Jodi Thomas (33 page)

Slowly, with pain in her shoulder, she pulled off her robe. She slid her gown to her waist and scrubbed her tender flesh with soap. The Indian’s fingers had bruised her arms, and her shoulder felt feverish to her touch. She washed each inch of skin, then rinsed with cold water.

“Anna,” Chance whispered.

She turned, pulling her gown over her breasts as she moved. “Yes. What is it?” Was he in pain and calling her name? Quickly, she moved to the bedside. “Do you need something?”

“Sit down,” Chance ordered as he studied her. He showed no sign of being in pain or of having been asleep.

Carefully, Anna sat on the edge of the bed. She held her gown up with one hand as she felt his forehead with the other. “What is it?”

“Your shoulder,” he answered as his hand touched the dark bruises that now marred her cream-colored skin.

Anna smiled, relieved that he wasn’t in pain. “I fell on it. It’s nothing; only a bruise.” She couldn’t pull her eyes from his dark blue gaze. She saw the world in their depths, both the pain of his hard life and the pleasure he now felt as his hand brushed her shoulder.

Anna moved closer. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Does it hurt when I touch you?”

“No,” Anna lied.

“What about here?” Chance slid his fingers over her shoulder until he brushed her throat. His touch was as light as a feather and he made no move to pull her close.

“No.” Anna closed her eyes as his finger moved along her neck. She felt a warm stirring deep inside her that she’d never known before.

The air was thick with humidity and the clouds made it seem more like evening in the cabin than late morning. Anna’s skin was damp from her bath and his fingers slid smoothly over her flesh.

His hand moved up to her lips and one finger brushed her swollen bottom lip. “Does my touch hurt you now?” His voice was as low as the wind in the hills.

“No,” Anna answered, enjoying the feel of his fingers on her flesh.

He slid his hand down her throat to where the knife had scratched her neck. “And here?”

“No,” Anna whispered. His touch was warming her skin now, making her feel alive all over.

His callused fingers moved slowly down until they reached the point where her hand held up her gown. He covered her trembling hand as he whispered, “Am I hurting you now?”

Anna felt the slight pull of his hand as he removed her fist from between her breasts. He lifted her fingers to his lips as she felt her gown slide dangerously low over her breasts. Her breathing was rapid as she felt his lips against her fingers.

“Anna,” he whispered again, “am I hurting you now?”

“No.”

He spread her palm open against his chest and she felt the strong beat of his heart as his fingers returned to her shoulder. “I would never hurt you, Anna. Your skin is silk to my touch.”

Slowly, moving his hand over her shoulder, his fingers circled lower until he reached the softness of the swell of her breast. “Does my touch hurt you now?” he asked as his hand trailed across the line of her gown.

“No.” Anna sucked in a sudden breath of air as her gown drifted down and Chance’s touch crossed her nipple. She closed her eyes and floated on the wave of new sensations that overwhelmed her. His hands moved over her breasts and brushed the soft flesh just beneath each mound.

Leaning her head back, she was unable to do anything but enjoy the tender massage of his hand. She felt him slide the gown down to the flat of her stomach. There he spread his palm wide and circled her warm flesh. He returned again and again to brush her breasts as though he wanted to make sure every inch of her skin would feel fully alive.

His touch was something she had never wanted, never asked for, but its gentleness was impossible to turn away. He moved over her as silently as the sun covers the earth, spreading warmth and joy with each pass of his fingers.

“Anna,” he whispered as his hand cupped one breast, “tell me you want more. Tell me my touch stirs a fire in you. Tell me you’ll lay next to me tonight and let me touch you again.” He pulled her gown over her bruised shoulder.

Opening her eyes, Anna stared into his smoky blue eyes and knew she didn’t want his touch to end, but he was weak and this was not the time. “I’ll . . .”

Chance moved the other side of the gown over her other shoulder and she wondered if the pain she saw in his eyes was because of his movement or because he, like her, didn’t want the moment to end.

His voice was only a whisper. “Are you afraid? You’ve felt my touch, Anna. Would you back away even though I saw the pleasure it brought you?”

