WM02 - Texas Princess (36 page)

Libby kissed his neck, loving the taste of him. “And the second night?”

Tobin leaned his head back and groaned. “Do we have to talk about this now?”

“No,” she said as she licked the rain away from his throat. “What would you like to talk about?”

“I don’t want to talk at al .” His hand slid beneath the lace of her camisole and caressed her tender breast.

When his thumb crossed over her nipple, she sighed. “Al right,” she managed to whisper before his mouth found hers.

He rol ed on top of her and pressed her into the soft bed of hay. She no longer felt the cold. Stretching, she let his body move over her cuddling her into him. He felt heavy and hard and oh so wonderful. The storm outside seem to drift away and there was only him and her in the world tonight.

When he nal y ended the kiss, he rol ed to his side and tugged at the ties of her undergarments until they fel away. Then he spread his hands over her, pushing his palms from her knees to her throat, feeling every inch of her.

She sighed again and began to move with his touch. He leaned, barely brushing her lips with his as his hand continued to burn across her esh. As her body warmed and responded, his kiss deepened until al thought but the pleasure he offered vanished and she reached for him.

He gently shoved her hand away and continued exploring her body, touching every part while his kiss teased her mouth offering pleasure, then pul ing away before she had her l of the taste of him.

She reached for him again and again he shoved her hand away. Final y, he held her hands with one of his so that she couldn’t touch him. He began to kiss his way down her body, taking his time rst at her throat where he tasted her neck and then kissed each spot. Slowly as if he were working his way through a banquet, he moved to her breasts.

Here, he paused, enjoying every soft inch of her, moaning when she shifted shoving her breast further into his mouth. The tenderness she’d felt at his rst touch vanished replaced by a need for his ful attention.

When he moved lower, sliding his tongue down between her breasts until he reached her bel y button, she arched her back, wanting to give him al he wanted, al he would take.

As he moved even lower, she cried out with need. “Please,” she begged.

He shifted, whispering against her mouth. “Please what? Tel me what you want.”

“Please love me,” she answered, struggling to free her hand. “Please love me.”

He let her go and leaned up. In the darkness she felt a longing for him even though she could stil hear his breathing. She waited, the need for him so strong she thought she’d die if he didn’t touch her soon.

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His ngers slid feather light along her sides, then gripped her legs and tugged them apart. Slowly, he moved into her, letting his body settle over hers. A perfect match.

She arched wanting more of him, wanting him to move faster.

The rough whiskers of his week-old beard brushed her cheek as he whispered her name so softly she couldn’t be sure she wasn’t reading his mind. Then, slowly at rst, he began to move, taking her with him on a journey to heaven.

She wrapped her arms around him and held to him as their bodies became one. Al the world drifted away and they oated among the stars riding wave after wave of gentle delight until he shoved deep inside her and the stars exploded into a thousand tiny points of pleasure that rained over her.

Closing her eyes, she let the sensations oat over her, then she drifted down stil holding tightly to him. She felt as if she’d been waiting for this, for him al her life so that she could nal y be complete. Even his breathing matched her own and though she was ful y satised, she stil reached to touch him.

When nal y he rol ed to his side, pul ing her with him, she noticed tears drifting across her cheeks.

His thumb wiped a few warm tears away and he whispered, “Are you al right, Libby? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No.” She couldn’t help but smile. “Sometimes the happiness that I feel just leaks out.”

He hugged her against him, pul ed the blanket over them both and kissed her head. “I know how you feel.”

“Good night,” she whispered as she wiggled against him.

“I’l wake you in an hour if you’re interested in a little more happiness.”

She laughed softly. “Al right.”

And he did.

chapter 28

Y

Tobin woke with the rst light and realized

he’d slept without dreaming for the rst time in years. Rain stil tapped on the roof of the barn, blocking out al other sounds.

Libby slept soundly in his arms. She looked so beautiful he had trouble believing that he wasn’t dreaming. He’d made love to her three times during the night. The second had been slow and sweet, the third time had been her idea. She’d advanced, wanting to touch him the way he’d touched her and he’d been defenseless to stop her.

