In a Cowboy’s Arms (29 page)

Miss Jennean laced her fingers together and stared at the table, the odd quake that shook her body hinting she’d either known of or suffered a similar fate. “If he can’t have you, he’ll make damn sure nobody else does either.”

“Yes. Even now I feel Dade is risking his life by staying with me.”

“He won’t desert you,” Miss Jennean said again.

“I know.” Maggie swallowed hard. “I’ll have to be the one who walks away.”

A companionable silence wove around them, invisible ribbons of understanding that bound two women together. She’d felt the beginnings of this feminine connection with Daisy for that brief time in the orphanage and the journey west. She’d had the same connection with Caroline Nowell, coming close to understanding the bond between sisters or close friends.

Now it had happened again with a kind madam who she admired and respected for carving a niche for herself in this world and providing well for her own daughter. But like all the others, the tie was destined to be short-lived.

“Maybe fate will be kinder to you than you think,” Miss Jennean said.

“I can only hope.” But she knew that’d only happen if Whit and Nowell gave up on seeking retribution and let her be.

The madam reached over and patted her arm, the gesture so maternal that Maggie felt her eyes burn with unshed tears. This was another thing she’d missed all her life. That connection with a mother.

Mrs. Nowell certainly hadn’t paid her the time of day.

But here at the Crossroads, sitting with Miss Jennean, she felt that closeness to another woman. She sensed the madam truly cared. It was the most uplifting experience she’d ever had in her life.

“If you get with child and can’t take care of yourself properly, come back here,” Miss Jennean said. “You’ll have a home at the Crossroads for as long as you’d like.”

“Thank you, Miss Jennean.”

“My pleasure. Let’s see about making you irresistible to a certain cowboy tonight.”

Maggie was more than willing to do anything as she trailed Miss Jennean up to her exquisite suite. She’d seen expansive wardrobes before, but this was the first time she’d been in a room devoted to nothing but a lady’s wardrobe.

Lavish gowns hung on wooden rods. Bandboxes were neatly stacked on shelves. A wall of drawers spilled with lacy confections that had to be the most daring undergarments Maggie had ever seen. Why some of the corselets were so brief and transparent that one might as well be naked.

“That’s the idea,” Miss Jennean said in answer to Maggie’s spoken worry. It was likely an unnecessary one by the madam’s standards.

“You want me to wear that in front of Dade?” she asked, and an odd little thrill of excitement zinged through her at the idea of being so bold.

Miss Jennean lifted one delicately arched eyebrow at her protest. “If you can’t imagine letting the man you intend to have sex with see you in this, then why attempt to seduce him at all?”

Why indeed? Insecurity. Inadequacy. The fear of rejection.

Maggie fingered the sheer black garment and gulped, for the last was her greatest fear. Nobody had ever wanted her. Not her real family. Not the first couple who brought her into their home and got rid of her for bringing tragedy into their lives. Certainly not the Nowells who took her in but who never opened their arms or hearts to her.

The madam was right. Maggie needed to tuck all her timidity, self-doubt, and rocky sense of self-worth into the small recesses of her mind and go into this seduction of Dade Logan with her eyes wide open.

“All right. I’ll wear it.”

“That’s the spirit.” Miss Jennean perched on a plush chair and made no move to grant her privacy. “I know you’ll be breathtaking in this confection.”

“You can’t think I’d put this on with you watching?”

“I don’t know why not,” Miss Jennean said. “The body isn’t something to be ashamed of. They come in all shapes and sizes, and I dare say I’ve seen them all.”

She didn’t doubt that for a second, but it didn’t make revealing her own inadequacies any easier. “Very well, but I’ll warn you now that there is nothing remarkable about me.”

God knows Mrs. Nowell had told her that all too often as Maggie went from a tall and sturdy child to a gangly young woman. When Caroline had needed a back brace, Mrs. Nowell had insisted Maggie wear one too so she’d learn proper posture.

With an economy of movement, she stepped from the dressing gown and removed her short corset. She felt naked standing there wearing only her modest shift.

“That goes too,” Miss Jennean said.

