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Authors: Maverickand the Lady

Heather Graham (13 page)

BOOK: Heather Graham
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“And to think that not two weeks ago I was on the verge of ruin!” she said, leaning back against his jacket, tired and contented yet keyed up with a delightful energy.

“Feast or famine,” Kane said dryly. “Well, I think you’ve about cleaned this lady out. I also think we should have a room by now!”

They had a room all right. Martine decided she knew what had taken so long. It was a beautifully and elaborately appointed suite with roses everywhere, baskets of cheeses and fruits, and ice buckets holding the same champagne they had enjoyed in the dining room.

Still the most breath-catching appeal of the room was the glass doors, open to the night and a cool breeze, that looked out across a wrought-iron balcony to the myriad lights all around them. It was a kaleidoscope of color, but the room was also situated for privacy, so that one could see out yet not be seen.

Martine was drawn to the open doors. She heard Kane tip the bellboy with a friendly comment, and then the door closed. She smiled, closing her eyes. She could, concentrating on the effort, hear his smooth footsteps until she felt his hands on her shoulders, pulling her against him.

She spun around and rubbed her cheek against his jacket, then slipped her fingers around his neck and looked into his eyes.

“I think you must be a cattle rustler,” she told him.

He gave her his elusive grin, winding his arms around her and smoothing his palms over the small of her back, pulling her hard against him.

“There’s only one thing about me that should concern you at this moment,” he answered.

“Oh?”

“Yes. The fact that I am your newly wed husband and that you’re just dying to get your hands on me.”

She laughed, feeling the effects of the champagne ever more strongly in his arms. His fingers moved along her spine, finding the zipper to her gown and lowering it very slowly. He slipped the gown over her shoulders and watched the silk fall to her feet. Then he lowered his head to her shoulder. He kissed it, grazing it lightly with his teeth, and she cast back her head, moaning softly at the jolt of liquid heat that raced through her. Her fingers tangled his dark hair, and she murmured, “Oh, Kane, I do love you so much. Please, please, be real!”

She thought he stiffened just a bit, but maybe it was the champagne. A second later it didn’t matter because he had found the hook to her bra and released it, and all she could think about was the sensation of his hand caressing her, teasing her nipple to an erotic peak. She caught his face and kissed him and demanded the right to help him shed his coat and his vest and shirt. …

Soon they both were naked, warm where they touched each other, cool where the breeze blew around them. But when he lifted her in his arms, he didn’t take her to bed. He carried her into the bathroom, where there was there a huge oval tub spilling over with bubbles—and sporting ice buckets of champagne at each end. Martine giggled delightedly, surprised that such a rugged man would give way to such whimsy, yet thrilled that he had.

He set her carefully into the tub, then crawled in beside her. She started to reach for the champagne.

“Not yet,” he told her huskily, and her eyes widened, for he was rising over her, catching her lips, pushing her knees apart with his own. She gasped with pure ecstasy when he moved into her with a swift thrust. She saw the glitter of his golden eyes and was thrilled, quivering as he held there, then demanding that he move. …

And when it was over, she was stunned again by the incredibly wonderful way it was possible to feel. Like a star in the heavens, like the sun, like a being composed of the sweetest nectar …

“Oh, Kane!” Delightfully sated and lazy, she slipped her arms around his neck and leaned against him, reveling in the warm water about her and the feel of his body next to hers.

He shifted slightly, holding her while he poured out a glass of champagne for them to share.

“Mmm,” she murmured, taking a sip and leaning against his chest. “Mr. Montgomery, you do know how to do a honeymoon right. I feel so … wonderfully, wonderfully weary!”

“Don’t get too weary on me, Mrs. Montgomery. We’ve just begun,” he whispered to her. He kissed her, and she tasted the champagne on his lips, and in a few minutes she learned that he didn’t say things that he didn’t entirely mean.

The night had just begun.

The honeymoon had just begun. The two days that followed were the best time Martie had ever had. They gambled; they swam; despite his disclaimers, they hit the tennis courts. Martine even learned the basics of golf.

She had known before that Kane knew how to work; now she learned that he knew how to play. They ate breakfast in bed, had lunch by the pool, and made love at any time.

