Brazen (33 page)

It was growing late.

The time had come.

Casey knew it.

She and Michael had to act the happily married couple
as they left the reception to spend their wedding night
together.

Casey knew what everyone would be thinking. They
would be thinking that she and Michael were blissfully in
love, but sadly she also knew that wasn't true.

The night ahead loomed dangerously before her, for
she wasn't sure what to expect. In her heart, she wanted
this to really be the perfect wedding night. She had fallen
in love with Michael, and she wanted their life together
to be one of devotion and love. Casey thought back over
the time they'd spent together and remembered his kiss from the night of the dance. It had been heavenly until
John had interrupted them.

She wanted to know the ecstasy of Michael's love.

She wanted Michael.

But Michael didn't want her. He had agreed to their
arrangement and seemed happy with the way things had
been set up.

And so, the long hours of the wedding night to come
stretched before Casey. She would be alone with Michael
in their new house in their marriage bed.

Needing to distract herself, Casey looked around for
Anne and Nick. She wanted to tell them good-bye, but
saw no sign of them anywhere in the hall. She wondered
where they'd disappeared to, but had no time to worry
about it, for Michael appeared at her side.

"The carriage has been brought around front," Michael
informed her.

"It's time for us to go?"

"Yes."

"We need to say good-bye to our parents first," she suggested, trying to delay the inevitable as long as possible.

Michael agreed, and they sought out Jack, Frank and
Elizabeth.

"Be happy," Elizabeth told them.

"We will be," Michael assured her.

"Good night, darling," Jack said, taking Casey in his
arms and holding her to his heart.

"Good night, Pa." She kissed him tenderly on the cheek,
then went to hug Elizabeth and Frank.

Before Casey knew it, they were in the carriage, waving
good-bye to everyone as they drove away.

Michael was her husband.

They were married.

They were alone.

Michael sat beside Casey in the carriage, preparing himself for the night to come.

They had an arrangement.

He'd agreed to it.

Theirs was to be a marriage in name only, and he had
to remember that, tonight and every night from now on.
He almost admitted to himself that he regretted agreeing
to her proposition. Not that it would matter. Casey had
made it clear from the start what she thought of him.
Theirs would be a peaceful coexistence, but never anything more. That was the way she wanted it.

Michael wondered why that knowledge was bothering
him so much as he drove off into the darkening night with
his beautiful bride by his side.

John was drunk, and he planned to get much drunker.
He'd deliberately gone to the Full House saloon tonight.
He hadn't wanted to see Rosalie yet, after what had
passed between them the last time they'd been together.

At the time, John had thought he'd passed out in her
bed from all the liquor he'd drunk. When he'd gotten up
in the wee hours of the morning, Rosalie had been nowhere to be found and he'd had a terrible headache.
He'd left straight for the Royal, not bothering to look for her. It had only been later, after he'd returned to the ranch
and sobered up a bit that he'd realized his savage headache had been from a lump on the back of his head and
not from liquor. Rosalie had hit him.

Women they were all stupid sluts!

At that moment, John hated all females, but Casey and
Rosalie most of all. If he could have gotten hrs hands on
either of them, he would have given her a taste of his fury.

The longer John drank at the Full House, the better the
idea sounded to him.

"Welcome home," Michael said to Casey as they pulled
up in front of their house.

"The house is wonderful, Michael," Casey complimented him.

He climbed down and helped her out. They walked up
the short path to the door. Michael opened it, then
scooped Casey up in his arms. Casey had been expecting
it, but she still gasped at his ploy. She looped her arms
around his neck to steady herself as he carried her across
the threshold. The pleasure of being in his arms ended
far too quickly as he set her on her feet and went to light
a lamp.

"What do you think?" he asked, turning to watch her
reaction to her first look around. She hadn't been there
since his mother had helped him arrange the furniture.

Casey stared around in surprise and delight. A settee
and two chairs were grouped before the stone fireplace.
A small table and chairs were set off in the kitchen area.

"It's wonderful. Thank you, Michael."

"You can thank my mother, too. She helped me get
everything ready."

"It's perfect."

"And here's the bedroom." He led the way in and lit
the lamp on the nightstand.

Casey tensed as she stopped in the doorway to stare at
the bed that dominated the room. There was only one
bedroom and one bed, just as she'd known there would
be. The settee was too small for either of them to sleep
on comfortably.

"Where are you going to sleep?" she asked, trying to
sound innocent as she posed the dreaded question.

"Right here," Michael answered. He didn't let on, but
her question annoyed him.

"If you're sleeping here, where am I going to sleep?"

"Right here with me," he answered easily.

"But..." Her nervousness was definitely showing. Did
Michael really want her? Was he ready to forsake their
arrangement and love her as she loved him? Hope blossomed within her as she looked at him. "But what about
the deal we made?"

"What about it? Just because we're sleeping in the same
bed doesn't mean anything is going to happen between
us. I gave you my word that this would be a marriage in
name only, and I plan to stick to that."

His tone was so cold and indifferent that any hope
Casey had had that things could be different was dashed.
He didn't love her, and she believed he never would. "All
right."

"I'll go see to the horses," Michael said in a flat voice,
and he left her alone.

Casey wanted to get undressed before Michael returned, so the minute he went outside, she went to find
her nightgown. She'd sent a trunk with her personal things
over a few days before, and she found her nightgown
neatly folded in one of the drawers in the bureau.

Elizabeth had had Sissy include a silken negligee with
her fancy underthings, but there was no use in wearing
that.

Michael wasn't interested.

She would wear her high-necked cotton gown.

