Brighter than Gold (Western Rebels Book 1) (33 page)

Startled, Katie found that they’d turned the corner of Sixth Street and were approaching a handsome brick church. A well-dressed young man and woman were standing on the steps, waving.

“Hello, Jack,” the woman called. “I’m so excited! Do hurry and introduce us to your beautiful bride!”

* * *

The next few hours passed in a blur of unreality for Katie. Reverend Benton, a dynamic Congregational minister who had already made his mark in Sacramento, performed the wedding ceremony in a church that was empty except for the bride, groom, and Stephen and Amanda Knauer, who acted as witnesses. Reverend Benton had agreed to marry them as a favor to Jack, who apparently was a long-standing friend. The Knauers seemed overjoyed that Jack was finally taking a wife, and it soon became clear to Katie that they believed he had been overcome by true love. Amanda found the sheer romance of it all quite thrilling.

During the ceremony, Jack was irresistibly charming. He had even arranged for a small bouquet of white roses to be delivered for the bride. Everyone exuded pleasure, so Katie tried her best to act her part, too. She smiled into Jack’s eyes as she recited her vows, promising to love, honor, and cherish Jonathan Wyatt, although the name meant nothing to her and the man himself was little more than a stranger. As if sensing her numbness, Jack elicited a shock of passion from her by kissing her intimately after they were pronounced man and wife.

The Knauers took the Wyatts in their carriage to their large brick home on Third and N streets, and there the newlyweds were treated to a delicious candlelight supper of pea soup, pheasant, apples and rice, carrot pudding, and Damson plum tart. Katie ate and chatted dutifully, though she couldn’t taste the food and the champagne went to her head. She wished that she had followed Jack’s example and declined it. When Amanda Knauer remarked worriedly that Katie appeared to be a bit pale, Jack replied that she was merely tired from the long journey and the excitement of the day. Fondly he patted her hand, and Katie nodded and smiled agreement. She felt as if she had been dropped into a play set on an unfamiliar stage with actors who were all playing their roles to perfection—and demanded the same of her. Even Jack seemed transformed; sophisticated and at ease among Sacramento’s most elite citizens, he bore little resemblance to the man she had known in Columbia. His voice seemed more cultured, his laughter softer, his conversation more careful and intelligent. His movements were more controlled, less infused with masculine energy. In short, Jonathan Wyatt was a gentlemen.

It was past nine o’clock when the Knauers’ carriage deposited them at the Orleans Hotel. Katie had never felt more drained, and desired only to climb into bed, pull the covers over her head, and sleep endlessly. She moved up the stairs in a fog, barely aware of Jack walking next to her until he unlocked the door to their suite and lightly touched the small of her back to signal her to enter. Even through her gown and corset, the brush of his fingers sent fire streaking over her nerves. Involuntarily her eyes were drawn to the wide gold band on her left hand as she remembered that the wedding night still loomed before them. Her heart began to pound so loudly, she was certain he must hear it.

Inside, Jack went immediately into the bedroom and lit the lamp next to the magnificently carved Gothic revival bed. Katie hovered in the doorway, watching as he stripped off his coat and sat down on the forest-green velvet bedspread. She liked to watch Jack move: he was graceful and masculine all at once, the muscles in his arms and shoulders flexing against the fine linen of his shirt as he bent to remove his shoes. Soft lamplight burnished his hair, and when he looked up at her, Katie was struck by the sober male beauty of his face.

“How are you feeling, Mrs. Wyatt?” he asked softly.

“Fine, I think.” She tried to smile. “A little tired.” She prayed that he would suggest she get a good night’s sleep.

He stood up and held out his hands to her. “Why don’t you let me help you relax?”

Katie went to him with trepidation. Her cheeks were warm, but her hands were cold as she put them in Jack’s. “It’s hard to believe that we’re really married.”

“But it’s true. You are my wife now, Kathleen.”

