Pale Moon Stalker (The Nymph Trilogy) (14 page)

"Horseless carriages?" Sky said, amazed by the image.

"Yes," Cass replied, warming to her topic as her husband rolled his eyes and said, "Don't get her started on that subject unless you plan to spend the night."

Everyone laughed good-naturedly when Cass launched into a description of the various experiments on the Continent to make a working internal combustion engine that could propel a carriage. By the time Kylie excused herself to escort her brothers up to bed, it was apparent to Sky that the Lorings had the same kind of relationship as Clint and Delilah.

Sky had always believed her brother and his wife were a unique pairing—a man willing to accept an independent woman as his equal in a business enterprise...and in marriage. Her relationship with Will had been one of mutual respect, but she had been a clergyman's wife. Her role was secondary to his and quite prescribed by convention. Even when she traveled to the capital to use her legal talents on behalf of her people, her husband had always accompanied her. His had been the advice legislators and judges weighed, even though the ideas were hers.

When Steve, Blackie and Max headed to the library for cigars and brandy, Cass said to Sky, "Would you care to join me while I take care of Victoria? Perhaps get a little practice in before you have a baby of your own?"

"That would be lovely," Sky said woodenly. Would there ever be children of her body for her to love? Max's children...

Cass led her up the stairs to the second-floor nursery adjoining the master bedroom. A buxom nurse held a tiny bundle with delicate pink arms waving as the infant cried lustily. "Ms. Vicki's gettin' a mite fussy fer her late night feedin', ma'am," the older woman said.

Cass introduced Sky to Lucinda Austin as she took her daughter. "I can see my little one is hungry, isn't she?" she cooed at the baby, then turned back to the nurse. "I'll change her and put her to bed when I've finished, Cinda. You get some rest yourself now."

"Don't'cha over do, now, ma'am." With that stern admonition, she nodded at them and left.

Cass sat down in a comfortable rocker beside the beautifully carved wooden crib, and motioned for Sky to use the large leather chair beside her. "That's Steve's chair. He likes to sit and talk with me while I perform motherly duties," she said with a soft smile, unfastening the buttons at the bodice of her gown.

Sky watched the baby nurse blissfully and felt a keen pang of envy. She so wanted children of her own. As if intuiting her thoughts, Cass said to her, "Max loves children. I can see you do, too..." She left the sentence hanging, her shrewd amber eyes sweeping over Sky's flushed face. When Sky made no reply, Cass said baldly, "You can tell me about your marriage if you wish. I sense something's not quite right, and I'm a sympathetic listener."

Somehow, Sky believed her. Why not tell her the truth that she dared not share with Delilah and Clint? "Our marriage isn't exactly conventional," she began haltingly.

"What marriage ever is? Especially if it's a good one," Cass replied.

Sky smiled bitterly. "You and your husband appear to have worked things out admirably, but our situation is quite different. I dragged him out of a saloon with a rifle jammed in his back..." She looked up at Cass expectantly, wondering how she'd receive that startling pronouncement.

Cass threw back her head and laughed. "You got the drop on the Limey? Lord, I wish I could have seen that!" Upset by her mother's sudden shift in position, the baby fussed until Cass soothed her by caressing the cap of pale copper hair on her head.

Sky swallowed hard and pushed ahead. "I offered him a deal. Then he made me a counteroffer. We agreed upon a marriage of convenience so we could both achieve our goals."

"Well, at least Max had a vote. Steve didn't. I bought him for three hundred dollars, two cans of peaches and a bottle of tangle leg whiskey." At Sky's startled look, Cass elaborated. "I sent Kyle Hunnicut, a gunman friend of mine, to pick him out of a tumbleweed wagon. Steve was bound for Fort Sill. He had two choices—marry me, or hang."

Sky's jaw dropped. "But why..."

All the amusement faded from Cass' eyes. "My father's will dictated that I marry or lose everything to a distant cousin—a
male
cousin. Neither of them were very nice men."

As comprehension came, Sky was struck by the similarities in their situations. "You wanted a husband you could control."

