The Cowboy's Gamble: Destined For Love Series (13 page)

Seth stepped into Josie’s bedroom after making sure Kellie was in bed and asleep, his gaze drawn to the woman sitting at the vanity brushing her long hair. The light from the lamp on the night stand shimmered off those curly strands, giving her hair a burnished, fiery luster he longed to sink his fingers into.

He closed the door, locked it, and moved purposefully toward her. She ignored him and continued with her chore. Setting the brush on the table in front of her, she separated her hair into three thick strands and began twisting them into a tight braid.

“Leave it down,” he said, coming to stand behind her. It wasn’t an order, but a polite request.

Finally, her gaze lifted, meeting his in the mirror above her vanity. She didn’t stop the quick movements of her hands and fingers weaving the strands to her whim. “My hair is prone to tangles, especially when I’m sleeping,” was her flat response.

He never thought she’d make tonight easy on him, knew she’d do her damnedest to defy him, but he wasn’t about to let her thwart him. Not in the bedroom.

“Don’t waste your energy on this fight, Josie,” he said meaningfully. “I want your hair down.” This time, his tone was demanding enough to make her glare at him with fire in her eyes.

Pushing her hands away, he used his fingers to comb through the silky strands. Her hair was warm, thick and luxurious. The curly tresses clung to his fingers, and slid sinuously over his hands. His body quickened, making him realize just how much he wanted her. How anxious he was to have her.

Still standing behind her, he took off his Stetson and set it on her vanity, boldly claiming his right to be in her bedroom. In her life. As husband and lover. Then he pulled his t-shirt from the waistband of his jeans, drew it up and over his head, and tossed it aside, leaving his chest bare.

She watched him in the mirror, more out of rebellion than any compelling urge to see him strip off his clothes, he was certain. He unfastened the buckle cinched at his waist, slowly slid the strip of leather through the jean’s loopholes and placed the belt next to his hat. Still her gaze remained cool and distant.

Allowing a slow, wicked smile to claim his lips, he popped free the top button of his jeans. Her breath caught at his brazenness, and her fair complexion flushed with indignation. Or maybe excitement, he mused.

Satisfied that he’d finally gotten a real feminine reaction out of her, he spared her the immediate embarrassment of him stripping off his pants and her seeing the full effect she had on him. He was fully aroused, and he’d yet to do any of the things to her he’d fantasized about all day long.

Moving to the large four poster bed, he sat on the edge of the mattress. “Come here, bride,” he said, softening the command with a charming smile. “I need your help to take off my boots.”

The searing look she shot him told him what she thought he could do with those boots of his. “Can’t you take them off yourself?”

Bracing his hands behind him on the bed, he reclined casually. “Oh, I’ve managed just fine for the past twenty-nine years. I just thought this would be more fun.”

Her gaze narrowed skeptically. “You have a warped sense of what a person considers ‘fun’.”

“Aw, c’mon, Josie, darlin’. Don’t be such a stick in the mud.” Unable to resist goading her, he added, “It’s not like I’m asking you to get naked.” Not yet, at least, he thought.

With an audible, perturbed hrmph, she accepted his challenge and stood, giving him his first full-length glimpse of what she was wearing. He blinked. Twice. Then he frowned.

The ugly, unflattering gown she wore engulfed her entire body, concealing everything feminine about her, from the lush swells of her breasts, to the sweet curve of her waist and hips, to the sleek line of her thighs and legs. And she was even wearing socks, for crying out loud!

He didn’t know whether to laugh, or be irritated. “Flannel?” he questioned incredulously.

She gradually approached him. The long gown swirled around her ankles and billowed around her slender form like a too large burlap bag. “What’s wrong with flannel?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, it’s the middle of summer.” His tone was openly sarcastic. “Not to mention our wedding night.”

Stopping beside the bed where he was sitting, she lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “It’s soft and comfortable.”

He gaze flickered down the length of her. “It’s hideous.”

A feline-like smile curved the corner of her mouth. “That’s an added bonus, too.”

He chuckled, unable to help himself. Did she honestly think an uncomely flannel nightgown would stop him from making love to her? In his estimation, she wouldn’t be wearing the garment for long, so it didn’t really matter what it looked like at all.

