WM02 - Texas Princess (16 page)

The next day and the next were the same. They rode, taking only minutes to eat. No one bothered to talk more than was necessary. Tobin kept turning, never going in a straight path, never venturing into the open if there were shadows they could ride through.

On the fth day, an hour before dark, it began to rain, a slow drizzle that seemed to cool in the wind. Tobin told them it was a blessing, making tracking almost impossible, but as the rain soaked through her clothes, she didn’t feel blessed.

Stopping before dark, Tobin built a re. With the rain and fog, no one would see the smoke in the tal pine. For the rst time, they had coffee. As they huddled near the re the rain nal y stopped, but the clouds were so thick they looked like they were resting on the treetops.

Tobin rigged a line to hang their damp coats and Stel a made a stew from the leftover bits of food in the our sack. Since no one had anticipated the maid’s coming along—

there were only two cups, plates, and forks—Tobin insisted the women eat rst; then Liberty washed her plate with a bit of water from the canteen and handed it to him.

While he ate, Tobin and she silently agreed to share the cup of coffee.

The hot food seemed to have wound Stel a up again. She talked about how her family traveled by wagon to Texas when she was a girl. “Once,” she said with a laugh, “my baby brother, Fred, rol ed out from under the tent and Ma thought the Indians got him.

We were running around screaming and crying for an hour before Dad found him in the trench he’d dug to keep the water out of the tent.” She looked at Tobin. “You ever get frightened by any of those savages?”

“No,” Tobin answered, and stood.

For the rst time in days Liberty smiled, just thinking how Stel a would react if she knew Tobin were half savage. The maid might stop irting with him if she thought he’d scalp her in her sleep.

When Tobin walked into the shadows, Stel a said, “I swear that man must think every word he says cost a dime and he’s only got two bits to last a lifetime.”

Moments later, Tobin returned with wood.

As he stepped into the relight, Liberty asked, “Where wil you sleep?”

He tossed the logs on the ames. “In the shadows.” His words were so low they couldn’t have reached Stel a. “If someone should come upon us, it wil be by accident in this fog. I want to know he’s here before he gures out where I am.”

Liberty watched him disappear again, then curled close to the re and tried to sleep.

Stel a complained until she fel asleep in midsentence. With the re almost smothered in fog, the night took on an eerie glow. After spending an hour trying to get comfortable, Liberty nal y stood, wrapped her blanket across her shoulders, and poured the last cup of coffee. Then, feeling more than seeing her way, she circled the

re.

On her third round, she spotted him. If Tobin hadn’t moved she never would have seen him. He sat against the trunk of a fal en tree, almost invisible. His hat, as always, was low hiding his face but she guessed he’d been watching her every movement.

She walked toward him. “Want half of the last cup of coffee?”

He made room for her. “Sure.”

She sat almost touching him as they shared the coffee. She couldn’t see him, but she could feel the warmth of his nearness and it comforted her. They passed the cup between them.

“I feel out of harm’s way tonight, wrapped by the fog.”

He nodded. “If we’re being tracked in this mess, it’s by someone who knows more than I do.”

Liberty passed him the cup. “And that wouldn’t be Captain Buchanan?”

“Nope.” Their hands touched casual y as he took the cup. “More likely one of the savages...or a half-breed.”

They both laughed. She rocked and bumped his shoulder with hers before relaxing beside him once more. This time, their arms and legs brushed, warming Liberty more than any blanket could.

“Why are you stil up, Libby?” he nal y asked.

“I noticed tonight that you gave your blanket to Stel a when she complained.”

He stiffened, tel ing her he didn’t like to be questioned.

“This far from the campre can’t be warm.” She pushed.

“What is your point?” He crossed his arms.

She spread the blanket over them both and leaned against his shoulder. “Point is,” she said just as coldly as he had, “we’re sharing a blanket and you’d better not snore.”

He lifted his arm and she lay her head on his chest.

Final y, she let out a breath and added, “And, remember, tomorrow not a word to Stel a. Nothing about sleeping next to you is proper.”

