Lawman (37 page)

She wanted to give him love, and feel loved
in return.

Megan edged closer, and their bare feet
touched. She gazed down at his toes, and was reminded of the
astonishing moment when Gabriel had yanked off his boots and hose
and come toward her in their room. When she lifted her head, she
saw that he stared downward, too.

Doubtless remembering as well.

"I've been thinking on your quest for
equality between us," she said. Emboldened by the fond smile that
came to his lips, Megan raised her hands to the neckline of her
gown and slipped her fingers round till she came to the first pearl
button. Keeping her gaze on Gabriel, she worked the button free.
"I've decided the notion has merit."

"Mmmm.
Yes
."

His murmured response was all the
encouragement she needed—that and the tell-tale hunger in his eyes.
Raptly, he watched her work free the next button. Only one more
remained, and they would be equally unfastened.

"Nearly equal," she said. Her fingers
trembled as she slipped the third pearly fastener through its
place. "There!"

"Beautiful," Gabriel whispered.

And in that moment, she believed it was
true.

His fingers touched her throat, then slid
sensuously downward. They passed over her locket and chain, then
delved with aching slowness between the halves of her calico
bodice. Awash with yearning, she felt his knuckles caress the swell
of her bosom. He traced the unbuttoned edge of her dress, then
slipped his fingers inside to touch the place where her heartbeat
fluttered.

Undiluted pleasure followed. Megan held her
breath, suspended by yearning and need and undeniable curiosity, as
Gabriel gradually flattened his hand. The sensation of skin against
skin, of her softness pressed close against his hands'
work-roughened strength, felt amazingly good. Lost in it, savoring
it, she let her eyes drift closed.

Gabriel's voice merged with the velvety
darkness. "I claim the final question of our trade," he said.
"Before I lose the wits to ask it at all."

Her eyes opened. What could he possibly want
to know so badly, that he'd ask it now—of all times?

Trying to ignore the persistent thud of her
heartbeat against his palm, she looked at him.
Dear God, don't
ask me something about papa
, Megan prayed.
Don't sour this
moment with Pinkerton instincts and suspicion
. But what else
could it be?

"All—all right," she said, proud of how
calmly she spoke her assent. "What is your question?"

He gazed into her eyes. Slowly, he moved his
hand lower against her bare skin. When he cupped her breast in his
palm, all conscious thought fled in an instant, chased by shivers
of pure delight. It felt as though her body was made to fit in his
hand this way, as though every part of her loved being next to
him.

Gabriel must have felt it, too. He threw
back his head, exposing the taut column of his neck, and swallowed
hard. When next he looked at her, his green eyes shone fiercely in
the moonlight.

"How does this feel to you, Meg? How does
it—God, I can scarcely speak...what do you feel now, right
now?"

He caressed her, and her nipple puckered
against his hand. Beset with longing, Megan swayed against the rail
behind her, all her attention focused on the sweetness rushing
through her. Finally, she blinked and managed to formulate an
answer.

"You—you wasted your last question to ask me
how I feel when you touch me?"

Gabriel nodded, intensely serious.

"I feel...." Her breath escaped her on a
ragged sigh. "I feel as though I could touch the stars, as though I
have such wondrous, soaring strength right now that I could pluck
one from the sky and hold it in my hand. And I feel—" She paused,
licked her lips. "—I feel as though I want to take you with me when
I do it."

I feel loved
, she thought, and found
herself too afraid to say the words.

His smile was a gift, a promise...a delight.
"I don't need stars to fill my hands," Gabriel murmured, tightening
his arm around her waist. Gently, he rubbed his thumb over her
beaded nipple, drawing new shivers from her. "I'm already holding
everything I want in the world."

The husky truth in his voice brought a
prickle of tears to her eyes—and, along with them, a smile. "You
have a romantic soul inside you, Gabriel Winter. Who would have
guessed it, with all this roughness outside to hide it?"

She ran her hands along his arms, moving
upward over his crumpled shirt and the corded muscles beneath, then
touched his shoulders. Bravely, Megan lowered her hands as Gabriel
had done. Heat filled her palms. His naked chest rose on an indrawn
breath, making his scattering of dark hairs tickle her fingers. She
gave a delighted laugh and smoothed the swirls beneath her
thumbs.