Tobin smiled. This much lovemaking would probably kil him, but after years of celibacy he had some catching up to do. He moved his hand over her bare hip loving the ful ness of it, the softness of it, and the way her esh gave to his touch. She was a wonder he’d never get tired of exploring.

She didn’t wake, so he slipped his ngers slowly up until he cupped her breast letting the nipple press against his palm. He’d touched her al night; even when they were both asleep, their bodies caressed each other. Her mouth looked puffy, a little swol en from his hundred kisses. Her throat

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had red marks on it where his beard had scratched her. Her thigh bore a slight bruise from where he’d pul ed her to him wildly.

He wanted her again.

But he’d not wake her. They’d hardly slept at al and they had a long day ahead of them. If the rain kept up it might be wise to move on, but riding in the storm would be cold and she didn’t have a coat or shoes. If they went into the fort, they would be spotted. If they ran, they might have to sleep out in the weather tonight with no re or shelter.

He thought about how she didn’t complain. She’d go if he said it was time. He knew she would. But riding double they couldn’t move as fast. Once the rain stopped they’d be easy targets. If Captain Buchanan was smart, he probably had scouts out searching everywhere. The land would be muddy once the sun came out, and it would be almost impossible to travel without leaving sign.

Tobin leaned back and put his arm over his eyes, blocking out the sight of Libby’s beautiful body beside him so he could think. Maybe they should stay here another day.

Wait to see if the rain stopped. Wait to travel at night. He could probably go into the fort alone and blend in wel enough with the trappers and farmers to col ect food.

He drifted back to sleep to the sound of the rain.

It seemed only minutes when he felt Libby poking his side. “Tobin,” she whispered.

“Wake up. We’ve got company.”

The rain stil rattled and plopped from the roof, but Tobin heard the jingle of a rig beneath them. He tugged on his clothes and slid to the edge. Below him, halfway between the ladder and the door were an empty wagon and six mules. Tobin couldn’t believe he’d slept through their entrance.

He smel ed the mule skinner before he saw the man. A barrel-chested fel ow with layers of animal skins pieced together for a coat. The skinner hadn’t bothered to unhitch his rig before climbing in the wagon bed atop a crumpled tarp. With hair sticking out from al directions beneath his hat, it was impossible to guess his age, but there was no doubt the wagon driver had already drunk his limit for the night. He mumbled to himself as he downed the last of one bottle and looked for another.

Judging from the few words he used that were not obscenities, it appeared he’d unloaded his goods and been told that if he didn’t take a bath he couldn’t stay within the wal s of the fort. After he’d bought his whisky, he’d told them al to go to hel and they’d apparently shoved him out the door.

Tobin watched as the man downed half the second bottle before drifting off to sleep.

Once Tobin felt sure the skinner was out cold, he slipped down the ladder and checked the mules. They were strong and hardy but needed water and hay.

When he returned to the loft Libby, stil cuddled in the blanket, whispered, “What are you doing?”

“Feeding the stock,” he answered. “Get dressed.”

He grinned when she made a face at him but fol owed directions.

By the time she climbed down the ladder, the animals were ready and the drunk had been tied in the back of the wagon so he wouldn’t rol out in his sleep. Tobin loaded hay on both sides, making the wagon look ful . He then covered the hay, his saddle, and the drunk with a tarp and laced it to the sides of the wagon. “He’l sleep for hours,”

Tobin whispered as he lifted Libby to the seat. “By then we’l be miles away.”

“Do we have to bring him?”

“If we don’t, we’d be stealing his wagon and mules. This way, we’re just watching over him while he sleeps it off. Once he’s awake, I’l offer him money to take us further. If he doesn’t agree, we’l make it on one horse.”

Libby frowned as if she saw a few holes in his plan, but she didn’t say anything. He covered her with the blanket and then his oil slicker and drove the wagon out into the rain.

With the storm stil active it was impossible to tel the time of day. He’d guess midmorning, but the sky bubbled in turmoil. The mules balked at the pace even if the wagon was nearly empty.

“Libby,” he yel ed so she could hear over the storm. “Slip beneath the tarp until we get out of sight of the fort.”

