Jane Bonander (19 page)

“Take it off, Julia.”

She pulled the two edges of the fabric together. “McCloud, my breasts aren’t very big.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “I know how big they are, Julia. You were naked in my arms the night before last.”

She gave him a nervous laugh. How could she forget? “Oh, of course. Then why would you want to see them again?”

His gaze was hot; it made her throb. “I can’t get enough of you. The first time I saw your breasts, you were wearing your father’s work shirt.” He gave her a lazy grin. “I wanted in the worst way to see them, because they jiggled when you walked.”

She studied the floor as heat spread into her face. “You’re a naughty man, McCloud.”

“And you love it, don’t you?”

She drew her gaze to his, giving him a heated smile of her own. “Maybe.”

“Come on, Julia, take it off. Don’t you know by now that you’re beautiful?”

She bit her lip to hide the catch in her throat, then let the camisole slide down her shoulders.

“They’re perfect. You know what they say,” he drawled.

She wanted to cover herself with her arms but didn’t. “No, McCloud, what do
they
say?”

“More than a handful is wasted.”

She was unable to curb her smile, or the pride that spread through her.

“Your petticoat is next.”

Eager for him, she pulled the string that held it and let it fall to the floor. His sharp intake of breath gave her further courage. She turned around, showing him her bottom. Suddenly he was behind her, his hands caressing her.

She slumped against him, feeling the ache of desire as his hands fondled her breasts, her stomach, the place between her legs.

He murmured provocative, sin-filled words in her ear and drew her back onto the bedroll. They kissed, mouths open, tongues exploring. She was wild with need when he entered her, and pleasure exploded inside her. When she could form a thought, she hoped one day she could learn to please him as he’d pleased her. It was the only weapon she could think of that could possibly make him stay.

They rode back to the house, Marymae awake and squirming to be held.

Julia fidgeted as well. “I want my drawers,

McCloud.” She felt odd riding horseback with a bare bottom.

“No. I don’t want you to wear any for the rest of the day.”

She made a face at his back.

“I saw that,” he warned, reaching behind him to stroke her bare leg.

She swallowed a nervous laugh and pushed his hand away. “You did not.” His hand returned—farther up this time—and touched her between the legs.

“McCloud!” She had to grab him to keep from falling off. “Behave yourself or you’ll drop Marymae.”

He gave her a put-upon sigh. “All right.”

She wrapped her arms around him and stroked his chest.

“You can put your hands lower,” he offered.

She smiled into his shoulder. “Don’t get your heart set on it.”

They rode in silence the rest of the way home. Julia didn’t know what he was thinking, but all she could think about was how much she loved him.

While she prepared dinner, he came up behind her, lifted her skirt and put his hands on her bare bottom. She went forward, using the edge of the counter for support. One hand moved to the front and he dipped a finger inside. She leaned back, resting her head on his shoulder, letting her arousal grow.

“I hope there’s a purpose to all this, McCloud.” That she could speak in a complete sentence stunned her.

“Oh, I think you know my purpose.”

Her knees gave way. Turning in his arms, she raised her face to his and clung to him, rubbing against him.

He gave her a quick, wet kiss then pulled away, his eyes filled with dark fire. “Not yet, wife.”

She turned back to her chores. “Then stop
doing
that.”

His hands roamed her bottom. “Stop doing what?”

Resting the top of her head on his chest, she murmured,
“That.”

“Don’t you like it?”

“I’m drooling on your shirt, McCloud. Of course I like it.”

He gave her an innocent look, but his eyes were hot as he touched her. “Oh, is all this down here for me?”

With effort, she laughed and pushed him away. “Get out of here while I fix dinner.”

He brought his hand to her chin. “One kiss before I go.”

She raised her face, her mouth eager for his. His tongue danced with hers. He nibbled at her lips. The kiss went deep. She would die if he didn’t take her soon.

By bedtime she couldn’t undress fast enough. He took her hand and pulled her to his room.

It was exciting to have him dressed while she was naked, but not very satisfying. “Do I get to watch you undress?”

“You ordered me to undress in front of you once today. Maybe this time you should undress me yourself.”

With cautious anticipation, she unbuttoned his shirt. She knew nothing about seduction, only what he’d taught her. “I … I really don’t know what to do.” Opening his shirt, she kissed his warm flesh, moving her lips over it.

“You’re doing fine.” He circled her nipples with his palms, sending a rush of desire into her pelvis.

She stilled his hands, stood on her tiptoes and kissed his chin. “I can’t do anything when you do that.” She gave him a mischievous smile. “I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to keep your hands below your waist.”

He behaved himself while she took off his shirt, even minded his manners when she kissed the hair-covered skin that circled his navel.

