Texas Pride: Night Riders (21 page)

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Authors: Leigh Greenwood

BOOK: Texas Pride: Night Riders
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“But I must return to Poland.”

“You could be going to Egypt or China. It wouldn’t make any difference.
You
fell in love with
me
even though you know you weren’t going to stay. Why?”

Ivan hung his head. “I could not help myself.”

Carla took his right hand and clasped it tightly. “No matter what happens, I’m glad we love each other. It would be terrible if I loved you, but you didn’t love me in return. I don’t think I could stand it.”

Ivan took her hands in his. “I love you more than I thought possible. Never can I love anyone else this way.”

“I can’t, either.”

Ivan’s gaze bored into her. “But you must. You must marry. You must have children.”

“How can I marry another man when the only children I want are yours?” She hadn’t meant to say such a thing. She hadn’t even thought it until the words popped out of her mouth. Yet she knew it was the truth. She would never marry Kesney, certainly not Maxwell Dodge.

Ivan gripped her by the shoulders, his face a study in love wrapped in agony. “You must marry. Myrtle insists on it.”

“Myrtle thinks I should marry you.”

“To do that, you would have to go to Poland with me.”

It was painful to see him twisting in the grip of two loves he believed were mutually exclusive. She didn’t know all the ties that held him to Poland—she doubted she could have understood them if she had—but she knew they were so important he was suffering from being caught between them and his love for her. She couldn’t stand seeing him suffer. She locked her gaze with his. “That’s not impossible.”

Ivan seemed to turn rigid. “What are you saying?”

She hesitated. It would be cruel to raise his hopes if she couldn’t honestly consider going to Poland. She didn’t want to think of what her life would be like, but she couldn’t imagine life without him. “I can’t imagine living in Poland, but I can’t refuse to consider the possibility.”

“To be a Polish wife is wrong for you.”

“Why is it so wrong?” She was sure she wouldn’t like it, but why was Ivan so emphatic that she shouldn’t even consider it?

“The wife of a prince, even a poor one, must follow many rules. She can have no money except what her husband gives her. She can have no opinions that do not agree with his. She must see to his comfort, have his children, and on no account do anything that would bring dishonor on his name.”

“It wouldn’t be that bad if I was married to you.”

“There is more. You cannot go out without someone from the family to accompany you. If you ride at all, it can never be faster than a canter. You cannot leave the house or see visitors from the time you know you are expecting a baby until months afterward. You will rarely see your children. They will be cared for by servants. About the only decisions you will make for yourself are what we will eat and what you will wear. You would have none of the freedom you have here.”

Carla had tried to tell herself things wouldn’t be as bad as that Polish woman had told her. Now Ivan was telling her they would be worse. “You wouldn’t hem me in like that. I know you wouldn’t.”

“The worst would be how others would treat you, even my mother and sisters. You are not Polish. You were not born into their class. In their eyes, I might as well have married a peasant.”

Carla was shocked by the crushing weight of disappointment that hit her like a physical blow. By allowing herself to believe there was a way to work things out, she’d let herself be swallowed up by her love for Ivan. She’d given in to it with all the abandon of a woman who’d never known love and had unexpectedly stumbled on it in its purest form. She hadn’t merely accepted love. She’d run toward it, embraced it, had developed a thirst for it, which could never be quenched.

Now Fate seemed poised to take it away from her, but she couldn’t let go. Not yet. Not then. She would hold on longer. She didn’t know how long that would be, but it would be as long as she could. If Fate had decreed her time with Ivan would be brief, then she would savor everything love had to offer. It would have to last her for the rest of her life. As soon as the resolve formed in her mind, she knew that’s what she wanted. She looked up into Ivan’s eyes.

“Will you make love to me?”

Chapter 19

All expression faded from Ivan’s face. His body seemed to stiffen, to withdraw from her, even though he didn’t move so much as a muscle.

“Do you know what you are asking?” he finally managed to say.

Carla swallowed her doubts. “Yes.”

“To do what you ask could make you believe in promises I cannot make.”

Carla took both his hands and clasped them to her bosom. “I understand why you must return to Poland. It is your family, your home, your heritage. I understand,” she said when he started to protest, “because I feel that way about this country, Texas, and Danny. But I’ve come to realize I love you more. I know it won’t be easy, but I want to be with you. Always. I don’t see why I can’t go to Poland with you. Danny can have my half of the ranch so he won’t have to work for someone else.”

“You do not know what you will be up against.”

“You didn’t know what you would face when you left Poland, but you learned first to be a soldier then a cowhand.”

“It is easier for a man.”

She wasn’t going to let him undervalue his accomplishment. “It couldn’t have been easy, especially when you didn’t know English.” She laughed. “I’ve seen you look puzzled at some of the things we say, but you figure it out and keep going. I can do that as long as you’re there to help me.”

“Women are not treated the same in Poland as they are in this country.”

“We’re not treated especially well here. Being unmarried at my age practically shouts there’s something wrong with me and no man will have me. I might as well level at the moon as try to convince the men in Overlin I know as much about running a ranch as they do.” Ivan tried to pull away, but she wouldn’t let him. “I love you. I want to be with you because I can’t stand the thought of having you for a year then having to say good-bye. It would drive me crazy.”