His chin brushed her hair as he nodded. “Seems to me we’re developing quite a list of improper activities.”

“Swear you’l never tel .”

He laughed. “I swear.”

She closed her eyes and slowly relaxed into his warmth. If he wanted to chatter on, he’d have to do it alone like Stel a did. Al she planned to do was sleep.

chapter 13

Y

no moon gauged the hour of night. Liberty

shifted with the usual discomfort in her side, only this time she wasn’t cold, or alone.

Another body warmed her. Another heart beat next to her own.

Spreading her hand across Tobin’s chest, she realized exactly where she was. She lay cuddled into and halfway on top of him. His arm warmed her back and his hand spread over her hip as casual y as if he were familiar with her body. Her leg rested over his muscular thigh. His steady breath brushed against her forehead.

Slowly spreading her ngers beneath his vest, she felt the beat of his heart against her hand. He slept soundly, probably for the rst time in days. The night had grown black, but she would have known if he watched her. For days now she’d felt the gaze of his dark blue eyes protectively observing her every move.

The relight was no more than a red glow in the distance. Liberty smiled. She couldn’t see. She had no choice but to feel her way across the sleeping man beside her. He might be content to watch, but she wanted to touch him. Since that rst night in the barn, the hunger to be closer to him had built inside her, disturbing her thoughts, haunting her dreams. In her privileged life, she usual y did not have to wait for the things she wanted. But she had waited to touch Tobin.

Liberty knew her longings were short-lived. Her father had once cal ed her a itterbug, rushing from one interest to another. She’d want something, beg and demand to have it, then abandon it just as quickly. Yet she’d never longed to be close to a man. She wasn’t sure she even liked Tobin; he acted angry at her most of the time. Since the night he’d carried her out of her home, however, she’d craved his nearness.

She told herself that his presence gave her a sense of safety...but she knew it was far more. She wanted him close, very close.

And tonight, she had just that.

His arm felt solid as she moved her hand up his sleeve. A week’s worth of whiskers tickled across her ngers as she crossed his jaw and touched his ful bottom lip. She’d spent days trying not to think of the way his mouth had captured hers that night on the porch. He might be a quiet, shy man, but there was nothing quiet, or shy, in the way he kissed.

She leaned closer. His skin smel ed of spring water and she wondered when he’d had time to bathe. She trailed her nger down his open col ar and unfastened the rst button of his shirt, wanting to know what his chest hair felt like. In the darkness she became an explorer, a blind voyeur discovering her obsession. Tobin McMurray had been just that since he’d walked into her life . . . an obsession.

He was the rst man she felt she knew wel enough to have no fear of letting near.

She’d trusted other men, but Liberty had always been aware of who they were and, more important, who she was expected to be. Her father would al ow no scandal. She had to be the proper senator’s daughter every moment.

But a part of her deep inside ran wild and free. With Tobin she knew that what happened between them would stay between them and no one else.

When he didn’t wake with her touch, she moved her face closer lightly brushing her lips against his. She could never remember craving anything the way she craved another kiss, and here in the silent darkness there seemed no border to stop her from tasting once more.

For a moment, he didn’t move; then she felt his mouth slide into a smile.

“You’re awake?” She would have pul ed back, but his arm held her atop him.

“Did you plan to have your way with me while I slept?” His low laugh rumbled through his chest and she felt it echo through her body as wel .

“Maybe,” she whispered, moving her ngers into his hair, loving the thickness of it.

“After al , I’ve got you surrounded.” She bal ed her st into the dark brown mass as if trapping her prey.

“Then do your worst, Libby, because I’m tired of wanting what I had a taste of on the porch.”

He wouldn’t advance this time. He would wait for her to make the rst move. Before she changed her mind, she closed the inch between them and kissed him. His mouth welcomed her, teasing, playing, tasting.

After a long moment, she raised her head. “How about I do my best? I real y want to kiss you again. A taste for you seems to be something I’ve acquired of late.”

