply, a single moment held in time—like the way he had left her to strip off his trousers and drawers, then came back to fill her vision. She had never seen a man unclothed before. She stared at his wide shoulders and leanly muscled chest with its smattering of curly dark hairs. Her glance drifted lower to the hard flatness of his stomach, then lower to his stiffened organ. A breath caught in her throat. She hadn't known a man's body could be so beautiful. Some distant part of her wondered if Kell looked like that beneath the long nightshirt she'd always insisted he wear to bed.

But the thought no more than registered when it vanished as Jackson lowered himself onto her, using his legs to wedge hers apart. The fever that had heated her body cooled somewhat under the settling weight of him on top of her and the sensation of his bony hardness against her inner thigh. This part she knew all too well. She felt the first twinge of disappointment as his lips teased the corner of her mouth, his warm breath rolling across her skin. But there was no positioning of her hips, no awkward, probing attempt at entry. Instead, his hands were busy touching and stroking, moving over her with wayward ease, their path unencumberd by any voluminous nightgown. Ann began to relax and enjoy once more, taking advantage of the chance to run her hands over the bareness of his muscled arms and shoulders and revel in the sensation of skin against skin.

When his mouth transferred its attention from her lips to her neck and the hollow of her throat, she moaned in soft pleasure, liking the little shivers his nibblings sent dancing over her flesh. And she arched in eagerness when he bent his head to suckle at her breasts again. But they didn't seem to satisfy his hunger for the taste of her skin as his grazing mouth wandered lower, feeding on each curve of her ribs. When his moist lips traveled onto her stomach, her muscles contracted sharply, that curling ache intensifying until she wanted to cry out at the tormenting sweetness of it. And Jackson was doing nothing to ease it. On the contrary, his only interest seemed to be in kissing every inch of her.

When she realized his exploring kisses were taking him into a forbidden area, she made a panicked attempt to stop him. “Don't. You—” Jolted by the sudden hot sensation that swept through her, Ann jammed a fist into her mouth and tried to bite back the animal sound that rose from her throat.

A wildness claimed her. Unable to control it, she abandoned herself completely to it, writhing and twisting with eyes closed, fingers digging at the bedcovers beneath her, a sheen of perspiration breaking out all over her. When the pressure within built to an intolerable level, suddenly he was on top of her again, sliding effortlessly in and burying himself deep. This time she didn't even try to check the soft cry—or any of the other raw sounds that rolled from her as he began to move inside her.

Sprawled across the bed, a bedsheet halfheartedly draped across her hips, Ann felt gloriously limp and empty. Still faintly dazzled by the wonder of the experience, she turned her head to look at the man who had shared it with her. He was watching her, the glint in his eyes holding both a trace of satisfaction and amusement. She rolled onto her side and arched close to him, feeling like a purring cat as she threaded her fingers through the silken hairs on his chest.

“Proud of yourself, are you?” she murmured, peering at him through the tops of her lashes. “Now that you've had me.”

Reaching out, he snared her waist and pulled her closer still. “Aren't you?”

“Deliciously so.” She rubbed her head against his shoulder, feeling even more like a contented feline. “I didn't know it could be like that.” She smiled, convinced she'd discovered the most incredible secret.

“All you needed was a man to show you.”

She sighed an agreement to that, recognizing that her husband certainly never had. By nature, Kell wasn't a demonstrative man, his feelings invariably contained behind that hard wall of reserve. She thought back to the times she'd lain with him, remembering the tender restraint of his kisses and his touch. Never once had he attempted to take her out of herself—not the way Jackson Stuart had. In fact, she'd always had the impression that Kell never expected her to enjoy any of it—that he got it over with quickly out of deference to her.

But was that her fault? she wondered, recalling their wedding night and how rigid with fear she'd been. Kell had showered her with ardent kisses that night; the caress of his hands had been eager and bold, but she'd been stiff and completely unresponsive. Too many of her married friends had hinted at how awful it was. Even her father had lectured her on her wifely duty to submit to her husband's demands, implying that his exercise of conjugal rights was something to be endured. And that terrible, ripping pain had confirmed everything they'd said. Afterward, she had cried and cried, resisting all of Kell's attempts to console her, hating to feel even the touch of his hands, let alone to be taken in his arms.

