Mallory Rush - [Outlawsand Heroes 02] (16 page)

His mind worked swiftly, forming a workable plan. He would find a way to visit the law library regularly and absorb legal information as quickly as he was able—in case the gold was gone, which quite possibly it was. If such was the case, he would be prepared to take the bar, a worthy risk in exchange for his ability to assume the role of husband and provider. Meanwhile he would continue with his domestic duties and woo Lori with passion and with purpose.

Passion.
Noble groaned, long and deep.
Long and deep.
It was how he yearned to take her as she slept in his hungry arms. Restraining himself was becoming increasingly difficult. Perhaps they should no longer sleep together. Lori trusted him, but he trusted himself less and less. A battle waged inside him even now as he laid down the brush and hesitated only slightly before opening a shallow vanity drawer. It was an invasion of her privacy, but still, here he was lifting a pair of dainty panties, fingering the lacy band.

Lori wasn't even in them and he felt a surging response as he stroked the thin silk. Feeling himself grow so hard that he ached, Noble vowed that this was the closest he would get between her thighs until his wedding ring graced her hand.

Vows were meant to be kept at all costs, not broken. And yet this was one vow he questioned. Clearly, it was outdated, but then again, so was he. Lori, however, was not.

She was such a modern woman, he could scarce believe she viewed herself as being somewhat out of step with the times. How could she possibly think that? The array of scanty underthings he now sifted through were anything but prudish.

"Noble! I'm ho-ome!"

Her distant call of his name had him shoving the panties he still held into her drawer and slamming it shut.

"Noble? Noble, where are you?" Lori called again.

"Here!" he shouted. With no apparent evidence of his small transgression, he automatically grabbed the first innocuous thing his hand came in contact with.

"Oh, there you are." She rushed into his arms. "I'm so glad to see you. How'd it go today?"

"Fine, perfectly fine," he said with a strained smile.

"Brushing your hair?" She gestured to the brush he held.

"Actually, no. I was considering how to go about asking you if I might brush yours." Good, very good. Delivered with the convincing innocence of a lawyer who knew in his heart the person he was protecting was guilty as sin.

"I'd like you to brush my hair," she murmured.

"Before or after dinner?" he asked, trying very hard not to think about the raging instincts gone amok in the privacy of his pants.

"Both," she answered in a throaty whisper, swishing her hair over her shoulders.

Noble laid aside the brush and stroked his fingers through her fair, golden hair. So beautiful, so fine, the feel of her so right, he suddenly knew that no matter his current ability to provide, no matter the human perplexities defining this time, he could not bide this much longer.

Sniffing, she said, "something sure smells good."

"It could be me."

"Could be and is," she assured him. "But I could swear that's fresh bread I'm smelling." She licked her lips. "I know it's too good to be true, but did you actually use that yeast we bought yesterday? As in, stirring it up with some flour and whatever else it takes to bake a loaf of bread?"

"I did." Much as he deplored this maid duty, Noble took pride in having done some small feat that Lori had yet to accomplish herself.

"Home-baked bread." She sighed. "Forget the diet margarine. I've got a stick of real butter."

"Two sticks remaining. I took inventory. And while I was at it I noticed that your two bottles of André bear the denomination of champagne."

"Cheap stuff, but it's okay." She laughed self-consciously. "There went the mood. Just goes to show how out of practice I am when it comes to romance."

"Quite the contrary," Noble told her, "I find your candor refreshing." He bit softly at her earlobe, tugged a small gold hoop with his teeth. "I also find it
very
romantic."

"Noble," she whispered. "Noble, what am I going to do with you?" She paused, sighed sadly. "And once you're gone, what will I do without you?"

"A moot question since you won't be rid of me until you throw me out. As for your immediate concern... have me for dinner. And should you find yourself still hungry, have me again for dessert."

Noble pulled away and studied her glowing face. As he looked at her now his multitude of dilemmas slid away.

"You make me feel so rich, Lori. Even richer than a land baron discovering a wealth of gold in his mine."

"Know what? You make me feel like gold."

"You are," he assured her. Indeed, Lori was gold. A woman of immense strength and vulnerability. A woman he would be very foolish to let go for any reason.

Breaking away, she dug into her purse and extended a book. "From me to you. Louis L'Amour. He's kind of like the Shakespeare of frontier fiction."

"Thank you, Lori—and now a gift to you in return." Noble traced the novel's binding down her spine, tossed the book away, and caressed her behind.

Angling for a kiss, he tossed away his principles as well. And judging from her rampant response as he palmed a warm, full breast, there was much to be said for wooing a modern woman minus one's old-world principles.

Chapter 12

She had come to a decision. A very important, life-altering decision. But as Noble studied her too incisively while she swallowed a generous sip of pink champagne, Lori was no longer sure if she could act on it.

She finished the glass and he refilled it, his darkly sensual gaze never leaving her overwarm face. A cool compress sounded good. So did some deep-breathing exercises alone in the bathroom while she reconsidered the wisdom of what no longer seemed necessarily wise.

Seducing Noble. What in the world had made her think she could pull off something so outrageously brazen?
Fear and courage. Desperation and desire.
Yes, that's exactly what it was. She feared losing him; she was desperate to keep him. But facts were facts and the simple fact was, for all of Noble's professed affection and steamy kisses, she was his first stepping-stone into the future, and once he got his footing, it would be only natural for him to expand his horizons beyond her and their relationship.

