McCrory's Lady (26 page)

      
A dark surge of anger washed over him, feeding the flames of his passion until he plunged deeply inside her in one hard, deep stroke. He buried his face against her throat and felt her pulse beating frantically as she clutched him in silent entreaty, her whole body frozen, still, silent.

      
“Maggie?” He groaned her name hoarsely, but did not try to move. Dear God, she was tight, as if she had not been with a man in years—if ever! But that was not possible. His mind struggled desperately to function as his body clamored for surcease.

      
Maggie held tightly to him, grateful for the reprieve as her body accommodated itself to his, becoming used to the fullness, easing from that first tight thrust when her muscles had clenched in fear. Now, her body overrode her mind, moving with an ageless, undeniable rhythm. She could not stop her hips from raising up against his. Their flesh glided, easily this time. She heard a ragged groan escape his lips as he began to move again, slowly at first, then, feeling her respond, harder and faster.

      
The glory of it took her breath away, that illusive, often laughed-about pleasure that was rumored to be taken in an act that women of her kind usually endured with stoic resignation. Never would she have believed this was possible. Never before had Colin McCrory touched her so intimately. No other man ever could. She cried out and rode with him, loving the feel of his sweat-slicked skin, the hardness of his lean muscles, the keen male smell of him.

      
Colin, her husband, was loving her! She felt the tension build and build until he released a guttural oath and began to tremble as his phallus swelled even larger and deeper inside her. He spilled his seed, driving her over the abyss to join him in a convulsive blinding surge of such intensity that all she could do was hold on to him, letting the magic wash over her newly awakened senses.

      
Colin felt the old familiar crest approaching; yet it was not old but new, more desperately sought, more intense than he could ever remember. He whispered her name like a litany. His release washed over him in undulating waves; and most wondrously, he felt her coming with him, crying out in incoherent surprise as her flesh danced and pulsed as one with his.

      
Satiated and exhausted, he collapsed atop her, panting like a spent animal, crushing her into the soft mattress. Colin was a big man, and his first wife had been a small, fragile woman. He had always been sensitive to Elizabeth's comfort and quickly rolled away, allowing her to leave the bed and compose herself. Maggie still held him fast. A strange lethargy suffused his body and he did not want to move. When he finally rolled free of her, she lay beside him, letting her arm remain beneath his neck, turning her head to nestle it against the curve of his shoulder. She felt right.

      
A swift stab of loss assailed her when he no longer covered her with his hard, warm body. As he slid out of her and rolled onto his back, it felt natural as a flower seeking the sun for her to turn and fold herself against his side. Gradually, as the physical euphoria subsided, she grew aware of his silent withdrawal. A bittersweet sadness swept through her, piercing her to the heart. “You're sorry now, aren't you?”

      
He cursed low, then said, “It was inevitable, I suppose.”

      
“I didn't set a trap, Colin. Eileen must have—”

      
“I know,” he sighed. “Rita made a special trip to the stables to insist that I return to the house at once because the mistress had drawn my bath. The mistress to her is that damnable Irishwoman.”

      
“She meant well, Colin. Please don't be angry with her.” She hesitated, fighting tears, then mastered her emotions and said, “When you want me to leave, I will. I know we can't get an annulment now...but you've said you never intended to remarry anyway, so a divorce won't really matter that much, as long as Eden is—”

      
“Don't!” he said sharply. “Don't talk about what lies ahead yet. Don't make me feel guilty for taking you. You wanted it.” His words sounded defensive and churlish in his own ears.

      
“Yes, I did...in ways I never understood,” she answered softly. “Thank you for showing me that there can really be pleasure between a man and a woman.”

      
“You never knew?” Somehow he believed her. He had felt her earlier fear, the helpless surprise as her intense passion was spent. “How long has it been, Maggie?”

      
She knew what he meant. “Since I've been with another man? Over ten years. I never enjoyed it, even with the first man I believed myself in love with. After that...” She shuddered in distaste as the hateful memories rolled over her.