But as she unbuttoned his fly, his fingers found her warm, wet delta, and she inhaled sharply. “I told you to keep your hands to yourself.” Her words came out on a rush of laughter.

He drew her to him. “No. You said to keep them below my waist.” He touched her again. “See? They’re below my waist.”

“No, they’re below
my
waist, you devil.”

They laughed together as she hurried to undress him, but levity stopped when he stood before her, his root bobbing from the weight of his hunger.

“Look at me, Julia.”

She wrenched her gaze from his groin to his face, her lips parting and her breath coming in erratic spurts.

“Your breasts are quivering.”

Indeed they were. But she was shaking like that all over. She expelled an exasperated sigh. “How long are you going to draw this thing out?”

He smirked. “My thing is drawn out pretty far, wouldn’t you say?”

She laughed, then bit her lip and studied him. She was aswim with desire. “If you don’t do something, McCloud, I’ll resort to—”

He led her to the bed. “You’ll resort to what?”

She tumbled onto it, pulling him down with her. “I think you know what I mean.”

He mouthed a breast and Julia arched toward him, gripping his hair, tugging him closer.

She wrapped her legs around him as he entered her. In a few short, rough thrusts, they both climaxed, screaming each other’s name.

He made love to her again, this time slowly, and Julia knew she would love him until the day she took her last breath. It wasn’t just because he’d awakened in her all the latent desires she’d known were buried there. There was another part of him that touched her equally as deeply. His charm. His teasing banter. His clever repartee. His innate goodness. And there was something else. Something she would occasionally see in his eyes when he didn’t know she was watching. A haunted expression. A look of pain that went so deep, she wondered if he would ever express it. She loved that, too, and wanted in the worst way to be his confidante.

But that would mean he would have to love her as much as she loved him. And she didn’t think that was possible. Not even under the best of circumstances could he ever love her as much as she loved him.

J
ulia woke and stretched. She opened her eyes and found McCloud on his elbow, studying her. Something near her heart burst like flower buds into bloom. Over the past weeks, she’d discovered how expressive his eyes were. Odd that she hadn’t noticed before. But now, when she was so deeply in love, she knew every nuance of him. One of the things she loved most was that when she talked to him, he concentrated on her, making her feel like the most important person in the world. No man had ever done that, not even her father.

“Happy anniversary,” McCloud said, his voice husky from sleep.

“Anniversary?” She stretched again, briefly glancing away, wondering if her eyes spoke of the love that was in her heart.

“We’ve been married a month.”

As if he’d had to remind her. Two weeks ago they had first made love, and she savored every memory. She’d also not had her menses. She wasn’t sure how
she felt about that. She wanted McCloud’s baby, but it could easily make him feel trapped, and she didn’t want that.

She put her arm around his neck. “Has it been a month already?”

He smiled a warm, intimate smile. One that she loved. “With your help, I’ve almost got the skeleton of the barn done.”

She frowned, upset that not one of their neighbors had come to help rebuild.

“I know what you’re thinking, wife.”

She gave him a wry smile. “You usually do.”

He settled back on the bed, taking her with him. “When you married me, you married a man with baggage, Julia.”

She gave him a quizzical look.

“Because I’m a breed,” he explained.

Uttering a troubled sigh, she rested her head on his chest and listened to the beating of his heart. “And I was so sure that all my neighbors were my friends.” She wrapped her arms around his neck.

He pulled her to him and kissed her. They made slow, lazy love.

Later, after McCloud had left to check on the fruit, she was sweeping the porch when she heard a rider approach. Shading her eyes, she felt a friendly warmth as Serge approached on his gray.

“Good morning!” Serge stopped and dismounted, tying the reins to the post.

“Good morning yourself. It’s about time you came to see me.” She swept the dust onto the grass.

“I just heard about the barn, Julia. I’ve been in San Francisco. If you want, I’ll send Frank and a couple of other men over to help.”

Her stomach pitched. “Frank Barnes?”

“I know how you feel about him, but like it or not, he’s a capable carpenter. I can spare him and a few others off and on for a couple of weeks. Would that help you out?”

Julia swept the steps. She didn’t want Frank Barnes on her land. She
didn’t.
But they needed the help. “Yes. Thank you, Serge. I’m sure McCloud would appreciate that. Want some coffee? I have fresh coffee cake.”

He gave her a brief smile, then furrowed his brow. “Sure. I’d like that.”

Julia caught his expression. “What’s wrong?”

He opened the door and she walked inside, resting the broom against the wall. “I’ve got some news. I don’t think you’re going to like it.”

She went to the pie safe, brought out the plate with the coffee cake on it and put it on the table. After pouring him coffee, she sat down across from him.

“What is it?”

