Denim and Lace (25 page)

She hid her face in his throat. “I thought men always enjoyed it with women.”

“In different degrees,” he said quietly. He smoothed her hair. “You give me something I've never had before.” His chest rose and fell heavily. “You give me peace, Bess.”

What an odd way to put it, she thought, frowning. She stared across his broad, hairy chest. “I don't understand.”

“Don't you?” He took another draw from the cigarette and shifted so that he could see her face on his bare shoulder. “You fulfill me completely,” he said. “Until now that's never happened. It takes trust to feel that kind of satisfaction with another person. You have to give up control, to let go of all your inhibitions, your fears of letting your feelings show. At no other time is a man quite as vulnerable as in the throes of passion.” He brushed his mouth over her temple. “Until tonight I've never relinquished control completely. I gave myself to you as surely as you gave your body to me.”

She closed her eyes and smiled. “Oh.” Her lips pressed soft, lazy kisses against his bare chest, and she felt the flat nipple suddenly go hard under her mouth. Frowning curiously, she lifted her head and looked at it.

“Yours do that when I kiss them,” he pointed out.

She felt her cheeks go hot. “Yes, but I didn't know that yours would.”

His eyes twinkled. “Surprise, surprise. And it's not the only thing that stands—”

She hit him. “You wicked man! Everything I've heard about you men is true, that you love to shock women, that you just spend time thinking up embarrassing things to say...!”

“It's delicious,” he said huskily. He put out the cigarette and threw her down on the bed with tender ferocity, looming over her with eyes that blazed with emotion. “Delicious, watching you blush, seeing you color. Most women these days are so damned blasé about sex, they make it as exciting as a drink of water. You get embarrassed when I talk to you like that, you blush when I look at you and you go up in flames every time I touch you. My God, I've never felt more like a man in my life than I do with you! Experience be damned, I'm so proud, I could strut.” He bent and put his mouth hungrily on hers. “Even if it is a double standard,” he murmured huskily, “it's sweet hell to put my hands on you and know that no other man ever has. If that sounds chauvinistic, I don't care.”

She lifted her arms around him and held on. “There was never anyone I wanted but you,” she whispered. “There never could be. It would be sacrilege to even let another man kiss me after you...!”

The emotion in her voice sent his heart spinning. He kissed her with aching hunger and eased down onto her, shivering with kindling need. “Is it too soon?” he whispered roughly. “I don't want to hurt you.”

“You won't hurt me,” she whispered back. “Oh, come here.” She groaned, holding him. “I want you so!”

He cradled her under him and bent to her soft mouth. He wanted to love her so tenderly that she'd never get over the memory of it. Slowly, gently, he brought her body up to his, joined with it, curled his legs around her drawn-up knees so that they were in a position he'd never shared with a woman, curled together like shells. And that way he loved her, cherished her body with his in such a slow, tender lovemaking that she wept helplessly all through it, blinded by soft kisses and tender Spanish words in her ear and hands that were slow and sure. There was nothing fierce about it, nothing urgent until the final few seconds, when the feeling spiraled up into the night and broke past her lips in a sound that was more shattering moan than cry.

She shivered and felt him shiver as the exquisite pleasure rippled along their tightly joined bodies, silver-bright, petal-soft, in gentle explosions that went on and on and on.

He whispered her name in the midst of his satisfaction, his voice shaking like his powerful body. But there had been no violent urgency, nothing except the tenderness of two souls entwining.

“That...was loving,” he whispered, his voice as shaken as his body. “My... God! My God!”

She heard reverence in his faint exclamations and repeated them in her mind. There couldn't have been that kind of pleasure without an intensity of feeling on both sides. It was then that she knew he was in love with her. It wasn't desire alone, as she thought it had been the first time. Then, he'd wanted her and lost control. But just now, that wasn't desire alone. She'd never imagined Cade giving that kind of tenderness to her, and she wept for the beauty and joy of being his wife.

“Don't cry,” he whispered, kissing the tears away. “Don't. It was so beautiful.”

“Yes. That's why,” she whispered. Her eyes looked into his, seeing him only as a faint blur. “I love you so much...!” Her voice broke and her trembling arms encircled his neck as she hid her face against his damp throat. “I want to give you a child more than anything in the world.” She did, but saying it aloud only tormented her and she cried more.