He crooked his finger at her. “C’mere, so we can get my boots off,” he suggested easily, and maneuvered her so she was standing in front of him, her back to him. “The way to get the best leverage is to let me put my leg between yours and you grab the heel of the boot. One good hard tug and it should slip right off.”

She stiffened when he wedged his leg between hers, offering her his boot, but she didn’t complain or back down. The hem of her gown lifted with his leg, giving him a fascinating view of her limbs to her shapely thighs. Giving into temptation, he leaned forward and caressed that silky skin.

She sucked in a sharp breath, jumped forward out of his reach, then twisted around to scowl at him. “Keep your hands to yourself, O’Conner.”

He affected an innocent, little boy expression and held his hands up at his sides. “Okay, darlin’,” he drawled, knowing there would be plenty of time for touching later. But first, he needed to get Josie to relax and loosen up. “Give my boot your best effort.”

With an admonishing look not to further distract her, she turned back to her task. He flexed his foot when she yanked, and the boot slid off. She repeated the process with his other boot, then quickly moved away from him, shaking out the voluminous skirt of her gown until it covered her modestly again.

He pulled off both of his socks and put them with his boots. “Now how ‘bout you take off your nightgown?”

“I prefer to keep it on,” she said, moving around the bed to the other side.

He stood, facing her from across the wide mattress they would share, and jammed his hands on his hips. He refused to get mad with her tonight, no matter how much she prodded him. “Josie, sweetheart,” he said, his tone soft and infinitely patient. “Either you take off the nightgown, or I’ll do it for you. One way or another, it’s coming off.”

Her answer was to pull back the spread and blanket on her side of the bed, slide in between the covers, and yank them up to her chin.

Stubborn woman, he thought, blowing out a harsh breath. Fine, two could play her game. Unzipping his jeans, he hooked his fingers into the waistband and pushed the heavy material down his legs. Leaving his briefs on for now, he joined her and moved close. In one swift move he tossed the spread and sheet down to her sock-clad toes.

Her mouth pursed, but she didn’t scramble for the covers. “Could you turn off the light, please?” she asked primly.

Bracing himself on a forearm, he stared down at her. “I prefer to keep it on,” he said, mocking her by repeating her own words.

She opened her mouth to protest, and he pressed his fingers to her lips. They were soft and damp and he couldn’t wait to taste them. “Don’t argue, Josie. If you insist on keeping the gown on, then I insist that the light stays on.” He lifted a dark brow. “Care to change your mind?”

“No,” she said, the one word vibrating against his fingertips.

The resolute emotions he saw radiating in the depths of her eyes should have put him on alert, but he was confident that just like the day he’d kissed her in the kitchen, he could make her want him again. Despite everything that had happened in the past, despite everything that stood in the way of their future, there was a chemistry between them that burned like wildfire when they touched. He wanted to loose himself in that heat, and he wanted her to be with him all the way when he did so.

He slid his fingers from her mouth and along her cheek, savoring the satiny texture of her skin, then buried his hand into her warm, vibrant hair until his palm cupped the back of her head. Her lashes fluttered closed, and she lay unresponsive and slack. The one arm nearest him was pressed against her side and his chest, and the other was crooked so her hand rested by the side of her face. Her fingers curled slightly inward, giving the impression that she was totally relaxed. Asleep even.

He knew better. She was attempting to feign disinterest, and that was something he wouldn’t tolerate when he knew just how responsive she could be. He lowered his head, settling his mouth over hers in a soft, gentle kiss. She didn’t resist his advance, but neither did she participate. He added a subtle pressure, and her lips automatically parted to receive his tongue, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He swirled, dipped and cajoled, but she didn’t join in on the seductive foray, just let him have his way with her mouth. He could have been sucking on a peach for all the involvement she put forth.

He lifted his head and stared down at her impassive face. Her restraint was admirable, and annoying as hell. It also spurred him to ruthless measures. Keeping his fingers tangled in her hair, he continued to kiss her, the slow, deep, intimate kind designed to entice and arouse. He slid his open mouth along her jaw, her neck, tasting his way to the sensitive spot just below her ear.

He thought he felt a shiver ripple through her, but couldn’t be sure since she showed no outward enjoyment of his seduction. But she would, of that he was certain.

