Texas Rose TH2 (11 page)

He came quickly, immersing himself in multiple explosions that buried him deep within her heat. He accepted with relief the solace of this physical release and her hands braiding through his hair and refused to think of what he had done.

That would come on the morrow, when the beast was back in his cage again.

Chapter 8

Evie curled near the wall as far as she could get from the large man lying beside her. She had never thought Tyler particularly large until confronted with the obstacle of his body between herself and the door to safety. His bare shoulders loomed immense, blocking out all view of the room but the ceiling.

She was grateful he was turned away from her. She didn't think she could tolerate the sight of his broad chest without jumping out of her skin. Fantasy had met reality last night, and fantasy had lost. Stripped of the protective shelter of her dreamworld, Evie shivered in her nakedness.

The early morning sun cast a sliver of light across the log joists she could see above Tyler's arm. The light glimmered golden against the hair of his skin, but Evie tried to concentrate on what she had to do. Her mind was useless while she was totally aware of the naked man not inches away. She now had full awareness of the strength behind the deceptive suppleness of his lean frame. And she was terrified of what would happen should he turn over and use his powerful maleness against her once again.

She still ached from last night's encounter. There was an unpleasant stickiness between her legs where he had been, and the feeling of violation was strong. She despised him for what he had done, but she despised herself worse.

She had sworn this would never happen to her. Even though she had painted pretty pictures of her parents in her head, she knew what she was—a bastard. Everyone knew it. That was why she could never hold her head up in St. Louis society despite her wealth and looks. She had sworn never to allow a man to do to her what one had done to her mother. And now look at her.

Clenching her lips, Evie sought some means of escape. Because of her birth, she had studied the subject of bastards as carefully as it was possible for a gentle lady of means in society. She knew how children were created, and she fully meant to be married before she had any. She knew there were ways of preventing children and ways of getting rid of them. She knew very little about those ways, but common logic told her where to find the answer when she needed it. She prayed she wouldn't need it, but the chances were far better if she got out of Tyler's bed right now.

She tried to pull the quilt over her breasts as she sat up, but Tyler had it wrapped around his hips and was lying on it. She struggled to find her chemise in the tangled debris of the bedding, but he seemed to be lying on that, too. Her toes grazed his leg, and she jumped backward from the contact, but it was already too late.

He turned on his back and stared at her. Stricken, Evie couldn't look away from his eyes. They weren't amber any longer but a deep, festering brown that had none of the laughter and charm she associated with him. She couldn't look away even when she knew his gaze had dropped from her face to her breasts. She merely fought to pull up the quilt.

Glowering, Tyler jerked the quilt away, wrapped it around himself, and got up. Evie tugged the tangle of her petticoats back around her legs, but not before the motion exposed the dark stain marring the cotton. Still cursing, he tore away the sheet wall and threw it at her before stalking out.

Evie watched him go with a mixture of relief and disappointment that gave way to outrage. Keeping the sheet wrapped around her, she hobbled over to the hot ashes and the pot of water she had left hanging there. Thank goodness she'd had the forethought to set out water for their morning ablutions.

She scrubbed herself viciously with the old cake of lye soap she had found the night before, all the while contemplating with pleasure the image of Tyler washing in the icy cold well water. That should take some of the starch out of him.

She dressed hastily in fear of his return. It was obvious that whiskey and grief had been the influence the night before, but she couldn't be sure that he wouldn't decide to come back for more now that the damage was done. She was rather uncertain about how a man's mind functioned. Or his body. She knew men liked to look at her. She knew they often wanted to do more than look at her. But except for those few stolen kisses at times of excitement over other things, Tyler had done a very good job of ignoring her. She wasn't at all certain that he really desired her in the way a man does a woman.

And she had no wish to find out. She buttoned up her bodice waist as far as it would go despite the fact that the air was already warm. She dragged on all her petticoats and ignored her rumbling stomach.

She was just finishing fastening the buttons of her shoes when Tyler walked back in.

He had slicked back his hair with well water and donned fresh clothes from his saddlebags. He evidently didn't possess any of the colorful shirts Evie had seen on some of the men here in Texas. The one he wore now was of the same respectable white linen he wore in town, although he didn't bother fastening a collar or cravat to it. She tried to keep her gaze from straying to the tight crotch of his fawn-colored trousers, but she was aware of it, just the same. She pulled her skirt down farther and returned to buttoning her shoes.

"If you're ready, I've got the horses saddled."

Evie's head went up quickly, but she didn't say a word. What did one say to a man who had just taken one's innocence? Judging from Tyler's behavior, it wasn't "Good morning, darling." Her book reading and imagination failed her.

She followed him out to the brightness of a Texas morning and watched as he brought the two horses forward. The one she recognized as his, but the other wasn't the one Ben had ridden. She turned him a questioning glance.

"I reckon it belonged to one of the thieves. I found it wandering out by the road last night. You can ride, can't you?"

"No." She glanced again at the tall horse, the western saddle, and down to her gabardine traveling skirt with its heavy train draped over the bustle at her back. She knew what ladies wore when riding, and she was definitely not wearing it.