Perhaps it wasn't surprising that her husband had become something less than an ardent lover. It was what she'd wanted. She didn't want to think about Kell—not now. But she had to. He'd be arriving this afternoon.

Suddenly she was assailed by a whole hosts of doubts and uncertainties. “Jackson, will I—will I see you, again?” The possibility that she wouldn't seemed unbearable.

He tucked a hand under her chin and lifted her head from his shoulder, his gaze warmly possessive as it moved over her face. “Do you think I could stay away from you now—after this?”

The tension left her in a faint tremor of relief. “I didn't know. I wasn't sure,” she admitted, smiling at her doubts. But the smile faded as a new thought occurred to her. “But how? With Kell here—”

“Not here. Not Kansas City.” His fingers moved caressingly over her face, stroking her cheek and her lips, tracing their curves and hollows in loving detail. “When your husband arrives this afternoon, I want you to convince him that you're tired of the city, that you miss the peace and serenity of Morgan's Walk—that you're eager to go home.”

“He'd never believe me.” She turned from his hand, loathing the thought of going back there, but Jackson wouldn't let her pull away.

“He'll believe you,” he stated confidently. “He'll believe you because it's the very thing he desires.”

“How can you ask me to go back there when you know how much I hate it?”

He smiled at the shimmer of resentment in her eyes. Not once had she suggested leaving her husband for him. If the thought had crossed her mind, Jackson Stuart was certain she would have instantly dismissed it. It was something her pride wouldn't allow. She was a doctor's daughter who had married above herself. No matter how miserable or wretchedly unhappy she was, Ann Morgan wasn't about to give up her newfound wealth and status—not for love, especially when he'd told her that he had nothing else to offer her. In her own way, Ann Morgan was just as greedy as he was.

“I want you to go back, my darling, because it's the safest place for us to meet,” he said.

Confusion darkened her eyes. “The safest? How? If you start coming to the house—”

“Not the house. We'll meet in Tulsa. You make trips into town twice a month for mail and supplies, don't you?”

“Yes.”

“And when you're there, don't you usually take a room at the hotel so you have a place to rest and freshen up?” He already knew the answer to that. In fact, he was certain he knew her habits better than she did.

“Yes.”

“Then, we'll meet there in your room—where we can be alone.”

“But—what if we're discovered?”

“We won't be. The desk clerk's a friend of mine. He'll warn us if anyone comes. And don't worry, my love. We won't have to meet in secret for long…just until I can find a way for us to have the kind of life we want,” he said against her lips, then claimed them in another long, drugging kiss. He was already sure of the way, but until he was sure of her, he wouldn't take the final steps.

Ann was at the train station to meet Kell when he arrived that afternoon. And, just as Jackson Stuart had predicted, she had no difficulty convincing her husband that she was homesick. Three days later, the entire Morgan entourage boarded the train to return to Morgan's Walk.

Ten days later, she went to town and took a room at the Tulsa House as usual. She barely had time to remove her dust cloak and hat when she heard a furtive tap on the door. With heart pounding, she hurried to open it. Less than a minute later, it was once again closed and locked and she was in Jackson Stuart's arms.

25

March 27, 1894

I fear Chris has found out about us. I shouldn't have gone into town when I was there only last week, but another seven days seemed such a long time to wait before seeing Jackson again that I had to go. Rarely can we spend more than an hour together, but those stolen hours are what have made my life bearable these last few months. What a wanton woman I have become, yet I feel no shame—only guilt at the way I must deceive Kell
.

And now fear as well that Chris may convey his suspicions to Kell. I know he must suspect something. He looked at me so strangely when I opened the door to admit him. And well he should have, for my clothes and hair were all disarranged from my haste in dressing, and my chin was reddened by the sharp stubble on Jackson's face. Next time I must insist that he shaves immediately before he meets me. Next time. I pray there will be one, and that all my fears are foolish imaginings and that Chris's odd silence during the ride home meant nothing. Yet I'm certain that, as quickly as Chris arrived after Jackson had left, he must have passed him in the hall. Did he see him leave my room as well?