When a Texan Gambles (22 page)

Fear gripped her heart. If she touched him unexpectedly, he might counter before he recognized her. He was a man trained to kill and hadn’t stayed alive so many years by not reacting quickly.

She sat down on the floor next to him, watching him sleep. He couldn’t be comfortable, she mused, but how many hours had he been there waiting for trouble to come knocking?

She didn’t make a sound as dawn spread light into the room.

Finally, with a sudden jerk, he woke. He stood, checked the lock at both the door and the window, then relaxed as he set the rifle aside. He stretched, working cramped muscles.

Sarah didn’t say a word or move. Eventually, his eyes came to rest on her with her legs curled beneath her nightgown. A slow smile spread across his face. “Morning, Angel.” Sam reached down and lifted her to her feet.

“What’s wrong?” She didn’t want to waste time. She wasn’t sure how much they had left.

“Nothing,” he said, but the lie reflected in his eyes.

Sarah gripped his wrinkled shirt in frustration. She’d known the peace of the past few days could not last, but she’d hoped it might linger just a bit longer. “Sam, tell me. What’s kept you away? Have you word about Zeb Whitaker?”

“No.”

“Then what?”

“All right. You need to know.” He nodded toward a chair, but she didn’t sit down. “I think Reed and his men rode into town last night. I make it my business to know an outlaw’s habits. Reed likes to visit houses of...” He hesitated, choosing his words. “... a group of ladies when he’s in town. I got word a few days ago that he’s worn his welcome out in Fort Worth, so I guessed he’d move on to look for his entertainment in the alley bars of Dallas. His needs are such that not every place can satisfy him, so it’s relatively easy to guess where he’ll go. I’ve spent the past few days stopping by and offering a few dollars for information.”

Worry replaced anger in Sarah’s veins. “What else? I need to know the rest.”

“One of the women who offered to help me watch for Reed disappeared last night. Her boss said it wasn’t unusual for her to vanish for a few days, but it worries me. I had no way of tracking her down, but I felt a need to keep an eye on the other women who said they knew Reed. I waited until the saloon closed last night before I headed back here.”

Sam touched her hair, then watched a loose strand curl around his finger. “I’d planned to return sooner, but thought you might be safer alone.” He sighed. “I tried to send word so you’d know I was near.”

“I felt you were close,” she admitted. “I knew you hadn’t just left me.”

Sam walked over and pulled a rope in the corner of the room. “They’ll bring breakfast up,” he said. “I don’t think it would be safe for us to go out together. Folks might not notice me milling around, but they’re bound to remember a beauty like you.”

Sarah shook her head. “No one has ever noticed me except you, Sam. I’m just a pale—”

“Stop.” He faced her. “Stop believing a lie.”

She met his stare. “You’re blind,” she answered, suddenly angry that he would keep claiming she was something she knew she wasn’t.

“Then let me stay blind, Sarah.” He pulled her to him. “You are the closest I’ll probably get to heaven.”

He held her tightly for a long while, as if he was unsure what to do with her. Slowly her body softened and she molded to him.

He smiled. There was no need for words. They both knew this nearness was what they wanted. What they needed.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and felt his sharp intake of air.

“You’re hurt,” she tried to pull away.

He didn’t loosen his grip. “It’s nothing. I was just backing up a young deputy last night in a street fight.”

“Sam Gatlin, you can not even leave me for a few days without getting yourself hurt. I swear to goodness, how did you manage to stay alive without me near?”

Sam laughed. “I’m not sure I was alive. Before you, I didn’t have anything to worry about. I didn’t have anything to protect.”

“You didn’t have anyone who cared if you lived or died.”

“And do you care?”

“Of course I care, Sam, you’re my husband. I’m supposed to care.”

Sam’s arms dropped to his sides. “I almost forgot. The rules.”

She felt him go even though he hadn’t taken a step away from her. “What makes you so mad when I say that?”

He plowed his fingers through hair that was already disheveled from sleep. “I don’t know. Maybe I just want you to care if I live or die for some other reason than it’s a rule the wife is supposed to abide by.”