Maggie groaned, sure her face was red as a beet. But she whisked it off and stood there stone-faced, reminded of the times she’d had to suffer an inspection for lice at the orphanage. She also remembered later times when Mrs. Nowell had rudely interrupted Maggie’s bath and found fault with her long legs, narrow hips, and full bosom.

She reached for the black garment Miss Jennean held, fighting the urge to attempt to cover herself with her hands.

“You, my dear, are your own worst enemy.” Miss Jennean leaned back and gave Maggie a long critical assessment that made her want to run and hide. “Black is too severe for you. Your pale skin needs the heat of color.”

She’d rather have a nice warm wrapper, but a glance at the frothy unmentionables in here showed that each was all but transparent. What had she gotten herself into?

Miss Jennean rummaged in a drawer and held up a minuscule red corset cover and matching red drawers trimmed in lace. Though wide, the red lace straps just barely made purchase on her shoulders. The plain sheer bodice slid over her bare skin like silk.

Maggie fingered the fine fabric. She had never owned anything red in her life. Red drew too much attention, Mrs. Nowell said. So she had dressed Caroline and Maggie in drab greens and blues all their lives.

Well, Caroline had been allowed to wear pink on occasion. But Maggie never had, which was likely why she was most comfortable blending in to her surroundings like a chameleon.

She certainly couldn’t be missed wearing red. She didn’t look like herself. She looked a bit decadent, daring and womanly.

But Miss Jennean was right about the color warming her skin. Instead of looking stark, her pale skin took on a warm honey hue.

“Now for the crowning touch.” Miss Jennean made short work of adjusting the corselet to mold over Maggie’s form, tightening it just enough at the waist to make her hips look womanly.

Maggie wet her dry lips, which trembled slightly. The corselet gathered the drawers just enough to shadow the hair between her legs. But it tightened the silk over her bosom and clearly delineated her nipples.

“Dade will not be able to resist you in this,” Miss Jennean said.

“If you say so.” For if he rejected her after she’d blatantly offered herself to him, she’d be too shamed to leave with him in the morning.

And maybe that was for the best too. Better to know it now than later.

“What do I do?”

Miss Jennean laughed and gave her a gentle hug. “Just go into his room and smile. Nature will guide you the rest of the way.”

Maggie shook her head. “I can’t just walk into his room for no reason.” Never mind that her reason was seduction.

“You won’t be,” Miss Jennean said. “He asked for something earlier, and I told him I’d have it brought to his room tonight. I want you to take it to him.”

Well, that would certainly get her into his room, but the flaw in that plan was just too obvious. “He’ll know this was set up to tempt him.”

“He likely will assume that, but he’ll have difficulty remaining annoyed.”

Maggie wasn’t so sure, but she’d gone this far. She might as well go all the way.

Tonight she’d either have what she’d wanted or be heartbroken. She was well acquainted with that feeling.

“All right. I’m ready.”

Miss Jennean smiled and got to her feet. “If I may give you one more piece of advice. Don’t hold back. Let your emotions guide you with Dade.”

Right now her emotions were wound tight, telling her to run like hell. And she just might do that if Dade turned away from her.

“I will try my best,” Maggie said. “Just give me whatever you were sending to his room, and I’ll be on my way.” To sensual bliss or disaster.

Maggie knew it could easily go either way. In fact, considering her case of nerves, she’d likely be the worst lover he’d ever had. If they even got that far.

Miss Jennean extracted a small vial from her pocket and handed it to Maggie. “Give him this.”

She took the vial filled with powder. “What is it?”

“Saltpeter.” Miss Jennean snorted. “Do you know what it is used for?”

Maggie’s cheeks burned. “They used it at the orphanage on the bigger boys to diminish their urges.”

“How sad to use this on children,” Miss Jennean said. “There are few reasons to give this to a man unaware.”

But Dade wasn’t unaware. “Dade asked for this?”

“Yes, he did.” She smiled. “I knew why. He’s smitten with you, Maggie. He’s afraid he won’t be able to control himself.”

Maggie looked from the vial clutched in her hand to her decadent outfit. “And you still think I should be the one to deliver this to him?”

“Without a doubt. He’s vulnerable, and you are simply irresistible tonight.”

