Trail of Lust (7 page)

Too soon, he released her. “Come,” he murmured.

They stole across the field. In the distance, she heard the whicker of his horse. She stopped and glanced back at the house. Excitement and joy boiled in her chest. Next time she crossed that threshold, it would be as a married woman with Graham's hand clutched around hers.

A flicker of movement near the windmill stopped her in her tracks.

Graham tossed a look at her. “What is it?"

She stared, narrowing her eyes to try to see through the darkness. Was that good-for-nothing Jenkins out here, watching her? The wind tore at her straw hat, threatening to rip it from her head and ruin her hair if she wasn't quick.

"Nothing.” She allowed Graham to pull her forward again. In seconds, the enormous horse came into view. Graham issued a low whistle, and it cantered toward them.

He caught the reins, a smile in his voice. “That's my boy. Here, darlin', let me give you a hand up."

His “hand up” turned out to be lifting her into the saddle without a bit of help from her. As he steadied her, he gripped her waist a little too long. She yearned to see his face, but the moon offered little tonight. He reached upward to cup her cheek. She leaned into him like a barn cat, inhaling the scent of his skin and shuddering at his touch.

"You're sure about this, Kathleen?"

"I've never been so sure about anything in my life."

He went still. Again. Last time he'd turned to stone, she'd learned he had a wife who had been murdered. She held her breath and tried to see his eyes, which were hidden by the brim of his hat.

"There's a current between us,” he said at last, voice ragged.

Her breath left her with a whoosh. “Yes."

"I'm glad you gave in to that pull, Kathleen. But there's something you've gotta know before we hitch up."

A knot clogged her throat. She struggled to swallow around it, her mouth suddenly dry as dust.

He continued to hold on to her waist, fanning his fingers across her rib cage and sending white-hot shivers through her. But his words put the fear of God into her.

"Once we marry tonight, baby, I'll spend all night loving you. But in the morning, I'm taking you back to your house, safe and sound."

She shook her head, confusion a shroud around her mind. “With you, of course. We'll go together to tell my pa."

He kneaded her waist, moving in so his chest pressed against her knees. “No, sweetheart. We're going to keep this marriage a secret. Just for a little while."

She felt her brow crumple and dropped her gaze, staring at the width of his chest until her vision blurred. Fighting to grasp his words, she ran through several reasons why he'd make this request. Was he embarrassed by her? Or was it something entirely different—like he could be in trouble with the law? His cousin Xander had spent a year on the run. Maybe Graham was caught up in that.

His big, warm finger stroked the underside of her chin. Her pussy throbbed in response as she remembered too well the kisses he had delivered to that same spot while he fingered her to completion.

A ragged sigh left her.

"I promise you, Kathleen, that the instant I make sure no one is after me and no harm will come to you, I'll shout our news to the world. I'll ride down through the middle of San Antonio, bellowing to everyone willing to listen that you're my wife."

His words trickled into her brain. Warmth spread through her like honey, but she had to know more.

"Is someone after you, Graham?"

He cast a look around as if someone might have sneaked up on him. A pang went straight to her soul. She wished with all her heart she could ease the pain he carried on a daily basis.

"I can't take a risk with you.” His voice was roughened by emotion. He cupped her face and drew her down to claim her mouth. The soft meeting of their lips pulled a moan from her. He held the kiss until she nipped his lower lip, urging him on.

He pulled back, laughing. He took her boots from her, unknotted the strings, and set about slipping them onto her feet. She watched his quick, economical movements, fighting the rising need his thick fingers inspired.

In one swift motion, he swung into the saddle behind her. Tugging her close, he murmured against her neck. “You look mighty pretty tonight for our wedding, Kathleen."

Her desire to join herself to him was a fortress around her, and no matter what secrets lay on the other side of the wall, she still wanted him.

With a click, he sent the horse speeding into the night, across the fields and into the valley where the preacher waited to hear their vows.

