WM02 - Texas Princess (25 page)

ames.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she whispered from the doorway.

He lifted an eyebrow in understanding. “I’ve always had a problem with sleep, maybe because I spend so much time trying not to dream.”

She was about to turn and leave, when he stood and walked to her. Without a word, he bent and kissed her gently on the mouth.

Liberty couldn’t hold back a sigh. He felt so good. “Again,” she whispered. “If you don’t mind.” After al the sorrow of the day his light kiss felt like heaven.

He touched his mouth once more to hers. When she didn’t move, his arms encircled her waist and lifted her off the oor. She couldn’t help but laugh. His hold reminded her she was alive.

Without a word, he carried her back to the huge leather chair by the replace and sat, settling her atop him. For a moment he studied her, then kissed her again.

This time his mouth was hungry as his tongue pushed between her lips, tasting her, warming her. When she didn’t pul away, he tugged at the robe she’d borrowed and opened it. Only the cotton gown blocked his bold touch.

Liberty almost cried out in pleasure as he slipped his ngers over the gown and l ed his hand with her breast. She leaned back and let him kiss her neck, loving the way his hands molded her boldly to his liking. Loving the craving in his touch.

“I want you, Libby,” he whispered against her ear. “God, how I’ve wanted you since I awoke that morning without you by my side. I’ve tried to keep my distance, but it’s been torture.”

“I want you too,” she answered as the sadness of the day washed away. “I need you.”

The words seemed so simple, so poor a voicing of the desire to be near him, but they were the rst true words she could remember saying to a man. No games, no irting, no innuendos.

Suddenly, his hand was gone from her breast. He lifted her up as he stood and carried her to a pile of blankets in a shadowed corner.

She felt cold and alone when he walked away. He crossed to the door and closed it.

She heard the clank of a lock fal ing into place. Then he was back beside her, kneeling over her.

She’d expected him to lie beside her, but he remained above her, studying her. Slowly, he began to remove her clothes. The robe rst, then he unbuttoned al the buttons of her gown and spread the cotton aside. After staring for a moment, he shoved up the bottom of the borrowed gown and tugged it over her head.

Liberty lay back, completely nude. She knew she should have been shy, embarrassed maybe, but al she felt was alive. Stretching her hands above her head, she closed her eyes and smiled as he began to explore.

His hands molded down the sides of her body, outlining every curve.

“I want to look at you,” he whispered, his words ful of need. “I want to remember every inch of you.”

Liberty remembered her friends tel ing stories of lovers who were only interested in lifting their skirts. It appeared her lover was interested in far more.

“Lover.” She whispered the word against his shoulder as he bent to kiss the soft curve between her breasts. That’s what he was, her rst lover. Maybe she’d be one of those rich old maids who took lovers and never married.

He stil ed. “What did you say, Libby?” he asked, stil hovering so close to her esh she could feel his breath.

“Don’t stop,” she answered. “Please don’t stop.”

He laughed and ran the tip of his tongue down the center of her from her breast to her naval.

She jerked with sensation and he cupped his hand around her thigh to steady her.

With a tug he parted her legs and continued his journey lower.

When he returned to her mouth, she was panting for breath. “I thought about this,” he whispered as he kissed her lightly. “I swore if you ever came to my bed again, this time we would do it right, Libby. I promised myself that we would do it where I could see you, al of you, and I’d take my time. I promise we’l do it slow even if it takes us al night.”

She’d thought they did it right in the darkness in the fog, but he quickly corrected her opinion. She thought she knew herself, knew her body. He proved her wrong.

Fire owed in her veins as he moved over her. She loved the way he kissed, then tasted, her esh, making al the nerves come to the surface; then when he’d had his l he kissed the spot, leaving a promise to return.

Final y, he leaned close and wrapped her arms around him. “Hold on,” he whispered as he lifted her and carried her to the chair by the re. “I don’t want you getting cold.”

He sat down with her atop him once more. This time his need for her was obvious, pressing against her hip.

