Wild Is the Night (32 page)

Her nightgown clung to her and she plucked at the thin cotton fabric, peeling it away from her damp skin. It was useless. She picked up her journal, wrapped a worn knitted shawl around her shoulders, then stepped outside to the star-studded night.

He sensed her at once, the way a wolf startles when a man enters his space. Amanda saw him near the campfire, framed in orange and black, his face half-hidden in the darkness. Without a word, he extended a cup to her, holding it out like a child tempting a timid bird.

Amanda entered the circle of light, aware that they were alone, and that the prairie had taken on a deep stillness that spoke of the late hour. She took the cup, accepted his offering, accepted him. What was it that made him so compelling, that made her body lean toward him as if of its own accord? Was this what was meant by a mating urge? Perhaps, Amanda dimly reasoned, there was more to lovemaking than what she’d already experienced. And even if it was just for the man alone, then tonight—to hold him, kiss him, let him touch her—it was worth it.

He still said nothing, but simply picked up her heavy braid of hair and kissed it. His fingers toyed with the silken rope as if with an aching desire to undo it, to run his fingers through its chestnut length the way she’d done earlier in the evening, when she and Aileen had washed down at the river. When he lifted his face, Amanda could see that his beautiful blue eyes were filled with everything she was feeling.

And wanting.

Silently, she held out the journal, the cream-colored pages whipping enticingly in the night wind. Luke glanced down at the book, and understood immediately the significance of her offering. She was giving herself to him, telling him in the most eloquent way she knew just what he meant to her. His eyes filled, and he fingered the manuscript, knowing that he could never live from this moment unscathed. He had become a part of her, and forced her to become a part of him. Little by little she had chiseled away at him. This odd woman with her sea-colored eyes and piercing intelligence meant more to him than every soft, girlish southern belle he’d ever known.

He handed back the notebook, giving her a smile that she would remember in her dreams. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered. “I understand.”

Tears rolled down Amanda’s cheeks as she took her precious journal, the writing a scrawling blur. She clutched the book against her breasts, her toes curling in the sand against the chill. Her lips parted when his mouth brushed hers, then she eagerly met him, her cheeks wet, her body responding joyously.

“‘Knowledge without reason is love,'” she whispered. “Amanda Edison.”

Chapter
  
20
  

Luke laughed softly, the sound sensual in the warm open air. Amanda shivered when his body left hers as he climbed into the wagon, then felt the steaming warmth once more when he took her in his arms. The intensity between them deepened when their eyes met and recognized the mutual feeling between them. For a moment Luke simply held her, then kissed her softly, fully, arousing her as if they’d never been together and he was a lover newly welcomed.

It felt good to have him hold her, good to feel the strength in his arms, and the sensation of desire returned. Amanda could smell the campfire on him, the sharp, cutting scent mingling with the smell of the outdoors and the spice of the pines. His hands felt cold and rough, yet their difference against her skin was compellingly sexual. Perhaps it was meant to be this way, she thought, then he kissed her and she couldn’t think at all.

No one kissed like Luke Parker, Amanda was certain of that. Demanding and forceful, yet persuasive and tender, he was capable of making a woman forget just about anything. When he unbuttoned the fasteners of her nightdress, Amanda sighed and helped him. Both of them were aware that Aileen and Jake slept nearby, that they couldn’t make noise, but the silence and the warm darkness seemed to add to the erotic atmosphere around them. As the nightgown fell down around her waist, Amanda looked up into Luke’s passion-drugged eyes and felt completely lost to the powerful sexuality of the man. She let him draw her into his embrace, the softness of her half-naked body warmed by the smoothness of his worn buckskins and the man beneath.

Luke cupped her breast, feeling her heart beat wildly beneath his calloused fingers. He wanted nothing more than to take her now, to lie her back in the wagon and bury himself deep within her hot female sweetness. Forcing himself to remember her first experience, he gentled his kisses, taking his time to arouse her thoroughly. His mouth lowered, then took the bloom of her nipple between his lips, his tongue flicking over the diamond-hard point. Amanda arched instinctively, her head supported by his encircling arm, her hair spilling backward in a glossy chestnut wave. Her eyes opened slightly, turquoise pools that were smoky and hot, framed by damp lashes as she looked at him pleadingly.

“Now, Luke. Please.”

Her voice was a sultry whisper, more arousing in the stillness than he’d ever dreamed possible. Ignoring her plea, he let his hand trace enticingly up from her knee, to beneath the hem of her nightdress. His mouth took hers as she moaned—his hand, warm and gentle, encountered the silky bare skin of her thigh. Amanda’s body spasmed as he lifted the material aside, and his fingers raked through the soft brown curls, and downward.

She would have cried out except for his mouth on hers, stilling her words, his fingers bringing her enormous pleasure. She squirmed, helpless with desire as he lifted the rest of the nightgown over her head, then yanked it out of the way. Free from the restraining garment, she lowered herself down onto the wagon bed with Luke, barely aware that he had shucked his own clothes. When he joined her, as naked as herself, his body outlined by the firelight and the dim lantern, she smiled joyously and ran her fingers down the firm, muscular length of him.

