Before the Dawn (15 page)

A nervous Leah hadn't expected to find him there. Watching his eyes taking her in so slowly let her know he approved
of her attire and filled her with an odd mixture of uncertainty and womanly power. “I didn't know you'd returned.”

“Got back only moments ago. You look very beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

“Sam's out hitching up the team.”

“Is he leaving?”

“Yes, he's going courting.”

Leah couldn't hide her surprise. “Courting?”

He nodded. “If I'm not mistaken, it's Mable France tonight.”

Leah's eyes widened even further. “Mable France? The woman who works for Helene Sejours?”

“Yep. With his pension and all, the old pony soldier's quite a catch. Widows have been trying to put a saddle on him for years.”

“But—Mable France? I didn't even know she could smile.”

“Little to smile about working for Helene.”

Leah supposed he was right.

He drank down the last of his lemonade, then set the empty glass in the metal dishpan. “Away from Helene, Mable's quite nice.”

Leah still found it a bit hard to believe, but knew that if anybody could bring out a person's warmer side, Sam could.

Sam entered as if cued, dressed in his dark suit, starched shirt, and string tie. His gray hair was brushed and combed, and Leah smelled just the faintest scent of cologne.

“How do I look, Miss Leah?”

“Very handsome, Sam.”

“You're looking mighty good yourself, if I might add.”

“Yes, she is,” Ryder seconded, his eyes glowing over the picture she made.

Leah turned away to hide her responding smile.

Sam said, “Well, I gotta get going. Mable won't like me
being late.” He looked between the two of them. “I was going to ask if you two were going to be all right, but that's a dumb question. Don't wait up.”

Ryder had eyes only for Leah. “We won't.”

Sam's departure left them alone.

Just looking at Ryder made Leah remember this morning's kisses and her own vibrant response to them. She assumed tonight would be much the same, only more. Lord knew she wanted to brazen this out, but didn't think herself able. The memories of being in his arms were more than enough to set her blood racing. But second thoughts arose about what she guessed would come
after
the meal. She wondered what would happen if she told him she'd changed her mind.
Prison would happen,
the little voice in her mind responded.
Prison.

Ryder thought he saw worry cross her face, but it was gone so swiftly he wondered if he'd imagined it. What could she be concerned about? “Something bothering you?”

“No,” she lied. Hoping to change the subject, she asked, “I thought you weren't going to be back until much later.”

He shrugged. “Did what I had to do and canceled the rest. Had a more…pressing engagement.”

Leah knew he was talking about their dinner. “I wouldn't have minded waiting,” she answered truthfully, softly.

“But I would have…”

His words seemed to charge the air in the kitchen and Leah as well. Her lips parted, and the now familiar drumming began to echo faintly between her thighs. She turned her back lest he see how much she' d been affected.

When she heard him cross the floor and come up behind her, her eyes closed in response to her sharp reactions. The light touch of his finger slowly mapping first one bare shoulder and then the other made her softly suck in a breath. She held on to it as the finger traced up and then
down her trembling neck. He placed a kiss there. She quietly ignited. He flicked his tongue over the dark crown of her left shoulder. She dissolved. He repeated the tribute on the right shoulder. She moaned softly. He reached around and gently turned her face to his, then kissed her so exquisitely she lost all sense of time and place. When their lips parted she couldn't have told him her name.

He whispered. “I'm going to wash up. Will you meet me on the porch in, say, twenty minutes?”

Since she couldn't speak, she nodded.

He smiled and left her alone.

When he joined Leah on the porch, she was standing at the windows with her back to him. She turned at his entrance. Sensual shivers of anticipation traveled over her, and her first instinct was to flash back around in order to escape what she saw in his eyes, but she didn't. Instead she let herself be touched and stroked by his gaze, let him get his fill. As she'd admitted to herself earlier, it was too late to retreat now.