She looked into his face and saw that his
gaze was fastened on her hands. Through half-shuttered lids, he
watched her stroke him. Megan's stomach pitched with excitement
when she recognized what his expression meant.

He desired her. Wanted her to touch him.

Maybe even as much as she wanted him to
touch her in return.

"I'm not so rough," he said, forming slow,
squeezing circles over her breast as he spoke. "At least not all
over."

"You're not?" Puzzled—and intrigued—Megan
cocked her head and examined the hard body at her fingertips.
Experimentally, she pushed her finger at the wall of his chest.
"You seem as though you are to me."

His midnight smile returned. "You haven't
discovered all of me yet."

As though in demonstration, he briefly
withdrew his hands from her. Grasping the gaping edges of his
shirt, Gabriel gave it a mighty yank. Buttons popped and flew,
scattering over the balcony's stone floor. Moments later, his shirt
hung open at his sides, stirring in the breeze that washed over
them both. He stood before her with his chest bared.

She stared in wonder. Having touched him,
having felt him, Megan was no stranger to the angles and form of
Gabriel's body. But this...this was different, somehow. Intimate
and exciting. With a question in her eyes, she looked up at
him.

"Suddenly, I find myself keenly interested
in exploring," she said, smiling over her own boldness. It was as
though her entire sense of propriety had deserted her upon
bestowing her knight with his well-earned boon, and now she had
nothing left save curiosity, and need. "Can I...touch you?"

"God,
yes
."

He moved closer again. Their bodies touched,
chest to chest, as Gabriel pulled her into another kiss. More
kisses followed, each one more fervent than the last. Gasping,
Megan threw herself into the circle of his arms, all-but climbing
his trouser-clad legs in an effort to come nearer and nearer still.
Gabriel filled her senses, setting her body awhirl with new
sensitivity and potent new possibilities.

Her nipples puckered, seeking the feel of
his hand again. Unerringly, Gabriel knew. He cupped both breasts in
his hands, groaning his pleasure at the caress, and stroked her
through the thin layer of calico separating her skin from his.
Megan ached to have it removed. If she'd worn anything more, if her
underclothes had been dry and clean enough to wear, she'd surely
have swooned in his arms.

As it was, her whole body heated beneath her
dress. Her skin tingled with awareness of the good feelings washing
through her, as though the sun had risen someplace near her knees
and its golden light still flowed over her skin. Gabriel lowered
his head to her neck, moved aside her partly opened dress to kiss
the slope of her breast, and the heat inside her burned. Dimly, she
felt him nudge more buttons through their buttonholes, felt the
night air cool her newly exposed skin. With a movement of his lips
as tender as a whisper, Gabriel kissed her naked breast.

Helplessly, Megan arched against him. She
wanted more of this, more of his mouth on her skin and his arms
holding her tightly. Instantly, she had all she'd hoped for, and
more. His tongue stroked her, urging first one nipple into an
aching crest, and then the other. His moan vibrated against her,
thrilling her anew. This was what it meant to be cherished and
desired.

This was what it felt like to be loved.

"Ohhhh, Gabriel." Blindly, she raised her
face to the sky and clutched his head to her, burying her fingers
in the thick waves of his hair. "Ohhh, that feels wonderful."

His loving went on and on, his hands
stroking and shaping her, his mouth creating an ever-increasing
desire inside her. Hungry to feel him, too, Megan slipped her
fingers inside his opened shirt and ran her hands over his back,
across his chest, past the tight-ridged muscles of his belly. Her
thumbs brushed his gun belt, then moved on to the coarse twill
fabric of his trousers' waistband.

With a sudden groan, Gabriel stopped her
explorations. He swung her into his arms, and Megan squealed in
surprise. He looked down, smiling, and silenced her with a
kiss.

"I might have known you'd not let anything
interfere with what you want," he told her, looking perversely
pleased at the notion. "You're as bold as I'd imagined, sugar. But
this—" His nod encompassed the balcony around them and the
pueblo
sleeping below them. "—this will not do for all I
have in mind for you."