Amanda felt him suck in his breath, and the knowledge that she could excite him with her inexperienced hands made her brave. Ignoring the passionate warning in his eyes, she boldly stroked him the way he’d touched her, and was gratified to see his eyes close and his breathing quicken. It was a wonderful, powerful feeling to arouse a man deliberately, and when his mouth crushed hers roughly, his hand impatiently parting her thighs, Amanda knew she’d pushed him to the limit.

“Amanda.” She could barely hear his whisper. “Are you ready? Do you want me?”

She nearly cried out, but answered with her body, arching her back to take him. Experiencing a moment of fear as he poised between her legs, she relaxed as he seemed to sense her hesitation and instead of burying himself within her, he slowly entered her, one small bit at a time. Now, there was no pain, only the sensation of her body expanding, her hot wetness closing around him, welcoming him within her. Amanda urged him on, fully aroused now and wanting the fulfillment that she sensed he would give her this time. Yet deliberately, he teased her, making her want him even more, allowing her body time to get used to this intrusion before giving in to what they both craved. As he thrust more deeply within her, she was so aroused and so ready that the passion began for her almost immediately. Everything was obliterated for her except wanting, and her entire world was reduced to what was happening to her in that moment. Luke thrust into her again and again, and her body responded, aching for it, wanting everything he could give her.

And then it happened. Amanda’s eyes flew open as her body reached its pinnacle and climaxed with wave after wave of emotion. Clutching his shoulders, her legs wrapped around his, she pulled him tightly to her, overwhelmed with joy. Her reaction was so honest and unrestrained that any control Luke exerted was lost. Spilling his seed deeply within her, he held her in his arms, her heart beating wildly against him, echoing his own.

Then, she started to giggle. At first, Luke couldn’t believe the sound that came from within her, a soft, girlish laughter that sounded as sweet as a tinkling bell. Stifling her with a kiss, he smiled in the dark wagon.

“What’s so funny?” he whispered.

“Nothing,” Amanda sighed, contentedly. “It’s just that I’ll have to reformulate my thinking that females don’t derive pleasure from lovemaking.”

“Are you saying that you’ve changed your mind?” Luke grinned.

Amanda smiled, then reached for him, deciding that, at times, it didn’t pay to explain.

She showed him instead.

Jake and the others awoke the following morning, and with them came reality. Luke rose to meet them, then returned with a cup of scalding hot soup and a few doughy biscuits stuck on a stick. Alone in the dim interior of the wagon, Luke insisted upon feeding Amanda bites of the delicious bread and sips of the soup. It was like having a picnic, hidden from parental prying eyes. When she finished, he helped her dress, reluctantly pulling a soft wool gown over her slender body that was still pink and glowing from love-making.

Like two children, they giggled and played. Luke tried to pull on her boots, but it was difficult to slip the tightly laced leather over her finely shaped feet. Laughing, Amanda tried to help him, and ended up tumbling backward in the wagon. Luke’s eyes warmed, and she would have stayed there far longer if Pop Finnegan hadn’t called out.

“Waco! Got to get on the trail. Everyone ready?”

“Jesus,” Luke swore, while Amanda blushed hotly. He took her hand, loving the way she looked this morning, her hair tumbling about her shoulders, her skin radiant. Even her eyes glowed, reminding him of an ocean at sunset, warm and filled with soft colors. “You’ll ride with me today?” It was a question, very unlike Luke—uncertain and tinged with a fleeting shyness.

Amanda smiled. “Wouldn’t be anywhere else. As Shakes— I mean, I would love it.”

Waco! Amanda sat in the front of the wagon, adjusting her glasses to get a better view of the town. If anything, it was even rougher and wilder than Abilene. Cattle roamed through the streets as cowhands tried in vain to keep some semblance of order, but no one seemed to notice or mind. Well-dressed men and woman tended their shops, which appeared scarcely more than a few seasons old. The saloon and the hotel looked established, but everything else had the new look of a business that had yet to weather bad times. Ships lined the Brazos River, filled with cotton and cattle products, returning with just about everything else. Amanda saw barrels of rum, kegs of good Kentucky bourbon, bolts of cloth, and piles of finished goods. Like many of the other southern towns, Waco attracted carpetbaggers, those despised money grubbers who came from the North with their sharp accents and gaudy clothes. With them came gamblers and prostitutes, the scourge of the reconstructed South. With the formation of the trail and the newly found wealth from the Longhorns, the town wore a veneer of sophistication that already showed cracks.

Amanda was fascinated. Scribbling furiously, she recorded each impression, even the dust that covered everything, including her notebook.

“How far away is this place?” Luke asked her.

Amanda shrugged. “Maybe we should ask someone. There’s a store.” She gestured to a wood frame building sandwiched between the saloon and the dressmakers, with a red lettered sign advertising everything from boots to grits.

“Nice place.” Luke removed his hat as they entered, taking in the neat rows of cloth, tins of flour and sugar, boxes of fruit, and bushels of potatoes. Several men nodded to Luke, then stared as Amanda explored the store, poking her head into every nook and cranny. Luke sought out one of the men and asked directions to the ranch, while Amanda stood by the scale, ignoring the curious glances she received.