Hastily Casey tried to shed her wedding gown. The process started off smoothly enough, but when she tried to
undo the buttons midway down her back, frustration
overwhelmed her. She was trapped in her dress. Short of
forcing it off and risking tearing it, or sleeping in it, she
was going to have to ask Michael for help.

The thought unnerved Casey. She had hoped to be in
her chaste nightgown, in bed with the covers up to her
neck, when Michael returned from the stable. She'd even
thought she could fake being asleep so she wouldn't have
to deal with the situation tonight, but now there was no
way out. Michael's hands were going to be upon her. She
shivered in anticipation, then struck the thought from her.

Michael had made it plain to her.

He didn't care.

There was nothing to worry about.

Michael took his time with the horses. He and the men
had built a small makeshift stable some distance behind
the house, and he lingered there as long as he could. The
thought of being alone in bed with Casey bothered him.

She didn't love him.

She never had and she never would.

He'd told her he would stick to their agreement, and
he planned to do just that.

He was not going to touch her or kiss her tonight.

With the horse taken care of, there was no reason to
stay away any longer. Michael started back up to the
house. He girded himself for the dark hours of the night
to come. It was going to be a long one.

What Michael expected to find when he reached the
house and what Michael got were two veiy different
things.

"Help," Casey said the minute he came through the
door. She was standing in the middle of the main room,
holding up the bodice of her gown, the back of the garment partially unfastened. "I can't reach all the buttons."

She went to him and presented her back.

Michael swallowed tightly as he stared down at her exposed flesh. "Let me wash my hands first."

He went to the sink and washed his hands in the bucket
of water there, stalling for as long as he could.

Casey appreciated his thoughtfulness. The gown was
precious and needed to be handled delicately. When
he'd finished washing and was drying his hands, she went
to him again and waited.

Michael carefully began to unfasten the small buttons. It was a tedious task at the best of times, and right then,
it proved torture to him. With every button he unfastened,
more of Casey's back was exposed to him.

True, she was wearing a chemise, but his imagination
was in good working order too good for his own peace
of mind.

A sudden unbidden image of Casey standing before
him unclothed seared through his thoughts and left him
swearing under his breath. He dropped his hands away
for a minute.

"What's wrong?" Casey asked in all innocence.

"These buttons are hard to work with," he growled.

"I know. Anne helped me get dressed, and she had
quite a time with them, too," she answered, completely
unaware of his dilemma.

Michael gritted his teeth and started again.

Casey controlled a shiver as his fingers brushed against
her through the chemise. The silken fabric only heightened the sensuality of his touch.

He continued to work at the buttons, denying his desire
to turn her around in his arms and kiss her. He offered
his self-denial up to God as a sacrifice, but the voice in
his head taunted him with But she is your wife.

Michael slaved away and finally finished. The gown
gapped open all the way to her hips. He stared down at
the sweet line of her back revealed to him there, then
lifted his gaze up to her neck.

A driving urge filled him to press a kiss to the juncture
of neck and shoulder. He told himself "no." He fought
against the desire. He knew it would lead to nothing but frustration, but he was, after all, only a mortal man.

Michael slowly bent down to her and pressed a soft
kiss to her bared shoulder at the nape of her neck.

Casey had been waiting for Michael to announce that
he'd finished unfastening her. She'd been holding herself
stiffly in spite of the touch of his hands at her back. She'd
fought against the shivers that had wracked her every time
his fingers brushed against her. She was proud of the control she was showing. She didn't want to appear weak
before him. There was no point in even thinking about
Michael that way. She might be aroused by his touch, but
he was only doing a job nothing more.

And then his lips caressed the sensitive skin of her
neck.

Casey gasped and stiffened in shock as excitement radiated through her.

Michael felt her reaction and thought she was angered
by his daring. He stepped away from her, needing to put
a distance between them.

Casey glanced over her shoulder at Michael, wondering what had prompted him to do that, but his expression
was stony and revealed nothing.

"I'll go finish changing," she said, moving toward the
bedroom.

"You do that," he growled to himself.

Michael went to the cabinet in the kitchen and took
out the bottle of whiskey he'd left there for moments such
as this. He'd known they were coming, and he'd made
sure he was prepared. After pouring himself a stiff drink,
he sat in one of the chairs before the dead fireplace. He drank slowly and deliberately. He wanted to give Casey
all the time she needed to get into bed. The last thing he
needed was to see her in any further state of undress.

Taking a deep drink of the potent liquor, Michael enjoyed its power as it burned through him.

He wanted to forget Casey's kiss.

He wanted to forget the way she'd felt in his arms when
they'd danced together.

He wanted to forget the need that burned deep within
his body.

Michael tried to think logically. He was a man. She was
a pretty woman. It was normal for him to be attracted to
her. He'd been attracted to other women in the past, and
it had never troubled him this way.

You've never been married before. Casey's your wife.

The thought haunted him.

His wife.

He was her husband.

They were going to live together forever.

In name only!

Michael gave a disgusted shake of his head and took
another drink. He tried to reason it out, but there was no
denying the truth. He desired Casey. He could accept his
feelings, but he could not act on them.

He downed the rest of his whiskey, then realized it had
gotten very quiet in the bedroom. He set the glass aside
and put out the lamp.

A lamp was still burning in the bedroom, and he
walked into the room to find Casey in bed with the blanket drawn up to her chin, her back to his side of the bed, her eyes closed. He stood there in silence, staring at her
for a long moment.

So this was to be his life his existence.

He was Adam in the Garden of Eden, and Casey was
his temptation.

Michael extinguished the lamp, stripped down to his
underwear and climbed into bed.

Michael did not know that Casey had opened her eyes
and was watching his reflection in the mirror.