Serge sighed and sat back in his chair. “How’s your marriage?”

She frowned. “That’s an unusual question. It’s fine.” Couldn’t be better, she thought, biting the insides of her cheeks to keep from grinning.

He muttered a curse. “That just makes what I have to say that much harder.”

A sense of foreboding crept over her. “Then say it, Serge. If this has something to do with McCloud, I want to know.” Didn’t she?

“Did you know your husband has been trying to sell some of your land along the river?”

Julia stared at him, her happiness teetering like a rock on a cliff. “He’s what?”

Around a mouthful of cake, Serge explained. “He’s approached Jake Crawford with an offer.” He pinched his brows together as he swallowed, then took a slurp of coffee. “I was hoping you knew about it, that maybe it was your idea since I know how—” He cleared his throat. “Since I know how bad things have been for you.”

Julia’s stomach tightened like a fist. Papa’s will had specifically stated that none of the land should be sold piecemeal. McCloud knew that. “I can’t believe it.” She didn’t want to believe it. There had to be an explanation, but for the life of her, she couldn’t think of one.

Serge took her hand and squeezed it. “Julia, I didn’t want to hurt you. Honest, honey, I wish you’d been aware. You’re like a … a …”

“A sister to you?” she finished.

He nodded, a blush creeping into his cheeks. “I wouldn’t have even mentioned it if I hadn’t felt it was important. I just thought you should know what kind of man you married.”

She pulled her hand out from under his, put it in her lap and began twisting at her apron. “But why would he do this without asking me?”

Serge looked uncomfortable. “How well do you really know him, Julia?”

She swallowed, unsure how to answer. It was possible that her first instincts about him had been right after all. Perhaps she was just a love-starved fool, anxious to believe the honeyed words of a dangerous stranger.

“Papa trusted him.”

Serge took her hand again, this time clasping it with both of his. “Don’t get angry with me, Julia, but your father was sick. I know you want to think differently, but his mind was failing toward the end. Why, Mother said that there were times they were together when he didn’t even know who she was.”

She frowned at him, unable to believe it. “I hadn’t noticed anything like that.”

He squeezed her fingers. “And why would you? He was your father. We always think of our parents as being strong and unchanging. We choose not to see their failings, Julia.”

Studying the floor, she saw nothing but her father’s dead body, half of his face gone from the force of the bullet. She shuddered. “McCloud thinks Papa was killed.”

“What?” Serge cursed, then stood and walked around the table to where she sat, pulling her from her chair.

She went into his arms, grateful for his friendship. “He thinks Papa found out something about the water. That someone was diverting it from the river, and they killed him because of it.”

He smoothed her hair. “That’s ridiculous. Normally, Amos was the most level-headed man I’d ever known, Julia, honey. But at the end …” He sighed. “At the end, when he was so sick, I don’t think he knew what he was saying. Mother said that even when he was himself, he’d often be awfully distant with her, and that wasn’t like Amos at all. You know how close they were.”

Julia bit down on her lip until it hurt. Her father and Meredith had been friends. At one time. But in the months before his death, he’d seemed to want to distance himself from her. Was it because of his illness? It had to be. What else could it have been?

Serge drew back. “Who would want to harm such a kind, gentle old man?”

She took a shaky breath. “That’s what I said when McCloud brought it up. Why would he say those things, Serge?”

He touched her chin, tipped her face to his and gave her a sympathetic smile. “I don’t know. You probably don’t want to hear this either, but I hope it wasn’t just to get his hands on the ranch.”

She pushed him away, unwilling to let his words become planted in her mind. But it was too late. What
did
she know about her husband? She’d known Serge for ten years. She’d known McCloud for only a few months.

Once Serge had gone, Julia paced, trying to make sense of what she’d learned. Even though she’d known Serge forever, she didn’t want to believe him. Not about this. Not about the man she’d fallen so deeply in love with. The man to whom her father had entrusted both his land and his eldest daughter.

By the time Marymae had awakened from her nap, Julia knew that she had to face McCloud. It wasn’t her way to avoid the truth, even if it hurt. The trouble was, if McCloud was the no-good bastard she’d thought he was when she first met him, could she trust him to tell her the truth?

Wolf stepped into the kitchen, drawing the delicious smells of supper into his lungs. Julia had her back to him, at the stove. Her waist was small enough to span with his hands, and the swell of her hips enticed and aroused him. Dressed or naked, she was the most provocative woman he’d ever known. And she had a quick, lively mind. Qualities he’d admired from the beginning. If someone had told him a year ago that he would feel this way about a woman like Julia, he’d have pronounced them insane. Not because he wouldn’t have been attracted, but because he wouldn’t have had a chance.

