Wicked Temptations (6 page)

"I've spent little time around children," Priscilla said. "I don't see how I could advise your daughter, especially about staying chaste. I don't mean to imply that I've been unchaste, but it has not been difficult for me to remain virtuous, because there have been no temptations. But your daughter lives in a different world from the one in which I was raised. I'm sure she's a pretty young woman, who attracts handsome young men, something I never had to contend with."

Adam studied Priscilla's wistful face. Odd that men didn't gravitate toward her. But he was about to change that. "Well, Miss Priscilla Phipps," he said, "you'll be contending with me now." He reached out and stroked her cheek. "I hope you won't take offense when I tell you that I miss your appealing little freckles, and your tangled red hair, and your long golden lashes, because that's who you are, and that was what attracted me to you. And I am going to kiss you now." He leaned over, took her by the arms and pressed his lips to hers. For a few moments she didn't respond, but when he opened his eyes and saw her looking at him, he broke the kiss momentarily, and said, "Priscilla, close your eyes."

She did, and the next moment her arms were around his neck, her lips parted, and she made no attempt to stop him when his tongue slid into her mouth to taste and tease. Before long, her tongue began to shyly explore his, gradually becoming bolder, until she was matching the rhythm of his thrusts with an eagerness that took him by surprise. Somehow she'd moved onto his lap, and her arms tightened around him, and her mouth became more demanding, and before he could catch himself, she'd hurled herself against him, tumbling him backwards and landing on top of him, until the full length of her was stretched over the full length of him.

Her eager kiss and warm womanly body sprawled atop him clouded his senses. He cupped his hands over her nicely-rounded bottom and pushed her intimately to him, and she pressed her breasts against his chest and deepened the kiss. Her passionate response was almost his undoing. Only the sound of voices in the distance brought him back to his senses. Breaking the kiss, he raised himself to sit up, taking her with him.

Once upright, her eyes popped open in surprise.
"Oh, my word!"
she exclaimed. Untangling her arms from around him, she shifted off his lap and rested on one hip again, tucking her booted feet demurely beneath her. "That has never happened to me before," she said, fanning her face with her hand. "I don't know what came over me."

"I assure you, you were not the only one affected by that kiss." Adam glanced around to see if anyone had been watching. Relieved, he said, "We'd better reel ourselves in or your virtue is sure to be questioned." When he turned back, her fingers were pressed against her lips. "Are you alright?" he asked. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

She shook her head. But her eyes held a new light, one he recognized as passion. "No, I'm find," she said, her voice catching with her labored breaths. "Just a little winded. I don't know why this has been happening of late. It's like my lungs collapse and have to be refilled. It must be the high plains air. It wasn't dry like this in
Missouri
."

Adam looked around again, and when he was certain no one was watching, he leaned toward and kissed the side of her neck and beneath her ear, and said softly, "It's not the high plains air, sweet lady, it's the fact that you have a very passionate nature that has been bottled up." He pecked at her bottom lip, which was protruding with puzzlement, and added, "And I am honored to be the one to uncork the bottle."

She patted her chest. "I would never have imagined I had a passionate nature," she said, "but clearly you uncorked something." When she looked at him, he thought he'd never seen eyes so alive with the joy of discovery. And there was so much more he wanted her to discover about herself. As long as he was the one to lead the expedition.

Oddly, the thought of being the first man in her life was more arousing than anything he'd experienced. Just about any attractive female could arouse any normal male to some extent. But what happened when he was around Priscilla went far beyond an awareness of an uncomfortably hardened male member and the need to alleviate the discomfort. It moved upward from there to squeeze his chest, and twist around his heart, and addle his brain, and make him want to wrap himself around Priscilla and bond with her, body and soul, until neither of them could breathe...

"You have such a strange look in your eyes," Priscilla said, shattering an image of passionate lovemaking. "What are you thinking about?"

Adam curved a hand behind her neck and drew her towards him. "I was wondering if I was the first to kiss you? I'd like to think I was." He closed his lips around her earlobe.

Priscilla let out a little moan of pleasure when he began sucking and said, between labored breaths, "Well, actually no. You were not the first. Umm... I like that," she added, when he traced the inner chambers of her ear with the tip of his tongue.

Adam couldn't help the disappointment that gripped him, ludicrous as it was, that Priscilla had been kissed before. He also knew they were being foolish, dallying where others could see them, should anyone venture from the gathering and walk around the side of the church. He stopped his sensual assail and put a little space between them, and said, "Then tell me about this man who came before me."

Priscilla straightened her back and braced her hand against the blanket. Devilment in her eyes, she said, "His name was Kenny, and he kissed me under the cake table at my seventh birthday party, and I kissed him back. My father saw it happen, and after the party was over, he took a willow stick to me, which I suppose was good. I never let a boy kiss me after that. And when I got older, none ever tried again."

"Well, this boy intends to try again. You can count on that."

When Adam reached for her, Priscilla shoved a dish into his hand, and said, "I think it's time to turn our attention to the food." She put two pastry sandwiches on the plate and added cucumber slices, tomato wedges and a spoonful of bean salad. "I apologize for my impious behavior, especially here on the church grounds. It's obvious I should not be the one to advise your daughter about chastity, as it seems my own virtue is in question."

"Your virtue is not in question," Adam said. "You're a woman still innocent of a woman's need. Men are not the only ones to seek fulfillment. A woman's need can be strong too. For now, however, let's eat what you've brought, and you can tell me about your newspaper. Since I can't convince you to find work more suitable for a woman, I'd like to hear what you have planned."