He distracted her with gentle love bites along her throat while deftly unbuttoning the front of her gown to her waist. He slid his hand inside the opening over her collar bone, skimmed slowly downward, and heard a sharp, surprised gasp catch in her throat.

He lifted his head and smiled at the tight clench of her jaw. Ah, his bride wasn’t as indifferent as she tried to let on. Stroking his palm along her warmed skin, he parted the flannel, exposing one plump breast that swelled and tightened as he watched. He rasped his thump over the tip, and it instantly hardened. Unable to stop the deep, needy groan rumbling in his chest, he dipped his head and nuzzled the fragrant hollow between her breasts, dragged his open mouth along one slope and drew a taut nipple into the hot, wet depths of his mouth.

The hand at the side of her head curled into a tight fist, and her breathing deepened, making her chest rise and fall rapidly. Still she didn’t move, didn’t touch him, didn’t respond the way a woman should when her body was so obviously in tune to her lover’s. Her expression remained emotionless.

The first stirring of discontent gripped him, but he refused to admit defeat so early. “You’re so determined not to enjoy this, aren’t you, Josie?” he rasped mockingly.

She didn’t answer, but he didn’t really expect her to. She’d managed to withdraw mentally from the situation, but he took a little satisfaction in the fact that she hadn’t been able to shut down her physical response to him.

Taking advantage of that one small concession, he purposefully moved his hand over her flannel-clad hip, down to her thigh and slowly dragged the hem of her gown upward until he had the material bunched around her waist.

He’d managed to unveil most of her body, baring her lush breasts and the sleek length of her hips, thighs and legs. He smiled grimly. She could issue no justifiable protest of his indiscreet actions, either; she was still wearing the blasted gown!

He realized he would have welcomed the verbal sparring over her complacent behavior.

He brushed his fingers over her flat belly, and her flesh quivered beneath his touch. Pleased with that small victory, he lifted his gaze to her face to watch for an emotional response and leisurely trailed his fingers lower. Tracing the edge of her cotton panties around to her hip, he slipped his hand inside the elastic band and glided his warm palm over her smooth bottom. He gave the flesh a gentle, kneading squeeze.

She bit her bottom lip, and the pulse at the base of her throat thrummed wildly.

He gritted his teeth, his irritation mounting. Shifting closer, he pushed his hard thigh between hers, making her legs part to make room for him, though he didn’t move completely over her. Lifting one of her legs over his hip, he added a rhythmic pressure to that sensitive, feminine haven. Slow and easy he rocked against her, mimicking the motions of a more intimate joining. Desire coiled low in his belly, and he grew impossibly hard with wanting her.

She arched toward him subtly and whimpered, then valiantly swallowed back the sound.

He swore, at her, at himself, and the situation.

He didn’t want a wife who merely accommodated him for the sake of appeasing his more baser needs. He wanted Josie to ache like he ached. He wanted her to be as uninhibited as she’d been eleven years ago, holding nothing back. As selfish as it was, he wanted all the passion he knew she was capable of giving. All of her heat. All her desire. Unconditionally. Freely. Openly. And until he had her on equal terms, needing him as much as he needed her, he didn’t want her at all.

A low growl of frustration rumbled in his chest, and he pushed himself onto his back and rested a forearm over his eyes, breathing slow, steadying breaths in an attempt to cool his erection and his temper. The longer he laid there and contemplated the situation, though, the angrier he became. He’d been gentle, and willing to give Josie every pleasure, and she’d outright rejected him.

Abruptly, he rolled back onto his arm so his body was pressed against hers, so she could feel the hard, unmistakable evidence of his desire. Taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger, he turned her head toward his.

“I know you’re not sleeping, Josie, so open your eyes,” he said with a forced calm, though his voice was laced with enough steel that she obeyed.

Her lashes drifted open, her eyes a bright shade of green. “What?” she questioned softly, as if she were the injured party in this debacle of a wedding night.

Her demure act made him even more furious, and he managed, just barely, to hold his escalating temper in check. “I’ve never had to force you to make love before, and I’m not about to start now. You won this round, Josie, but tonight is nothing but a brief reprieve. We
will
make love, and the next time I’ll expect your full cooperation.”