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Authors: Donna Fletcher

Tags: #Historical Romance, #19th century

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BOOK: Rebellious Bride
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Lil arched one brow and folded her arms across her chest. “Are you suggesting I arranged to be caught in your bed so as to force you to marry me?”

“The thought has crossed my mind.” And it had on occasion throughout the day. He had dismissed it as improbable, but the idea had lingered. Why he had mentioned it to her, he had no idea.

“Why in heaven’s name would I want to marry
you?

Rolfe looked at her oddly. “For my wealth? My title? My respectability? Take your pick.”

Lil felt insulted. “Those things are important to you, not to me.”

“Then what brought you to my bed?”

“I never sought
your
bed. I sought
a
bed. I was exhausted from tending to Bibi. I didn’t wish to be mistaken for one of the saloon girls by occupying a bed on the second floor so I chose the room downstairs. The one I thought was unoccupied.”

Rolfe found her story incredible. If she spoke the truth this whole situation was actually nothing more than an unfortunate mistake. She had not sought him out. The thought pricked his pride.

His confused look surprised her. “You actually thought I wished to... to—”

“Make love with me?” Rolfe spoke the words with deliberate emphasis. He meant to embarrass her, and he succeeded.

Lil fumbled over her words. “I... I never—never entertained such an idea.” Her cheeks reddened as she recalled pressing her lips against his chest. Warm. Hard...

Rolfe watched the color rise in her cheeks, and he smiled playfully. “Never? The thought
never
crossed your mind? Not even when you intimately cared for me while I was nearly naked? Not even when your fingers tenderly removed the stitches from my leg? Not even when your lips eagerly kissed my chest and your naked legs tightly hugged mine? Your thoughts never once centered on how it would feel for us to make love?” He looked at her accusingly. “Deny your feelings, Lillian. Tell me that you never once considered what it would be like to have me touch you intimately.”

Lil wanted to scream her denial at him, but that was impossible. It was also impossible for her to admit to dreams that were personal, meant only for the private recesses of her mind. Late at night she had lain in bed and fantasized about her future husband and what it would be like when they made love. Recently, since Rolfe had come to town, his face had intruded on those dreams. She chewed on her lower lip as though fighting back her answer.

“Lillian.” His voice was gentle. “Look at me.”

She raised her head, her chin lifting defensively, but her green eyes were uneasy in their confusion.

“You cannot deny your feelings, can you?” His words were not spoken with malice or joy. They were as simple and direct as he wished her answer to be.

“No, I cannot,” she answered honestly.

“Supper is ready, sir,” Jonathan said from the doorway.

Lil had never been more grateful for an interruption. She silently thanked Jonathan a hundred times over, though she knew the subject would come up again. Under what circumstances she wasn’t certain.

Rolfe walked over to her and extended his hand. “I am sure you will find Jonathan’s culinary efforts well worth the wait.”

Lil stood and took his offered arm. “I’m sure I will.”

Supper was a pleasant affair. Rolfe kept the conversation light. The food, as he had predicted, was wonderful. By the time tea and coffee were served, Lil found herself not only pleasingly stuffed, but extremely sleepy.

“The day has been long and tiring,” Rolfe said, standing. “May I see you to your room?”

His gentlemanly manners could irritate at times and other times they could make Lil feel so much a woman. ‘‘I would appreciate it,” she answered softly and stood to once again take his arm.

Rolfe escorted her to her room, opening the door, but not stepping inside. “Our rooms connect. You have only to enter my room if any need should arise.”

Lil nodded, finding words difficult. She understood his unspoken message perfectly. If she chose to make love with him, he would be more than willing. The choice was hers.

She turned away from him, not trusting herself or the nagging tremors in the pit of her stomach. He gently grasped her arm and turned her back around. She reluctantly looked up at him.

He drew her closer to him. His blue eyes, so clear with purpose, held her spellbound. He was going to kiss her. She had no doubt he would. She had no doubt that she wanted him to.

Rolfe lifted her chin but a fraction and lowered his head. “I’ve ached to kiss you all evening, Lillian.”

She closed her eyes and raised herself on her toes as his lips covered hers. It was more than she expected. Much more. He tasted, explored, and sent her emotions spiraling.