It very simply was the best time of her life. She’d never felt more cherished or loved.

And she reflected, lying awake near dawn on the morning they were to leave, she had never thought it was possible to love someone so fiercely in return.

If she still felt that she didn’t really know everything she should about him, she had all the time in the world in which to learn. Love was this wonder, this experiencing. It was also learning to live together. And she told herself vehemently, it was trusting in the man she loved.

Staring at the slightly loose gold band on her finger, she curled more tightly against her husband. She had promised to love him. And if she loved him, she would give him her trust until he was ready to divulge more about himself.

CHAPTER SIX

T
HERE WERE FLOWERS ON
her dresser when she awoke in her own bed on Monday morning. They were the first thing that Martine saw, and she smiled and stretched luxuriously and closed her eyes once again. Her fingers smoothed over the pillow beside her where Kane had slept, and she decided with contentment that she loved being a wife.

Seconds later she opened her eyes again, then blinked quickly to focus on the bedside clock. It was almost one in the afternoon.

Martine bounded out of bed and into the shower. When she dressed and went into the kitchen, she was surprised to find Sonia there, humming away while she stirred chili in a big pot.

Sonia gave her a tremendous smile. “Morning, Mrs. Montgomery!” Then she dropped the wooden spoon and rushed over to give Martine a warm and slightly teary hug. “Oh, honey, I’m so very, very happy for you.”

Martine chuckled and then discovered that her own eyes were a little damp. Smiling, she held herself away from Sonia. “I take it Kane gave you the news.”

“He certainly did!” Sonia winked. “And he said not to wake you either, that you didn’t have much sleep over the weekend.”

Martie flushed slightly and walked over to the stove. “The chili smells great. Have you got coffee going?”

“Sure thing!”

Martine poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table with it. Sonia chatted on cheerfully about how sorry she was to have missed the wedding, but then an elopement could be very romantic.

“And your daddy would have been so very happy to see you with a man like that!”

Martine sipped her coffee thoughtfully. “Do you really think so, Sonia?”

“Would I say so if I didn’t?”

Martie hesitated for a moment, giving herself a little shake and wondering why she was suddenly feeling unsure. “Sonia, you’re not, uh, surprised that it’s all happened so fast?”

“Well, I’ve always believed that what’s right is right and what’s wrong can never be righted by time. You two just kind of have a thing about you. You did from the very start.” Sonia was stirring the chili again. She paused, her hand on her hip, and stared into space for a moment, then shrugged. “There’s no way to explain love or people. I don’t know exactly how you tell, but there’s something about that man that’s just as right as rain.”

Martie stood up, glad that Sonia’s instincts were the same as her own. She’d felt the strangest qualm sitting there drinking her coffee. It made no sense. She’d married Kane stone-cold sober because she’d wanted to; their brief honeymoon and return home had been bliss. Now, suddenly, she was frightened. It made no sense.

Martine set her coffee cup slowly in the sink, then turned back to Sonia. “Thanks for letting me sleep this morning. I guess I did need it. But, Sonia, do me a favor. Don’t let me make a habit out of sleeping all morning, okay?”

Sonia shrugged. “If you ask me, Martine, you two should still be off somewhere. A two-day honeymoon, what’s that?” She sniffed audibly.

“Well,” Martine murmured, “we can plan something longer somewhere along the line.” She paused. “Where’s Kane?”

“Said this morning that he was going out to the cliffs to try to trap that mountain cat.”

“Thanks. I think I’ll go find him,” Martine said cheerfully. She hurried to the door, but Sonia called her back.

“Martie, I forgot to tell you. You’re going to the senator’s for dinner at eight. Kane gave him the news, and he’s planning a small get-together.”

“Okay,” Martine said. Then she asked curiously, “By the way, what’s going on here? How come you’re in the kitchen and I could sleep all morning?”

Sonia laughed. “It’s just because everything’s really under control. Things are going smoothly, honey. You’ll just have to get used to it!”

Martine gave Sonia a weak smile and departed the kitchen, wondering again just what was the matter with her. She was married to a man she loved—even if he did still seem to be a bit of a stranger.