Cass nodded, warmth once more returning to her eyes. "It didn't exactly work out that way," she replied dryly. "We had epic battles. I rather imagine you and Max will fight the same way. What were the terms of your propositions to each other?"

As Delilah would say, trust your gut and bet everything if it feels right. Sky metaphorically shoved the whole pile of chips across the table. "I wanted him to kill a man for me. He needed a wife to claim his inheritance." She waited for a shocked reaction, but received nothing more than Cass' patient nod, urging her to elaborate. "My hus—my first husband was an Episcopal priest on our reservation. A piece of scum shot him in the back, then walked away from the trial because Will was an Indian lover."

"And Will made you swear you wouldn't kill his murderer," Cass said softly.

Sky's breath hitched. "How did you know? Max figured it out, too, but it took him a bit longer."

"He's a man," Cass replied, as if that explained everything. "But he's lonely and very lost, I think," she said softly, studying Sky. "Would you hold her while I fasten my dress?" She offered the baby.

Trembling, Sky took the wee one. During the years she and Will were married, she had ached to hold her own baby this way, but always, it was another woman's offspring. "Do you really think Max would want a family?"

"Yes, I do. It's obvious the two of you strike sparks off each other, but because of the way you married, things aren't right. Give it time, Sky. Once you see justice done for your first husband, put the past behind you and begin again with Max."

"Do you know why he came to America? Became a bounty hunter?" Sky asked.

Cass shook her head. "There are some dark secrets a man will only share with the woman he loves. He'll tell you...when the time is right."

Chapter Seven

There are some dark secrets a man will only share with the woman he loves...when the time is right.

Cass' words rang in Sky's mind as she rode by Max's side in the carriage back to their hotel. Did she dare ask him? No, it would have to be his decision, as Cass had said, when he felt the time was right. If only she knew what he had started to say before Steve knocked on the door. Could she ask him that? Sky glanced furtively at her husband as they passed beneath Denver's bright streetlights.

He appeared preoccupied, gazing outside the carriage window, seeing nothing. Was he rehearsing a speech for her? Her throat suddenly felt bone-dry. She cleared it, then blurted, "The Lorings are a wonderful family." No, that was not what she'd intended to say, but it was what came out.

"So are the Danielses. But for pure devilment, I'd bet on Rob over Billy and Padrick combined," he said with a grin. Then his expression sobered as he studied the play of light and shadow on her beautiful face. "What did you and Cass plot while the men were innocently smoking and drinking brandy?" He had a feeling Cass had caught on to their subterfuge. Perhaps Delilah Daniels had as well. Bloody hell, this was getting complicated!

"You were going to ask me a question just as Steve interrupted us this afternoon," she murmured, forcing herself to meet his eyes.

"So I was," he replied, stroking his chin contemplatively. "You made a handsome apology, Sky. Did you truly mean it?"

"Of course," she said reflexively.

"I know I'm no paragon of virtue. And I admit I never intended to marry or take on the responsibility of a family...but now that we are married, I find myself willing to risk it. Would you?" His eyes held hers. When she did not answer immediately, he asked, "Or are you still bound to memories of a better man?"

Sky struggled to breathe. Would she always be haunted by Will? Or was it simply that Max was such a different man—a difficult man? "I...I don't know, Max," she replied at length. "You and Will are nothing alike—but that does not make him a 'better man.' You live by a different code. He was a clergyman. You were a soldier. But they're both honorable professions."

Max winced. "Yes, I was a soldier, right enough," he said grimly.

"Whatever happened then is just as much in the past as what happened to Will. You were the one who told me we had to go on living."

A faint, haunted smile flitted across his face, then vanished. "Does that mean you'd give up your quest to see Deuce dead?" He heard her breath hitch and knew he'd struck a nerve. "Ah, I thought so. Ever the bloodthirsty avenger. Must be the Sioux in you, tiny bit that it is."