“I told you I didn’t want to care about a man who’s got the life span of a moth.” She wanted to tell him that every time she even thought about caring for someone they up and died on her or kicked her out without a thought. She was sick to the core of trying to care. Couldn’t he understand that? Surely he didn’t think he got undying love for the price of bail.

Sam picked up his Colt and checked to make sure the chamber was full. “You’re right, Sarah. I may not live out the winter, but one thing I promise you, I’ll get you settled somewhere safe before I wander off and get myself killed. You deserve that much for marrying me.”

His smile never reached his eyes when he added, “I have a feeling my luck can’t hold much longer. When it goes, at least I’ll have the best-looking widow this state has ever seen.”

“What do you mean, your luck can’t hold? Do you call getting stabbed, shot at, and beat up lucky?”

“No.” He laughed. “I call lucky finding you.”

He leaned down and touched his lips to hers, then laughed when she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him there.

When he finally broke free, he whispered, “I take it you have no objection to my kiss this morning?” His hands circled her waist and lifted her off her feet so that she was eye level with him.

“No,” she answered when he lifted her higher so he could kiss her throat. “I’ve no objection. In fact, I’d like to be held for a while, if you don’t mind. I like the way you make me feel.”

“Are you saying you missed me?”

Sarah looked down at him. “I missed your touch. Please hold me again, Sam.”

“You’re a demanding wife,” he mumbled as he kissed her. “But dear God, how I missed you.”

“It’s not that I’m demanding. I’ve been waiting for a long time.”

“Then kiss me back,” he ordered, “and I’ll do as you ask.”

She placed her mouth on his as he lowered her level to him.

As before, the kiss grew bolder. He explored her mouth and taught her to respond. Fire melted down her body, making her ache to be closer. She starved for a feeling she never knew existed. A hunger to be near him. A longing to give him as much pleasure as he gave her.

She dug her fingers into his hair and held on as desire stampeded across her senses.

His hand slid into the collar of her nightgown and pulled several buttons free. As his mouth moved lower down her throat, she fought to remember to breathe.

“I’ve been thinking about you, Angel.” His words touched the hollow of her throat. “Thinking of kissing you like this.” His mouth moved against her as he spoke. “I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but I missed the taste of you as dearly as a man dying of thirst misses water.”

She leaned her head back as he pulled another button free.

The last time he touched her had been slow and gentle; now there was a hunger in his kiss that made her pulse race.

He lowered her on the settee, leaning her over his arm so that her back arched as he knelt beside her. With another tug, several more buttons gave way and his mouth moved lower.

Gasping for air, the rise and fall of her breasts moved against the sides of his face as he continued to taste her flesh. The stubble of Sam’s beard rubbed against the inside of each mound, contrasting with the softness of his lips and tongue. The cotton gown barely covered her, leaving her rounded flesh exposed.

It was only a matter of time before his mouth found the soft skin and gently kissed each in turn.

“I’m so hungry,” he mumbled. “So hungry for you, Sarah.”

When he raised to her lips, her mouth was already open. She trembled beneath him. Without breaking the kiss, he pressed his hand over her waist and tenderly stroked her. His fingertips moved along her waist, then slid to the small of her back, journeying downward to cup her hip in his large hand.

His hand returned to her back. “I missed the feel of you. Not some woman, or just a wife, but you, Sarah. You.”

The second time his hand ventured down, his touch was bolder, feeling fully of the supple body beneath her gown.

She welcomed the warmth of his hand spreading across her, loving the way he suddenly needed her.

As he became familiar with the curves of her body, she reveled in his caress. She rolled to her back and let him stroke her, needing the fire of his embrace over more of her flesh. When he twisted her back to face him so he could kiss her once more, there was an urgency in both his kiss and his touch.

Sam stared down at her with smoky desire reflecting in his dark eyes. “Open your nightgown, Sarah. Let me see you.”

With shaking hands, she pulled the gown down to her waist and pressed her eyes closed as tightly as she could.

