and dug in.
Then she was running, racing, speeding, toward something unknown, something urgently desired. Like life. Like breath. Like love. Instinct had her hips moving. Joy had her arms embracing.
She lost her innocence in a wild burst of pleasure that echoed endlessly.
The moonlight slanted across her face as she slept. He watched her. Though his body craved sleep, his mind couldn’t rest. She looked almost too beautiful to be real, curled into the hay, her hair spread out, her skin glowing, covered by nothing more than the thin velvet ribbon around her neck.
He’d recognized the passion in her from the beginning. He had suppressed his own for too long not to recognize it when it was suppressed in another. She’d come to him openly, honestly, innocently. And of all the sins he’d ever committed, the greatest had been taking that innocence from her.
He’d had no right. He pressed his fingers against his eyes. He’d had no choice. The kind of need he’d felt for her-still felt, he realized-left no choice. He was in love with her. He nearly laughed out loud. That kind of thinking was dangerous. Dangerous to Sarah. The things he loved always seemed to end up dead, destroyed. His gaze shifted. Her dress was bundled in a heap near her feet. On the pale silk lay his gunbelt.
That said it all, Jake decided. He and Sarah didn’t belong together any more than his Colts and her silk dress did. He didn’t belong with anyone.
He shifted, started to rise, but Sarah stirred and reached for his hand. “Jake.”
“Yeah.” Just the way she said his name made desire quicken in him.
Slowly, a smile curving her lips, she opened her eyes. She hadn’t been dreaming, she thought. He was here, with her. She could smell the hay, feel it. She could see the glint of his eyes in the shadowed light. Her smile faded.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Turning away, he reached for his pants.
“Why are you angry?”
“I’m not angry.” He yanked his pants over his hips as he rose. “Why the hell should I be angry?”
“I don’t know.” She was determined to be calm.
Nothing as beautiful as what had happened between them was going to be spoiled by harsh words. She found her chemise, noted that one shoulder strap was torn and slipped it on. “Are you going somewhere?” He picked up his gunbelt because it troubled him to see it with her things. “I don’t think I’d care to walk back to town, and Lucius has my horse.”
“I see. Is that the only reason you’re staying?” He turned, ready to swear at her. She was standing very straight, her hair drifting like clouds around her face and shoulders. Her chemise skimmed her thighs and dipped erotically low at one breast. Because his mouth had gone dry, he could only shake his head.
She smiled then, and held out a hand. “Come to the house with me. Stay with me.”
It seemed he still had no choice. He closed his hand over hers.
Sarah awoke with Lafitte licking her face. “Go away,” she muttered, and turned over.
“You asked me to stay.” Jake hooked an arm around her waist. He watched her eyes fly open, saw the shock, the remembering and the pleasure.
“I was talking to the dog.” She snuggled closer. Surely there was no more wonderful way to wake up than in the arms of the man you loved. “He figured out how to climb up, but he hasn’t figured out how to get down.”
Jake leaned over to pat Lafitte’s head. “Jump,” he said, then rolled Sarah on top of him.
“Is it morning?”
“Nope.” He slid a hand up to cup her breast as he kissed her.
“But the sun’s up-Oh…” It dimmed as his hands moved over her.
Day. Night. Summer. Winter. What did time matter? He was here, with her, taking her back to all those wonderful places he had shown her. She went willingly at dawn, as she had on the blanket of hay and then again and again on the narrow cot as the moon had set.
He taught her everything a woman could know about the pleasures of love, about needs stirred and needs met. He showed her what it was like to love like lightning and thunder. And he showed her what it was to love like soft rain. She learned that desire could be a pain, burning hot through the blood. She learned it could be a joy, rushing sweet under the skin. But, though she was still unaware of it, she taught him much more, taught him that there could be beauty, and comfort, and hope.
They came together with the sun rising higher and the heat of the day chasing behind it.
Later, when she was alone in the cabin, Sarah cooled and bathed her skin. This was how it could be, she thought dreamily. Early every morning she would heat the coffee while he fed the stock and fetched fresh water from the stream. She would cook for him and tend the house. Together they would make something out of the land, out of their lives. Something good and fine.
They would start a family. She pressed a hand lightly against her stomach and wondered if one had already begun. What a beautiful way to make a child, she thought, running her fingers over her damp skin. What a perfect way.
She caught herself blushing and patted her skin dry. It wasn’t right to think that way, not when they weren’t married. Not when he hadn’t even asked her. Would he? Sarah slipped on her shirtwaist and buttoned it quickly. Hadn’t she herself said he wasn’t the kind of man who thought of marriage?
And yet… Could he love her the way he had loved her and not want to spend his life with her?
What had Mrs. O’Rourke said? Sarah thought back as she finished dressing. It had been something about a smart woman bringing a man around to marriage and making him think it had been his idea all along. With a light laugh, she turned toward the stove. She considered herself a very smart woman.
“Something funny?”
She glanced around as Jake walked in. “No, not really. I guess I’m just happy.”
He set a basket of eggs on the table. “I haven’t gathered eggs since my mother-for a long time.” As casually as she could, she took the eggs and started preparations for breakfast. “Did your mother have chickens when you were a boy?”
“Yeah. Is that coffee hot?”
“Sit down. I’ll pour you some.”
He didn’t want to talk about his past, she decided. Perhaps the time wasn’t right. Yet.
“I was able to get a slab of bacon from Mr. Cobb.” She sliced it competently while the pan heated. “I’ve thought about getting a few pigs. Lucius is going to grumble when I ask him to build a sty, but I don’t think he’d complain about eating ham. I don’t suppose you know anything about raising pigs?”
Would you listen to her? Jake thought as he tilted back in her chair. The duchess from Philadelphia talking about raising pigs. “You deserve better,” he heard himself say.
The bacon sizzled as she poured the coffee. “Better than what?”
“Than this place. Why don’t you go back east, Sarah, and live like you were meant to?”
She brought the cup to him. “Is that what you want, Jake? You want me to go?”
“It’s not a matter of what I want.”
She stood beside him, looking down. “I’d like to hear what you want.”
Their eyes held. He’d had some time to think, and think clearly. But nothing seemed clear enough when he looked at her. “Coffee,” he said, taking the cup. “Your wants are admirably simple. Take your hat off at my table.” She snatched it off his head and set it aside.
He just grinned, running a hand through his hair.
“Yes, ma’am. Good coffee, Duchess.”
“It’s nice to know I do something that pleases you.” She let out a yelp when he grabbed her from behind and spun her around.
“You do a lot that pleases me.” He kissed her, hard and long. “A whole lot.”
“Really?” She tried to keep her tone aloof, but her arms had already wound around his neck. “A pity I can’t say the same.”
“I guess that was some other woman who had her hands all over me last night.” Her laugh was muffled against his lips. “I brought your things over from the shed. Dress is a little worse for wear. Four petticoats.” He nipped her earlobe. “I hope you don’t pile that many on every day around here.”