If he intended to hurt her as she'd hurt him, it worked. In white society, people such as the Danielses and the Lorings were rare. Sky had spent her life in cultural confusion, enduring prejudices from both sides of the racial divide. Will had bridged that gap with his gentle love, but now he was dead, in part because of her. "I want justice for Will. Then he can rest in peace. Maybe once Deuce is dead, I'll have some peace of my own. You intended to kill him anyway, once you'd thwarted Cletus. You have what you want, Max. I don't."

"Fair enough. I'll give you what you want, Sky." There was a tightness in his voice as he leaned over and took her hand in his, pulling her into his embrace. Sky did not resist when his mouth slowly lowered over hers. The thick black fans of her lashes swept down. He could not read what was in those huge blue eyes, but her body's response was clear and strong.

Sky felt his lips, hot and seeking, pressing against hers, his tongue demanding she open for him. She complied eagerly. Her hand moved up, burying her fingers in his pale hair, pulling him closer as he cupped her breast through the heavy fabric of her gown. Then that swift, clever gunman's hand insinuated itself inside the low-cut bodice, teasing one nipple, then the other until she whimpered unintelligibly against his mouth.

Her free hand returned the favor, sliding between his shirt studs, palm splaying against his chest. His heartbeat accelerated just as hers did. They were scant moments from losing all control when the carriage abruptly slowed as they neared the hotel. Max raised his head, breathing heavily as his glowing green eyes stared into her blue ones.

"Best to repair yourself, love," he said in a hoarse voice. He scooped up two emerald shirt studs from the seat cushion and placed them casually in his pocket, then reached up and smoothed the bodice of her gown, covering her breasts once more.

Sky could feel the pins in her hair digging into her scalp and knew the heavy crown of braids was badly askew. Nothing for it but to pull the whole thing loose. With the flick of several pins, the two heavy plaits fell below her shoulders. She was grateful when Max covered her and the loose braids with her cloak, securing the tie at her throat with trembling hands.

He helped her from the carriage, handing the driver a generous amount of cash, then took her arm and whisked her through the door and toward the stairs. In moments he was sliding a key into the lock of his bedroom door. When he swung it open, Sky realized this was not the sitting room. Before she could say anything, he scooped her into his arms and kicked the door closed behind him.

When he let her body slide down the length of his own, still holding her tightly, they stood beside his large bed. "Shall we continue where we left off, love?" he asked as he unfastened her cloak and let it drift to the floor.

Sky clung to him, speechless. All she could do was nod, then bury her head against the hardness of his chest. She felt his hands unplaiting her hair until it fell loosely down her back. Quickly, he turned his attention to the button loops at the back of her gown, unfastening them with surprising deftness, considering how labored his breathing was. His fingers were warm against her flesh as he lightly grazed the delicate vertebrae, sending frissons of pleasure humming through her.

Seemingly of their own volition, her hands began to slip the remaining studs from his shirt and cuffs, stuffing them clumsily into his coat pocket as he had done back in the carriage.
This is what you want. Don't deny it.
The relentless voice inside her head repeated the litany as she slid both jacket and shirt from his broad shoulders. He obliged her by swiftly yanking them off and tossing them behind him.

The drapes had been drawn closed, bedcovers turned back and the lights dimmed. All Sky could see was the glistening pale flesh of his chest and shoulders. Her fingers sank into the silver-gilt hair on his chest, tracing the cunning pattern as it narrowed at the waistband of his pants. She hesitated for a moment, but then he thrust his pelvis against her belly and she could feel the hardness of his erection.

"Do it, Sky," he commanded harshly.

She fumbled with the belt buckle and buttons of his fly, freeing his staff. Just as her hands glided over it, eliciting an oath of pleasure from him, her heavy gown fell around her waist. Already he had her chemise straps down and her breasts free. His head bent to suckle one and she arched her back, offering herself to his hot, seeking mouth. After giving each nipple a tingling tug of pure bliss, his lips swept up to her collarbone, then pressed soft, wet kisses on her throat. She rubbed her aching nipples against his chest, crying, "Yes, oh, yes!"