Turner's Rainbow 2 - The Rainbow Promise (31 page)

❧

Sarah rode on the high wagon seat beside Luke, not saying a word. The two children were asleep in the back, stretched out on a quilt. She glanced at them and smiled. They were worn out. She was glad; she didn't want their childish chatter spoiling the mood.

She cast a sideways glance at Luke. He sat stiffly, staring straight ahead of him. He'd hardly looked at Sarah the whole ride out from town. Sarah didn't mind. His silence and avoidance of her were as clear a signal of his desire as if he had his hands all over her. He was taut with tension and very aware of her.

Sarah laid her hand casually on Luke's thigh. The hard muscle jumped beneath her palm, and she gave a tiny smile of satisfaction. Oh yes, he was aware of her.

Luke caught the little cat-in-the-cream smile on Sarah's face, it stirred him even more. She was teasing him, enticing him; she wanted him to lust after her so much he broke the bounds of his control Such evidence of blatant desire in his proper Sarah always aroused him.

His bands tightened on the reins. He tried to blank out of his mind what would happen when they reached home, to ignore the clamoring in his nerves and the heavy need in his loins.

When they reached their house, Luke jumped down from the wagon, then reached up to help Sarah. She leaned out, putting her hands on his shoulders, and he placed his hands on her waist. He lifted her down, her body sliding slowly through his hands. His thumbs brushed the soft sides of her breasts. Even that brief touch speared him with desire. She was too close to him. He could smell the faint scent of her perfume and see the undisguised invitation in her clear hazel eyes.

Why did she want him when he had caused her such pain? Why didn't she protect herself against him, instead of leaving herself so open and vulnerable?

They carried the children upstairs to bed, then Luke returned to unhitch the team and let them loose in the corral. He added hay to their trough and checked their water, then stood for a moment, leaning against the corral fence, delaying his return to the house.

He ought to sleep in the other bedroom tonight. It was pushing his limits too far to lie in that bed with Sarah again. Maybe another man could do it, a gentleman like Stu Harper or James Banks. They could probably leave their wives alone in order to protect them from having children. Banks would no doubt find a loose woman to slake his sexual desires. But Luke was too loyal to Sarah to do that; hell, he didn't want any other woman but Sarah. And his blood didn't run cool enough to make it easy for him to stay away from her. Now here she was, acting seductive. It was too much. The best thing would be to remove himself from the danger.

Luke went upstairs with that purpose in mind. He would tell Sarah he was sleeping elsewhere. He stopped at the doorway to their bedroom.

Sarah was seated in front of her vanity table, dressed only in a chemise and petticoat, taking down her hair. Luke watched her. He couldn't speak. He couldn't move.

She pulled out the pins from her hair one by one and dropped them into a flat porcelain box. Her hair hung heavily as the pins released it, then slowly tumbled down altogether. Her hair was long, reaching to her hips, thick and buoyant from having been pinned up. Luke thought about sinking his fingers into her hair and combing through it, and fire danced in his abdomen. Sarah picked up her silver-backed brush and ran it through her hair. Slowly she ran it down the length of her hair, pulling the heavy mass out a little from her body, so that it settled back at the end of each stroke, crackling.

Once, when they were first married, Luke had stood and watched her brush her hair this way, every fiber of him charged with passion. But that was a time when he had made love to her only once, briefly. He hadn't known what it was like to bury his face in her hair and smell the faint scent of lavender that clung to it, to feel its silken texture against his skin. He hadn't known what it was like to have it spread across his chest like a soft, dark cloud, hadn't had it trail along his skin as she kissed him all over. Luke drew in his breath with a hiss.

Sarah looked up and saw her husband in the mirror. She smiled. She watched Luke's eyes drop down her body, taking in the soft tops of her breasts and the tightening of her dark nipples beneath the sheer cotton chemise. Her eyes grew dark and dreamy. She made no effort to put on her robe.

Luke walked over to her, pulled by dark, unreasoning desire. There was no thought to him, only need and hunger. Sarah rose, pushing back the stool upon which she sat, still watching his reflection as he drew closer. Their eyes met in the mirror.