Anna stood, surprised at what had happened between them and a little embarrassed. But she wouldn’t lie. “I was not afraid.”

Closing his eyes, Chance drifted into sleep without another word.

All afternoon Anna thought of his touch as she worked. She could feel her whole being tense just at the memory of his caresses. Was this part of what he called loving? And if so, did she want any more of it, knowing that once he was gone there would always be a longing in her for more?

By the time the sun sank in the west, Anna had made up her mind. No matter how much she desired his touch, she would have to live without it. Yet she already knew her mind was lying to her heart, and her body would overrule them both.

C
arl and Selma arrived at dusk with dinner in their arms, and Anna welcomed their questions and their company. Chance talked little, not even teasing Selma about her cooking. Watching his slow movements, Anna knew he was in pain even though he shrugged off her attempts to help.

Carl talked of all the things he planned to make in the fall and Selma played with the baby. The couple’s everyday actions soothed Anna’s nerves and gave her a warm feeling. She watched Carl’s skillful hands put the crib back together by firelight. Later, over Chance’s protests, they all checked his head wound and everyone, except Chance, agreed that he should stay in bed at least a few more days.

When Anna finally walked her neighbors to the path, she hugged them both and thanked them for all they’d done. She felt blanketed in family and friends for the first time in her life. There was no more fear for Cherish’s life lurking in the back of her mind. Her daughter could grow up without watching over her shoulder to see if Walks Tall was following her, stalking her. All seemed as peaceful as the evening sky.

Anna walked slowly back to the cabin, enjoying the whisper of fall on the breeze and the smell of their dinner fire blending with the wilderness air. She studied the huge pile of logs Chance had cut and stacked, ready to become the walls to her new home. “My home,” she whispered. She could almost feel herself bonding with this country just as the maverick grapevine wound around every pole and stump. Each day this land became more a part of her, and she of it. The morning’s battle had only strengthened her will to survive and build a life on this land.

Moving slowly into the cabin, she saw Chance asleep and Maggie lying on the covers next to him, her small hand resting on his bandaged ribs. Anna carried her to the high bed at the window, then moved to the only dark corner of the dugout to change into her nightgown. She sat by the fire for over an hour feeding Cherish, relaxing and thinking about how Chance had fought for her that morning. How could he be such a wild man one moment and so tender the next? How could the same man who’d threatened to kill Walks Tall have touched her so gently, as though he’d never touched a woman in his life?

Anna laid Cherish in her crib and slid into bed next to Chance. She was a little disappointed that he wasn’t awake. Although she’d told herself she would say no if he wanted to touch her again, she lay awake, waiting for him to pull her near. The fresh, wild smell that always reminded her of leather and horses and strength surrounded her, as his strong arm rested beside her own. His muscles were relaxed, but she knew they were always ready to tense if danger came near. A part of her mind was frightened by him, yet a part of her heart was fascinated. He was a good man, maybe the best she’d ever known, but there was a wildness about him, a part that would never be bridled or broken. She lay awake, wondering what she would do with him . . . or without him.

An hour before dawn, when the night moves on stockinged feet and even the wind rests, Anna heard Chance whisper her name and she lay still as he touched her cheek. “Anna, are you awake?”

Anna nodded, excited and afraid all at once. His mouth was so near that she could feel the warmth of his words. “Relax, my beautiful wife. Relax while I teach you about touching.” His words wove a magic all their own. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m going to touch you just as I did yesterday.” He buried his face into her loose hair. “I’m going to move slowly. If I do anything that doesn’t make you feel good, tell me and I’ll stop. Do you understand?”

Anna liked the smoky gray of the cabin, making everything that happened now seem not quite real, but more like a wonderful dream. She felt warm and protected. “I don’t want you to . . .” She fought back the joy as his fingers slid lightly over her nightgown and she rolled toward him even as she whispered, “I’m not sure I want . . .” Her mind ordered her to stop him, but her heart begged for his touch.

