Miner's Daughter (35 page)

The rag rug beside the bed was one Mari had
made herself, during the cold winter of two years prior, when it
had been too cold to work the mine and she’d had nothing else to
do. She’d always been glad she’d done it, since the bare wooden
floor could be perniciously cold of a winter’s morning. Now she was
glad she’d done it because it made the room look less pitiful.

During the day she covered her bed with a
shabby but colorful spread and propped cushions on it so it could
serve as a sofa when folks came to call. She shoved the cushions
aside and sat, guiding Tony to do likewise. He did and took her in
his arms.

He didn’t kiss her again at once, but
whispered tenderly, “Will this be your first time, Mari?”

Shocked that he’d even ask her that, she
jerked back and stared at him. “I beg your pardon? What kind of
girl do you think I am, anyhow?”

She was surprised when he threw his head back
and started laughing. She didn’t know whether she should be
offended or not, and was still contemplating whether to laugh with
him or slap his mouth shut when he solved her problem by saying, “I
think you’re the most wonderful kind of girl, Mari Pottersby.
You’re a true original, a paragon of hardy womanhood, a glorious
natural creature. You’re not only lovely to look at, but marvelous
to know.”

Oh. That kind of took the wind out of her
sails, but she enjoyed hearing it. In fact, she felt herself flush
and tucked her chin in, embarrassed. Tony tilted it up again. “I
like it when you lift your chin, Mari. I can always tell when
you’re going to light into me by that chin of yours.”

“Really?” She’d had no idea.

“Your chin is like Tiny’s tail. It’s a clue
to your mood.”

Because she didn’t want to make too much out
of his words in case they were only flattery, she said jokingly,
“Are you comparing me to a dog?”

“I sure am. You’re as unusual and perfect as
your unusual and perfect dog. I can’t think of another creature I’d
rather be like than Tiny.”

“I’m still not sure I find the comparison
complimentary, Tony Ewing. Tiny’s big as a house, and. I’m
not.”

“No.” His voice went low and caressing again.
“You’re definitely not. You’re slender and lithe and marvelous.
I’ve been wanting to make love with you for the longest time,
Mari.”

“You have?” Good heavens.

“I have.” He held her by her shoulders and
gazed into her eyes. “But I won’t do it unless you want me to.”

She swallowed. Blast. She was always having
to make difficult decisions. Didn’t anything in life ever just
happen naturally? As ever, Mari took the bull by the horns and
dealt with it. “I want you to.”

Tony’s fervent “Thank God” sounded genuine to
Mari. She guessed he really did want her.

Then he kissed her, and her question about
things happening naturally was in a way being answered. His passion
was so hot, it seemed to melt her very bones and she sank against
him, willing him to do whatever he wanted with her. He made her
body sing. She hadn’t realized how delightful a man’s hands could
feel against her skin. Which made sense. How should she?

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered at one point
as he was unbuttoning her shirtwaist.

Mari almost believed him because he sounded
so sincere. She wondered if he found her tanned skin off-putting,
since refined ladies were always depicted with skin as white as
snow. But she decided to give herself break. If the man said she
was beautiful, she’d believe him. At least for tonight. She’d deal
with tomorrow when it came.

When he’d undone the last button, he slid his
hands inside her shirtwaist and slipped it aside, gazing at her
modestly covered torso, his eyes hot with desire. Mari figured she
ought to be shy, but she wasn’t. She loved the way he looked at
her; she’d never even imagined she could stir Tony Ewing to lust.
It seemed so incongruous.

“You’re a beautiful woman, Mari.”

There he went again, calling her beautiful.
She liked it. A lot. She didn’t respond in words because she didn’t
know which ones to use. Instead, she closed her eyes and let her
body take over and do what it wanted to do. She was tired of
thinking all the time.

He leaned toward her and pressed his lips to
her naked flesh, on that little dip between her neck and her
shoulder, and she darned near fainted. When he feathered warm
kisses across her shoulder and down to her chest, she uttered a low
moan that meant nothing but pleasure.

“Don’t be afraid, Mari,” Tony whispered
raggedly. And he slipped her shirtwaist from her shoulders until it
puddled around her hips.