Priscilla's face brightened. While preparing a plate for herself, she said, in an animated voice, "
The Town Tattler
will be a singlesheet newspaper at first, which will be printed on Readyprint so I won't have to worry about ads or printing on the reverse side. But as soon as I have enough advertisers to fill half the back side, I'll dispense with the Readyprint ads and fill the rest of the page with copy. The paper will cover topics that appeal to women: society news, recipes, advice to the lovelorn, a continuing romantic story, and a gossip column and bulletin where women can air personal grievances. I'll solicit women writers for essays and editorials, and if they submit a piece suitable for publication, I'll include it. I won't be able to pay them, but they should find satisfaction in seeing their work in print. And they will not be forced to take a man's name in order to be recognized. They'll be allowed to publish under their own names."

As she expanded on her ideas, Adam saw the fervor in Priscilla's eyes. He'd seen that look in a woman's eyes before, and there was no stopping them. But he was not looking to marry Priscilla, only to install her in his house to monitor his children.

When she'd finished her spiel about her paper, she nibbled the crust of a fruit tart, chewed thoughtfully, and said, "I plan to pull the first edition at the beginning of next week and post it at the town hall for everyone to see. In the meantime, my ladies are learning to set type." She clasped her hands together, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, and said in an animated voice, "I can hardly believe that
The Town Tattler
is about to become a reality."

Adam fought the urge to funnel all that passion into another kiss. From now on, he'd kiss her only in private, where she would be free to unleash her passionate nature.

After they finished eating, Adam reclined on the blanket with his legs stretched out and his upper body propped against his elbow and studied Priscilla's face. She had nibbled away the reddening on her lips while eating, the golden tips of her eyelashes were peeking through the sooty dust that had been there, and her freckles were beginning to emerge through the powder on her face. And he liked what he saw. In fact, he wanted to scrub off all that stuff and see the fresh, pretty woman she was. He hadn't realized it until now, but she was pretty, with a straight nose, firm chin, and luminous eyes as changeable as the clouds. And when she talked, her lips were a marvel to observe, tipping up in amusement at one moment, flattening with consternation the next. And there were those moments like now, when they parted and she ran her tongue over them, leaving a trail of moisture... when he could barely suppress the desire to kiss her again...

"Adam?" she said, anxious eyes, pure green with the reflection from her dress and the greenery around them. "What happened to your wife?"

Adam stiffened. The last person he wanted to talk about was Rachael. Just the thought of her left a bitter taste in his mouth. "She left me shortly after we arrived in
Cheyenne
. She's in
New York
pursuing a stage career. She's not part of our lives."

"Was she pretty?" Priscilla asked.

"She was a beautiful and cunning bitch."

"Oh." After a few moments of thoughtful silence, Priscilla said, "Do you still want to move me into your house?"

The way she was looking at him, eyes wide with expectation, lips parted in anticipation, Adam wanted to move her into his bed. A patently stupid idea. "Yes," he replied. "It would give me peace of mind, knowing Trudy was away from that young buck, Tom Rafferty. I have a housekeeper to handle the staff, so your only duty would be to keep a watchful eye on my children. I'd stay there a few nights a week at first to make sure things were running smoothly."

"I think I'd like that." Priscilla stared at him, a frown gathering on her brow as if reconsidering, and said, "But if I need to work late to get the paper out, could the children come with me, maybe help around the place? I could even pay them some."

Adam had not considered that. But it would keep Trudy occupied. All
Alice
needed was a place to curl up so she could read her books, and Weldon could be Priscilla's printer's devil. "An excellent idea," he said, "But I'll take care of paying them as part of our arrangement. When would you be ready to move in?"

"In about a week," Priscilla replied. "That's when the women will be moving into the boarding house." She smiled her beautiful smile, and a small dimple that Adam had not noticed before emerged in one cheek. "I only have a couple of trunks and a few valises, which my pressman can load onto my buckboard and unload when we get to your house."

"Your pressman," Adam said, contemplatively. "Where is he staying?"

"Jim fixed up the storage shed behind my building," Priscilla replied. "It's freshly painted, curtains on the windows, a stove for heating and cooking. He's comfortable, and very adaptable."

As Adam looked at Priscilla's animated face and sparkling eyes, a feeling of uneasiness crept over him. Moving her into his house could have serious ramifications. He'd be installing her there for the purpose of monitoring the children, especially Trudy, while impressing on them the importance of maintaining good virtue. But whenever he was around Priscilla, he had trouble controlling his own actions. The desire to touch her and kiss her and caress her was becoming a problem. And from Priscilla's reaction to his kiss, she had little, if any, self control at all. He was undecided whether her enthusiastic response to his kiss was because she was a virgin still untouched, who became overwhelmed by a man's embrace, or because he brought out the basic, unrestrained animal instincts of the passionate woman she was. All he knew was, during those times when he'd be staying overnight at his house on
17th Street
, he'd have to maintain a respectable distance from Miss Priscilla Phipps, or he could not predict his own actions. Or hers.

***

In the short time she'd been in
Cheyenne
, Priscilla learned that the newspapers in the area were sharply divided in their positions on the direction of the
Wyoming
frontier. Newspapers supporting the cattle industry wrote scathing editorials railing against the homesteaders who were coming in droves to the high plains, claiming parcels of land, fencing off valuable grazing land, and cutting off established routes needed for driving herds of cattle for shipment by rail to the east. Cattle rustling was also rampant... so the cattlemen claimed. Newspapers supporting the homesteaders wrote caustic editorials demonizing the tyrannical cattle barons, who were threatening farmers and homesteaders in an effort to force them off their claims.

There was no question that incidents had taken place, but those in support of the cattlemen insisted that what was in the editorial attacks had been fabrication. The issue was heating up, and many were predicting that there could be an all out war between cattlemen on one side, and farmers and homesteaders on the other.