Bittner, Rosanne (30 page)

He
wrapped a hand into her hair, causing some of the hairpins to fall out.
"Letting go of your feelings is always right. And I've got more feelings
for you than you could know. Away from you I'm a worthless, mean bastard who
doesn't give a damn about anything. But you—you make me... feel so deeply it
hurts down deep in my guts, Tess Hawkins."

She
half smiled through tears at the remark. Only John Hawkins would use such a
crude expression to say something so beautiful. She clung to his shirt. "I
can't... honestly say that I love you, John. But I... I admire you more than
you know. I respect what you're doing. And I... Sometimes you make me... feel
things I never felt before. I'm just so... confused... and scared about the
future. Mostly I'm afraid to care. I've always lost every person I ever cared
about, and always in a violent way. And you... you lead such a violent
life."

He
buried his face in her hair. "You won't lose me. Ken says I'm too mean to
die."

"I
think he's probably right."

He
held her for several more minutes, enjoying the feel of her body against his
own. Suddenly unsure, he was afraid if he made one wrong move she would be
terrorized, hate him again, accuse him of going back on his promise. She turned
her tearstained face up to meet his gaze. What was that he saw in those big,
blue eyes? He leaned closer, and she did not pull away. He met her lips,
gently, so gently, being so careful to keep from sending her running. To his
near shock, she was returning the kiss. He crushed her against himself, kissing
her more deeply.

Tess
had no idea why she wanted this kiss, why she had allowed it. She reasoned it
was more out of curiosity than anything else, and she had no idea what was
happening to her then as some kind of powerful emotional need shot through her
with such force she could not control it. She cried more when he left her
mouth, and through her tears the words spilled out.

"Make
love to me, John Hawkins," she said as she wept.

This
was not supposed to be. Tess felt she was on a wild spiral, falling down and
down into a new phase of life she never would have thought possible two months
ago. Lost in a swirl of deep, warm kisses, she was being carried to the bed.

Why
was she doing this? Why could she not stop John

Hawkins?
More to the point, why didn't she
want
to stop him?

John
was right. He was not Chino. He was all gentleness, in spite of his power and
size, yet there was a sure, demanding way about his lovemaking. He was
completely in control without being abusive, commanding her every move while at
the same time she wanted him to take command; and there was a sincerity about
his kisses, his touches, that told her he honestly loved her.

She
was aware that her clothes were coming off, and she knew he was right about
something else. Abel Carey had not known the first thing about how to please a
woman.

John's
hands moved over her in magical ways, while she was so smothered in kisses there
was no chance to talk, to protest... and why should she? She was the one who
had asked him to do this. Even if she changed her mind now, she had no right to
stop him. She had invited him to explore her soul, and that was just what he
was doing. She reminded herself this man was her legal husband. There was
nothing wrong in allowing him this one thing he so wanted.

She
heard the thump of his gunbelt being thrown to the floor, felt almost numb as
he pulled her dress, slips, and drawers down and off her all in one movement.

"My
shoes..." she heard herself say.

"Don't
worry about it." The words were spoken softly, close to her ear. He was
kissing her neck, her throat, unlacing her camisole. He kissed lightly at the
swell of her breasts, moved back to her throat. Tess heard a soft groan from
deep in his throat as he met her mouth in another commanding kiss. His tongue
moved between her lips, and a strong hand grasped her bottom, plying her flesh.
He moved to her side, and his hand came around to explore her private places.
He touched a magical spot in a way that surprised her with how it brought out a
wanton desire she'd never felt before. Abel had never done something like this
to her. She was overtaken by an odd mixture of bold eroticism and pure shame,
yet even the shame was pleasurable. As he teased her with his fingers,
something happened that took her by surprise, and she found herself pressing
against him, whispering his name. Something warm and wonderful had overtaken
her senses. Now it was she who was kissing him aggressively, grasping at his
shirt, wanting him as she had never wanted a man.

He
moved between her legs, not even taking the time to undress. The back of his
hand touched her private places as he unbuttoned his denim pants and underwear.
She sensed his own urgency. If this was to be done, it had to be done quickly
before she even realized it was happening. She agreed. She wanted this night to
be the way it should be for a new husband, needed to know what real lovemaking
was. It was not the fumbling, quick penetration she'd known with Abel, nor was
it the vicious, brutal ramming Chino had given her. Lovemaking was not supposed
to involve pain and terror, nor should it be something almost void of emotion.

She
felt it then, the deep surge inside of her. John Hawkins was a big man, and
that apparently included this most private part of him. At first she
experienced only deep pleasure, for whatever he had done with his fingers, it
had brought forth an exploding need to have a man inside her. But when she
opened her eyes...

Chino!
There he was, with his dark skin, his long, black hair. For a moment she could
even see those eyes, those ugly eyes! She gasped, pushed at him. Someone
grabbed her wrists. The gentle, rhythmic penetration continued, along with
kisses to her eyes.

"It's
me, Tess, John Hawkins, and I love you. Do you hear me? I love you. You're my
wife."

"Please...
don't—"

"Tess!"
The name was spoken more firmly. "Look at me. Open your eyes and look at
me."

He
held both her wrists above her head with the grip of only one strong hand,
while his other hand moved to her bottom, gently pressing upward to support her
as he continued his deep thrusts. Tess did as he asked, meeting his dark eyes.
They were not Chino's eyes. They were so handsome, deep set, full of love. That
whole face was utter perfection. Tears came to her eyes as she realized she
really could love this man.

"Please...
let go of my wrists," she asked. "I don't like it."