The tone of his voice told her that he fully intended to exercise his rights as her husband. She had come to believe that the physical attraction between them was too vital to extinguish, but now she felt as shy as if Jack were touching her for the first time. In the past, she had given herself over to the loss of control, to the flame that caught and spread in spite of its forbidden nature. It had seemed to Katie that they were both powerless... then. Was that passion lost now? Everything seemed different, including Jack himself. It was as if they were strangers who had met on their wedding day.

Slowly Jack turned her around and began to unfasten the back of her gown. She felt freezing cold; it was all she could do to keep from shivering. After sliding the sleeves down her arms to free the top half of her body, Jack put his hands on her shoulders and kneaded gently, soothingly. Something seemed to break inside of Katie. She nearly sagged against him and whimpered with pleasure. His fingers found every source of hidden tension, probing expertly until she sighed with gratitude. When the touching ceased she held her breath, eyes closed. Time seemed suspended... and then warm, firm lips pressed the nape of her neck, burning, sending shivers down her spine. Suddenly Katie was anticipating the next step, when he would pull her into his arms and kiss her in earnest.

“Relax, Kathleen,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear. “And wait.”

His tone was seductive, and she was startled to feel a hot twinge between her legs. Jack removed her gown and unwieldy crinoline, leaving Katie standing in stockings, lace-trimmed drawers, chemise, and corset. He surveyed her, and the patient, predatory gleam in his eyes made her blush. Her heart beat not with fear, but with expectation. From beneath her lashes, Katie watched as he removed his waistcoat and unbuttoned his snow-white shirt to give her a glimpse of the tanned, lean-muscled chest behind it. The memory of his scent and warmth heightened her desire.

With excruciating slowness, Jack unlaced Katie’s corset, tossed it aside, then slid down her gauzy drawers so that she could step out of them. Then he stood back and gazed at her for a moment. Her legs were slim and sleek in the creamy stockings, and the simple cotton-and-lace chemise nipped in at her waist and clung to the curves of her full breasts. Jack’s blood pounded. Reaching around, he removed the pins from her hair so that it spilled in soft, fragrant waves to her hips.

“My God, but you are beautiful,” he murmured. Try as he might to distance himself from her emotionally, the physical passion Katie elicited from him always caught him off guard. There was something about her—that mixture of intelligence, naiveté, gloriously innocent beauty, and lush, untutored sexuality—that aroused him in a way that no other woman ever had.

Katie could feel Jack’s heat as he stood before her and ran his fingers lightly up her arms, caressing her throat and shoulders, then down over the sides of her chemise. His eyes held hers as he paused for a moment before grazing her breasts with his fingertips. Instantly Katie’s breathing changed. The tingling ache in her breasts was almost unbearable. Her nipples tautened against the thin cotton of the chemise, and she felt an ache begin to build deep inside her, a throbbing that left her moist with desire. Still gazing into Katie’s eyes, Jack reached for her trembling hand and placed it over the ridge outlined against his trousers. Her blush deepened even as she curved her fingers around him.

“I want you, my beautiful wife,” he said huskily.

Katie nodded. “I want you, too,” she managed to whisper.

He flicked open the tiny buttons of her chemise, his eyes devouring her body as it slipped to the ground. Proud and shy, she stood before him, naked except for the pale stockings. Jack moved closer and traced the curve of her waist and hips with wondering hands, then cupped her buttocks and drew her against him. Involuntarily, she arched against the hardness of his manhood. Her nipples, pink and soft as rosebuds, pressed the crisp hair on his chest. His shirt had disappeared, and now Katie fumbled boldly with the buttons on his trousers. When he was naked she longed to touch him, but the sight of his erection and the male strength of his body made her shy. Smiling, Jack drew back the bedclothes, scooped Katie up, and deposited her on the soft sheets.