“I hope I wasn't too long,” Ryder told her quietly. He wanted to caress her with more than his eyes. His hands itched because he knew that her skin was as silken as it appeared.

“No,” she answered, wondering if her breathing would ever return to a normal rhythm.

“Are you ready to eat?”

Dusk was falling, and the shadows in the dining room added to the mood. “Yes.”

He gestured her to the table, helping Leah with her chair, and just like last night, the heat of his nearness surrounded her senses. There was a current in the air, a current that made her vividly remember him saying:
Then I'd take you up into the mountains and make love to you until the seasons changed.

Standing behind her, Ryder had to force himself to back
away. The urge to whisper his lips across the bare back of her shoulders roared as strong as it had last night. Once again, he wanted to make her the first course, second course, and dessert. Instead he said, “Sam left dinner for us. I'll get it.”

Leah waited. She brought her hands to her cheeks in an effort to calm herself. Her palms were damp, her heart racing.

He returned a short time later pushing a tray laden with covered serving dishes. Silver and china had been set out on the table by Sam earlier. Leah realized that even though last night's dinner had been intimate, this time it would be even more so.

He took his seat across from her, and in order to keep herself from being singed by his dark gaze, Leah unfolded her napkin and placed it in her lap.

“You seem nervous,” he said as he poured himself a glass of wine.

She didn't lie. “I am a bit.”

“Then we'll go slowly so you can relax.”

Leah doubted her ability to relax; inwardly she was as nervous as an overboard sailor floundering in shark-infested seas.

“Do you want wine?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you. I'm not much of a spirits drinker.” Leah had never acquired a taste for alcohol.

He set the bottle back on the table, then raised his glass to her in toast. “To beauty…”

The floundering Leah turned away. Maybe if she'd had a beau at some point in her life she'd know how to handle this, but she hadn't; men rarely wanted to bring the bastard daughter of a tavern owner home to meet their mama. When she looked up again his eyes were waiting.

“Your turn to say grace,” he told her.

Under the influence of his distracting presence she didn't
think she could come up with a verse, but somehow managed to do so.
“Ye are blessed of the Lord which made heaven and earth.”
She raised her gaze to his. “How was that?”

“Just fine.”

His voice, quiet as the room, swept over Leah like a faint caress. Her eyes strayed to his mouth. She found herself wanting to feel his lips against her own in spite of where it might lead.

“When a woman stares at a man's mouth that way, it makes him want to stare back…”

The heat of embarrassment rushed across her cheeks. “My apologies.”

“None needed. It shows you're still interested.”

Even more heat filled her face. “I thought you were going to be on your best behavior?”

“I am.”

It was like flirting with a tiger. In a minute or two she knew he planned to eat her up, but she was so fascinated by his tempting presence she didn't care.

“Pass me your plate. The sooner we eat, the sooner we can enjoy each other.”

The desire in his eyes rocked her with such sweet force, she swayed in her chair for a fraction of a second and her hand went to the locket above her breasts. Who knew there were men like this in the world? She certainly hadn't.

He set her plate beside his and removed the tops from the evening's offerings. There were tiny boiled potatoes, string beans, slices of ham dripping with maple syrup, warm yeast rolls oozing butter and short, glass bowls of sweet, spiced peaches.

“What would you like?” Ryder asked, knowing his own answer to the question had nothing to do with food.

“A bit of everything, I think.”

He nodded and placed the food on her plate. When he was done he handed it back, then filled his own.

Ryder watched her eat a bit of the vegetables and ham, but when she forked up a portion of the spiced peaches to sample, he found himself wanting to taste the spicy sweetness on her lips. He shifted slightly in his chair to accommodate his hardening desire. “Are the peaches good?”

“Very good,” she replied, unconsciously sliding the tip of her tongue over her lip.

The innocent but provocative gesture made Ryder think he might explode. He inhaled a deep breath and forced himself to concentrate on his potatoes. It was hard, though, because so was he. “Sam said you met Miss Eloise today.”