Ivan tore his hand from her tight grip and wrapped her in a fierce embrace. He was losing ground in his battle to stifle the need that was roaring through him like a brush fire consuming dry tender. He’d dreamed of making love to Carla so many times he could almost feel it happening. Standing with his arms around her, her body pressed against his, made it almost impossible to think of anything else.

“You are a strong woman,” he said. “You can endure anything.”

Carla looked up at him. “What’s the use of enduring misery if you don’t have to?”

Ivan had tried to block the thought of a future without Carla from his mind. He’d fallen into the habit of telling himself he had almost a year to spend with her, that he wouldn’t have to worry about figuring out how to leave her until then. He knew that was cowardly, that he should have kept his emotional distance, but it had been impossible to ignore his feelings. Now she had solved the whole problem by promising to go to Poland with him.

Somewhere in the back of his head a voice whispered that her love was stronger than his, that he should have been the one to turn his back on his country. But that voice was swept away by the impact of Carla’s decision. He had thought it was impossible to love her more, but now he knew he was wrong.

“Everything I know about life in Poland pushes on me to urge you to change your mind, but the thought of leaving you has been haunting me. You will face many hardships.”

“We will face them together.”

He knew it wouldn’t be that easy, but he let himself be overborne by her enthusiasm. What if she was right, and he lost the chance to spend his life with her? The thought was too terrible to contemplate. “How will Danny manage the ranch without you?”

She put her finger over his lips to stop his words. “We have plenty of time to figure that out. All we have to think about now is us.”

It was easy to give in because it was what he wanted to do. For the first time he could think of his love without the threat of separation hanging over his head. He could think of making love to her without feeling guilt or remorse. She would be his wife. They would be married here then married again when they reached Poland. He would convince his sister to throw a lavish celebration. After all, he was a prince, the titular head of the family. His mother and sisters would be there. Aunts, uncles, cousins, friends from childhood, and friends of the family. It would be a huge celebration that would last for days during which everybody would come to love Carla as much for her character as for her beauty. A few might be slow to accept her, but with the family standing behind him, their objections would soon be swept away.

“Are you sure you can leave Texas?”

“I don’t want to, but I can be happy as long as I’m with you. Besides, how many Texas girls get to be a princess?”

He could see the doubt in the back of her eyes, but he could also see the courage which she would depend on to carry her through the rough times that undoubtedly lay ahead. He marveled that it was possible to love someone as much as he loved Carla. What he felt twelve years ago was only a fraction of the love that flowed from him in ever increasing waves. He was the luckiest man in the world.

“Stop worrying,” Carla said, “and kiss me. I’m starting to wonder if you love me as much as you say you do.”

Ivan had undertaken many tasks in his life, but he had committed to none more readily than convincing Carla his love for her reached well beyond her expectations.

Their first kisses were driven by such heat, such passionate need for each other, that Ivan feared he would bruise her lips. When he tried to ease back, Carla clasped both hands behind his head, trapping him in a kiss so fiery he didn’t understand why they weren’t scorched by it. He loved the feel of her mouth against his. It was so soft, yet so firm. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her. He relegated the kisses in his past to mere touching of the lips, the embraces to languid entanglements. Everything was familiar, but nothing was the same.

Carla broke the kiss, leaned back so she could look into his eyes. “Why haven’t you kissed me like this before?”

“I did not let myself for fear I would not be able to leave when the time came.”

“I want you to kiss me the way you’ve always wanted to kiss me.”

Ivan had dreamed of a thousand ways to kiss Carla, far too many to fit into a single evening. He wanted to smother her mouth in wild kisses. He wanted to tease it with a soft brushing of the lips. He wanted to explore every part of her mouth, to taste its sweetness, to linger over her lower lip, to tease her upper lip with the tip of his tongue.

He could have spent hours seeking new ways to kiss her if the awareness of her body pressing hard against his own hadn’t diverted his thoughts. He was so swollen with desire it was impossible for Carla to be unaware of it, yet she didn’t pull back or stiffen with surprise. It seemed, instead, to fuel the fire burning within her. Her kisses grew more insistent. She pressed against him as though trying to get inside his skin.

Almost without being aware of it, Ivan’s fingers started unbuttoning the back of Carla’s dress. She continued to scatter kisses over his face as though she wanted to map its surface. Realizing he’d passed the point of no return, Ivan swept Carla up in his arms and headed for her bedroom.

Carla felt a surge of triumph when Ivan carried her to her bedroom. She had been afraid his rigid code of behavior might force him to change his mind. It was a testament to how much he needed her that he could sweep aside all his reservations. She had trembled at the feel of his fingers on her back as he worked the buttons loose, but that was only a prelude to the euphoria when he swept her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom as though her weight was a mere bagatelle. His strength acted on her as an aphrodisiac. She gloried in the power of his arms, the breadth of his shoulders, the sheer size of him. He could employ the charm of a high bred nobleman when he chose, but tonight he was in the toils of a need that was as old as man himself, a need that took no cognizance of social station or heritage.

