Mallory Rush - [Outlawsand Heroes 02] (22 page)

"What's the matter, Noble?" Lori came up behind him and he quickly replaced his hideous grimace with an expression that he hoped passed for mere disappointment.

"I so wanted to explore at least a little of the mine. It was, after all, where my father and I spent many hours talking as he allowed me to mine a bit of gold myself."

"Sounds like a special memory."

"Yes." Relieved that she had taken his explanation at face value, Noble went on with a small, tender smile. "The Aleuts who worked for Father weren't mistreated as so many had been by other Russians. They would mine around us and offer me an occasional pointer, tell me a native joke I didn't understand but laughed at anyway. And I could always expect someone to sneak me a sweet treat just before I left, along with a warning that there would be no more if I told my mother, close as it was to dinner...."

He trailed off, remembering it all and wishing it back.

But even more fiercely he wished for some way to open the cave and make straight for his hiding place while he prayed that the gold was still there.

"What an incredible life you've had." Lori hugged his waist, looked up at him with wonder sparkling in her eyes. Wonder and compassion and perhaps even a little envy. "If you can, just be thankful for a wealth of memories. Nobody can take those away, Noble. They're yours to keep."

What she said was true. Nonetheless, he knew those memories wouldn't be enough. New memories and dreams shared with Lori, his status as a lawyer to be reckoned with and a new home built where his old had burned, that would be enough. Yes, a grand home built for them both and their children with the sacks of gold it would take to claim such a dream, that would be enough.

"Still feel like going dancing tonight?" she asked, sounding unsure if she felt like going herself.

"Seeing that you're tackling one of your fears, then by all means, let's be on our way so we can get on with this matter of the heart."

She laughed dryly. "And I thought you were going to be patient. You don't sound too patient to me."

"Perhaps I should increase your own impatience so it might match my own." He shrugged out of his light jacket, laid it at the cave's sealed entry. "Here. Here is where I'll have you. Immediately and without protest. A new memory, Lori, to transcend those of the past."

Lori did not protest. An urgency gripped her as she shed her clothes in the great wide open and lay on the jacket, still warm from his body.

She opened her arms. He came into them.

Noble entered her without further ado and she was more than ready for him. She took him easily, her womb yearning for his blunt and solid touch. If she could have, she would have taken him all the way to her heart. Her heart, where he touched her as insistently as he did her body.

She called to him, demanded he meet her need with his own. He came then, spilled his seed on her stomach, her name spilling again and again from his lips. Her wrenching cry of "Noble, Noble" was soulful and loud before his lips crushed and silenced her own.

* * *

The music was noisy and so were the people about him, shouting over the music to make themselves heard.

Scanning the crowd at the Kick and Kaboodle, Noble decided that he and Lori were the only ones who said more in silence than the rowdies managed in their strident laughter and abrasive yells.

It was not so different from the other dance halls he'd been in; tame, actually, in comparison. Women did not lift their skirts and seduce men into their rooms so they might part with their gold in exchange for the parting of legs.

Even so, he did not like this place. And judging from her false smile as she yelled something back to their friend Jennifer, Lori had ceased liking the dance hall herself.

While he studied her and sipped silently at his beer, a woman approached him. A comely woman, were her hair not so artificially blond, her clothes so tight, and her makeup so generously applied.

She asked him to dance. He looked to Lori for help, silently pleading with her to tell the other woman that she'd already been promised this dance. But, no. She smiled. Grimly. "Go ahead, Noble. Dance with the lady."

Dance with her he did. But a lady she was not, giving him coy smiles or licking her lips while she "accidentally" brushed her breasts to his chest. The woman was worse than a harlot. She offered him her body for free when he hadn't the least interest in taking it.

Nevertheless he thanked her for the dance and sighed his relief once it was over. He did this again and again, barely able to sit down before another woman approached. Most of them were far more pleasant and genuine than the first, but only good manners induced him to accept their invitations.

He did not want to dance with these women. The woman he wanted to be with was Lori. Lori, who pretended not to notice his vacant seat at the table while she yelled back and forth with Jennifer and darted her eyes to the dance floor. He intercepted each chance glance with a befuddled, accusing gaze, which she turned from as if unable to bear the sight of him with another woman, though she had all but pushed him into their undesired company.

"Last dance!" was called out As he made his way to the table, thirsty for more than a sip of beer to wet his mouth, he felt yet another tap on his shoulder.

Noble turned. The woman was absolutely beautiful by any standards of time or man. She looked quite sure of his answer as she crooked a finger.

"Thank you. But, no. The last dance goes to my lady."

He left the disgruntled woman and approached Lori who was smiling for the first time all night.

Extending his hand, he asked, insisted, "dance with me."

She came out of her seat faster than he could pull her from it. And then... then, oh, how they danced.

Without a care in the world for what others thought of them, they flowed together as a river wide and just as deep. Never mind that it was a line dance, everyone else dancing alone. Together they danced in the middle, claimed their own realm, and didn't bother to apologize to anyone blocking their way as they forged a singular, whirling path.

