The Rancher Takes A Bride (32 page)

The news of her departure would nag her until she told him the truth. She had thought briefly of simply leaving, but that was not how she wanted to depart. She was not a thief, and she refused to sneak off in the middle of the night, like the swindler he thought she was. She would walk out of there on Sunday and catch the stage like everyone else.

At the top of the stairs she glanced over at his room. Light emanated from beneath the closed door. She tossed her hat and gloves onto her bed, turned, and took the few steps to reach his room.

Rose raised her hand to knock, feeling awkward, and then hurriedly tapped on his door before she could change her mind.

He opened the door and stood there, framed in the lantern light, his bare chest gleaming, with the top button of his pants undone.

God, he looked gorgeous standing there, half naked, framed in the doorway.

"Hello," he said, his eyes raking her with a hungry glance. "Did you have a good performance tonight?"

"Yes, I ... it went well," she stuttered at the sight of him staring at her.

"No more drunks?" he questioned.

She smiled. "Not a one. I think they're afraid to show up and take the risk of being beaten. Tucker has been there every performance making sure everyone is peaceful."

"Good. My brother is doing his job then."

She shrugged. An awkward silence fell between them as he stared at her, and the warmth of his eyes made her breasts tingle with awareness. His bed dominated the room, though it was only a piece of furniture. Its presence took center stage and she couldn't help but stare at him, trying to avoid looking directly at where he slept.

"I... I need to talk to you," she said, barely managing to get the words out. She loved this man, and suddenly the urge to fling herself in his arms was almost overpowering, but she resisted. She had to leave or forever be cursed by the knowledge that he thought her a thief.

His hand reached out and pulled her into his room, shutting the door behind her. She felt trapped as he leaned against the closed door. "What about?"

"I've been offered the part of Bianca for the duration of the play. The troupe is leaving on Sunday, and I'm going with them," she gushed, almost tripping over her words in a hurry to expel them.

Travis just stared at her; he didn't say a word.

"You can't hold me any longer, Travis. You must let me go. I didn't steal your mother's ring."

He ran his hand through his hair. His brow furrowed, and his eyes darkened. His face held an odd grimace that twisted her heart. She didn't want to leave him, but she must, for the sake of her future and her heart.

"All this time I've waited for you to either find the ring or the person who stole it, and all you've done is concentrate on me. I don't have it. So I plan on being on that stagecoach on Sunday. You can't stop me."

Travis took a step toward her. His eyes were unreadable, his face drawn, and she felt his edginess, even if he didn't show his displeasure. The air was so ripe with tension, she could almost touch it. His eyes seemed to engulf her, and she fought the urge to retreat across the hall to her bedroom. But she stood her ground, refusing to back down from him ever again.

"Where are you going?" he finally asked.

She swallowed. He hadn't said she was free to go, but he hadn't refused either. "Waco. We'll be down there for two weeks before moving on to San Antonio. They offered me a job through the rest of the tour."

He nodded. "I told you, you were good."

"Thanks. I ..." She stuttered, her eyes locked in a staring battle with his large brown ones. "Look, I can't stay here any longer. I should have left before now, but—"

Reaching out, he ran his hands down her arms. A rush of heat sent her blood raging through her. He put his hands around her waist and hauled her into his arms, molding her body against him.

"I don't want you to go," he whispered huskily, before his lips came crashing down on hers.

***

Desperation had him clinging to her. Greedily, his lips covered hers with an urgency that clawed at him. She was leaving. The very moment he'd been dreading was thrust upon him before he had time to recover from what the Pinkerton man had told him that afternoon.

He was filled with an urgency that surged through his blood, thundering in his ears, reverberating through his mind. This woman who tempted him, tantalized him, and had led him on a merry chase was not who he'd thought she was. Like a medieval knight, he had captured her and brought her to his lair, and now, when he didn't want her to leave, she was going.

And he didn't have the right to ask her to stay.

His mouth plundered hers as he melded her sweet body to his. His hands were everywhere as his need exploded through him in a gripping sensation. He needed her in a blinding way. He needed her to chase the demons from his consciousness and clear the voices from his mind. He needed her to chase his doubts away.

He'd been wrong once again about her. Rose was his own little con artist. She was not greedy and mean, but an innocent victim of a father who had abandoned his only daughter to somehow make it on her own. And she'd done the best job she knew how with the resources available to her.

Her mouth opened up like a flower, and his tongue caressed the inside of her lip, then swept her mouth, insistent and urgent. She wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him, pressing her sweet body against him, seeking what he was more than happy to supply.

With a swish of skirts, he lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bed. Needing the contact of her mouth to his, he covered her lips once again, nipping at her bottom lip, drinking of her sweet nectar.

Joining her on the bed, he curled around her, wrapping her in his arms.

The urgency to be next to her, to touch her, almost overwhelmed him. She was leaving, and he needed to be imprinted by her body one more time. To somehow absorb as much of her in one night as he was capable of, though he knew his thoughts were irrational.

His hand skimmed down the front of her dress, cupping her breast, kneading the soft mound, while he ached to wrap his lips around her sweet nipple.

He'd taken her once in a hurried fashion, along the banks of the pond. This time he wanted to linger over her body, explore her, relish in her sweet curves. This time had to be special, since it would be their last. This time had to last him a lifetime and then some, because he couldn't ask her to stay.

She tasted of erotic dreams and lazy mornings, and if this was a dream, he didn't want to awaken if Rose was not in his bed, lying beneath him. His lips trailed down her neck, across her silken shoulder, as his hands worked at the buttons of her dress.

His fingers fumbled, and she brushed them away. Quickly she undid the buttons on her dress and opened the bodice of her gown. He smiled and for a moment felt lost in her hot emerald gaze.

