Trail of Lust (4 page)

"Not at all ordinary, sir."

"Graham."

She jerked her head up, her gaze locking with his in a slow dance before the real and frenzied loving came about. “Then you must call me Kathleen."

"In my mind, I've called you nothing else in the ten hours since I left you."

Her eyelids fluttered, and she swallowed hard. His heart sank into his stomach. Yes, the love words could bring her to a fever pitch, and if he was earnest about making her his, he must deliver them.

A shock speared him. Making her his? Had that thought seriously just crossed his mind?

Suddenly, it was as if he were staring down the barrel of a cannon at close range. No, he couldn't take her without marrying her. And marrying her was out of the question. The institution of marriage had backfired on him once.

The echoes of past events reverberated through his head. He clutched it and tried to force them out, but they continued to come, haunting him as they always would.

"He's got her, sir! Hurry!"

Graham spun, piercing the young messenger boy in his harsh gaze. Heart skidding to a stop, he released a roar. Bella. The boy could mean no other.

Leaping the campfires, pumping his leg muscles frantically, he wove through the makeshift village to the place on the edges where he'd set up his tent with his wife. Frantically, his mind worked. Who? Why? In the past two months, he'd offended more than one soldier. The regiment was cracking down on traitors and those who would abandon their posts, and Graham did his job by calling them out before the secrets of the entire Confederacy were leaked or their own were compromised.

One man rose to mind—Wabash.

Gasping for air, he fought his way toward the tent. The white structure loomed ahead, and Graham caught sight of the man's tall form—not Wabash but another from his company who had taken offense to Graham's leadership.

Graham's link to Bella whirled through his mind as he spotted his wife, dress torn off and her curves exposed, blood on her face and thighs. And on her throat. A dark slash of blood welled on the ivory column.

Surging forward, Graham issued a bellow just in time to see Bella's big brown eyes blink one last time before going blank with death.

He stopped breathing, thinking, feeling. Reaching for the cold steel against his hip, he pulled his pistol, took aim, and shot the man in the side of the neck.

The man turned and riveted his gaze on Graham, his mouth working and filled with blood. “I am a man of a family,” he said.

"So was I,” Graham said.

The man fell in a crumpled heap to the ground and into the flames of hell.

Graham shuddered and hitched his arms tighter around his knees. No, he couldn't take that chance again. He'd sworn he'd never marry. There were too many men out there willing to take away what he loved and cherished. Graham had sent the soldier who'd killed his wife to his grave, but how many more were there? Wabash, for one.

Risking Kathleen was not an option, but deep in his soul, he knew she could come to mean as much to him as Bella.

DESIRE LICKED THROUGH Kathleen's body. Her pulse thrummed hard, and warmth spread low through her belly. She squeezed her thighs together, trying to ease the ache. Graham was inches away from her, had returned to see her, but now he felt a county away.

She'd gone with her gut instincts, allowing him to kiss her. But maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe he truly was too wounded and distant to be the man she thought he was.

Plucking a blade of grass, she began to pick away at it, separating the shaft into long strips. The moon's glow offered little light, but she could see the tightness of Graham's lips and the tense set of his wide shoulders.

Shoulders that had pressed her down so perfectly a minute before.

He'd admitted he'd thought about her in the past ten hours. Perhaps this upset him. He hadn't spoken since making this statement. Long minutes drifted by. The quiet noises of the animals in the barn reached her as well as the low burble of the creek that cut a path through the land. In the house, her father would be doing his ritualistic wheeze, snort, gasping sounds in his sleep.

Finally, the silence threatened to steal her sanity. “While you were away, you didn't think of me as Nibby?"

A soft noise broke from him like a grunt of laughter or a sob. She studied his handsome features. His full lips called to her, urging her to move forward and take what she wanted. If only she had the guts.

"I might have thought of you as Nibby a time or two."

"And did it make you smile, Mr. Hollis?"

"Graham.” His tone was harsher, insistent.

She bowed her head, staring at the blade of grass in her fingers. “Graham."