“I’m not afraid.” And she wasn’t. How
strange.

“I’m going to take your shoes off.”

“All right.”

In a trice, he was on his knees in front of
her, and Mari’s heart lurched. This pose was the same one he’d
adopted earlier in the day, and it still reminded her of
illustrations she’d seen of gentlemen proposing to ladies. Only
Tony’s proposal wasn’t the same as the ones proffered by those
fictional gentlemen. Her insides somersaulted once in a sickening
fashion before she squelched these most recent thoughts as
unproductive. She reminded herself that this might well be the only
chance in however long her life lasted to experience the act of
love with Tony Ewing. She wasn’t about to allow scruples to spoil
the experience.

Her footwear might have embarrassed her, had
she still been worried about the discrepancies in their relative
social situations. This evening, what society thought didn’t
matter. Mari decreed it so. Nothing would ruin her first—perhaps
her only—adventure with love.

“We have to get you some new shoes, Mari,”
Tony murmured as he pulled her right shoe off.

We do, do we
? Mari watched Tony
without speaking, even though she knew good and well her footwear
was her concern, not his. She was fully willing to make love to
Tony Ewing tonight, but she wouldn’t be a kept woman. Ever. She had
a mine to run.

Oh, Lord, there was the blasted mine again,
intruding, as it always did, into every aspect of her life.
Resolutely, she thrust the Marigold Mine into the corner of her
mind where her scruples lay huddled.

Tony was shaking his head now. “How long have
you had these stockings, Mari?”

She blinked down at his head. His hair looked
dark in the lantern light, although Mari knew it to be ash blond,
almost golden. He carefully rolled one of her stockings down her
right leg, then dangled it in front of her face, his mouth curled
in an impish grin. His eyes looked green now.

“I beg your pardon?” She’d forgotten his
question.

“How long have you had these? It looks as if
they’d been mended a million times.”

She grinned back at him, finding humor in the
situation instead of a reason to feel humiliated, which seemed a
step in the right direction. “They probably have. Stockings aren’t
the first thing I buy when I get money.”

“I should say not. We’ll have to remedy that
situation, too.”

“Tony . . .”

“Yes?” He glanced up from rolling down her
left stocking.

It had been on the tip of her tongue to tell
him she’d be no man’s mistress and that she’d buy her own shoes and
stockings in the future, thank you very much, but the words
wouldn’t come. A declaration of such a nature would put a damper on
the evening, and she wouldn’t make it. “Nothing.” He still gazed up
at her with that heart-stopping grin on his beautiful mouth, so she
said softly, “I like what you’re doing.”

His grin broadened into a smile “Good. I do,
too.”

He tossed the second stocking aside and
surprised Mari by lifting her feet, one at a time, and kissing
them. She hadn’t known people did such extraordinary things. How .
. . how . . . how stunningly sweet.

“I don’t want you to live in want anymore,
Mari,” he whispered as he gently lowered her feet to the rag carpet
once more.

That one was easy. “I don’t want me to,
either.” As if there was anything she could do about it. Still, she
gave him an answering smile.

“Good.”

Good? Whatever did that mean? Mari didn’t ask
for fear she wouldn’t like his answer.

He stood abruptly, and Mari found herself at
eye level with the front of his trousers, the fabric of which
bulged alarmingly. She swallowed, knowing what that extremely large
bulge meant.

“Be with you in a second,” Tony muttered as
he fumbled with his shirt buttons, He wore no collar or jacket in
deference to the heat of the day, and he made quick work of his
shirt, shucking it off in seconds.

Too disconcerted by that bulge to stare at
his trousers, Mari lifted her head and looked at his chest instead.
At the moment, it was covered with a cotton undershirt—oh. No, it
wasn’t. Not any longer. Tony had ripped the shirt over his head in
one graceful, shrugging gesture, and Mari got to see a man’s naked
chest for the very first time.

And what a chest it was. Covered with light
brown, curly hair, Tony’s chest was a work of art. When her gaze
slid sideways, and she inspected his arms, she swallowed again She
stared, rapt. “Merciful heavens, Tony, where did you get those
muscles?”

