Kora kissed him again. Slowly moving along his face until she brushed his lips.
This time he responded.
When she straightened and broke the kiss, he whispered, ‘‘It’s good to have you home.’’ His hand moved gently along her side. ‘‘Were you hurt?’’
‘‘No,’’ Kora answered. ‘‘I was worried about you.’’
‘‘I’m fine, now you’re here.’’ Win tugged at her belt and pulled her closer. ‘‘I never thought I needed a wife, or that I’d miss a woman, but I missed you. I didn’t like waking up and not having you near.’’
He tugged again and she sat on the arm of the chair. ‘‘Pull the drapes and lock the door. I want to use the last of my energy looking at you, not climbing the stairs.’’
‘‘But don’t you want to go to sleep?’’
‘‘I want the rest of the world to go away,’’ he grumbled. ‘‘For a few hours in our marriage, I want to see and think of nothing but you.’’
TWENTY-NINE
KORA STOOD AND CLOSED THE STUDY DOOR AND pulled the curtains. She knew he was still weak and she should probably insist he sleep, but she wanted to be alone with Win tonight.
When she returned to his chair, he motioned for her to stand between him and the fire. ‘‘I need to look at you, Kora. Do you mind?’’
‘‘No,’’ she whispered, unsure of his meaning. She didn’t know if her cheeks burned from blushing or the fire’s warmth. How could he want to look at her? Didn’t he know she’d always been invisible? She’d heard the way folks talked about some women, the way boys talked of girls. That they were pretty or beautiful, or grand. No one ever said things like that about her. They usually only commented on how they hadn’t noticed her.
He didn’t say a word as she leaned her hair back, letting the heat dry it. He just stared as she stood before him. The fire danced in his eyes as a slow smile spread across his lips.
‘‘Are you warm enough?’’ he finally whispered.
Kora felt his words were touching her somehow across the space between them. ‘‘Yes,’’ she answered.
‘‘Then take off the wrapper.’’ His voice was low, a little rough as always, but she wasn’t the least afraid.
Slowly she pulled the belt free and let the wrapper slip from her shoulders. The camisole she wore was bound at the waist by her muslin underskirt. The skirt pulled the silk tight over her breasts.
She reached behind her and pulled the ribbons of the skirt. It tumbled, joining her wrapper. Her underdrawers were damp from the rain and clung to her knees.
For a long while, Win was silent, but she could feel him watching her. Devouring her with his gaze. With the firelight behind her, he could see the outline of her body clearly through the thin clothing. His change in breathing confirmed her theory. Kora smiled and turned slowly.
Finally he offered his hand and she moved to him, sitting on the arm of his huge chair as she had before.
‘‘I’ll never get over how easy you come to me,’’ he whispered. His fingers brushed her throat as though he were touching velvet. ‘‘Even when I hurt you, you come back to me. I didn’t have to win your hand, or promise you foolish things like love. I don’t have to flatter, or give you things, or pamper you. You just come to me. You’re like a rainbow that follows my stormy life.’’
It was the first time he’d ever said such things. Kora knew it by the awkwardness in his voice.
‘‘I’d think of you all soft, but when Cheyenne came in earlier, he told me you threatened to kill Andrew Adams.’’ Win laughed. ‘‘Did you really hit him with that old rifle and threaten to slit him open with a knife?’’
‘‘I did,’’ Kora answered. ‘‘I think he was afraid of me by the time we got to the settlement. He’s probably glad to be rid of me.’’
‘‘Well, I’m glad to have you back.’’ He pulled her across his lap and kissed her as she’d wanted him to when she first got home.
Kora sighed and relaxed against him. ‘‘Am I hurting you?’’ She would have sat up, but his hand on her shoulder held her in place.
‘‘No,’’ he said. ‘‘Be still, Kora. You’re where you belong.’’
As he stroked her hair, he asked, ‘‘Do you think Andrew is a part of moving the cattle across my land?’’
‘‘No. He would be if he were smart enough, but the man has no idea that my kidnapping was just what they wanted. He thought he was just getting a wife and if he kept me around a few days I’d decide to stay.’’
‘‘And would you have?’’
Kora opened her eyes and stared at him. ‘‘No,’’ she answered. ‘‘I’d have died first. I’d have killed him if he’d tried to bed me. Just his touch made me shiver.’’
Win could hear the anger in her voice. Cheyenne might have told him the facts, but Kora provided the emotion. ‘‘Tell me every detail,’’ he asked. ‘‘From the time he kidnapped you until Cheyenne and Jamie found you. Let every detail out, and then we’ll never have to speak of it again.’’
Kora looked down. ‘‘I’m not sure I can,’’ she whispered.
‘‘Everything,’’ he answered. ‘‘You’re safe in my arms now.’’
Slowly she began to talk. She told of the pain of being tied to the chair and how Andrew slapped her. She shivered when she spoke of the way he’d grabbed her hip and tried to hurt her. Of how he demanded she promise to be still when he bedded her that night. She related meeting Rae and how the woman had helped her.
While she talked Win stroked her gently, wiping away a tear, moving his hands along her arms, silently washing away the pain.
When she finished, Win was right, she let go of the anger. She stretched and relaxed as his hands moved gently over her.
‘‘What about my touch?’’ he whispered against her ear.
‘‘I love your touch,’’ she answered.
‘‘Then, darling, I’m going to touch you tonight.’’
She wanted Win close, closer than she’d ever allowed anyone. Somehow it had always felt right to let him touch her. And tonight it felt like heaven.
Win’s fingers spread over her camisole, molding the silk to her warm flesh. Slowly he pulled the ribbons free, but he seemed in no hurry to part her garment. He ran his fingers from her throat to her waist, feeling the sides of each breast before bringing it into view.
His hands were large and rough from hard work, but the way he touched her made her feel valued and beautiful. He brushed his fingertips over the lace, pushing it slightly down until the camisole barely covered each peak. He moved the back of his fingers over her sides, sliding along the material, pressing gently so that the valley between her breasts deepened.
The firelight sparkled in his dark eyes, telling her of his pleasure as words never could. He took his time exploring her body gently so that he could touch her wherever he liked and see all he wanted. His palm slid up her leg and pushed her drawers high, then he tugged suddenly, pulling the waist until her bare skin showed and the garment clung to her hips. As he had with the top, he pushed it lower and lower, a fraction of an inch at a time.
His large hand circled her exposed abdomen, pushing the camisole higher and the underwear lower. Then he stopped, one hand at her waist, the other in her hair, and looked at her.
‘‘Do you mind this?’’ he finally asked, as if expecting her to say yes. ‘‘I’ve heard some women do.’’
‘‘No,’’ she whispered.
‘‘And if I touch you like this every night?’’
‘‘I wouldn’t object,’’ she answered as she stirred slightly in his lap, stretching, knowing the thin garments revealed more with each move. ‘‘I like it a great deal.’’
He rewarded her by sliding his fingers more boldly over her warm flesh. He cupped her head and raised her lips to his. The kiss was long and searching, leaving her lips pouty and her mouth hungry for more. He’d break the kiss to stare at her, watching her thinly covered chest rise and fall until her breathing grew regular once more. Then