He put his hands on her upper arms and bent his head to hers, burrowing his face in her hair. He breathed deeply of the scent, his heart pounding faster with each breath. He kissed her hair. He lifted it and kissed the tender skin of her neck underneath. Sarah's eyelids fluttered closed. Luke's lips skimmed up her neck to her ear. His breath was hot and rasping, sending shivers through her. His tongue touched the shell of her ear and slowly, lovingly traced its convolutions. His teeth teased delicately at her earlobe. Sarah's mouth opened slightly, her breath coming faster.

Luke laid his head beside hers and looked at their reflection in the mirror. His hands moved from her arms onto the plane of her upper chest. Sarah's eyes came open, and together they watched as he moved his hands over her chest onto the globes of her breasts. He cupped the full orbs, and his thumbs eased over the nipples until the nubs stood out thick and pointing against her chemise. He squeezed her nipples gently between his forefingers and thumbs, rolling them. A flush rose to Sarah's face, and her chest rose and fell with her quickening breaths. Luke smiled, loving to see the desire he could bring to her. He ignored the insistent little voice in his brain that told him he was wrong, wicked and wrong.

Luke's fingers moved lower on her body, gliding down her flat stomach and abdomen to her thighs, flattening the cotton of her chemise and petticoat to her skin. He moved back up to her waist and untied the string that held up her petticoat. He released it and let the garment slide to the floor. His hands went to her chemise and unfastened the buttons that held it together. He slid the wide straps off her shoulders, and they hung in dangling loops around her arms. He spread his fingers wide across her chest, his skin startlingly brown against her white flesh. Both of them watched in the mirror as his fingers moved down over her breasts, shoving the chemise off, Luke stared into the mirror, his mouth dry as dust. With his forefinger he circled one nipple, barely touching it, and watched it prickle.

He groaned and nuzzled her neck. "Oh, sweetheart, God, I'm about to burst, wanting you."

In response Sarah smiled and rubbed her hips provocatively against his groin. He grunted and sank his teeth lightly into her neck. His hand went to the cotton-covered V between her legs and pressed her even harder against him. His shaft was thick and hard under her bottom, and she felt its pulse as he rubbed her over him.

Luke gazed at Sarah's face in the mirror. It was soft and slack, her eyes lambent and hazy with longing. Her lips were parted slightly; her tongue came out to moisten them, leaving them shiny. She looked as though she were melting, lost in desire, and he loved the look. It made him hard and hungry, the animal of desire barely kept in check. His hand pushed into the cleft between her legs, and they parted slightly, giving him access. He rubbed rhythmically. Sarah stirred against him, her head lolling back on his shoulder, and gave a small groan of pleasure. The noise sent another spurt of heat to his groin. The cloth turned damp with the moisture of her desire, and Luke sucked in his breath sharply

Sarah turned in his arms. "Don't tease me now, I want you too much." Her arms went around his neck, and she stretched upward to kiss him.

Her kiss was full and deep, her tongue coming boldly into his mouth, caressing, coaxing his own tongue out. He thrust into her mouth then, hard and demanding, grinding his lips into hers as if he would consume her Sarah pressed up into him, her breasts flattening against his chest, the nipples pricking at him. Luke's hands swept up over her body and grasped her hair, holding her head immobile, as though she might escape his predatory mouth. He rubbed his pelvis against hers, seeking release, seeking his home.

Sarah's hands slid down his back and dug into his buttocks. Luke made a noise deep in his throat, and backed her up against the vanity table, knocking over bottles and jars with a clatter. His knee went between her legs, parting them, and she rubbed her body up and down against his leg. He was wild with hunger for her, his hands moving everywhere on her body. He was desperate to have her, yet unwilling to stop their kisses or the exploration of his hands long enough to get rid of their clothing and move to the bed.

He lifted her, one arm beneath her hips, and walked her over to the bed. They fell onto the bed together, their hands tearing at their clothes as they kissed and caressed, unable to stay away from each other long enough to undress completely. They rolled across the bed, scattering their clothes across it and tossing them haphazardly onto the floor. Sarah unbuttoned his shirt but did not remove it; she was distracted by the sight of his firm, brown chest and kissed his nipples. Luke was struggling to remove her underwear but stopped— his fingers digging into her flesh—at the exquisite torment of her tongue circling his nipples. She bent to remove his boots, but at the sight of her bare back and hips, Luke had to pull her back up and kiss each knob of her backbone. Sarah unbuttoned his trousers but found more urgent things for her hands to do than push the garment down his legs.