He
let go, moved his hand to her hair, leaned down and kissed her forehead as his
thrusts grew deeper, more rapid. Tess felt his life surging into her then, and
he groaned with the pleasure of his release. He seemed tense for a moment, then
relaxed against her, moving slightly to the side as he pulled away from her. They
lay there quietly for a moment, and he kept his arms around her, kissed her
hair. It was only then Tess realized he still had his shirt on, everything
except the gun belt. All he had done was unbutton his pants. Even she was not
fully undressed. She still had on her camisole, although it was unlaced,
exposing her breasts; and she still wore her shoes and stockings! She turned
away from him, pulling a flannel sheet over herself and putting her hands over
her face.

"My
God," she groaned. "I've just made love... with a man who is...
hardly more than a stranger." Never had she experienced anything quite
like this, nor did she expect it would even happen. Yes, she truly had lost her
mind. "What must you think of me now?"

John
frowned. "What
should
I think of you, except that you're a
beautiful woman who has finally realized what being with a man is supposed to
be about. I've just made love to my wife. I'm not a stranger, Tess. I'm your
husband."

She
felt him shifting on the bed as he adjusted his pants. "I... I shouldn't
have... asked you to... I don't know what got into me."

He
leaned over her, pulling her hands away from her face. "You listen to me,
Tess Hawkins. For once in your life you were a woman, and you gave me the
chance to take away some of the ugliness of Chino's attack. That's what I
wanted to do. As far as I am concerned, Chino never existed. He never touched
you, and he never fathered a child by you. The baby in your belly is
mine!
You
are now my wife in every way, and no other man will ever touch you again but
me!"

She
studied his eyes. "I... don't know what to say... how to feel."

"Just
be honest and tell me how you feel right now, this minute."

Her
eyes teared. "I think I...
could
love you, John Hawkins."

He
smiled. "Well, that's a start. And we
are
married, so why should
there be anything wrong with what we just did?"

"I
don't know. I... I need time, John." She pulled away from him again.
"We've consummated our marriage. It's done now, right or wrong. I need to
think about all of this."

"Meaning
this is the end of our lovemaking?"

"I'm
sorry. It has to be... for now." She felt him get up from the bed. Why
couldn't she admit she wanted him to hold her again? Kiss her again? Make love
to her again? Why couldn't she get rid of this stubborn pride? He was right to
say there was nothing bad or wrong in what they had just done, but she could
not quite believe it. She had just allowed this man, who only a few weeks ago
was a stranger, a wild Texas Ranger come to help her... she had just let him do
the most intimate thing a man could do to a woman... and she had
invited
him
to do it, like some kind of harlot!

She
heard him walking around, opened her eyes to see him strapping on his gun
again. "Where are you going?"

"To
the bathhouse. We both need to wash, and you'll feel embarrassed doing it here
in the room together. I'll be back in a while. You go ahead and try to sleep.
I'll make do on the floor. I've slept in worse places."

She
rolled onto her back, pulling the flannel sheet up to her neck. "You may
sleep in the bed."

He
buttoned his shirt a little higher. "I
may?"
He
shook
his head, a bit of anger coming back into his eyes. "Yes, I suppose I
may
do anything I want. But you aren't ready for that, in spite of what's just
happened. You still aren't ready to be a full woman." He pulled on a
leather vest, rummaged through his gear and pulled out a pair of clean
underwear, rolling it into a towel. "I haven't even begun to show you all
the pleasures you deserve, Tess. The next time we do this, you won't turn away from
me afterward. In the meantime, I can at least be glad that you think you
could
love me." He put on his hat. "I'll be up and out of your way
tomorrow, and you'll have plenty of time to think about all of this. I'll give
you full access to my money. You build that little house, start your business,
whatever makes you happy and keeps you busy while I'm gone."

He
turned and went out the door.
John, wait!
Why couldn't she open her
mouth to say the words? Wearily she got up, looked down at herself, thinking how
ridiculous she must look in shoes and socks and an unlaced camisole. What kind
of spell had John Hawkins cast on her to make her do what she had just done?
She walked to a bowl and pitcher that sat on a stand with a bar of soap and
some towels. She washed herself and pulled on clean drawers, removed her
camisole and put on a light flannel nightgown, then sat down and removed her
shoes and socks.

She
stared at the rumpled bed. A man who was her husband had just laid claim to her
in that bed. Maybe it was someone else. Maybe she had just dreamed all of it...
but she had not dreamed the aching desire or the almost painful pleasure she
had felt beneath John Hawkins's body. She could not deny the fact that he had
made her experience her womanhood in ways she'd never known before.

She
brushed the bed and straightened the covers, then lay back down, rubbing her
stomach.
As far as I am concerned, Chino never existed. He never touched you
and he never fathered a child by you. The baby in your belly is mine!
How
strange that such beautiful words could be spoken by a man like John. Who would
ever have thought he would care about such a thing? She stared at the ceiling,
wondering how he thought she could possibly sleep now. She could only wait,
wait for him to return, try to get through the night.

She
sat back up and read through the paper. She had not given him the reading
lesson they had talked about. This whole day was as unreal as a wild dream. She
looked at the plain gold band on her finger that he'd thought to buy for her.
She considered everything John Hawkins had said and done so far, and all of it
pointed to a man who was truly in love. And the way he had made her feel—sparks
of true desire, a willingness to surrender—the magical ways he had touched her,
drawing out something no one else had ever created in her soul... did that mean
she loved him after all?

She
heard a tap at the door, heard the turn of a key. She set the paper aside and
climbed back under the blankets. John walked inside, turned, and locked the
door again. He glanced at her. "Still awake?"