The Gambler (15 page)

He was serious. For whatever reason, Tristan
acted as if she belonged to him. Emmaline's pulse leaped again at
the realization. Why did he think that? Could he possibly care for
her more than she thought he did?

She met his gaze before lowering her arm. His
gaze dropped to her breasts. Wiggling out of the dress, she was
left in nothing but her silk bloomers and stockings. His arm
dropped to his side, the dress dangling from his hand. When he
lifted his head to look at her, her heart raced.

The dress he held fell to the floor. He
crossed the room, stopping in front of her and lifted his hand, his
fingers climbing into her hair. "What are you doing to me,
Emmaline?"

She didn't get a chance to answer. He lowered
his head and kissed her before she even had time to come up with a
response. His lips were soft yet firm against her own. He teased
the seam of her mouth with the tip of his tongue. She parted her
lips for him and swayed toward him when he slipped inside. Jolts of
need skated along her limbs, her back arching in an attempt to get
closer. She raised her hands, clutching the front of his shirt in
her fists and the kiss grew heated, her heart racing as Tristan's
hold on her tightened.

They undressed him in jerky movements. Her
bloomers joined the growing pile of clothes scattered about the
room before he lifted her, crossing to the bed and laying her down.
He smiled while running his fingers over the blue ribbon holding
her stockings up. Sitting up to his knees, he stared down at her,
the look in his eyes filled with heat and desire. She felt truly
beautiful then and spread her legs, offering herself to him.

He entered her without a word, the length of
his body flush against her own and she gasped as he set a pace that
caused tingles to race each other up her spine. His face was buried
against her neck, words she barely understood whispered against her
flesh. She understood his need, though. It matched her own. She
clung to him, wrapped her legs around his waist and dug her nails
into his shoulders, peppering kisses along the side of his
neck.

The heat in the room grew, their breaths
panted unevenly and when Tristan lifted his head to look at her,
her heart nearly stopped. She stared up at him, saw the darkening
blue of his eyes and willed her heart to beat normally.

"Tell me, Emmaline."

She blinked lazily at him and swallowed to
moisten her throat. "Tell you what?"

He lowered his head, his lips brushing
against her own. "Tell me you belong to me."

The words scared the hell out of her. What
was he asking of her? She looked at him and could see it then. It
was there in his eyes. The possessive heat of his stare scorched
her to the bone. He wanted her. Already thought she belonged to him
and wanted her to say it was so. "I'm yours." The words were out of
her mouth before she even realized what saying it meant.

He kissed her, his tongue slipping inside to
make love to her mouth as his body did the same. Their skin was
dotted with perspiration by the time her stomach clenched. Her
muscles contracted, pleasure rolling through her limbs so intensely
she screamed to release the pressure.

His thrusts quickened, his breath hot against
her face and when he climaxed, she wrapped her arms and legs around
him, holding him close to her as his body jerked, his satisfaction
apparent when he whispered her name against her skin as if it were
a secret prayer.

When he stilled, his toned body laying prone
against her own, Emmaline closed her eyes. The only word to
describe the way she felt was bliss. She almost hated him for
making her feel it.

Chapter Nine

The sun was going down by the time Emmaline
woke. The light coming through the curtained window was enough to
see inside her room but she didn't need to see to know Tristan was
still there. He was spooned against her back, one arm around her
waist and his breath tickling the back of her neck.

She stared at the wall and wondered what was
happening between them. The first time he'd crawled into her bed,
he'd taken her with care but very little emotion. Today was
different. She could feel it in every stroke of his hand. Every
kiss he placed on her skin. The words he'd whispered in her ear as
he loved her. In the way he made her admit she was his.

Now, hours later and he was still here. He
hadn't just used her and left her lying like so many had
before.

She closed her eyes as she remembered all the
things she'd had to do to support herself. Tristan wouldn't want
her if he knew. His calling her a whore wasn't far from the truth.
She'd never taken money but she'd taken other things. Food,
clothing, wood for her fire.

Tears burnt her eyes, her chest aching as all
those memories came flooding back. What would he say if he knew?
Would he feel as disgusted about it as she did?

He stirred behind her and she wiped her eyes
dry. His arm tightened around her, his face burrowing into her
hair. "You hungry?" he asked, his voice rough and drowsy.

She nodded her head. "I could eat."

He kissed her shoulder before letting go of
her and crawling from the bed. Emmaline kept her gaze focused on
the wall while she listened to him dress. When he rounded the bed,
one of her calico dresses in his hand, she reached for it and sat
up.

They dressed in silence and when he picked up
his hat and placed it on his head, she looked him over from head to
toe. And blinked. He looked nothing like the rich gambler she'd met
week's ago. He looked like every other man you'd meet on the
street. A hard working, rancher or cowpoke. "You look
different."

He smiled, the dimple in his cheek catching
her attention. "Clothes don't make a man." He turned and started
pulling her dresses from the pegs on the wall. When he'd gathered
them all, he looked around the room. "Where's your bag?"

"Why?"

"Because you're not staying here, that's
why."

He found the bag under the bed, shoved her
dresses in and looked around the room, hunting out her other
things. He had her packed in less than five minutes and motioned
her to the door. "Shall we?"

"Where are we going?"

"Home." The word sounded so final, Emmaline
didn't question were home was until they entered the livery stable
and Tristan collected his horse. "Where is home, exactly?" He
lifted her, sitting her in the saddle before securing her bag and
climbing in behind her.

"A few miles outside of town."

The trip was made in silence. All the things
she wanted to say to him were trapped in her throat. She had too
many questions to sort them in her head.