“I was on the rowing team in college. It’s
hard work, although it’s a pretty useless occupation compared to
most. I mean, we used our muscles to propel a sporting craft, not
do anything worthwhile with them.”

The results of plying those oars looked
worthwhile to Mari. “Um, I think sports are good for boys.” And if
all sports resulted in muscles like those, they were good for
girls, too, albeit in a different way.

But Tony shook his head. “Knowing you has
made me reevaluate everything I’ve ever believed about life.”

His words so shocked her that she left off
devouring his musculature with her greedy gaze, and her glance flew
to his face. He looked down at her with such warmth and tenderness,
Mari at once became skittish and let her gaze slip to the rag
rug.

“It’s true, Mari.” He unbuckled his belt,
then unbuttoned his trousers, and slid them down his legs. As Mari
gaped at his muscular thighs, he sat beside her and took her hands
in his. “I didn’t understand how frivolous my life was until I met
you.”

“Um, really?”

“Really. You made me ashamed of the way I
lived.”

That was so sweet. And so utterly ridiculous.
“Let’s not get carried away here, Tony. If I had a choice, I’d live
the way you do, believe me. Anyone would.”

He laughed and lifted her hands to his lips.
As soon as her flesh touched his, gooseflesh sprung up on her arms,
traveled across her torso, dimpled her nipples, and continued down
the rest of her body, until she felt as though she were one
massive, throbbing tingle.

“Of course, everyone wants money. Money’s
important. What I meant was that, until I met you, I didn’t know
what selflessness was. I’d never seen it in action before.”

“Oh.” Selflessness? Her? The word didn’t mean
a thing to Mari. She’d always only thought she was trying to
survive.

“Yes,” he said. “Oh, forget all that, and
come to me. Come here.”

Thank God he pulled her into his arms,
because Mar’s brain had started working again, and she knew better
than to trust it not to spoil everything. His kiss was more fervent
this time; harder, more insistent. Mari responded with gusto.

Little by little, he lowered her to the bed,
so that she lay on her back. She didn’t realize he’d been
skillfully undoing the ties to her camisole until the garment fell
away, leaving her bare bosom exposed to his avid gaze. She wasn’t
shocked. She knew she had nice, firm breasts. They weren’t massive;
thank God, but she believed they’d make a nice handful for Tony
Ewing.

He proved her correct in mere seconds. As his
hands cupped her breasts, Mari’s eyes slid shut. She reveled in the
sensation of his fingers caressing her sensitive nipples. When his
tongue flicked one nipple, she didn’t think she’d ever felt a more
exquisite marvel. Every cell in her body sang with pleasure.

Then he took her breast into his mouth and
Mari wasn’t sure she’d survive so much glory. The only way to bear
it was to use her own hands, so she did, exploring Tony’s hard body
with as much interest as he was investing in hers.

She’d not understood before how intensely
stimulating a man’s body could be. She’d never felt any inclination
to explore, say, Gordon Shay’s lumpy muscles and hairy arms. She
wanted to feel every inch of Tony’s smoother, more refined
musculature. And more besides.

She wanted to taste him, to nip parts of him,
to discover every nuance of his flesh.

Because her resolve not to allow her thoughts
to interfere with her pleasure was still locked in a corner of her
mind, she acted on her desire. Tony groaned with pleasure when she
found his nipples and tasted them as her hands explored his
marvelous chest.

Although Mari knew her body was slim, almost
sinewy, by modern standards, molded into strength by hard work
rather than into softness by feminine pursuits, Tony didn’t seem to
mind. His hands explored every nook and cranny of her naked flesh
with evident rapture. Which was all right by Mari. She was every
bit as enraptured by his body.

“You’re so soft, Mari. But you’re so damned
strong.”

Although she wasn’t sure she should ask, she
did it anyway. “Is that a good thing?”

He chuckled. “It’s a very good thing.”

“Oh. Good.” What a relief. When he’d spoken
of her strength, she’d feared he’d been put off by her lack of
womanly fleshiness.

“You’ve got a strong body and a strong mind.
You’re the perfect woman.”

Good God. Mari couldn’t believe he’d actually
said that, although she decided not to ask in case she was right.
It was much nicer to think he truly found her body attractive. And
stimulating.