Kissing her so deeply she could think of no world but his arms, he moved his hand slowly down her body. Without breaking the kiss, he spread her leg over the arm of the chair and pressed his hand against her wetness. Gently, at rst, he explored her. Then his touch grew bold and a warmth spread from the very center of her.

When he moved his hand away, she cried softly in protest, but he only laughed against her ear and promised more. His kiss grew bolder as his hand moved once more to her breast.

“I’m going to get to know you tonight,” he whispered. “Al of you.” Then his mouth found hers.

When he nal y ended the kiss, she tore at the buttons of his shirt wanting to be closer. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as she rained kisses down his neck. Her hands moved over his chest loving the strong, solid feel of him.

His arm closed around her waist pul ing her against him. As the soft esh of her breasts pushed against his chest, he moaned in pure pleasure.

Smiling, she moved against him, skin on skin. The hair of his chest tickled across her.

When she lowered her mouth, his kiss was so tender it almost made her cry. She broke the kiss nal y and settled into his arms, her cheek against his shoulder.

He pul ed her braid free of the ribbon he’d given her and twisted her hair around his hand, then gently tugged until she raised her mouth to his. This time when he found her, his kiss grew deeper, demanding and giving at the same time. His hand stroked her once more with a need building in each embrace.

She moved in his lap loving the way she red his passion with a slight shift of her hip.

Suddenly, he lifted her up and carried her back to the blankets, only this time when he lay her down, his body covered her, heavy and hard with need.

She unbuckled his belt and he unbuttoned his trousers, feeling his longing for her pressing against the soft esh of her stomach as he kicked the last of his clothes aside. He entered her hard and fast, but she felt no pain. She loved the weight of him pressing down on her, warming her, touching al the parts of her body at once. His big hands moved around to her hips and he lifted her to him. She went, a wil ing sacrice to passion.

Drifting with rst one pleasure, then another, she tried not to wake the entire house by yel ing for more. His hard kiss bruised her lips and drank in her sighs. His chest pressed her breasts making them ache for his hands to caress them as his lower body built a re that spread through her.

When she thought she’d lose al grip on the world, his hands nal y moved up, gripping her breasts as he shoved into her. She cried out as pleasure shot threw her body.

He covered her mouth with his and continued l ing her again and again. The waves of passion kept washing over her. She fought, suddenly thinking she could endure no more without losing her sanity.

And then she did. Without warning one wave of pleasure crashed into her, shattering her body and soul. Libby shuddered and felt she would have left the ground if Tobin hadn’t anchored her to earth.

He pushed one more time deep inside her and she knew no matter what happened for this moment she was one with him. Joined body and soul.

For a while, she barely breathed. Then slowly, as the world around returned to her, she tried to gure out what had happened.

He moved to her side and pul ed a blanket over them both. She couldn’t form words to tel him that she wasn’t cold.

Cradling her in his arms, he kissed her cheeks lightly, washing away tears she hadn’t known were fal ing. The warmth of him, the feel of him, the nearness of him, were a part of her now, just as she was a part of him.

“Are you al right?” he whispered as he combed back her damp hair from her forehead.

“I think so,” she mumbled. She felt his hand rubbing against the skin of her stomach.

“And was that nice, my Libby?”

She buried her face against his throat, trying to think. Final y, she managed to whisper,

“No, that was far more than nice.”

He laughed and held her against his heart.

chapter 20

Y

sage spent most of the night next to Michael’s

cofn, reliving every minute they’d spent together. Then, almost welcoming night for once, she crossed to the house and climbed the stairs without light. Curling beneath the covers, Sage slept a few hours without dreams.

She woke long before dawn and slipped from her bed, hardly feeling the cold air that greeted her. Achy and heavy with grief, Sage moved like a ghost through the house.

Not only must she bury her ranger at dawn, but she’d also have to bury her dreams of a life that would never be.

In total blackness, Sage tiptoed downstairs and lit a lamp when she reached the main room. She hated the darkness. Maybe that was why she feared death so much. She saw it as a dark place.