Somehow they managed to get undressed, so that they lay full length against each other, luxuriating in their nakedness. Sarah explored Luke's body with her hands, rediscovering the different textures of the male body—the smooth flesh of his back, the furred skin of his thighs, the silken hair centering his abdomen, the satiny hardness of his manhood.

She dug her fingers into the fleshy mounds of his buttocks, delighting in his low, animal groan in response. She loved him with her fingers, lips and tongue, and he writhed beneath her ministrations, so pounding with desire that he thought he would explode, yet unwilling to cut short her delightful caresses.

He laved her skin with his tongue, kissing and teasing at her flesh. He nipped her buttocks with his teeth and tenderly kissed the inside of her thighs. His fingers sought out the hot, slick folds of her femininity and the hard little button of flesh that made her groan and twist, seeking release. She panted his name, opening her legs to him. "Please, Luke, please."

Luke slid inside her then. She winced slightly as he entered her, and he paused, fighting to hold back the surging tide of his passion. Then her face relaxed and her legs encircled him, urging him on. He moved in, finding his hot, tight home. It felt so good that he quivered and went rigidly still to keep from exploding in her too soon. Sarah clamped her legs around him and circled her hips, and he began to thrust within her. He could not move gently, with careful consideration for her tender body. He could only pound into her mindlessly with his hard, hungry flesh. But Sarah didn't notice his lack of care. She was as hungry and desperate as he, her pelvis churning in rhythm with his, welcoming each deep thrust.

It had been so long that it came quickly for them both, sweeping them along on an uncontrollable tide. Luke groaned hoarsely, shuddering as he spilled his seed into her, and all around him Sarah melted into her own hot spasms, crying out at the long-missed pleasure. They clung together, lost for a moment in eternity, utterly one.

They lay together, spent and at peace, unwilling to separate themselves. Finally Luke rolled off her, but his arms were tight around her still. Sarah snuggled into the hollow of his shoulder, her hair fanning out over them, and they slept.

❧

Luke awoke slowly, aware at first only of a deep sense of peace. Sarah slept curled up beside him, her back fitted against his chest and his arm flung across her. It was the way they usually slept. At least, it had been the way they usually slept; they hadn't done so in weeks now. Luke remembered that fact, and he was suddenly full awake. He remembered what he had done last night and why he shouldn't have. He bit back a soft groan.

Damn! Why had he given in to the temptation to enter Sarah's room last night? He should have gone to the other bed. She could be pregnant even now. His hand moved down to her abdomen and curled over it protectively. He was relaxed and content for once, more at ease than he had been at any time since Sarah lost the baby. But he had purchased his own satisfaction at the price of Sarah's safety. He was washed with guilt.

Luke kissed the top of Sarah's head softly and started to ease away from her body, but Sarah stirred and awakened, turning to him with a smile on her lips. Her hair was tangled, and it tumbled down over her bare shoulders, veiling the smooth white flesh. She looked warm and sleepy and well loved. Heat started anew in his loins.

"Good morning." Her voice brimmed with good humor.

Luke swallowed. "Good morning."

Sarah sat up, stretching, and the sheet fell down to her waist, exposing her breasts, covered now only by the curtain of her hair. It was worse than no cover at all, revealing as much as it hid and letting her nipples peek through coyly.

"Isn't it a beautiful morning?" Sarah flipped her hair back over her shoulders, without shyness with him.

"Yes." Luke looked quickly away and concentrated on the far wall. "It's time we should be up."

"Why? It's Sunday."

"Emily."

Sarah smiled. "Cal will take care of her."

There was nothing Luke wanted more than to lie down and spend a few extra minutes holding Sarah. But that would lead to other things, and it would be disastrous. "Church."

"It's still early yet." Sarah ran her hand lightly down his arm. His muscles turned to iron at her touch. "You know, one would almost think that you didn't want to stay here with me."

"Oh, Sarah," he groaned and sat up, moving away from her hand. "I want to stay with you. But I can't."

"Luke..."

"No." He swung out of bed and stood up. He found the trousers he'd discarded so hastily the night before and pulled them on, as though they would afford him protection from his own desires.

"What is it?" Sarah frowned, watching him. "What's the matter?"