"It did cause me to smile. I remember your face in the window just there.” He pointed toward the one small section of glass on the side of the house. “Your nose was squashed, and I think your tongue was sticking out."

She burst out laughing despite herself. “How perfectly horrid."

He nodded. “I thought so."

Tossing the grass aside, she surged to her knees and threw herself at him. They tumbled backward. He caught her waist between his hands, hitching her fully atop him. Shocked by her courage, she sprawled over his length, feeling his arousal.

Lord. He's huge.

Moisture pooled in her sex, slicking her folds.

"Kathleen, I can't be held accountable for my actions if you don't move off me.” His voice was gritty, dark with something she wanted to move closer to.

Lowering her mouth to his, she hovered a breath away. “Graham, no one is asking you to restrain yourself."

He groaned. The rumble in his chest sent pangs of want straight to her pussy. She shifted.

Clamping his hands around her middle, he held her absolutely still. “Don't. Move,” he said in a harsh tone.

They stared into each other's eyes for several heartbeats. Unable to control her urges a minute longer, she dropped her lips to his. Suddenly, she was being flipped, thrown into the bed of grasses, and with a very big man resting between her legs.

He gripped her thighs and wrapped them around his hips, bringing her neediest spot in contact with his shaft. The cotton of her skirts did not act as a barrier. She still felt his heat as if they were flesh to flesh.

He took her mouth, kissing her with rough passion as he slid his hands up her hips. When they continued past her waist, she gasped. Her nipples pinched into two tight buds, the skin prickling. He inched his fingers upward, brushing the undersides of her aching breasts.

Panting with want, she arched, bringing her breast fully into his palm. A growl sounded in his throat. He tore his mouth away and nuzzled the length of her throat. The rough hair of his jaw scraped her skin deliciously, raising gooseflesh all over her body.

"Please, Graham."

His breath warmed her throat. “You don't even know what you're asking for."

"Don't I?” She threaded her fingers into his soft mass of hair.

"No. I can't simply take a maid, Kathleen. Not without promising you a union."

Her heart tripped. Her mind screamed that it was wrong to give him her body when they weren't married—her parents had raised her to believe this. But at the moment, the needs of her flesh outweighed her morals.

He swirled his tongue over the sensitive spot behind her ear, completely tipping the scales in favor of a midnight tryst with Graham Hollis, and to hell with the consequences.

"Damn,” he muttered. Lifting his head, he stared at her hard. She squirmed beneath the weight of that gaze, unable to look away. He cupped her breast, and her nipple tightened to a little stone beneath his hot palm.

"Kathleen, you're so young—"

"Old enough to know what I want."

"I'm older, set in my ways. I have a lot of demons."

She swallowed hard. “I think I know some of them."

He jerked, searching her gaze. “Do you?” Before she could answer, he went on. “God, I haven't wanted anyone like this in so long. But I can't simply take you."

Regret flooded her. He was going to send her away. She longed for him with every ounce of her being, but he was going to send her back inside the home she shared with her pa. Back to the dull correspondence with her distant cousin from Wyoming, and no prospects for a passionate marriage.

One like she'd have with Graham.

She knew a bit about what soldiers went through after they returned from the war. It couldn't have been easy for him to readjust to a normal life. Was it possible that he had left behind a love?

Tears formed in her eyes. One broke free, and he caught it with his big thumb. “Hell, Kathleen—"

"You don't know me either.” She lifted her jaw, erecting the walls she'd need to walk away with grace.

"I know enough. You're the daughter of Silas Allen, and that means you're a good gir—woman—and a hard worker. I know you're soft in all the right places.” He caressed the curve of her hip, making her sex throb heavily. “You're one hell of a kisser, and I think you'd be amazing in my bed."

Her breath quickened at his heated words.

His eyes glittered, but his mouth twisted with some internal struggle. A heartbeat stretched between them, lengthening until she started to doubt he really wanted to touch her.

When she parted her lips to put an end to this insane silence, he spoke.

"Kathleen, I want you. It's a mighty quick courtship, but I'm asking ya, darlin'. As soon as I can make arrangements, will you steal away to the preacher with me?"