Leah nodded. “I did. She wants to paint me.”

“That's quite an honor. She doesn't do that for everyone.”

Leah thought back on the visit and remembered Miss Eloise telling her to ask Ryder about the tribes. Leah didn't think now to be the right time, but she did have a question. “Do you consider yourself a man of the race, or an Indian?”

He glanced at her. “I was raised Cheyenne, but I've always considered myself both. Each part has strength and honor. I wouldn't disrespect my ancestors by favoring one over the other.”

That made sense to Leah. “Did the Cheyenne once own this land?”

“No, this all belonged to the Arapaho. We lived on the plains near the Colorado-Kansas border.”

The Arapaho were not a tribe Leah was familiar with. Back East the papers seemed to concentrate on the more well known tribes like the Cheyenne and the Sioux. She hoped to learn more about the nation's native peoples during her time here with him.

After they finished the main course, he left the table and threw a few more logs on the fire in the big stone grate. Its flaming light shimmered around the darkening room. When
he removed his suit coat and placed it over the back of the small, black-velvet love seat in front of the fire, and then undid the top buttons on his shirt, a thousand butterflies took wing in Leah's stomach.

He looked her way, and said, “Think I'll have my peaches over here by the fire. Join me?”

Leah didn't know if her shaking legs would support her but she stood, picked up his bowl of peaches and what remained in her own, and carried them both over to the fire. He took his bowl and fork from her hand.

“Thanks.”

A very nervous Leah sat down with her own bowl of dessert. He sat beside her, his long legs stretched out comfortably in front of the flames. She felt as shy as the virgin she knew herself to be and found it hard to meet his gaze. To give her something else to concentrate on beside the warmth of his nearness, she dipped her little finger into the juice in her bowl and tasted it.

Watching her, Ryder had to take in another deep breath. Did she know her effect on a man? he wondered. He assumed she did. Being around her would keep a man in a perpetual state of arousal.

“You seem to be enjoying those peaches.”

“I am,” she admitted as she used her fork to polish off the last two pieces of fruit in her bowl. “I don't think I've ever had any this good. Did Sam put these up, or did he buy them from someone?”

Ryder shook his head. “No. He does them himself. He usually does enough to last all winter. I think he said this was the last jar.”

Her disappointment showed plainly on her face.

He chuckled. “I promise there will be more later in the year. Do you want some of these? I can share.”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

Leah did want another bite or two—she'd had a sweet tooth for as long as she could remember—but she didn't want him to think her a pig. “No. You go ahead.”

He peered around to look into her eyes. “You don't have to act like a perfect lady with me. If you want some, say so.”

She lowered her head to hide her embarrassed smile. “I would like another bite.”

He forked up a piece of fruit. “Here.”

She reached for the fork, but he drew it back. Confused, she paused.

“Open your mouth…” he said quietly.

She had no trouble reading the desire in his eyes. Another series of tremors rippled through her softly. Angling closer, she drew the fruit from the fork, savoring the taste of the peaches and his heated stare as she slowly chewed and swallowed. When she was ready, he silently fed her another piece. She swallowed and trembled all in one motion. Eyes glowing, he slowly lifted out the last sliced peach, but this time, instead of feeding it to her he teased the juicy edge back and forth across her lips until they parted. He then leaned in and kissed her hungrily, thoroughly, treating himself to the sweetness left there by the spicy juice. When the kiss ended, Leah came back to herself dazed, her head resting on the sofa back.

He then dipped his finger back into the juice and drew a line across the tops of her breast. Leah's eyes closed, and her nostrils flared. She gasped as his lips began to trace the sweet trail his finger created. His lips were hot, her skin trembled, and she moaned in rising response. He raised his head and looked into her eyes. He put more juice on his finger and again mapped her lips. When her lips parted he helped himself to her flavored mouth, a dessert far more tantalizing than any other before.

“I know we made a bargain, but we're lovers tonight…nothing more…”