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Graham could barely tear his gaze from his woman long enough to thank the preacher for getting up in the middle of the night to perform their ceremony. Kathleen was dressed in a prim white lawn blouse with a charcoal-gray vest fitted tightly to her ample curves, and a gray, flaring skirt. Her straw hat sported a black ribbon that made Graham's fingers itch to pull it off.

"The only thing that could be improved upon concerning your appearance would be if your thick auburn waves were free,” he whispered into her ear as the preacher took his place before them.

She turned her glowing, cornflower-blue eyes on him, driving all thoughts that he was making a grave error from his mind. He chafed her fingers and edged closer to her. Then, with a rumble of satisfaction, he spun his arm around her waist and anchored her against his side.

To hell with propriety, he thought. They were alone, and the preacher wasn't going to take offense at this familiar touch. He was being paid triple for his efforts.

Kathleen tilted her face up to his, and Graham nearly lost all control then and there. Her lips were entirely too plush for her own good. While ideas worked in his head about how to use that pretty little mouth, the preacher began the ceremony.

Flashes of Graham's first wedding rose up. He and Bella being joined in a canvas tent on the boundary of the camp by a priest who had left his robes behind to fight for the South. This time, Graham could provide a solid wood structure for Kathleen.

But there would be no ringing bells to herald their union, not at midnight. And he'd asked the preacher to keep his lips sealed.

Graham had arranged for a private room for their wedding night. He'd sneak her in and make love to her all night on a real bed, watching her eyes darken with passion by candlelight.

"Mr. Hollis, is there a ring?” The preacher stared at him with wide, owl-like eyes.

Kathleen's smile wavered as if she were about to burst into giggles.

Graham felt his own grin spread over his face. Again, he experienced that burst of joy at not only having the ability to smile but having something to smile about. Despite his haunting memories, happiness was inches away.

He fished into his trouser pocket and located the thin gold band he'd purchased earlier that day. It wasn't the quality he would have liked to have given her, but it would have to do. This small town had just sprung up as a result of the new railroad, and the trading post didn't exactly carry a wide selection of women's trinkets.

Kathleen extended her delicate, white hand. It pulsed up and down in the air, trembling with nervousness. He searched her gaze for reservations. They knew little about each other, but hell, his parents had fallen in love at first sight and been married within hours. For the past forty years, they'd been happy with their decision.

A soft sigh left Kathleen as Graham slipped the warm band over her finger. It was slightly big, and she folded her fingers into a fist to keep it from falling off. The elation on her face made his heart quicken.

His mind continued to reel, and he heard only half of what the preacher had to say. In the end, the words, “man and wife” broke through his haze.

"Thank you, darlin',” he whispered to his new wife. Gathering her to his chest, he slipped a hand beneath her hat and flipped it off.

"Graham!"

He hushed her by covering her mouth with his. The hunger rose in him instantly. His cock grew harder. He wanted to kiss her like a proper husband—all over her silken little body. But he was sensible of the preacher's presence, so he settled for a swift, chaste kiss.

It was over too quickly, and when he pulled back, Kathleen's expression reflected her displeasure. Her
restlessness.

Don't worry, baby. I plan to love you thoroughly.

Swiftly, he turned to the preacher and shook hands, aware of the man's strong grip. A good, honest man. In this part of the country, Graham tended to size men up this way. Kathleen's father had a good grip too. However, the hired man working for the Allens showed not only weakness but something slimy too.

Shaking off the feeling, he scooped Kathleen up and sped her out into the night. When he towed her past his horse, she faltered.

"Aren't we taking your horse?"

"Not this time. I have a surprise for you.” Again, that smile etched across his face. Yes, he could learn to like this. A lot.

On the narrow main street running through the fledgling town and rutted by wagon wheels and horse hooves, he slowed his pace so Kathleen could keep up with him on her shorter legs and high-heeled boots. The ache to toss her over his shoulder and rush to the rented room claimed him.

Slow.

They passed the wooden structures—bathhouses, trading post, and hotel. She looked up at the hotel sign as they passed. “Where are we going?"

"Shh. Trust me, darlin'. I'll always take care of you."