She trembled at the promise in his voice,
even as he turned. Still holding her effortlessly in his arms,
Gabriel strode between the opened balcony doors and into the warm
luxury of their room.

There, the fire's embers lent the
furnishings a ruby-gold glow, combining with the low lamplight to
give everything a magical, gilded gleam. The four-poster bed waited
to hug them into its snowy coverlet and piled lacy pillows. The
Chinese screen stood ready to capture their cast-off clothes atop
its vividly painted panels. Gabriel carried her past it, walked
beyond the washstand where the stacked bars of coconut soap
perfumed the air with their subtle fragrance, and settled her
finally on the edge of the bed.

Feet curling against the foot board, Megan
reluctantly left his arms. She watched him step away and unfasten
his gun belt, transfixed by the motions of his strong, agile hands.
Those hands had touched her, caressed her bare skin and brought
about the kind of pleasure she'd never known existed. Who knew what
new magic remained to be seen and tasted and felt between the two
of them this night?

At the thought, renewed anticipation rushed
through her. Feeling shivery and uncertain and eager, Megan watched
him cast aside his gun belt, her attention momentarily caught by
the contrast of its weathered leather and weapons against the
delicate pink chintz of the chair he laid them across. The
combination seemed as unlikely as she and Gabriel were together,
their dealings with each other sweet and rugged by turns.

But in the end, undeniably
complimentary.

When she looked up, he'd stripped off his
shirt, as well. It fell from his hand in a mass of rumpled white
and landed atop his gun belt, partly hiding it from view. With a
wink, Gabriel closed the doors to the balcony, sealing them in a
shared silence disturbed only by the tick of the mantel clock and
the occasional falling ember.

He moved closer, his stride filled with lean
masculine grace. The lamplight cast a golden gleam over his
shoulders and upper body, lending his hard-angled features a new
shadowy mystery—and a new, fascinating intensity. His gaze lowered
from her face to her bosom, then swept clear to Megan's bare
toes.

"We're no longer equal," he said,
punctuating his observation with a kiss. He wrapped his arm around
her waist—his height a perfect match to hers, thanks to the tall
bedstead—and dropped his gaze meaningfully to the neckline of her
dress. "But I'd be happy to make it so."

He lifted the long hair that had slipped
forward over her shoulders, sweeping it into a heavy mass at her
back. His fingers brushed over her shoulders, skimmed past her
collarbones, then found her remaining dress buttons.

"Yes," Megan whispered, arching nearer in
his arms.

With a slow, knowing smile, he began
unbuttoning. Beneath the unabashed desire in Gabriel's eyes, she
knew no fear or modesty. No hesitation. Captured within the charm
of his smile, she felt like the most alluring of temptresses. As
though in proof of it, Megan joined her fingers in the task with
his, eager to be bared before him...and to feel their bodies meet
once more, skin against skin.

Her dress eased downward, revealing her
naked shoulders. Breath held, she grasped the loosened fabric just
above her bosom, watching as Gabriel lowered his head. His kiss
touched her shoulder, then her neck, then her other shoulder in its
turn. His hair whisked across her chest, creating uncountable tiny
caresses. Never would she have expected a man so powerful as
Gabriel to have hair so soft.

Nor would she have expected a touch so
gentle.

His hand lifted to her wrists, his thumb
rubbing carefully over the delicate skin beneath her forearm. With
a murmured request, he raised her arm and pressed a kiss to the
inside of her wrist, then continued his kisses upward toward her
shoulder. His tongue teased the crease of her elbow, sending a
delightful shiver through her.

Megan sighed in wonder, happy to release the
first half of her dress from her suddenly languid grasp. The fabric
pooled around the hand she kept splayed over her bosom, only barely
shielding her from Gabriel's view. Seemingly without a care for
those calico folds, he took his time in reaching her neck, then
nuzzled her there.

"Ahhh, Meg," he said, raising his face
toward her. "You feel so soft, so...so good."

He clasped her hand and threaded their
fingers together, stroking his thumb over the back of her hand. His
breath came quickly, in marked contrast to the patience he showed
her. His cheeks looked flushed, his eyes glittery with finely
restrained emotion. Somehow, Megan sensed there was more to the
loving he'd shown her, and wondered at his lingering now.