The ranch house came into view as she tried
to list the things she wanted to know and they all fled the moment
she got her first look at the house. It was large with a porch that
wrapped clean around three sides. She could see people in the front
yard and more coming and going from a barn that sat off to the left
side of the house.

They rode into the barn and Emmaline blinked
against the light change. She was on her feet before the room came
into focus and she could see. Tristan handed her the carpet bag
containing her clothes and she held it to her stomach as Tristan
talked to a man who took the horse's reins from him.

She turned her attention to the house and the
sounds of people talking outside. Her stomach started to ache the
moment she realized the people who lived here would have questions
for her and she didn't want to have to tell them how she ended up
with Tristan. The people in Cottonwood Springs knew she was dirt
poor and rarely talked to her, which was fine by her but here…
Well, no one knew her and having them find out she was Tristan's
charity case caused that ache in her stomach to cramp.

The sound of her name startled her and she
turned her head as Tristan grabbed her arm. He smiled and she
relaxed a bit as he started to the house, guiding her along with
him. They reached the porch just as a young girl ran out the front
door. She skidded to a stop the moment she saw them. "Who is
that?"

"This is Emmaline," Tristan said. He nodded
to the girl and smiled. "That's Alex, my niece."

Emmaline stared at the little girl and forced
a smile onto her face. "Nice to meet you."

Alex gave her a long look from head to toe
before turning her attention to Tristan. "You didn't say you was
married."

Tristan grinned. "I'm not." He started up the
steps, his hand still on Emmaline's arm, forcing her to follow.

Emmaline barely got a glimpse of the house
before they were climbing the stairs. Footsteps behind them caught
her attention and Emmaline glanced over her shoulder. Alex was
following them.

"Where she gonna sleep?"

"In my room." Tristan glanced at Alex. "Is
that all right with you?"

Alex's eyes widened a fraction. "Your not
suppose to sleep in the same room with a woman if you're not
married. My pa said so. It's why Aunt Sarah slept in the spare room
before her and uncle Colt got married."

"What Colt and Sarah do is their own
business." He gave her a stern look. "Just like mine is, so go
away."

They entered a room at the end of the hall.
Emmaline knew it was Tristan's without being told. His scent
lingered in the room. Alex followed them in and it wasn't until
Tristan turned and sighed that she knew his niece didn't like the
sleeping arrangements. "Go away, Alex."

She crossed her arms over her chest and
Emmaline smiled at the defiant lifting of her small chin. "Pa says
men and women who share rooms when they aren't married are nothing
but hell-bound sinners. If you don't want to go to hell, you better
put her in the spare room."

Emmaline stifled a laugh and looked at
Tristan. His ears were turning red. "You don't want to go to hell,
do you, Tristan?" She fluttered her eyelashes at him when he threw
a glare her way.

"Course he don't," Alex said. "And neither do
you." She turned and walked back to the door. "Come on. I'll show
you the spare room."

Emmaline had no choice but to follow,
Tristan's mumbled words lost as she left. The room Alex showed her
was the fanciest thing Emmaline had ever seen. Lace hung at the
windows and covered the bed. Bright spring colors covered the
chairs and the lacy doilies on the dresser let her know this room
belonged to a woman at one time.

Sitting her bag on the bed, she turned and
inspected the room before noticing Alex was still there, her arms
still crossed over her tiny chest. Her head was tilted to one side
and a quizzical look was on her face. "What?" Emmaline said.

"How you know my uncle Tristan?"

Emmaline opened her mouth to speak but
couldn't get the words out. She stared at Alex and knew this
question would come up more often than not. If she didn't have an
answer for a child, what would she say to anyone else who
asked?

Turning the tables on the little girl was
easier and Emmaline cleared her throat before looking her in the
eye. "Do you live here?"

Alex's eyes widened a fraction. "Yeah. We all
do."

"All who?"

My pa and grandaddy Avery. Uncle Colt and
aunt Sarah, but just until their house is built, and Tristan." Her
eyes narrowed a fraction. "And now you, unless you won't be
staying."

Would she be? Emmaline knew in her heart how
she'd answer but wasn't about to say it out loud. A noise behind
her caught her attention and she turned her head, seeing Tristan by
the door. He looked amused. "Isn't there something you should be
doing, Alex?"

The little girl sighed. "Yeah. I got to tend
to my critters." She gave Emmaline one last look before turning and
running out of the room, nearly knocking Tristan down in the
process.

Seeing Tristan dressed as he was, Emmaline
could almost imagine him as an everyday kind of man. One who worked
from sun up to sundown, getting dirty and tired just like everyone
else but she knew better. She'd seen him in his fancy clothes. Saw
him work a game table as if he owned it and heard the smooth words
he whispered that caused her to melt. Well, before she realized he
played her as well as he did his card games.

He entered the room, pushing the door shut
behind him and she knew by the look on his face that what they'd
shared earlier was far from over. Just because Alex put her in a
room by herself didn't mean Tristan intended for her to stay there.
He crossed the space between them and wrapped his arms around her
waist, lowering his head to brush his lips across her mouth. "Are
you all right? You look a bit pale."

Emmaline shrugged. "I'm fine."

He looked as if he didn't believe her but
didn't say anything more about it. When he left the room, telling
her supper would be on the table promptly at six, she sighed and
sat down on the bed.

The room was clean-smelling and warm and she
knew Tristan would keep her there for as long as he stayed but her
thoughts were centered on one thing. Her land deed. Being in the
same house as Tristan afforded her the opportunity to get it but
then what? Could she really leave him again? He'd been furious the
first time she stole it. What would he do if she took it again?