Until she pulled his mouth back down to her lips, collecting his attention once again, while kissing him hungrily. His hand reached inside and tenderly plucked her hardened nipple from her chemise, the pebbled kernel hard and wanting, just like him.

Reluctantly, he released her sweet mouth and continued his exploration across her shoulder and down her chest, leaving a trail of soft, moist kisses across her sensitive flesh.

God, he didn't want her to go. She'd brightened his life, she made him laugh, she defied him at every turn, and now she was leaving.

He encircled her nipple, moving closer and closer until finally he flicked his tongue across the hardened pebble. Rose arched her back, pressing the kernel closer to him, wanting more. She moaned, a deep, earthy sound, as he suckled her breast, his mouth teasing and taunting her with his tongue.

From the very beginning she'd attracted him, intrigued him. Yet he'd believed the worst about her, when really she'd been an innocent, left to struggle and find her own way in the world.

He opened her chemise wider when her dress got in the way. Finally she pushed him aside and sat up on the edge of the bed. She stood and faced him, her lips turned up in a tantalizing smile that left him breathless. Slowly, she peeled her dress from her body and stood before him in her under-petticoat, her chemise hanging down to her knees. Her breasts beckoned him through the filmy material.

Rose untied her petticoat and let it drop to the floor in a pool at her feet; then she stepped out of the cambric material. Her drawers peeked out from beneath her chemise as she turned and pulled the loose garment over her head. When she turned around, she faced him in nothing but her drawers, and he gasped at the sight of her naked breasts, pleased she was no shrinking violet.

He held out a hand and she placed her palm in his and he pulled her into bed, determined not to let her out again.

But Rose had other ideas as she promptly pushed him out of bed.

"Uh-uh. It's your turn now," she indicated with a wave of her hand, pointing at his pants. "Lose 'em."

She reclined in his bed, her dark hair splayed across his pillows. She looked as though she belonged there. This room, this bed, might have been made for her, and he couldn't help but stare.

A smile creased her face. "What are you waiting for, cowboy? Dawn?"

He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots off. When he was finished, she pushed him off the bed.

"On your feet. Last time was a muddy blur. Not this time."

Travis had never felt more self-conscious in all his life, yet he couldn't help but grin. He could play her game. He slowly turned toward her and unbuttoned another button on his pants. His hands moved to his feet, and as he pulled off one sock, he caught a quick flash of disappointment in her eyes. He unbuttoned another button of his pants and smiled down at her.

She grinned, catching on quickly, and settled more firmly into the mattress.

He reached for his second sock and pulled it off. His fingers flicked another button open on his pants.

He glanced up and met her gaze; the fire in her eyes scorched him, and he clenched his fists to keep from yanking the rest of his clothes off.

Gritting his teeth in agony as he tried to prolong the suspense as long as possible, he straightened and undid another button on his pants. His manhood strained as he tested the strength of the remaining button.

With a quick glance and a naughty smile, Travis unhooked the last button. Turning his back to her, he shucked his pants to reveal his naked skin beneath.

When he turned around, she took one long look at him and smiled. "Where are your long johns?" she questioned.

He crawled on the bed beside her and pulled her up against his naked skin, reveling in the feel of her satiny flesh against his.

"I don't wear underwear in the summer," he whispered in her ear.

She gasped. "Oh, my. You mean you're always naked under those pants?"

Travis chuckled as his tongue teased the soft ridge of her ear. "Just me and my birthday suit."

"Oh . . ." she said as he rolled over on top of her, his hands trailing down her silken flesh.

"Maybe you should try it sometime," he drawled, grasping the curve of her sweet bottom.

His hand returned to the waistband of her drawers and he yanked them off, sending the garment flying to the floor. His fingertips continued their path, down past her waist, down to the thatch of hair between her thighs. She was soft and silky and oh-so-warm and moist, just for him.

He'd been her first lover. He was the only man she'd let get this close in her short years. He was the one she had trusted enough to show her how it could be between a man and a woman. The man who held her captive, who'd never believed in her, who thought the worst about her. Yet, she'd trusted him.

"Oh, Travis," she whispered in his ear as his fingers delved into her moist depths.

Gently, he cupped the center of her being, while his lips nibbled on her earlobe. His fingers brushed her satiny folds, tempting and teasing while his lips brushed her neck, trailing down her creamy shoulders, sampling her sweet flesh. Her lashes fluttered and he could feel her pulse beneath his lips pounding rhythmically as, like a cat, she arched her back against his hand, wanting more.

In the glow of the lantern, he felt her heated release against his hand as he stroked her center, until she called his name out loud and he quickly silenced her with a kiss.

Before this woman, no one had ever called his name out loud with need. No one had ever abandoned herself totally in his arms, the way Rose let herself go. She lay limp, trusting, in his arms, and he'd never felt so connected with another human being in his life.

His hand reached out and brushed the tangled mass of curls away from her face, and she opened her eyes slowly. She almost purred his name.

"Travis, I . . ."

Her lips were too tempting as he covered them once again. He didn't want to talk right now. He only wanted to feel, to experience this woman.

Feel her body lying beneath him. Feel her flesh wrapped around him, pulsing against him. No thoughts of tomorrow, only tonight, the two of them pursuing the desire between them.

She slid a hand down his chest, past his waist, until she reached her final destination. He gasped, his lips releasing hers, as she wrapped her fingers around his hardened flesh, flicking the head with a gentle stroke. He lay back, letting the fierce pounding of his blood overwhelm him, as pleasure wafted over him in pulsating waves. She leaned over him, her hand still caressing him as her lips covered his. Greedily, she devoured him, her tongue tracing the edges of his lips, her hand sliding up and down his blood-engorged manhood.