She knew he was smiling when he answered, “You’re hungry for me and that’s how you kiss? That’s the best you have to offer a man you woke from a deep sleep? Seems like if you real y set your mind to something you could do better.”

The second time she kissed him, there was no teasing and playing. She kissed him long and hard, tasting the passion that their rst kiss had only promised. She felt his entire body warm and harden against her. He made no effort to hide his need for her and she played no game of being shocked.

When she nal y pul ed away from her captive and rested her head on his shoulder, it took several seconds for their breathing to slow. She’d thought to quench her thirst for him, but as his chest rose and fel beneath her al Liberty could think about was kissing him again. The man was addictive.

“We can’t be doing this,” he nal y said, his hand brushing lightly over her hip in a gentle caress that made his words a lie. “Much as I enjoy it, we can’t. Not here, not now.”

She understood what he meant. This was certainly not the way a young lady and gentleman courted. But then nothing about Tobin McMurray was ordinary and they were not likely ever to court. He would never t into her world of parties and dances.

When they reached his ranch she would be the one out of place. But the ache for him went al the way through her. It had nothing to do with the gratitude of him saving her.

It was something far more basic.

“I’ve never felt this...” If he asked her to explain, she wasn’t sure she could. She felt like a part of her had been missing for years and when she met him she found that piece.

“I know,” he answered as uncertain of his words as she was of hers.

Feather-kissing her forehead, he groaned. His ngers tightened over her hip even while Tobin silently argued with himself. He didn’t belong in her world nor she in his, but right here, right now in the darkness between worlds, they could touch. They could feel. They could be together.

As if she read his mind, she moved closer, molding her body against his. She showed no embarrassment as she touched him.

“If I deny what is between us, I have a feeling I’l regret it al my life.” She moved her cheek against his chin. “I want to be closer to you, Tobin. Closer than I’ve ever been to a man.”

“We can’t . . .” He was having trouble forming thoughts.

“You’re right,” Liberty whispered, her words brushing against his ear. “We can’t do just this. I want to do more.”

“No” had formed on his lips when she kissed him again.

For a moment he didn’t respond. Then, like a dam shattering, al the longing he’d felt, al the loneliness he’d known, broke through. He could have pushed her away with one hand, but the ood of need deep within him wouldn’t al ow it. He knew what was right, what was proper, but he couldn’t ght her and himself. If wanting her was wrong, there could be nothing right in the world.

Twisting onto his side, he pul ed her against him and turned her kiss to re. They were no longer experimenting, but giving and taking newborn desire. They began a dance that only lovers know, a dance set to the beat of two hearts.

Her tongue matched his, sending lightning skimming in their blood. In their hunger, al the earth slipped away and there was no time, no world outside to hear, or see, or touch. There was only Liberty in his arms.

He tugged at the buttons of her blouse, needing to touch what he’d seen when he wrapped her ribs, knowing how her breast would feel in his hands even before he uncovered them.

To his surprise, she helped with the unbuttoning, pushing her shirt aside and lifting the camisole. When he hesitated, fearing he might hurt her ribs, she lay her hand atop his, guiding his movements.

He felt her sudden intake of breath when the cold air reached her chest and then the sigh when his hand covered her and began to move. “Easy now,” he whispered against her cheek. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She relaxed, leaning back, moving slightly as he stroked her.

Tobin would have given anything to have seen what he held. He could feel the perfection of her. With his hand gently circling her breast, he kissed his way across her face until he found her mouth, already open and wil ing.

He tugged her bottom lip into his mouth as his thumb brushed over the tip of her breast, then swal owed her soft cry of pleasure. She was molten in his arms, responding to his every move. He kissed her lightly, playful y, letting her need for more build before his tongue moved into her mouth and drank his l of the taste of her.

His hands on her breasts were gentle, ever aware of the bandage just below. He wanted to give her only joy tonight. Libby in his arms was a gift.

Lost in her kiss, he barely noticed her opening his shirt until she moved closer, pressing herself against his bare chest. The shock of pleasure as her warm soft skin touched his made him feel half drunk.