hand had. Only now the pressure was doubled. Kora moved wildly beneath him, loving the feel of him above her.
She wasn’t aware that he’d lifted her gown until she felt his knee pry her legs apart. He raised above her for a moment, and she closed her eyes against the sudden cold without him. Blindly she reached for him and pulled him to her.
His chest pressed into her breasts as his mouth covered hers with a kiss that was almost savage with need. She was vaguely aware of his hands gliding over her legs, pulling them open with rough hurried movements. He pushed into her so suddenly she felt like she’d been struck by lightning.
She jerked wildly as pain shot through her body and her scream was caught in his mouth. He pushed again and again before she could think enough to react. The ceiling began to spin as he continued, driving deeper with each advance. Passion gave way to pain. Weakly Kora began to fight, but he didn’t stop.
Finally he shoved one last time with even more force than he’d used before. He broke their kiss as he let out a sound like none she’d ever heard. A heartbeat later her scream filled his ears as completion emptied his body of all energy.
Winter rolled to his side. He reached for her, but she rolled away. For a few breaths he couldn’t think of anything but how wonderful it had felt to be inside her. Then her soft crying reached his passion-drugged mind.
Lifting to one elbow, he looked at her. Kora was curled in a ball, pulling the covers around her as she cried.
‘‘Kora,’’ he whispered. ‘‘Kora, are you all right?’’
She didn’t answer. He didn’t even think she heard him. When he touched her shoulder, she pulled away.
Then he saw it. Blood. A spot on the blanket and another on the back of her gown.
Winter fell back and swore to the heavens. A virgin! Of course she’d been a virgin. Andrews hadn’t even known her until Win said her name; how could the man have slept with her? No other man had ever kissed Kora, much less touched her.
She’d come to him a virgin, and he’d taken her like she was a whore.
NINETEEN
WINTER STOOD AND PULLED ON HIS JEANS. ALL HIS life he’d thought of himself as strong and hard. He’d work hours longer than any man and was justly proud of what he accomplished. He’d stand to the death for something he believed in. He never backed down when he knew he was right.
But tonight for the first time, Winter hated himself. He hated himself more than he’d ever hated anyone since he’d learned Custer’s soldiers killed his mother.
He walked over to the pitcher of water on his washstand. Grabbing his discarded shirt, he soaked it in cold water and crossed back to Kora.
She didn’t move when he knelt on the floor beside her. The sound of her crying ripped his heart apart.
‘‘Kora?’’ he whispered as he gently touched her cheek.
To his surprise she didn’t pull away, but seemed frozen in place. Maybe she figured he’d done as much damage as he possibly could for one night. She stared up, but didn’t seem to see him.
He brushed her hair out of her face and saw the bruises already beginning along her throat where he’d tasted her flesh. He hadn’t meant to leave passion marks on her, but the proof was clear.
Winter swore to himself. He’d have killed any man for doing this to her. He’d never seen such marks on respectable women, only on those who liked to be passed around. ‘‘I’m sorry’’ was too lame an excuse for what he’d done. ‘‘I’m sorry’’ wasn’t even worth voicing.
She didn’t move as he slowly pulled the covers away. He wasn’t sure if she was too afraid to react or if she’d lost all feeling.
Her gown was still at her waist. With shaking hands, he wiped the blood away from her thigh, then placed the wet shirt between her legs, hoping to cool any more pain. He gently pulled her gown down and wrapped her in the quilts. She’d stopped crying and her eyes were closed, but he doubted she was asleep.
He lifted her in his arms and carried her to bed. Before he lowered her, he buried his face in her hair and fought down a curse. Her unvoiced cry rocked through him all the way to his soul. He’d crushed the only gentleness that had ever come into his life.
‘‘Kora?’’ he whispered from above her, wishing she’d say something, anything, but she didn’t answer.
Win felt so helpless. He wanted to lie down next to her and hold her all night, but her scream haunted his mind. It had been a cry of pure terror. He knew she wouldn’t welcome him near tonight or probably any night for the rest of their time together. From this point on she’d count the days until she was on the train to California.
He paced the room for a few minutes, then went downstairs. Maybe if she took a little brandy she could sleep? Maybe tomorrow the pain wouldn’t be so bad? Maybe she’d not hate him? He’d swear never to touch her again. It had been hard never reaching for her before tonight, but after what they’d shared, it would be torture.
She’d felt so good in his arms. She’d been so soft and willing, she trusted him completely. Until the last. Until she’d screamed.
He reached the study and was headed back to the stairs when he thought of tea. Kora always liked to drink a hot cup of tea each night. He’d watched her pass the study, carrying it to bed with her. But tonight they hadn’t stopped in the kitchen on their way to the bedroom.
Win had little idea how to make tea. He boiled some water and scalded his fingers pouring it into a cup. He misjudged how many tea leaves to drop in and frowned when the liquid turned to mud. With the cup in one hand and the brandy in the other, he started back through the darkness toward the stairs.
At the second-floor landing Jamie stepped in his path, making him splash tea onto his hand for the second time.
‘‘What are you doing up at this hour?’’ she demanded as if she were the night watchman.
‘‘I was getting Kora a cup of tea and myself a drink.’’ Win tried to sound calm.
‘‘Something wake you up, too?’’ Jamie leaned on her door frame. ‘‘I was sound asleep and swear I heard a scream.’’
Win was glad it was dark. ‘‘I heard it, too.’’ A lie wouldn’t set easy on him.
Jamie shrugged. ‘‘I looked around but didn’t find anything amiss. I figure it must have been one of those wounded men. Doc’s got them pretty full of pain medicine. I checked on them, but they were both sleeping like babies by the time I got my buckskins on.’’
Win didn’t answer. He shifted, waiting for her to move out of his way.
‘‘Kora’s all right, isn’t she?’’ Jamie asked suddenly. ‘‘It’s not like her to let someone else wait on her.’’
‘‘I wanted to.’’ Win fought the knowledge that Kora wasn’t all right and it was his fault.
‘‘You’d better be good to her,’’ Jamie began.
‘‘I know!’’ Win snapped. ‘‘Or you’ll cut me up in little pieces.’’ He might as well buy her a good knife, because when Kora woke up in the morning, Jamie was bound to find out how cruel he’d been.
‘‘Well, getting her tea is a start in the right direction, cowboy.’’ Jamie disappeared in her room. ‘‘Night!’’ she yelled just as the door closed.
Win walked up the next flight of stairs and across to the bed. First he lit the lamp, then laced the tea with a good portion of brandy. Kora was silent now, but he guessed she wasn’t asleep.
‘‘Kora,’’ he whispered as he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her, blankets and all, toward him.
He could feel her stiffen, but she didn’t answer.
‘‘Drink this, darling,’’ he whispered as he cradled her beneath his arm.
She had a death grip on the covers around her, so he touched the cup to her lips. Even in the shadowy light he could tell her lips were swollen slightly.
She made a face as she drank, but she swallowed half the cup of tea. The warm liquid seemed to help her body relax slightly. A thousand apologies came to Winter, but he didn’t know where to start.