He didn't understand her emotional state, unless his lovemaking had shattered her. Probably it had, because it had certainly shattered him. He'd given and received more than ever before in his life. His hands soothed her, cradled her. He couldn't seem to make his body leave hers, though, and they were still in the same position they'd shared during that exquisite loving.

“We're still part of each other,” he whispered. His eyes closed as he held her. “I can't...quite get enough of this closeness. Do you want me to move?”

“No,” she said. “Oh, no, not ever.”

“Do you feel it, too?” he asked, lifting his head, searching her soft eyes. “The...oneness.”

“Yes.” She touched his face with trembling fingers, adoring it, worshipping its hard lines and stark strength. “Kiss me.”

He bent and put his mouth on hers. Incredibly his body hardened. He gasped, and her eyes opened. She lifted her arms, offering herself.

“You won't hurt me,” she promised when he hesitated. She closed her eyes and stretched up toward him with the first stirrings of her own femininity. “Cade, put your mouth on me...!” she pleaded, offering her breasts.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

S
INCE
B
ESS
HAD
been given the rest of the week off for a brief honeymoon, Cade put her in the truck and carried her, bag and baggage, to Lariat the next morning. The quicker she got used to living there, the better, he told her.

She was nervous about the move. She hated her own anxieties. She liked his mother and brothers and she'd enjoyed her stay at the ranch when she'd come out of the hospital. But that had been different. She'd been an invalid, and Cade had been distant. Now they were close and it would show, and she didn't know if she could stand much teasing from Robert and Gary. Everything would be different. And at night she was going to be inhibited, because Cade's bedroom was right across the hall from Robert's.

He glanced at her disturbed expression. “What's wrong, honey?” he asked gently.

She turned toward him. “Just nervous, I guess,” she said softly. Her loving eyes paused on his hard face. He looked more relaxed than she'd seen him in years, and the memory of the night before was there in his dark eyes as they briefly met hers.

He reached out a hand and caught hers, holding it in a strong clasp as he drove down the long highway out of San Antonio. It was a beautiful summer day, hot and airy. Everything was green and lazy out the windows of the old pickup truck.

“There's nothing to worry about,” he assured her. “You're family now.”

“Yes, but...” She gnawed her lower lip and frowned.

“But what?”

She sighed. “Robert's room is just across the hall from yours...”

“Oh. Yes, I see. And Gary's is next door. And you and I are noisy when we make love, aren't we?” he added with a slow, knowing look.

She lowered her eyes while her heart cut cartwheels in her chest. “Yes,” she whispered, smiling shyly.

“Then let me surprise you, Mrs. Hollister, by telling you that we are now located downstairs in the old master bedroom, away from everyone.” He grinned, glancing at her relieved face. “Not that it's going to matter tonight,” he murmured dryly. “After what we did last night, I doubt if either of us is in any condition for protracted lovemaking.”

That was true, she thought. It had been morning before they finally slept, and she was a little uncomfortable even now.

“You're very thoughtful,” she said.

“I care about you, cupcake,” he returned easily. His fingers curled closer into hers as they rode down the long, sparsely settled road, seeing hardly any cars on the way. “Are you happy?”

“Happier than I ever dreamed of being,” she said honestly. She ran her fingers over his long ones, enjoying their strength. Just to be allowed to touch him was a thrill. “Your hands are very dark,” she remarked.

“Comanche blood,” he reminded her, smiling. “Our kids will have some Comanche heritage from my side of the family and some Scotch-Irish from yours.”

She stared at his hand, forcing her face not to give anything away. “Yes.” She looked to the windshield. “You're sure you want me to give up the apartment?” she asked.

“Why not? There isn't much point in keeping it when we'll be living at Lariat and you'll be commuting. I don't want you away from me at night, Bess,” he added firmly. “I'll want you to sleep in my arms even if we don't have each other every night.”

She felt her body melting at the thought. This morning she'd curled up against him and slept as she'd never slept in her life, close and warm in his arms, against his bare flesh. It was an experience she couldn't wait to repeat.

“Yes, I want that, too,” she said softly.

His fingers tightened quickly around hers before he let go of them to light a cigarette. “I'll have to teach you the cattle business, society girl,” he teased in a deep and sensual voice. “You've got a lot to learn about ranches.”