      
“Why did you stay with Fletcher?” He forced himself to remember that she had been a whore, then a bordello madam.

      
“Surely you aren't jealous, Colin? We were never lovers. He was my friend and mentor—he educated me in much the same way Elizabeth did you.”

      
Colin felt at once guilty and disloyal for having enjoyed Maggie's passionate response and remembering that his first wife had never given him that special pleasure. “Elizabeth has nothing to do with this,” he said angrily.

      
“Elizabeth has everything to do with this.” She slid from the bed, wrapping the loose sheet around her regally. “You feel you've defiled her memory with me. I'm sorry, Colin.” Before the tears threatened to choke her, she turned away and slipped quickly through the door into her own room and closed it softly behind her. She heard no sound from the other side.

* * * *

      
Eileen looked hopefully from Maggie to Colin as they entered the dining room that evening. Both seemed subdued and quiet. Their eyes met often, but each glance was quickly averted as soon as the other met it. Maggie flushed each time she had to reply to a casual comment Colin made. He was wooden, his features unreadable.

      
Eden noted the altered tension between them. Something had happened, but she was not certain what. She decided to ask Maggie later. Her own thoughts were troubled by Wolf Blake. How should she respond to his overtures? She was bruised and vulnerable, not sure she could ever trust a man again, especially a gunman like him. Yet perversely she did. Dangerous ground upon which to tread, indeed.

      
Wondering how her father might react to her new friendship with Wolf, she decided to test the waters. “Is Wolf staying on at Crown Verde or are you sending him to the lumber mill?”

      
Colin appeared distracted for a moment as he chewed a bite of Eileen's succulent pork roast without tasting it. His eyebrows rose in inquiry as he leaned forward, scowling. “Since when have you started calling him Wolf?”

      
She colored, feeling like a fool. “Since this afternoon when he brought Rufus to me—you remember the dog he rescued from that drunken miner in Prescott? I want to keep him,” she added defiantly.

      
A look of faint amusement flashed across his face. “The wolf or the dog?”

      
Now, she blushed beet red.

      
Maggie, sensing the growing attraction between Eden and the half-breed, stepped in before Colin said something he might later regret. “I think it was very kind of Wolf to bring the dog to you.”

      
“It would seem Blake's become your paladin, Eden,” her father said in a measured voice. “Just be careful you don't get too attracted to your new friend.”

      
“Why? Are you sending him to the lumber mills? When the job's done, will he leave Arizona?”

      
Colin shrugged. “A man like Blake makes his own rules, Eden. He signs on only until the job's finished. Then he drifts. He's going to the mill tomorrow. In fact, I'm taking him over there in the morning.”

      
“Be careful, Colin,” Maggie said softly, remembering how he had come home from his last trip to the mill, shot and tied unconscious to his horse.

      
Their eyes met and held until he nodded silently. Then, she looked away with a faint flush suffusing her cheeks. What would tonight bring?

      
Colin wondered himself; but decided it was safer to concentrate on Eden's interest in Blake, which unsettled him. She had not shown any sense in her choices of men to date—first that weakling Stanley, then that murdering outlaw Lazlo, and now a breed gunman who was as reliable as a tumbleweed. “Eden, only remember that Wolf is a loner—a man who doesn't fit in white society any more than he does with the Apache.”

      
“We have a great deal in common, then. I don't fit in our society either,” Eden replied with a catch in her voice. She had wanted to know how he felt about Wolf and now she did.

      
“You're not in the position of a half-breed gunman, Eden,” Colin replied sternly.

      
“No! I'm not. No one dares cross him—they're afraid of his gun. They may hate him, but they respect him. I'm despised. The women cross the streets so they won't risk contamination, and the men leer at me. If I gave them a chance, half the respectable pillars of Prescott would probably offer to make me their mistress!” She shoved back her chair and rushed from the room with tears blinding her.