He cupped her face and deepened the kiss, sending her body messages that demanded responses. When she thought she could breathe no more, he slowly released her lips. He kissed her eyelids, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and once again her lips.

Rolfe stepped back, away from Lillian. “Good night, Lady Sherborn.” He bowed ever so slightly and walked to his door, a few feet from hers, and disappeared inside.

Lil moved back, closed her door, and collapsed slowly against it. Her heart thumped, her belly fluttered, and the area between her legs tingled. This heightened sexuality was foreign to her, and the ache to see it through to completion was unbearable.

She eyed the door that separated her room from his. No locks or keys. It would open with a turn of the knob. She closed her eyes, fighting against the temptation of running over and turning it.

“I’m not ready for this,” she argued with herself.

She ran over to the chest of drawers and pulled out her nightgown. Hurrying, she undressed, slipped the pink cotton shift on, and quickly climbed into bed, pulling the covers up to her neck and thinking of burying herself completely beneath them.

She turned her back on the tempting door and on what her body ached for most... to make love with Lord Sherborn.

Chapter 9

“Where is she now?” Rolfe asked exasperated. Three days married and keeping tabs on his wife was like trying to corner a sly fox.

“In her room,” Jonathan answered. “I’ve prepared a bath. She appears exhausted.”

“Up since before dawn, gone all day, treating God knows who...” Rolfe slammed his fist against the corral post. “Bloody hell, but she’s trying my patience.”

“She’s quite different from the English ladies, my lord,” Jonathan offered with a surprising smile and a sharp nod.

“You speak as though boasting. You admire this willful trait of hers?”

“Her strength and conviction deserve admiration. Not many women possess such praiseworthy traits.”

“And her blatant refusal to obey me?”

Jonathan shrugged indifferently. “I don’t think she views it as disobedience.”

Rolfe nodded his head slowly. “I daresay you’re right. She honestly sees nothing wrong with her behavior. I assumed dealing with her would be easy.” He glanced at the corral and the horses being broken. It was simpler to break in a mare than to cope with his wife. Lillian’s spirit had proved to be much more independent and free.

“Go easy with her!” Rolfe shouted at a young cowhand who was roughly handling a chestnut mare, one of Rolfe’s favorites. One he had broken in himself. He shook his head and hoisted himself over the fence rails, heading for the cowhand.

Lil watched from her window. Rolfe didn’t look or act the English nobleman at all. He blended in with the cowhands in his tight denims and blue shirt, though he stood a head taller than most of them.

He wasn’t what he appeared to be.
That thought had plagued her often. Lately she had watched him when he wasn’t aware of it, as she was doing now. Rolfe’s hand was gentle on the mare’s cheek. His words were obviously soft and cajoling, since the mare nuzzled him. He was no novice with horses or with other matters pertaining to running a cattle ranch.

She had caught glimpses of him on occasion when he was dealing with his ranch foreman and issuing orders. Knowledgeable orders. It had made her wonder if she truly knew the man she had married.

She admitted to herself that it was on purpose that she had kept her distance from Rolfe these last few days. She needed time to collect her thoughts on this marriage. They really knew little of each other, yet here they were husband and wife for the remainder of their days. Oh, she knew he was stubborn and dictatorial, but what about his likes and dislikes? What did he find attractive in a woman? Did he like children? Did he have siblings of his own? He was as much a stranger to her as she was to him, yet she felt an inexplicable closeness to him. It was an odd, disturbing thought.

A yawn came upon her, and she covered her mouth. Too little sleep, she told herself. Too many people to tend to, due to a rash of end-of-summer ailments—insect bites, earaches from lazy days of endless swimming, stomach upsets from overindulgence when picnicking, broken arms, splinters, infections; the list went on and on. Then there were the new pregnancies, the babies that would arrive with the spring blossoms, and all the women suddenly insisted that Lil treat them. News traveled fast in Little. The whole town was abuzz with the story of how she had saved the young saloon girl from death’s door. That was enough to convince every expectant mother that she was a savior, and when their time came, they wanted Lil beside them.

Doc had teased her at first. Then in his usual fashion he had placed his arm around her, squeezed her, and told her she had done good—real good. The compliment was simple, but to Lil it was the highest award imaginable. Doc had confidence in her. He had even asked her advice about Dora Williams, a young woman who was having some difficulty with her first pregnancy.