“And about you,” she added. “I used to be so afraid of you,” she recalled. “Nervous and shy and shaky with longing, all at once. I love looking at you, Cade. Do you mind?”

He glanced at her again, his eyes running down the green linen dress that clung so attractively to her figure. “No,” he said. “I like looking at you, too.”

She leaned back against the seat with a long sigh. “Everything is new,” she murmured. “Beautiful and bright. I've been so alone all my life, until now.”

He felt that way, too. As if his past was one long emptiness because Bess hadn't been part of him. She was now, and the longing for her grew with each passing day. Instead of satisfying his hunger, being with her increased it. He was bound to her in ways he'd never thought a woman could tie him. Bonded. He sighed, worrying about his independence. Marriage had been a big step for him, but he'd been afraid of losing Bess. And after that afternoon in his bed he hadn't been able to think of anything except how exquisite she looked without her clothes on. Maybe those weren't the best reasons for marriage, and he couldn't deny that her society background had influenced him somewhat in the decision. But she was getting to him, really getting to him. She was under his skin, in his bloodstream, in his mind. He felt as if he was losing control. She loved him, but if she ever had a mind to hurt him and his feelings for her went as deep as he was beginning to suspect they went, things could get complicated. For the first time he felt a faint apprehension. As long as only his body had been involved, it hadn't bothered him. Now his heart was gathering her in, and that did.

She saw his sudden frown and wondered about it. Probably he was wondering as she was about the family's reaction to their arrival, she told herself. Surely that was all.

“I still have my things to get out of the apartment,” she pointed out.

“I'll send some of the boys up tomorrow to take care of it,” he said easily. “And we'll send Senora Lopez some of the wedding cake Mama was baking for you when I called this morning.”

“Oh, how sweet of her!” she burst out.

“She thinks you're pretty sweet, too, honey.” He lifted his cigarette to his lips. “I've been pretty busy lately, but I'll make time to take you around and show you how things work on Lariat.” He looked at her possessively. “We'll have a good life together.”

“We still haven't talked about my salary going into the family budget.”

“We will. That and the other finances. Things are going to be tight, but we'll make it.”

She could believe that. Cade was a magician with money. It would work out, she told herself.

Elise was waiting at the door. She hugged Bess and stood aside so that Gussie could come forward to do the same.

“I hope you don't mind.” Gussie grinned. “Elise and I thought a little celebration was in order.”

“No, we don't mind,” Cade returned, pulling Bess closer as Robert and Gary and Gary's fiancée, Jennifer, came into the room. They all hugged her, too, and finally they settled down to cake and coffee while Gussie took pictures of the couple for the family album.

It seemed like a happy gathering. But Bess couldn't help noticing how withdrawn Cade became as the afternoon wore on. He listened instead of talked, and when one of the men came to ask him something about ranch business, he got up and left the room, looking as if he was grateful for the excuse.

Bess started worrying then. As time went by, she worried more. Because she was too uncomfortable to make love with Cade, the distance grew. He slept with her at night, but with his back to her, and they spent their time talking. He explained the cattle business to her, but she'd rather have heard sweet nothings and endearments. He acted as if her presence was trying, and she couldn't help thinking that he felt that way. Perhaps he'd had a different idea about marriage, and the reality was distasteful to him. Whatever the reason, Bess felt him slipping away from her.

Saturday night the boys had dates, and Elise went to a party for one of the women at her church. Bess and Cade were alone, but he was locked in his study with the books and she was watching television. This was ridiculous, she told herself. They were acting as if they'd already been married for years, yet they were on their honeymoon.

With an angry sigh, she got up and padded into the study on bare feet to see what he was doing. Her hair was loose, her yellow blouse highlighting her honey-brown hair as it waved toward her flushed face. Her jeans were tight, and Cade's eyes followed her long legs.

He felt irritated that she'd come looking for him, when he was doing his best to put some distance between them. He was finding marriage more disturbing than he'd expected, and his loss of freedom had begun to wear on him. Bess was lovely, and he wanted her for plenty of reasons. But he needed a little time to adjust to their new relationship, and she seemed determined to crowd him. He'd hoped that she'd get the idea when he pulled back, but she hadn't. He didn't want to come out and tell her to back off, but his temper was kindled by her persistence.

“I'm working on the books,” he said. “When I finish, I'll come out, and we'll talk.”