Katie stretched like a cat, luxuriating in her own sensuousness. As the lamplight spread its amber glow over the tantalizing curves of her body, she looked up to see Jack poised above her like a bronzed god. There was nothing similar about their bodies except for a common beauty.

Jack knelt between her legs and slowly lifted one so that the ankle rested on his broad shoulder. With exquisite deliberation, he rolled the stocking down Katie’s leg, his fingers trailing fire. When her foot was bare, he kissed her instep, the slim curve of her ankle, and then each toe until she nearly cried out from the rush of intense sensations.

Through the mist of her arousal, Katie marveled dreamily at the sight of Jack’s torso as he knelt before her: the muscled definition of his chest, the ridges of his flat belly and narrowness of his hips, the line of dark hair that led downward to the proud essence of his masculinity. She loved the strong, leonine curve of his head and neck as he bent toward her. The painstaking care he took to bring her to new heights of pleasure made her feel precious and more feminine than she had ever imagined possible.

By the time Jack had removed Katie’s other stocking and paid homage to her left foot, she thought she would go mad with longing. Every nerve ached for him, and now, as he came to her, she held up her arms in welcome. The sensation of his hard, warm body pressing against the length of her own made her gasp. She drank in the feel of his back, she sought his mouth, she rubbed against his chest, and she yearned for release from the feverish pressure in her loins.

Jack was hungry, too. Katie’s mouth was ambrosia, and he drank his fill before tasting her neck, shoulders, and, finally, her breasts. They were swollen with desire, the rosy nipples eager for his lips. Katie strained against him as he leisurely kissed and circled his tongue around each one, molding a breast with one hand while his other strayed lower, caressing the satiny surface of her belly until he found the moist, hot place between her legs. His fingers surprised her. His evocative probing, combined with the sensation of his mouth at her breast, made her pant. She writhed helplessly as Jack’s skilled touch brought her higher and higher until, at last, she seemed to burst under a tidal wave of acute ecstasy. For a moment she felt paralyzed, as if she’d been cast up on a beach after a storm. Blissful sensations continued to radiate from her loins, but she ached for something more.

Jack moved upward to kiss her again, his tongue working its magic with ease. Then Katie’s hands sought and found his pulsing member, which suddenly seemed to grow even larger as he groaned with pleasure. When he moved inside her hands, her hips joined in the rhythm, and then, when the ache had reached the point of pain, Katie guided him home. His first thrust gave them both a jolt, and Jack paused for a moment, reveling in the sensation. They mated then in earnest, their damp bodies straining together, the world and all its cares forgotten. Through it all, they kissed and touched, as if they couldn’t get close enough. Katie spiraled higher and higher, crying out when she climaxed again, arching against him with all her might. Jack’s own release came soon after in a burning series of contractions that left him spent and dazed. Slowly he lowered himself next to Katie and, gazing deeply into her eyes, reached out to caress her cheek with reverent fingers. He’d almost forgotten what it was like with Katie....

“Meoww!”

Poppy sprang blindly into the air, hooked her claws into the velvet bedspread, and hoisted herself to safety near their feet. Katie managed a soft giggle as she lay cradled in against Jack’s chest, trying to get her breath back. The kitten scrambled toward them. Her mistress reached out to pet her and Poppy purred and writhed with pleasure.

“Are you all right?” Jack inquired.

“Yes....” Was it simply weariness that she detected in his tone? “How do you feel?”

He stroked the damp curls back from Katie’s brow and sighed. “Well, I don’t think there’s any doubt that this marriage has been consummated,” he said dryly. “There’s no turning back now....”

Chapter 23

November 1-2, 1864

“Sacramento is said to be another wonder of the world,” Amanda Knauer announced proudly, “for it has risen as rapidly, and been burned down as many times, as San Francisco. We have floods to contend with, too. And yet Sacramento thrives, even though the prosperity brought by gold is past. Other towns have died in the last few years, but we will continue to grow because we were wise enough not to rely on the gold for our security.”