“Sarah, look at me.”

She didn’t move.

“Sarah, did Mitchell ever see you like this?”

“No,” she whispered.

“Then look at me.”

She wanted him to know that she might be shy, but what they now did would never be an embarrassment to her. “He never asked. I never wanted to show him.” She fought the need to tell Sam that Mitchell had never seen her as anything but useful.

As their eyes locked, she realized the beauty of herself reflected in his eyes. He couldn’t have pretended. In some small way, and maybe only to this one man, she was beautiful. She truly was.

“Touch me, Sam,” she whispered, longing for the feel of his hands on her flesh.

His caress moved along her shoulder.

“No.” She laughed.
“Touch
me.”

Hesitantly he moved his palm over her breast. When his thumb crossed, she arched her back, begging for more. She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his hand moving over her tender skin. He explored every curve, returning again and again to cross her peak, then chuckled softly as she moaned in pleasure.

He was like an artist, warming clay as he molded it in his hand.

When she opened her eyes, she found him studying her. He shoved away part of her gown that had lingered as if he could not stand anything to touch her except his hand.

When he noticed she watched him, he asked, “Are you cold?”

“No,” she answered, wanting to thank him for asking.

“Does this embarrass you?” He gazed into her eyes as his hand tightened over her breast.

Her eyelids closed and her lips parted as a sigh of pure joy escaped. “No,” she answered again, marveling that she didn’t feel the least embarrassed. “Would you mind if I ask you to do it again sometime?” she whispered when the pleasure allowed her to talk once more.

A smile lifted the comer of his mouth. “I wouldn’t mind.”

He leaned forward and touched his lips to hers. Then, like warm water trickling down her throat, his mouth moved down, only this time he didn’t stay at the valley between her breasts, but claimed her with his mouth.

Sarah bolted upward with a bliss that coursed through her every pore. By the time he’d finished tasting first one and then the other, desire drugged her completely. He returned to her mouth and drew her very soul out with the depth of his kiss.

His fingers moved across her, touching her boldly now as he kissed her. She drifted in heaven. When he covered one breast with his mouth and the other firmly within his hand, she thought she’d die of pleasure. She arched her back and cried his name.

Sam stopped and buried his face in her tangled hair. “Are you all right?” he whispered, out of breath. “Did I hurt you?” He sounded unsure, as though he’d never done this before. “I’m afraid I got carried away.”

She moved her cheek against his. “No, you didn’t hurt me.” Low in his ear, she whispered, “Get carried away again, please.”

Sam raised hungry eyes to meet hers. Without breaking the stare, his hand moved to her bare skin once more.

She smiled as he memorized her with his touch. Desire fired in his gaze, warming her, telling her she’d not have to beg for his touch. She silently said his name, leaving her lips parted as he lowered his mouth to grant her unspoken request.

She didn’t respond when a light tapping sounded at the door, but Sam swept her into his arms and carried her to her bed. By the time he’d reached the bedroom, the man holding her had turned to stone. He dropped her onto the bed in haste.

“It’s too early for them to be bringing breakfast.” His words were cold, factual.

She caught a glimpse of Sam’s eyes, now hard as the steel of the Colts he strapped around his waist.

He pulled the door so that anyone in the hallway could not see her, then lifted his rifle before answering the tapping sound.

“Who is it!” All tenderness had vanished from his voice.

The tapping came again. More urgent this time.

Sam moved beside the door.

Sarah forgot to breathe. Her first thought was to hide under the covers, but if Sam thought bullets might permeate the door, they’d surely reach her.

“Step away,” Sam ordered through the door.

Sarah could no longer stay still. She clutched the covers around her and hurried to stand behind the opening to her bedroom. From there, through the sliver in the crack, she could see Sam. Something he’d said to the Ranger days ago flashed through her mind.
“They’ll have to get through me to harm Sarah. ”

She wanted to scream, “No! Don’t kill Sam! Not because of me!” But fear held her, packing ice water around her senses until she knew she could do nothing but wait.