      
Colin started to rise, his face ashen, but Maggie placed her hand over his, shaking her head. “Let her go, Colin. She's upset now and entitled to a good cry. Anyway, I've been meaning to talk to you about Wolf Blake.”

      
He looked at her incredulously. “I hope you don't want to encourage Eden's attachment to him? She's only doing it because she feels like an outcast now.”

      
“Perhaps, but I don't think so. He's not like Lazlo. I've become a good judge of men over the years. There's a core of strength and decency in Wolf Blake. He was drawn to Eden from the moment he laid eyes on her—and she responded. I think it's more than just the tragic circumstances of their meeting. I know he leads a dangerous life, but he could change. Out here, lots of men do. What about you? What did you do before you became a respectable rancher and businessman?”

      
Her question caught him off guard and he looked up into her eyes, startled.
I slaughtered Wolf's mother's people like cattle.
How much of his gory past had he revealed when he was raving feverishly to her? He studied her face for a moment, but was unable to read anything but concern. His thoughts whirled chaotically in his head as he combed his fingers through his hair. “Point well taken, Maggie. I suppose a father always dreams of his daughter marrying a rich, polished gentleman.”

      
“Do you hold Wolf's Apache blood against him?”

      
“No, but you've lived in this part of the country long enough to know that isn't the issue. Almost everyone hates Apaches—fanatically. Eden's got troubles enough of her own. I've been thinking...when she's feeling up to it, maybe you could take her to San Francisco—or even back East. I know a few brokers in Chicago and St. Louis. One of their wives might be willing to sponsor her in society. If I could find someone who'd do it, Eden would have a second chance.”

      
“For another man like Edward Stanley?” Maggie shook her head. “He was wrong for her the first time. She doesn't want that kind of man, no matter how much she repents falling into Lazlo's trap. You'd be sending her away from the only home and family she's ever known to live in a big city among strangers.”

      
“I don't want to do it, but, hell...” He shrugged helplessly.

      
“What if she did choose Blake? He's bright. It isn't as if you don't need someone to take over your empire one day, Colin. No one's immortal.”

      
He gave her a rueful grin in spite of himself. “That your way of saying I'm getting old?”

      
“Hardly that,” she replied, remembering his passionate lovemaking that afternoon. If only she could give him a son and heir. She pushed the sad impossibility aside, hating the way his very presence brought heat to her cheeks. “Will you give Wolf a chance? Just observe him awhile and then decide if he's good enough for Eden.”

      
“It’s apparent that he’s educated,” Colin said carefully. “I wonder what he'd choose to do if he hung up his guns.”

      
“I think he'd make an excellent stockman. He has a special affinity for animals. You should have seen that dog respond when he picked the poor thing up and carried it to Doc Watkins.”

      
“He's wonderful with horses,” Colin agreed.

      
“That must be his mother's blood,” Maggie said.

      
Colin laughed mirthlessly at that. “Not likely. Apaches use horses only as a means of escaping pursuit. They ride them until the pathetic beasts die of exhaustion, then eat them and use their intestines to make water bags.”

      
Maggie was startled at his matter-of-fact statement. It seemed incongruous for a man who fought for an end to the mistreatment of the Apaches, an unpopular cause in this blood-soaked territory. “You sound as if you used to live with them.”

      
A strange expression passed over his face. Then he erased it and stood up. “No, I never did. If you'll excuse me, I'm going outside on the porch to smoke a cigar.”

      
Maggie sat disconsolately at the table, looking at the remains of Eileen's lovingly prepared feast.
Things seldom work out the way we plan them.
Would Colin take her to his bed again, now that their marriage was consummated? Did she want him to, knowing that after the pleasure, there would always be his guilt and regret looming between them? Just thinking of the pain was unbearable. She lay her head in her hands and closed her eyes, struggling to gather her thoughts.