He was just a man who desperately needed to make love to the woman he loved.

Ivan set her on her feet with great tenderness. The grey evening light coming through the window meant his expression was barely visible, but she didn’t need light to feel the warmth of his touch, to sense the heat that rolled off him in waves. She was so impatient to be fully against him, that she undid the last few buttons herself. A quick pull on the tie that held her chemise in place, and he was able to lay her shoulders open to the assault of his mouth and fingertips.

The touch of his lips on her bare skin sent so many shock waves arcing through her body that she could barely keep a thought in her head. Almost from the day she met Ivan, she had tried to imagine what it would be like to have him make love to her, but she had never thought it would be like this. She was losing control. Their need for each other had seized command of their minds and bodies. She offered no resistance when he slipped her dress and undergarments off her shoulders, allowed them to slide down her body and pool at her feet.

She felt awkward standing naked before him while he was still fully dressed. She reached out to undo the buttons of his shirt but forgot what she had started to do when he cupped her breasts with his hands. It felt like lightning was striking in a dozen different places at once. The storm grew more intense when he gently rubbed her nipples with his thumbs. It became a torrent when he bent down and took her nipple in his mouth. He teased it with his lips, his tongue, his teeth, until she was certain she would pass out. It was with a sense of relief that she sank down onto the bed.

“You have to undress, too,” she said when he started to join her.

He looked startled, so absorbed in making love to her he’d forgotten about himself. Once he wrestled his boots off, the rest of his clothes practically disappeared from his body. She might have been impressed at the speed with which he could undress if her first look at a naked male body in full erection hadn’t given birth to a tickle of fear. It was hard to believe he could fit inside her without pain.

Ivan lay down next to her and gathered her in his arms. “I will not hurt you.”

“I know.” But fear still lurked in the corners of her mind.

Ivan began rubbing her back as he kissed her lips. He made slow movements up the spine and massaged her shoulders before doing it all over again, murmuring softly in her ear. In Polish. She had no idea what he was saying, but she didn’t care. They sounded like the words of a man deeply in love, and that sounded wonderful even in Polish.

After a few moments, he turned his attention to her breasts once more. She was so caught up in what he was doing she almost failed to notice his hand had left her back and moved along her side to her hip and a little way along her leg before moving back to her hip. Once again his mouth on her breasts so distracted her that she didn’t realize he had parted her legs, until she felt him enter her with his hand.

As his fingers slowly moved inside her, she found herself responding to him, rising to meet him, falling away, and rising again. It was quite pleasant until he touched something inside her that made everything that preceded it pale in comparison. She heard herself cry out.

Ivan froze. “Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head. “Again,” she managed to whisper. “Please.”

Within moments she was in the grip of a feeling she would have had difficulty describing even if she hadn’t been too deeply in its toils to think at all. She felt she would rise right off the bed. She was sure she would explode. Any moment her brain would stop working altogether.

When she did explode, it was from a force so powerful she was certain she wouldn’t survive. How could she have anticipated anything like this? Before the waves had receded and the exploding lights faded to mere dots, Ivan rose above her. Before fear had a chance to settle in, he had entered her.

It seemed natural to move in rhythm with him. It wasn’t something she needed to think about. It just happened. Within minutes, the feeling that had washed over her moments ago returned. Wrapping its tentacles around her, it encompassed her so completely she was only vaguely aware that Ivan’s breath was beginning to come in snatches. Instinctively she clung to him, moved with him, breathed with him. Together they rode a wave that increased in power with each surge, ascended higher each time it broke over them, clasping them ever more firmly in its grasp. They approached the precipice only to retreat before plunging over. But each retreat was shorter, each advance bringing them closer to the edge until—with the feeling of having been propelled from a powerful gun—they catapulted over the edge and into the abyss.

The explosion was more powerful the second time, shattering in fireworks that were beyond description. It was hard to think, but she had to try. There was something she needed to acknowledge, to put into words, to remember. Then when she feared it was beyond her grasp, it suddenly became clear.

At last they were one.

***

Carla awoke with a delicious feeling of well-being. An overnight rain had lowered the temperature enough to make sleeping delightfully comfortable. The chill in the air coming through the open window felt good on her skin. She had never slept naked before, but with Ivan sharing her bed, she might never wear a nightgown again. It wasn’t until she stretched and felt an unusual tenderness that the events of the previous night came flooding back. She bolted upright. Ivan had made love to her. They’d gone to sleep wrapped in each other’s arms, but Ivan wasn’t in the bed, and his clothes were gone.

She laid back, a smile on her face. It worried her that she’d promised to go to Poland with him, but that was outweighed by the anticipation of spending the rest of her life as his wife. It wouldn’t be easy, but he’d be there to help her.

Streams of pale yellow light coming through the window told her it was well past time to be up. Ivan should have had his breakfast an hour ago. Throwing her legs over the side of the bed, she reached for her shift, which Ivan had placed over the chair next to the bed. A few minutes later, having dressed, washed her face, and combed her hair, she left her room.

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