"Then you'll just have to sit in the saddle and hang on while I lead you. I don't have any idea how far away we are from civilization, but we'll get there faster on two horses."

Without waiting for argument, Tyler grasped her by the waist and deposited her in the saddle sideways. Even he could see the foolishness of trying to put her on properly in that getup. He tried not to think about how she would feel if she had to straddle a horse after last night. Her careful steps had raised his guilt to whole new levels.

When Tyler was certain she was grasping the horse's saddle and wouldn't fall off, he swung into his saddle and took her reins in hand.

Before they could leave, he had to say something. He'd been brought up right, even if he had fallen on evil days since then. Tyler turned around and gazed at Evie's haughty profile. She was doing her best not to look at him, and he had to smile at this response. Did she think ignoring him would make what happened go away? Knowing Evie, she probably did.

"When we find town, I'll look for a preacher. I'll make things right," he assured her.

Evie startled so badly that she nearly fell off her horse. Ignoring her reaction, he gathered up their reins and kicked his horse into motion.

"If that was a proposal, I refuse it," she replied steadfastly, her grip on the saddle left her knuckles white.

Tyler glanced back at her frozen face but as usual, he couldn't read the thoughts behind it. "Despite what you might think, my mother brought me up to be a gentleman. What I did last night was unforgivable, and I'm ready to pay the consequences. Marriage is the only way I can repay you for what I took away."

Evie compressed her lips until they almost turned as white as her knuckles. "I'll call myself Mrs. Peyton and say I'm a widow before I'll marry you, Tyler Monteigne."

"We'll see about that," he responded, turning his back on her and forcing the horses to a faster pace.

Relief swept through him that he wouldn't have to tie himself down with a wife and all the complications that ensued, but there was a certain amount of insult in her refusal. He wasn't used to women turning him down. Drunk as he'd been, he probably hadn't performed as he ought last night. She deserved better than to be the recipient of one of his worst rages. But aside from marrying her, he couldn't see any means of correcting the situation. From the sour look on her face, she certainly wouldn't be amenable to a little dalliance to show her his better talents.

Besides, she knew nothing of protecting herself, and he wasn't about to get himself caught up in that situation again. Remembering the child he had fathered when he was no more than a boy, Tyler set his jaw and proceeded onward without any further objection to her refusal. He had lost a child and a friend that last time. He'd stick to experienced women from now on.

They rode in silence except for the rumble of their empty stomachs. As the morning wore on, the sun beat mercilessly on their heads. Evie had lost her hat in yesterday's escape, but it had never been adequate for protection in the first place.

At some point, Tyler turned to check on her. A silent woman was an unnatural one in his experience. He could see the pink forming on her fair skin and cursed his own stupidity.

Stopping his horse, he waited until Evie's was beside him, then removed his hat and set it on her head. She had not attempted her usual fashionable coiffure but wore her hair in a loose chignon at the back of her neck. The hat slid over her forehead and down to the chignon, but it shaded her face.

Evie tried to give him a haughty look, but the desperation of their situation kept her from succeeding. Trying not to sound pitiful, she asked, "Do you think it is much farther?"

"Can't rightly say, but if there isn't a town soon, there's bound to be a way station where we can inquire. I need to find you a hat that fits better. That looks kind of cute on you."

Evie attempted a stiff smile and tilted the Stetson to a jaunty angle. "I suspect it looks better on you, but thank you."

Tyler felt a jolt of something electric at her bravado and quickly kicked his horse back into motion. Most women would have harangued him until he died for what he had done and was doing. He could imagine Bessie's endless complaints about the dust, the horse, the lack of food, the sun, the destruction of her clothing, and that without even the insult of the night before. Yet this female sat there looking beautiful and brave without a word against him. He didn't want to admire her. He didn't even want to like her. But he damned well wanted her in his bed again.

That was a puzzle he would have to work on. He'd liked Bessie and all the other women in his life well enough as long as they kept their places to his bed and nothing more. But Evie was a liar he couldn't trust for ten seconds, and a rebellious nuisance who demanded his entire attention. He couldn't like her, but he had bedded her.

Well, he would get her to Mineral Springs and leave her and not concern himself any longer. Except now that Ben was gone, he really had no place to go. Ben would have wanted to return to Natchez, but Tyler had no desire to return to the place of his humiliation and defeat. The card game had only offered slight revenge but hadn't changed anything. And there was still the matter of what he had done to Evie. If a child came of it, he wanted to know. He wasn't sending any more women out into this world carrying his bastard.

By the time the buildings of Mineral Springs wavered into view, Tyler was resigned to spending some time there. Waves of heat made the town into an oasis amid the desert, but as they rode on, Tyler could see the river running on the far side that provided the reason for the town's existence. It wasn't a bad-size little town, he admitted grudgingly as they rode closer. And it certainly couldn't be much worse than Under-the-Hill

"Would you like your hat back?" Evie called from behind him.

Tyler watched hope light her sunburned face as she scanned the town ahead. He still didn't know why in hell she wanted to come here, but just one look at her right now belied the story of a lost sister and her rotten husband.

"I like the outfit just the way it is," he told her. "Stay out here very long and you'll make a great lady cowboy."