Another yawn surfaced, and Lil stretched her arms upward, loosening the towel she’d wrapped around her chest. She grabbed for it and tucked the end back in over her left breast. Her body vehemently protested her lack of sleep.

She looked at the bed, so soft and welcoming, but it was early afternoon, too soon for bed. She wasn’t ordinarily one to nap, but a few minutes’ sleep wouldn’t hurt. It would probably revive her.

She reached for her brush on the vanity and ran it through her nearly dry hair.

“I’m surprised you saw fit to come home so early.”

Dazed with drowsiness and thinking Rolfe’s voice had come from outside, Lil looked toward the window at first, then shook her head and turned to see him standing in the doorway that connected their rooms. He looked like a rough-and-ready cowboy, and his tempting appearance made her tummy tingle. “I finished for the day,” she said, ignoring his disgruntled manner.

“No emergencies to run off to?” he asked, drifting into the room.

Lil shrugged. “None. All appears quiet in Little.”

“You’ve healed everyone?”

His question struck her comically, and being so tired she laughed. “I wish. Stomachaches constantly return, especially in children, as do earaches from too many dunks in the pond. And then there are the new pregnancies. It appears that I am in demand as a midwife.”

Rolfe smiled contentedly or carnally—he wasn’t certain which. It pleased him to hear she had obeyed his request and was treating only women. But he wasn’t pleased by her appearance. He was enraptured by her near state of undress. That she hadn’t realized how inviting she appeared to him made her all the more enthralling to his senses. “I’m glad you’re finally home.”

Her eyes closed lazily and she licked her lips, leaving a fine sheen of wetness over them before opening her eyes once again. “So am I. I could think of nothing more pleasing than Jonathan’s refreshing lemonade and the coolness of this room on such a warm day.”

Rolfe was piqued. Lemonade and her room, not one mention of him. He moved to protest his exclusion when he sighted the slump of her shoulders and the weariness in her eyes. Exhaustion was about to overtake her.

Lil attempted to stifle a yawn. It broke loose anyway.

“You’re tired,” Rolfe said, standing in front of her.

She wondered when he had moved in so close. Only moments ago he’d been across the room, and now... She shrugged, suddenly not caring. She was so sleepy. She placed her cheek against his blue shirt. It was toasted warm from the sun, and his scent was of fresh earth and clean air. She snuggled her face against the pleasant scent.

Rolfe stiffened at first, her intimate action jolting him. Then he relaxed, understanding she sought comfort. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her closer. No protest came from her. He rubbed her lower back, gently at first. When she moaned in satisfaction he added pressure, his fingers kneading the small of her back.

“That feels good,” she said, her voice muffled against his shirt.

“You’re working too hard,” he scolded, his concerned tone in sharp contrast to his reprimand.

“I tend to do that... work hard,” she agreed, leaning against him as his strong hands pressed her closer to him.

“Then as your husband I will make certain that you don’t.”

Lil laughed, a surprise to Rolfe. “You mean you’ll tend to me while I tend to everyone else.”

“I’ll
tend
to you, Lillian.”

His voice was suddenly deeper, more intense, and more protective. His arms around her felt tighter and she sank deeper into the comfort of him.

“I’m so tired, Rolfe,” she whispered as though he had the power to ease her weariness.

Rolfe’s emotions raged like a flooding river. She felt so right in his arms. He wanted to ease the towel from around her, carry her to the bed, and join her in every way possible. But what she sought wasn’t physical. She was reaching out to him emotionally and though his body protested, his mind rejoiced. She was, in essence trusting him.

He lifted her in his arms; the towel loosened and fell open, giving him a faint peek at her breast. He took a deep breath when he placed her on the bed and quickly, with the brush of his thumb across her firm breast, tucked in the towel.

Lillian’s eyes were closed, her breathing steady. She was already in a satisfied slumber. He looked down over her. Her breasts were full, stretching the material of the towel. Her stomach was flat. Her hips, beneath the thick cotton towel, appeared nicely rounded. Her legs were slim and firm. He wished the towel didn’t cover her so perfectly. He would have liked to peek at more of her. He was her husband. He could remove the towel if he so desired. But that didn’t seem right. He wanted her fully awake when he first glanced upon her nakedness.

BOOK: Rebellious Bride
12.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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