After crossing the kitchen, she dressed in the mud room thinking only of al that must be done. Her life seemed to stretch before her now in endless days of routine with al hope of love gone. She knew she was stil young, but she also knew al the men in the area. Not one came close to measuring up to Michael. He’d been handsome and funny 199

and loving. He’d winked at her once and said she was the prettiest little thing walking God’s earth.

Sage smiled. That was the moment she fel in love, she decided. Now that she’d known him, no one else would ever measure up by half.

Where would she nd another man like Michael when part of her didn’t even want to look? She’d grow hard and cold like Teagen or start avoiding people like Tobin. The three of them would grow old together, meaner than rattlesnakes, just like the town folks already claimed. They’d work from dawn to dusk then sit around too tired to talk to one another at night. She’d mark the years in wrinkles and think of what might have been.

She slipped into the kitchen. By the low glow from the coals, she col ected supplies for the kid tied up in the barn. When Teagen brought the Roak home, he’d planned on taking him to the marshal the next day, but Teagen had been hurt and Tobin had to stand guard. Then Travis arrived with Michael’s body and the problem with Roak was forgotten. Sage understood al the reasons, but she didn’t like thinking of the boy stil tied up. It wasn’t right. The least she could do was feed him. Maybe Teagen would take him to the law after the funeral.

Closing her eyes tightly, she tried not to think of what would happen to him once he was delivered to the marshal. But an old memory drifted into her thoughts. She must have been about ten. Teagen was taking her to school, and because of snow, they’d stayed on the road for a change. Just as they got to town, Sage saw two men hanging from the big tree behind Elmo’s place. One hung straight, his head lowered to his chest, but the other’s head lay sideways as if al the bones had been snapped by the noose.

Teagen had sworn when he’d spotted them and tried to turn away, but Sage saw.

She’d cried al day at school even when Mrs. Dickerson told her the men had been tried and found guilty of stealing a horse. That afternoon, when Teagen picked her up, he rode back by the tree. The bodies were gone, but Sage never forgot the sight.

She cut off slices of bread now in the shadowy kitchen, trying not to think of Drummond Roak’s thin body swaying in the breeze beneath that old tree limb.

A door creaked somewhere in the house and Sage leaned to glance through the dining room to the main room.

In the shadows of the lamp she’d lit, she saw Liberty slip from the study. Just before she stepped free, a man’s arm circled her waist and pul ed her back into the room for a moment as if he couldn’t part with her so easily.

Sage heard Liberty’s laugh as she tugged away and ran up the stairs on bare feet.

Jerking back so that if anyone looked he wouldn’t see her spying, Sage hurried across the kitchen with her tray of food. As soon as she was out the back door, she mumbled to herself. “So much for Tobin fearing people. There seems to be one he doesn’t avoid.” Sage slipped off the porch. “Great. That leaves just me and Teagen to grow old and cranky together. He’s pretty wel got the job sewn up.”

She crossed the yard, stil thinking about Liberty and her brother and wondering what they had been doing until almost dawn. If she knew Tobin at al , it wouldn’t be talking.

Of course, she must not know him, because she would never have guessed that Liberty Mayeld would be a woman he’d be interested in knowing.

Sage set down the food she’d col ected and lit the barn lantern. She wanted to get the boy fed before everyone woke up and it was time for the funeral.

“Morning,” she murmured as she entered the stal .

He shifted and opened his eyes, having obviously been sound asleep beneath the blanket. “What time is it?”

Sage was glad to see that no one had gagged him again.

“Almost dawn. I thought you might be hungry.”

He studied her, then tossed his head to the side so his straight dark hair would stop obstructing his vision.

The hair fel back in place, half covering his eyes.

Sage reached to brush it aside for him.

He jerked back as if reacting to a blow.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” She frowned wondering how many times he must have been hit to react that way when anyone came close. “Be stil .”

He didn’t look like he believed her motives, but he didn’t move as her hand rose again.

This time she brushed her ngers in his hair and combed it back. “Let’s start again.

Good morning, Drum. Are you hungry?”