She stared at him quietly. “What's wrong?” she asked gently. “It's being married, isn't it?” she added insightfully and watched it register in his dark eyes before he could hide it. “Yes, I thought it might be. It's hard to be tied down when you never have been before, and harder to adjust to than you expected.”

He sighed and put down the pencil he was holding. “I'll get used to it,” he replied with a faint smile. “But things have changed pretty quickly. I've been alone for a long time.”

“So have I.” Her eyes ran hungrily over his dark face, down to his half-open blue-checked shirt, where bronzed muscles lay bare under thick, curling hair. “My gosh, I love to look at you,” she breathed. “I don't think I've ever seen a man who looked sexier with his shirt open than you do.”

His heart began to beat like a bass drum. He felt his body react suddenly, urgently, to her eyes and her husky voice. She was doing it to him again, seducing him with those soft, bedroom eyes.

“Isn't there anything on television you want to watch?” he asked curtly.

She moved closer to him, her eyes holding his, her blood burning. “Not really.” She felt reckless. He was her husband and she wanted him. For the first time she felt free to express it, to show him how badly she wanted him.

Her hands went to the buttons of her shirt and she slowly undid them, her heart keeping time with her breathing. She hadn't worn a bra underneath because of the heat. She pulled the edges apart in front of Cade's steady, astonished gaze.

His jaw tightened as he saw the arousal of her pretty breasts, and his body reacted predictably. “Damn you, that's not fair,” he said harshly.

She had to hold back a smile. His eyes were hungry, and she could see his arousal when he stood up. He wasn't indifferent. Not at all.

She walked around the desk and gently pushed him back down into his chair, sliding onto his lap facing him, overwhelmed with a sense of delicious freedom. Her fingers pulled his shirt aside and she leaned forward to rest her breasts on his hair-roughened chest, sighing as she nestled her face into his throat.

His big hands were already on her hips, pulling her closer. His heart was shaking him already, and when he bent and put his mouth on hers, it went crazy.

“This is insane.” He groaned, his hands suddenly shaking as he reached for the zipper of her jeans. “For God's sake, stand up!”

He jerked her jeans off while she fumbled with the fastenings on his. Then he dragged her back onto his lap and positioned her, looking up into her rapt, excited face as he lowered her gently, bringing them together in one long, sweet motion. He shivered as she enveloped him, but his eyes didn't leave hers, first above, then level with his, then below them.

“Hold on,” he whispered. His mouth burrowed softly into hers and his hands tightened on her hips, showing her the motion, helping her body adjust itself to his as he built the rhythm gently.

She moaned sharply against his mouth when the pleasure began to sing through her. He felt her shudder and smiled harshly against her mouth. He laughed with feverish abandon, kissing her roughly while his hands pulled and lifted and the sounds they made together grew louder and more urgent.

When the pleasure burst through, she arched backward, her hair trailing to his thighs as she wept and shivered with the anguish of completion, her drawn face and body so beautiful that he deliberately delayed his own satisfaction just to watch hers.

And then it all went down in flames, his body convulsing under the softness of hers, while somewhere a clock struck the hour and he heard his own voice shouting her name.

He held her to him, trying to breathe while his body trembled helplessly in the aftermath. His hands gently stroked her damp back, soothing her. She was crying, huge tears rolling from her eyes onto his bare chest.

“I ought to throw you out on the porch and chase you to town with the truck,” he breathed heavily. “Damn it, Bess...!” He burst out laughing. “My shy, innocent little wife, stripping for me in the office with the damned door standing wide-open!”

“Yes. Just like last time, except that it's not wide-open,” she pointed out. She clung closer. “Take me to bed, Cade,” she whispered softly. “Love me some more.”

He groaned. “Honey, I've got to do the books,” he said.

But she moved sensually on him, and he shivered violently.

“You were saying?” she whispered unsteadily.

“I was saying to hell with the books,” he muttered, standing up with her in his arms, his powerful body trembling from the feverish desire she'd kindled in him.

He turned, ignoring her clothes on the floor, and carried her down the hall and into the bedroom they shared, slamming the door and locking it behind them. Before he could put her down on the bed, she'd twisted up to take possession of his mouth again, glorying in her sense of control, in the wonder that she could undermine all his defenses and make him want her in such an uncontrollable way.