It was only after the music ceased to play, after he bent her back and ravaged her mouth with a demanding kiss he'd longed for all night, that silence surrounded them. And then, the sound of a clap, followed by another and another until the rafters echoed with applause and shrill whistles came at them from every direction.

He shifted his mouth to her ear so she would hear him over the roar. "I don't want to be here, Lori. I want to be with you, only with you."

"My bedroom or yours?"

Noble hesitated before answering her. The wedding picture had posed too much of a threat to make love to her where he most wanted to.

"Yours," he said firmly.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's split before the second encore." They received a second encore anyway as he swept her into his arms and made for the exit.

Lori had let Mick and her past go. Starting tonight, Noble determined to do the same.

Chapter 17

"No-ble. Oh honey, I'm ho-ome," Lori singsonged, her step happy and light as she sailed into the kitchen. She was two hours early, the first of several anniversary presents.

For three months they had lived together in glorious, passionate bliss—if she didn't count their occasional arguments. Which always ended in more glorious, passionate bliss.

She took out the lobster tails she'd bought, along with a bottle of
un
cheap champagne and a pound of real butter. Smiling mischievously, she left a stick out on the counter. Appetizer enough, Lori decided. Besides, she was cooking dinner for a change, so they just might have butter for dessert, too.

Hopefully they'd have enough left for the lobster.

At that last thought, she giggled on her way to the stairs, her new nightie and a black silk robe for Noble in hand. Also in the bag was a framed candid of them kissing that Ryan had taken. She'd suggest they put it in place of her wedding picture, which belonged in a photo album, not beside a shared bed.

But first, she'd give Noble the best present of all. Three words she couldn't hold back any longer.

Did she love Noble? Not much. Only madly, completely, without question or fear. He hadn't pressed her to say it since that day on his parents' land. Neither had he said the words himself, stubborn, marvelous man that he was, waiting for her. But he told her in a thousand different ways.

Waking her with a rose tickling her nose, then sweeping her from head to toe with the petals. Chiding her when she said she didn't have time for breakfast and insisting she eat on the way. Tending a small cut with a kiss to make it better. Chasing her through the house then tickling her until she screamed for mercy, only for Noble to show no mercy at all, a suddenly serious man who was as purposeful in his dark passion as he was in all else.

He read extensively, lightning fast, and delighted in challenging her with spirited debates. Even though she rarely won, he left no doubt of his respect for her opinion. Noble, her Noble, was a rare and wonderful man, whose skill at poker was rivaled only by his ability to make the best bread ever.

Better enjoy it while she could. He was too ambitious to play househusband much longer.

There.
Her biggest fear confronted. Marriage. Marriage to a man who was nothing like Mick and everything she could ever want. Noble, who would be a wise but stern, patient but playful father. She wanted children.
His
children. She wanted his name. But... Noble didn't have a name in the eyes of the very law he should be practicing. Such a waste. Such a damn waste. If only he wouldn't cut her off every time she brought up the birth certificate...

Her smile fading, Lori felt a familiar frustration. It wasn't right that he refused to establish a new identity. Without it, he couldn't get any kind of a license, marriage included. But surely
that
would be incentive enough to change his mind. She held the tramp card and this was one hand she was sure of winning.

Approaching the bedroom, Lori paused, mentally arranging her words that probably wouldn't come out right anyway.

First, she would tell him he'd convinced her that his love and loyalty were true. Then she'd tell him that she had come to realize life held no guarantees, and even if he died tomorrow, the pain would be worth it because she wouldn't trade a single minute they shared for a lifetime of never having known him.

And then... then she'd tell him she loved him.

If he didn't propose, she would. Once they got that settled, she would convince him to use the birth certificate so they could get married and get on with their lives. So what if they shared a borrowed last name? Both of them would know it was Zhivago and nothing else mattered.

He wouldn't like it But if Noble wanted to marry her badly enough, surely he could swallow his pride. They could fly to Vegas and he could meet her parents, who had retired there. He could formally ask her father for her hand, as she was sure he would do—and then, then...

Squaring her shoulders, Lori took a deep breath and marched into the bedroom, prepared as she'd ever be to take charge of fate.

His name was on her lips, but he wasn't there. She searched the house, calling to him.

Where was he? With a sigh of disappointment, she decided he must be out and about somewhere within walking distance.

Lori decided to use her time alone in a soothing bath. With bubbles, lots of them. Then she'd put on her new nightie. Who cared if it was the middle of the day? Noble sure wouldn't. He was the one who had taught her the value of sheer feminine whimsy.

Lord, she thought, for having such a serious nature, he sure had a way of bringing out the naughty in her.

And she was feeling naughty when she heard him rummaging around the kitchen. Eager as she was to race down the stairs and tell him her insights and professions and even propose if he didn't beat her to it, Lori stayed put on his bed where they'd first made love. Draped as alluringly as possible she greeted him with a sultry, "hi, lover. Happy anniversary."

He stopped abruptly at the open door. And looked from her to a legal pad in his hands.

"Lori?" he said with an untypical note of uncertainty. "What are you doing here?"