He led her around the back of the hotel and to a narrow door. Letting them in without a word, he pulled her up a flight of stairs toward the lantern glimmering at the top. Glancing back over his shoulder, he saw her eyes wide and glittering.

At the top of the stairs, he paused, feeling along the wall for the door latch. It clicked open, and he pushed the door inward.

Candles glowed around the space, and the big, inviting bed beckoned to them. Lying at the foot of the bed was the bouquet he'd spent an hour picking for her in the meadow that afternoon. The hotel owner had agreed to light the candles right before they came up.

Kathleen gasped. Her white fingers fluttered to her mouth, and she pressed her plump lips. Over her fingertips, her eyes filled with tears. “Graham..."

"I wanted something special for my bride."

A soft noise escaped her at that. He couldn't wait a moment longer. He had to put his hands on her.

Spinning her into his arms, he bent to her mouth. She met him halfway, sharing a soft, seeking kiss filled with emotion. The feeling scared him, but what was he to do? He'd taken this enormous step by making her his. The least he could do was be honest about the sensations she raised in him.

Tenderness, protectiveness, passion.

He slanted his mouth over hers, drinking in her sweet tastes. She laced her fingers behind his neck and demanded more of him by giving him her tongue. Their mingled moan shivered in the still space.

He walked her backward until her thighs bumped the bed. Her smile spread beneath his mouth, and he licked the corners, exploring the shape of her joy. He cupped her face and gazed into her eyes.

"You look beautiful tonight, Kathleen. I'll remember you this way for the rest of my life."

Her eyelids fluttered, and her pulse quickened beneath his finger. Dipping his head, he kissed that throbbing spot on the side of her neck. She angled her head and allowed him better access.

He handled her with the softest of touches, stroking the satin of her skin with his lips. Her flesh rose to him in the form of goose bumps, and his cock throbbed heavily in response. Gliding a hand down her shoulder to her collarbone, he traced the lines of her body down to her breast.

The heavy mound filled his palm, and he fought the urge to rock his hips against hers. Fuck, she was all woman. Curves and glowing eyes. With one hand, he pulled the pins out of her loose bun while kneading her breast lightly with the other.

A pink flush climbed her face.

"I'm going to enjoy watching you by candlelight, sweetheart."

She flattened her palms on his chest. “I can't wait to see you.” Her bold admission made her voice shake. The sight wrenched his heart, and he realized with a jolt that he'd lost a bit of it to her.

To avoid admitting his love, he spoke the first thing that came into his head. “We left your hat at the church. I'll fetch it in the morn."

"I don't need it tonight.” She plucked at his shirtfront, popping the button in the center and sliding two fingertips into the space. Her fluttery touch ignited him.

With a growl, he bore her back onto the bed. The mattress gave way, cradling them perfectly. He ground his hips into hers, his cock aching for that sweet heat.

She arched beneath him, bringing her breasts against his chest and her hips into his. “I can't stop thinking about this, Graham. The loving."

"I love how responsive you are. When I touch you here.” He caressed her nipple, causing her to cry out. “And when I kiss you here.” He sucked the sensitive spot behind her ear until she writhed.

She eased his coat off his shoulders and tossed it aside. Then she tore at his buttons, staring at him as she stroked his bare chest.

When her maddening fingers pattered over his nipples, he had to put an end to her torment or blow. He eased off her and began stripping her methodically—shoes and stockings, taking time to caress the hollow behind each knee before moving on. He worked every pearl button and tiny hook until the layers were removed. When he reached her lacy underthings, he gave a quiet laugh. New stitches graced her chemise, running in a seam the length of the front where he'd ripped it last night.

"I'm mighty sorry about your chemise."

She quivered with mirth. “You sound anything but sorry, sir. I wore it as a memento of our night together."

Dropping his lips to the peak of her breast, he mouthed it through the thin cloth. She convulsed at his touch, twisting the hair on his nape. He wet the cloth, conforming it to the ripe nub. In the glow of the candlelight, it shone dark rose. He moved to the other nipple, sucking it gently through the cotton, then harder until she rose off the bed with a cry.