That remained to be seen. “Well, I suppose time will tell.”

“Think positively, Maggie.”

She smiled, having given up hopeless dreams long ago. “Good night.”

She crossed to her own room with a world of uncertainty riding her shoulders. A lamp burned low on the dresser and cast a welcoming glow on the room, and the bed had been turned down.

Miss Jennean must have sent her housekeeper in, for she seemed to think it was a given that Dade would pounce on her the moment he saw her. Maggie wasn’t convinced.

He’d asked for a powder to suppress his sexual tendencies. He didn’t want to make love with her–nothing could be plainer. Yet here she was, ready to tempt him to do just that.

Except she was afraid to take the chance.

She should just take the powder to him and leave. But she didn’t want to spend the rest of this night in her bed alone.

With a bolstering indrawn breath, Maggie crossed to the connecting door and pounded on the wooden panel before she could change her mind. The silence that answered her took the starch from her spine.

In the event he’d dosed off, she gave the door another hard knock. Again, nothing but silence.

Either he wasn’t in his room or he wasn’t going to answer her. She turned to cross to her bed. The best she could hope for this night was rest.

She was halfway to the bed when the connecting door opened behind her. A strange mix of nerves and bravado seized her just knowing that Dade had caught her in this outrageous getup.

“Maggie?”

She forced a composed smile and turned to him. And she promptly forgot how to breathe. He was bare to the waist and barefoot, and she thought he was the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen in her life.

“I thought you were asleep,” she said at last.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He was staring at her with a hunger that made her limbs feel like jelly. Had his breathing become more erratic as well?

She made to clutch her own trembling hands together and realized she had a death grip on the vial of saltpeter. Good grief she was making a muck of this.

Maggie crossed to him on shaky legs and held out the vial. “Miss Jennean asked me to give you this.”

“Did she now?” He took it and rolled the vial over and over in his palm. “She tell you why?”

She shook her head. “She only told me what it was.”

Dade scratched his chest, the movement of skin shifting over taut muscle so intriguing she couldn’t tear her gaze away. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” she said and hoped she sounded flippant.

He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorjamb. “You trying to tell me you was wearing that under your gown at dinner?”

“Of course not.”

This was her chance to seduce him, and they were on the verge of an argument. That couldn’t be a good thing.

“Then why are you dressed like that?”

Nothing could make her confess the truth. “My clothes are being cleaned, so Miss Jennean let me borrow these.”

One dark eyebrow winged up. “At this time of night?”

“We’re leaving before dawn,” she said, and he nodded.

My, but that was a shaky gesture. Interesting that he seemed to be staring at her bosom again.

Miss Jennean swore he wouldn’t be able to resist her. Could it be true?

She drew in a deep breath, and his throat worked. She took a step toward him, and his breathing hitched.

“These are a bit risqué,” she said, her hands fluttering at her bodice with the intention of undoing the top hooks of her corselet. “Miss Jennean said this color was perfect for me.”

“Perfect,” he repeated, staring at her with open hunger now.

She gave the hooks another tug, but they wouldn’t budge. Not once, not twice, but three times they remained firm.

Genuine panic set in. She’d be miserable if she had to spend the night in this.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

She looked up to see he’d straightened. “The hooks are stuck.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure I can’t get out of this without help,” she said.

He groaned, and she was certain he wouldn’t volunteer to undress her. But he closed the distance between them and slid his thumb between the corselet and her skin.

She surrendered to a telling shiver and pressed her palms against his warm firm chest. A moan escaped her lips as he freed one hook then another.

“Damn,” he said, though it was barely a whisper of sound.

She slid her palms up his chest, marveling at the muscles shifting beneath her palms. This is what she’d craved, to touch him as he’d touched her before.

“You make me feel things I’ve never felt before,” she said.

“You’re doing a fair job on me too.” The corselet fell away and his palms cupped her bosom. “Maggie, you might as well be naked.”

Just what she’d said to Miss Jennean. “Good idea for both of us.”

She dragged her palms down to his waist and skimmed her fingers beneath the belt. He stiffened and hissed a breath, but he didn’t back off. He didn’t stop caressing her through the scrap of silk either.