“Anna,” he whispered back as he softly kissed her cheek, “don’t lie to me. When I came so close to death yesterday, I realized I’d have to have the heaven of touching you. Each time a blow struck I thought of you next to me like this and not of the pain of Walks Tall’s fists. Over and over again, I thought of touching you.”

Leisurely he pulled the ribbons open on the front of her gown. “You’ve never lied to me. Don’t start now.” He slid his finger down the opening of her gown, branding a line of fire along her flesh. “When I first saw this gown with all its ribbons, I wondered what it would be like to pull each free from its bow.” He drew his finger back up to her chin and lifted it slightly. “Tell me to touch you.” His voice was low and rich in her ears. “I have to know that you want this between us as much as I do.”

“Touch me,” she whispered and felt the joy of his fingers pulling her gown open. Her breasts slid free from the cotton and were brushed by the cool morning air before his warm fingers moved across them.

He touched her as he had before, with light, circling strokes over her body. His fingers brushed her breasts and spread over her stomach in a caress. She relaxed, enjoying the feelings he was awakening. As her pleasure grew stronger, his touch grew bolder, cupping her breasts and gently pulling at her nipples.

As she cried softly with pleasure, he pulled her against him, flattening her into the wall of his chest. His hands moved over her back, molding her along his length. She heard his breathing grow labored and stopped his hand. “Wait. Are you in pain?” Pressing lightly against his bandaged ribs, she whispered, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Chance laughed. “I’m in pain, but not from my bruises.” He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed each finger, wondering how she would react if she knew the full extent of his passion. He longed to roll atop her and push deep into the feather mattress with their bodies. But he would not frighten her. Gently, he molded her against him, feeling her warm flesh against his heart. Slowly, he pushed the gown to her waist. He moved his hands along her velvet skin. As his mouth lightly kissed her face, his fingers traveled over her hips and pressed her against him. She stiffened slightly in surprise, but his mouth covered her lips before she could protest.

His kiss was light, innocent, as his hands began stroking her back once more. This time when his fingers covered her hips and pulled her against him, his kiss deepened, pulling her with him into pleasure.

Her arms struggled at his sides and he released her. As he pulled away with a groan of dread and the knowledge that he’d gone too far once more, her arms slid over his shoulders and around his neck.

She pressed her body against him and whispered, “Teach me more of that kiss.”

Chance laughed with relief and threaded his fingers through her hair. “What a demanding woman you’ve suddenly become.” He moved his thumb to her chin and pulled her mouth open.

He’d meant to only show her one kiss, but the sweet taste of her mouth drove him mad. He kissed her full and hard as his hands gently explored her body. Her mouth was a sweet wine demanding to be drunk and Chance had waited a lifetime for a taste.

When he finally ended the lesson, Chance leaned back against the headboard. He closed his eyes, absorbed in the wonder of her. He needed her to be his wife, his woman, his love, but she was only playing a game of which a kiss was an end in itself and not a part of a journey to be traveled. He had to stop before she hated him as she had her first husband.

She stretched against him. “Is the lesson over?”

Chance opened an eye and saw her hair spilling across his chest as she rested her head. “Do you want it to be, my Anna? It will be dawn soon and Maggie will be awake. We must stop this pleasure.” He moved his hand slowly from her throat to her side. “Tell me that you love my touch.”

“And if I don’t?” Anna laughed as he tickled her arm.

“Then I’ll keep doing it every night until I get it right.” His hand cupped one mound and pulled it slightly toward him. “I’d like to continue this in a few days without these bandages.”

Anna cuddled under his arm. His fingers tilted her head up until he could lightly brush kisses over her face. His hand continued to move over her in gentle strokes.

She knew she could turn away and put a halt to his exploring fingers, but she didn’t want him to stop. A need deep inside her began to rise to the surface. For the first time in her life she wanted to touch someone and be touched. “Thank you.” Her breath was warm against his side.

“Anytime, ma’am.” He held her a little too tightly for a moment before relaxing.

Slowly, he removed his hand and pulled her nightgown together. “Go back to sleep, Anna.” His words were tight and low. “I can take no more of your pleasure and keep my word not to have you as my wife fully.”