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“But he’s back there.”

Tobin laughed. “Trust me, with the amount he’s had to drink, he won’t be moving for hours. Plus, I put the saddle between you and him.”

She held to his shoulder for balance and stepped over the seat. He felt the chil of her absence from his side immediately. Concentrating on keeping the mules moving, Tobin tried not to think of how much he’d miss her when she went back to her father. She’d needed him last night, she’d even begged him to make love to her, but she hadn’t said a word about loving him and neither had mentioned believing they might have a future.

Shaking his head, he tried to tel himself it didn’t matter. If she fel in love with him, she’d only end up with a broken heart. It was better this way. She’d never stay with him and he swore he’d never leave Whispering Mountain.

But he had, he thought. For once in his life he’d ridden across the hil s without looking back at the ranch. He’d left to nd her and she’d known he would. Even when she’d written for him not to fol ow, she’d known he’d come for her. When he had, she’d gone with him without asking a single question.

He could tel himself al they shared was a physical attraction. Two people who were wel mated for one another in a basic way. He could tel himself that al day and night, but deep down Tobin knew it was more. Only he’d never ask and she’d never offer.

What they had was enough. It had to be.

He waved at the guard in the corner tower as he rattled onto the main road. The guard waved back. In this rain it was impossible to see faces, and Tobin had forced himself to shove on the freighter’s hat.

The wet leather reins cut into his hands as Tobin control ed the team, but he’d forgotten his gloves in his haste to nd Libby a week ago. The cold rain kept the cuts numb.

The mules were poorly trained and the front two didn’t seem to have any idea how to lead. Tobin trained teams of horses to respond with a nudge or tug on the reins; these animals needed a whip to keep moving. He worked with them more from reex than any desire to train the team. By the time the rain had stopped and the fort had passed from sight, Tobin had managed to control the lead pair with just the sound of the whip.

He lifted the tarp to tel Libby that it was safe to climb back up in the seat, but she was curled up in a bal fast asleep. Tobin could hear the freighter snoring near the back of the wagon. Replacing the tarp so it covered Libby, he slowed the animals and decided to let her sleep a while. It was probably for the best anyway. If a scout saw the wagon with one driver, he’d ask fewer questions than if a woman rode on the seat.

It was almost dark when she woke up. Tobin stopped the wagon as soon as he heard her. While the team rested, Tobin broke into the drunk’s stash of food. He must have picked up bread and cheese, along with boiled eggs at the fort. Libby ate as if she were starving.

“We’re not stopping for the night,” Tobin said as he handed her the last egg. “The land is at for miles. We need to put as much distance between us and the fort as we can while the drunk sleeps. When he’s awake and probably angry, he’s likely to threaten to turn us in. I don’t want to make it easy on him to nd someone to tel .”

“What about the mules?” Libby asked.

“They’re used to it and the wagon isn’t loaded down. I’l let them rest an hour, then we’l travel another four or ve hours before we stop.”

She agreed. “The rst thing I plan to do when I get back is commandeer the mud room and take a two-hour bath.”

“I might join you.” He laughed. “But we’l have to tie up Martha rst. I’m afraid she wouldn’t consider it proper.”

Libby laughed. “What could she do?”

“She’d tel Mrs. Dickerson on us.” Then he told her al about the old schoolteacher’s stopping the mob from town.

Libby had never heard him say so many words at once. She couldn’t stop smiling.

When they climbed back on the wagon, he slipped his arm behind her almost shyly.

After the night they’d spent together,

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she’d thought he’d be more comfortable with her. Then she realized how new al this must be to him.

Cuddling into his side, she talked of her life in Washington, wanting him to know al about her. Slowly, with description and brutal honesty, she introduced him to al her friends... people he’d never meet for real. The Martin sisters with cheeks as round as green apples and a mother who told everyone within three sentences of meeting that both girls were single. The Hoppers who never walked anywhere for fear someone would think they were strapped for money. Old man Davis who’d been her father’s friend for fty years and stil couldn’t remember her name when he came to dinner. She talked tel ing of al the others, wishing he could meet them.