A low cry burst from her. Her belly bottomed out as if she'd just missed the top step in an entire flight of stairs.

Graham's mouth quirked up at the corner. Tiny creases appeared around his eyes, and she couldn't restrain herself another minute. She drew his head down and kissed each eye, first one then the other, trailing her lips down his cheek to his chiseled jaw.

"What does that mean, sweetheart? Talk to me. Give me the words.” His demand was low, and his voice wavered with uncertainty.

Her heart went out to him. Could this rugged cowboy actually have insecurities?

Turning her mouth into his, she whispered against his lips, “Yes, Graham. I'll be your wife."

His expression turned possessive, carnal. He slid his hands beneath her and gathered her roughly to his chest. Crushing his lips over hers, he kissed her, thoroughly exploring her mouth until she was whimpering with need.

"This is our wedding night,” he murmured between fiery kisses. “I'd give you the finest down mattress, but I can't help but feel you truly belong here beneath the moon."

Kneeling up, he reached for the top button of her blouse. Shivers of anticipation ran down her spine. Her pulse tripped out of control, and her mind reeled. This man had just asked her to be his wife. Now he was going to claim her body.

The stolen kisses of earlier in the day suddenly seemed tame by comparison. She'd played with fire, and now she was about to be consumed by the flames.

He flicked the first button open. Cooler air rushed over the small inch of skin. Tremors racked her.

"Don't be frightened, Kathleen.” His voice was a caress, as velvety as the dark night. His musk infused her senses, and the tips of his rough fingers as he worked the remaining pearl buttons of her blouse heightened the experience.

He skimmed her flesh, dipping his fingers into her chemise. Bowing upward, she sought more of his touch. His eyes were two candles in the night. Was this really happening? Had a Hollis man as handsome and dangerous as Graham really just asked her to be his?

He opened the final button of her blouse. He slid his hands into the opening, letting them travel over her cotton chemise. She wished she'd worn her good one she reserved for special occasions and church. But she'd never expected more than a few stolen kisses from this man.

"Beautiful,” he said hoarsely.

He ran his thumbs down the V of her ribs to her waist. When he kneaded the slender curve, she writhed as shocks of want blazed through her. Her sex clenched, and moisture escaped the folds. Being raised on a ranch, she knew enough about mating, but this restlessness inside her was new. She couldn't explain it. The warm knot in her belly was too much to bear. She needed relief, and soon.

She reached for the buttons on his soft leather vest. He smiled encouragingly. She worked the buttons through the holes and then slid the garment from his broad shoulders. Abandoning it in the grass with a rustle, she reached for the hem of his cotton shirt.

"Not yet. I need as much control as possible to bed a virgin.” His desire roughened his voice and made her heart blossom with emotion.

Out here in the rough country where they lived, men and women rarely married for love. Convenience usually brought about unions. Her parents had been lucky to grow into a comfortable love for each other. She had only hoped for that herself, but now that Graham was within reach, she wondered if there was more to be had.

He dipped his head to the valley between her breasts. Gasping, she gripped his head as he kissed her in a place no man had ever laid eyes on before. He pressed a trail of kisses down the sides of each breast, tugging down the cloth of her chemise as he went. More than anything, she ached for him to remove the rest of her clothes and touch her all over.

Tingles spread through her belly. A frenzied need rushed up, and she found herself gasping. “Please, Graham."

"There's time, baby. We have all night. I'll keep you out here till dawn, loving you. Then I'll go off to find that preacher. I never thought I'd hear myself say that again."

Shock broke through her haze of passion.

He stared at her hard as she struggled to make sense of what he'd said. The wind trickled through the grasses and washed over her skin. The dampness on her skin cooled, and goose bumps broke out from scalp to toe.

"Kathleen. Don't be afraid to say what's on your mind."

She gulped and fortified herself. “Again?"

He lifted his head slowly, still licking his lips after tasting her skin. “Only a very few people know that I took a wife during the war. She was ripped from me."