Luke turned back to face her. "What I did last night was wrong. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have allowed it to happen. I was... weak. But it won't happen again. I promise you. I'll start sleeping in the other room."

Sarah started. "Wrong! What are you talking about?" Suddenly she felt naked and embarrassed, and she pulled the sheet up over her torso, jackknifing her knees and huddling into herself. Tears started in her eyes, and she dropped her gaze down to the sheet. "You think it was wrong for us to make love?"

"It was criminal of me."

When Sarah had awakened, she had felt happy and free of the sorrows that had haunted her for the past few weeks. At last she felt there was hope for the future. But now, at Luke's words, her world crumbled down around her ears once more. Sarah couldn't stop the tears that overflowed her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. "Why? Because I lost the baby? Do you hate me for losing your son?"

Luke stared at her, astonished. "What? No, of course not! How could I hate you for that? It wasn't your fault. It was mine! I was responsible for our son's death. I was to blame for the anguish you suffered. That's why I hate myself for taking you last night and why I won't do it again. I won't let you suffer like that again."

Sarah's head snapped up. She wiped at her tears with the palm of her hand. "I should have known you would blame yourself. Why? How are you responsible for my losing the baby?"

"You know why." Luke's voice was low and tormented. "Because I slept with you that night. The doctor had told us not to; he said it would hurt you and the baby. But I was so hot for you, so selfishly, damnably lustful that I ignored his warnings. I took you anyway."

"It wasn't lust! And you didn't 'take' me. We made love."

"What difference does it make how you term it? I made love to you, and two days later the baby came two months early. I caused it. It was because of me you almost died, because of me that you bled and bled and were wracked with pain. Don't you understand? How can you possibly not hate me? How can you even stand for me to touch you?"

Sarah's throat closed with unshed tears. "Oh, Luke. You're so hard on yourself. You always are. It's not a question of my 'standing' for you to touch me. I want you to; I long for it. I've been going crazy the past few weeks wondering why you wouldn't."

"Sarah, you're too good, too generous—"

"Nothing of the kind. I just love you. Look. I don't hate you because there is no reason to hate you. It wasn't your fault. Maybe you're right, and it was because of that night we made love. But you weren't the only one involved, you know; I was equally to blame."

"I gave in to temptation, like I did last night. I invaded your body. I was wickedly selfish, thinking of nothing but my own desire."

"Who do you think did the tempting? If you were wicked and selfish, so was I. If you were lustful, so was I. Luke, you didn't invade my body. I invited you. I welcomed you."

Luke let out a low moan and turned away from her. God, even her warm, openly desirous words made him stiff and aching again. He crossed his arms over his chest like a man in pain and went to the window. He stared out blindly. "You deserve a better man," he told her in a stifled voice. "A moral man, one who'll protect you first instead of indulging himself."

Sarah jumped out of bed and followed him. "There isn't a better man!" she snapped. "And if there were, I wouldn't want him. I want you. Do you think I wish you were any different from what you are? I don't." She laid her hands on his arms and slid them downward. His flesh quivered beneath her touch. "Yes, you're a healthy, lustful man. I like that." She kissed his back.

"Sarah, don't." He moved away. "I was irresponsible. I shouldn't have slept with you that night."

"You're right. We shouldn't have. But we did, and it's over and done with. There's nothing we can do about it now, except do better next time. When I'm pregnant again—"

"No!"

"When I'm pregnant again," she went on, ignoring his hoarse cry, "we'll follow the rules to the letter. But you can't change what happened by denying us both the pleasure of our bed now."

"I can change the future. I can make damn sure it doesn't happen again."

"But I'm not pregnant now. Why—"

He whirled. "I hope to God you're not! And I don't intend for you to be again. Even if you don't lose another baby, I won't let you go through the anguish of birth again to have my child. I'm not like my father. I care for you more than I desire you, more than I want to please myself. I won't murder you by making you bear my children. I refuse!"

"Luke!" Sarah started toward him, hands outstretched, but he stopped her with a look.

"No! I won't sleep with you again. I swear it." He turned and left the room.

Sarah slapped her hand against the wall. "Damn!" Why did Luke always take all the guilt, all the blame for everything upon himself? Why did he think he had to be perfect? He was going to ruin both their lives by trying to protect her from himself, when he was the last thing she needed to be protected from! She threw herself down on the bed and sobbed her heart out.