He wasn’t ready to call it love, even in the quiet recesses of his heart, but it was something special, and he didn’t want to lose it.

He stole up behind her and kissed her neck. Startled, she dropped her spoon; it clattered to the floor.

“Oh! I didn’t hear you come in.” She fussed with her hair.

Wolf put his arms around her, placing one hand just above her left breast. He felt the bounding of her heart. “Does your heart beat for anyone special?” He bent and blew in her ear.

With a nervous laugh, she tried to push him away, but he turned her to him and kissed her, loving the way she tasted and smelled.

He raised his head. “You taste good enough to eat. Do I have time for a bite before supper?” He leered at her, wiggling his eyebrows.

She bent and picked up the spoon. “Not tonight, I’m afraid.”

Frowning at her response, he tucked her to him and rested his chin on the top of her head. Hell, she didn’t have to be in the mood just because he was. With Julia, he was randy as a goat all the time. “The fruit is ready to ship. I’m going to start packing it up tomorrow.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

She wasn’t as pleased as he thought she’d be. He pulled back and examined her. “What’s wrong? Do you have another headache?”

She turned away and wiped her hands on her apron. “Serge was here earlier.”

A warning sounded, but he chose not to address it. Serge’s visit could mean a lot of things. “What was on his mind?”

She fidgeted with her apron strings. “He was sorry about the barn. He didn’t know it had burned because he’s been in San Francisco.” She opened the pie safe and pulled out some buns. “He’ll send some of his men to help you rebuild it.”

“How generous of him,” he mumbled, unable to dredge up the proper enthusiasm.

She plunked the plate of buns down on the table so hard, one bounced off and landed on the floor. “Well, I thought it was.” Her eyes snapped with anger.

He picked up the bun and tossed it onto the counter. “What’s wrong with you?”

Her courage appeared to waver, for she shook her head and moved toward the dark pantry. “Nothing.”

He followed her, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Tell me what it is, Julia.”

She paused, then raised her chin and stared at him. “Serge told me you’re trying to sell off some of my land. You know that’s not what Papa wanted.”

So that was it. Of course, she knew only half the story. Why wasn’t he surprised it was his half brother who had come to her, bearing the news? Wolf wanted to give her an explanation. He could tell she wanted that, too, for there was a beseeching look in her eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck and swore. He wasn’t ready to tell her. He thought he’d have more time to work things out, but for now he only had his suspicions. “I see.”

She began to pace. “Is it true?”

He inhaled, forcing air out between his lips. “What else did he say?”

She stopped, jamming her fists on her hips. “He thinks your comment about Papa killing himself is ridiculous. So does his mother.”

A slow burn crept into Wolf’s chest. “And I suppose one brief talk with the Henleys and you’re ready to believe them, rather than me.”

Rounding on him, she announced, “Believe you? How can I believe you if you won’t talk to me?” She pressed her palms to her temples. “I’ve known Serge a long, long time, McCloud. He’s a good friend. Maybe even my best friend. And while I was growing up without a mother of my own, Meredith Henley tried her best to fill the void, and—”

His bark of laughter stopped her. “Meredith Henley a mother figure? Spare me, Julia.”

She glared at him. “I’m surprised you know Meredith well enough to form an opinion one way or another.”

Ah, yes. His mother was one more thing he hadn’t told Julia about. He felt her slipping away, but now wasn’t the time to explain how Meredith fit into his life. And he needed proof about the water before he could tell her anything. “I’m full of surprises.”

“Yes.” She came to him and put her hand on his chest, her eyes filled with uncertainty. “I’m beginning to understand that. But I can’t dismiss the Henleys as if what they think doesn’t count, McCloud. And you didn’t answer my question. Did you approach Jake Crawford about buying some of my land?”

It upset him that she’d found out so quickly. By offering each of the ranchers a piece of prime river-front property, he’d hoped to smoke out the person who was diverting the water. If someone wanted the land badly enough, they would jump at the chance to buy. Crawford had wanted it, all right, but he told Wolf he’d have to check with Julia first.

Wolf knew the rule: If you were a solid citizen and you were white, you didn’t do business with breeds. He hadn’t expected Crawford to run to Henley, but it didn’t surprise him that Henley beat a path to Julia’s door, just to announce her husband’s apparent betrayal.

He wasn’t sure if all of this would lead to Amos’s killer, but he had a hunch it would. And his hunches were usually good. As for now, he only had suspicions. And they wouldn’t sit well with his wife.

“And if I did?” He hated being abrupt with her when what he really wanted to do was hold her and tell her everything would be fine.

“Why would you do that without asking me?”

She was so crestfallen, he couldn’t bear to look at her. He examined his boots. “Believe me, Julia, I had my reasons.”

“Were you going to share them with me?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.”