As she saddled Cheyenne she admitted to herself that she was a little jealous. She’d been struggling to get by, then along came Kane, and everything was suddenly easy. Maybe she felt she was losing her grip on things that were rightfully hers. After all, the Four-Leaf Clover was her ranch. Or was it? She had been the one to say that she didn’t believe in prenuptial agreements. If she were going to marry, it would be with the determination that the commitment was forever. And that made the Four-Leaf Clover Kane’s property too. She should be thrilled that he could do so well with it.

It was a long ride out to the cliffs, and by the time she reached them and started up one of the narrow dirt trails, she and Cheyenne both were soaked with sweat from the heat of the afternoon sun. Maybe coming out here had been a bad idea, Martine reflected. Surely, if Kane were only setting a trap, he would be through by now. She’d probably taken the long ride for nothing.

Curving through a path hewn between high rock boulders and small caves, Cheyenne suddenly stumbled. Cursing softly beneath her breath, Martine dismounted and had to dig in her pocket for a pick to clean out his hoof. She sighed a little with relief when she found the offending stone, but while she was at her task the horse sneezed, consequently resoaking her back.

“Ugh! You lowlife!” she said to the horse. “Honestly, try to help someone—even a horse—and …”

Her voice trailed away as she noticed a small cascade of dust and stones falling onto one of the boulders about twenty feet away. Looking up and shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand, she thought she saw something.

“Come on, horse,” she told Cheyenne. “Let’s make tracks.”

She led him upward along the trail. Reaching the barren patch of dust above the boulder, she found Kane’s big bay, Thor, stamping his feet and nicking his tail about to rid himself of annoying flies. Patting the horse, she frowned. “So he is still around somewhere, big fellow. Where?”

She hadn’t really expected an answer from the horse, and she didn’t get one. “All right, you two stay here,” she told Thor and Cheyenne. “I’ll find him myself.”

She started to explore the area a little nervously. She didn’t like the caves—rattlers were fond of making those cool spots their homes—and they really weren’t so much caves as they were caverns, with untrustworthy roofs formed of the stone shelves that made up the cliffs.

“Kane?” Martine called out, moving up to the dark entrance of one. She hesitated, waiting for answer, then jumped and gasped out a startled scream when a hand touched her on the shoulder.

It was Kane, and he was scowling darkly. Hardly the reception she would have expected from the man she had just married.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded curtly. He was wearing a hat against the sun, the brim low over his eyes.

“Looking for you,” she answered honestly, trying to study his features. Between the hat and the sun at his back she couldn’t read his expression, but his tension told her he was angry, and she felt confused and suddenly very, very insecure.

“Why?”

Martine shrugged, backing slightly against the hard rock formation. “I thought I’d find you, that’s all.” His hands were on his hips, and he looked like a dark and dangerous shadow against the sun. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” she muttered irritably. “I didn’t think it was a crime for a wife to look for her husband.”

He turned suddenly and walked down to the horses, calling over his shoulder, “And I didn’t think a marriage license meant a woman was supposed to keep hourly tabs on a man!”

Martie felt as if he had slapped her. Her breath sucked in with a rush as she watched his retreating back, and tears stung her eyes. She vaguely noted that he paused to grab a large pick and shovel off the ground, but then she turned in a sudden fury and walked several feet in the opposite direction to gaze out on the cactus-strewn plain far below the cliffs.

Damn him! Was the honeymoon over so soon? Was this their first marital spat? Or was it proof that she had made a rather serious mistake? “Married in haste, we may repent at leisure.”

“What are you doing?” he called out impatiently.

Martine spun around, astounded by the question. “I’m staring into space!” she snapped.

“Well, come on. It’s a long ride back.”

“I know how to get there,” she replied coolly. “I was the one born and raised here, you know.”

His head lowered, and she thought she could hear his sigh, even from a distance.

He raised his head, pushed his hat back, and walked toward her. “Martine.” He touched her shoulders; she couldn’t help jerking away. “I’m sorry. It’s hot out here, and it feels like it’s been a long day. Can we ride back, please?”

His tone sounded more impatient than apologetic, and she still felt hurt, miserably so. It was as if now that they were back to reality, marriage had changed everything. On top of that, she was suddenly being forced to realize that she had truly just married a man she didn’t know at all.

BOOK: Heather Graham
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