It wouldn't be long before her monopoly on Noble was history. She had realized that today, when she'd let Ryan enter the picture. And that's when she had determined to seize the moment, to be brave enough, foolish enough, to see to her needs without worrying about tomorrow.

The problem was, her needs went beyond desire, and already she was worried about picking up the pieces of her heart once Noble was on his own. Later, she told herself, worry later and quit wasting precious time, and while you're at it quit shaking your foot and say something—something provocative.

"This is delicious." Delicious as it was, the bread felt stuck in her throat and she washed it down with several long swallows of champagne. "Where did you learn to make bread?"

Noble shrugged. "A simple task, really. Simple enough for a boy to learn from watching cooks in the kitchen."

The hot silver gleam of his gaze on her wet lips had Lori reaching for the bottle. Noble caught her wrist. His fingers seemed to burn past her flesh and into her jumping pulse.

"Please, allow me." Again he filled her glass, his actions smooth and polished, unlike the faint shake of the glass as she lifted it. "Is something wrong, Lori? You seem not quite yourself tonight."

Maybe she should just tell him. Just tell him she was terrified he would break her heart. And once she spilled her guts about that, ask him if he'd mind seducing her since she had no experience in seducing a man.

But... no.
No.
She was a grown woman and fully capable of taking charge of her life, taking responsibility for her actions.

"Actually, Noble, you're right. I'm not quite myself." Lori put down the glass and squared her shoulders. "I came to a decision today. And once I did, I went shopping. On my lunch hour. Alone."

"It sounds as if your decision was a monumental one, given the message on your—what is it called? Ah yes, bumper sticker. 'When the Going Gets Tough, the Tough Go Shopping.'" He chuckled. "So, tell me, what sent you to the stores?"

"You. Me. I mean, us." Lori groaned. This wasn't coming out right. Maybe she should have written him a letter instead. Too late for that; she plunged on. "What it comes down to is that I want to keep you all to
myself,
but all I have is borrowed time. Today is today, tomorrow is tomorrow and—"

"Lori—"

"No, Noble. Let me finish. I've resigned myself to the cold, hard facts. Even if you break my heart, it's not worth giving up a single minute of what we can have now. And so, I went shopping. First, I bought a really sexy nightgown. And then I bought—" A box of condoms. She couldn't bring herself to be so blunt. "I, uh, picked up a bottle of cognac, some vanilla-scented candles, and threw in a box of Trojans. I meant to light the candles to set the mood before I slipped into my new nightie and wave the cognac at you while I drew you down on the bed."

Lori blew out a sigh of relief, glad to have gotten it all out into the open and thankful Noble hadn't laughed at her. Far from it, he looked aroused and intrigued.

He took a leisurely sip from his nearly untouched first glass of champagne, lifted a brow, and asked, "What are these Trojans in a box?"

"They're—they're..." Oh Lord. Why hadn't she just gone on the pill?
Because by the time they kick in, the affair might very well be over.
She took a deep breath. "They are thin plastic shields a man puts on to prevent pregnancy and protect both partners from sharing any sexual diseases." At his expression of slight offense, Lori hastened to say, "not that I have any because I don't. And I'm sure that you don't either. But it's the responsible thing to do."

He tapped his lips. "Amazing that you could and would actually purchase these... ah... French letters"—he paused—"in order to prevent a chance taking of my seed I presume."

"That pretty well sums it up."

"Should I take this to mean you don't wish for children?"

"No! I'd love to have kids."

"How many?"

"Heck, I don't know. Two? Three, max."

"An acceptable number." After a thoughtful silence, he quietly added, "I look forward to the day when those French letters are no longer of use to us."

Wasn't he listening to her? Obviously no better than she was listening to her heart before it was shattered.

"We can't even think about a family, Noble. For heaven's sake, we can't even think about being together beyond tonight and a few stolen tomorrows. That's why I'm trying to drag you to bed—so far, with little success—and no wonder since I—"

"Enough." He slammed down his glass. "Enough of this skirting around the real issue. It is not that I will break your heart by deserting you, because I have an equal fear you will desert me. The true difficulty lies in that I am absolutely, unapologetically in love with you, I will be for the rest of my life, and I shall have you for a wife. However, I cannot ask for your hand until I am financially sound again—and though I vowed to myself to honor your virtue until I'd earned the privilege of claiming it, I simply can't wait that long before seeking your most intimate favors in bed."

For a full minute Lori could only stare at him. "Let me get this straight," she said slowly. "Are you telling me that you think you're in love with me?"

"I do not think it. I know it. Just as I know my father fell in love with my mother in less than a week as well. I've dallied with many women, in bed and out, but never has one laid me low and sent me soaring, with a smile, a kiss."

How she wanted him to love her and how easily, too easily, it would be to love Noble. He made her feel too much, want too much. And there was the danger.

Hard as it was, she clung to reason. "There's a big difference between the two of us and your parents. They came from the same time—"

"They also came from two very different worlds. Love is love, they often told me, no matter the poor timing of it or the adversity which might come as a result." He took her hand, pressed his lips to it. "I do love you, Lori."