Elizabeth Lowell (22 page)

“I’m sorry,” he said, kissing her face blindly, gently, finding everywhere the taste of tears. “Little one, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She tried to answer but could not, for emotion had closed her throat.

He held her, rocking her in his arms, hating himself for hurting the girl who had saved his life at such great risk to her own.

“I owe you so much more than this...” he whispered, and he was haunted by the silken lady he had dreamed of so long, the wife who would be the greatest adornment of the life he would build to replace what war had taken away. “Oh God, what have I done to you, to myself?”

Janna shook her head silently, fighting for control of herself, not understanding what had caused the pain in Ty’s voice. After a few moments she was able to speak. “You didn’t hurt me.”

“Like hell I didn’t.”

“I felt nothing but pleasure.”

He heard her words, felt her hands stroking his hair, soothing him, and felt a cold rush of self-contempt. He had wanted her, he had taken her despite her innocence, and in doing so he had left her suited only for the life of a prostitute or a nun.

“You’re so innocent. My God, you don’t even understand what has happened, do you?”

“I understand that you didn’t hurt me.”

“I didn’t hurt...” His laughter was low and as harsh as the guilt clawing at him. His hands tightened on her as he realized the extent of his folly. “You little fool, I ruined you! You have no family, no profession, no wealth. All you had of value for a husband was your virginity, and now that’s gone. I’ve left you suited to be nothing except a man’s mistress, but you lack the social graces for even that
profession. You’ll end up locked in a nun’s cage or you’ll be the toy of many men, not one.”

Janna flinched and tried to draw away from Ty’s cruel summation of her value as a woman, a mate, but she was too securely held to retreat. He drew her closer, not even noticing her futile attempts to free herself from his embrace.

“Never mind, little one,” he said, his voice low and empty, echoing with despair at the death of his personal dream, the silken lady who now would forever be beyond his reach. “It was my fault, not yours. I’ll marry you as soon as we get to the fort.”

It took Janna a minute to absorb what he had said, what he had implied—and when she understood, she was wild with hurt.

“Like burning hell you’ll marry me,” she said in a low, savage voice.

“What?”

“I may be suited only to be a saloon girl, but I keep my word.”

“Janna, I didn’t mean—” he began, only to be cut off.

“No! I said that I wouldn’t ask for any promises or have any regrets or any secret plans,” she whispered angrily, telling herself that hopes weren’t the same as plans.

Not that it mattered. Ty had taken care of the hopes, as well.
No family. No profession. No wealth. No social graces.

And no emotion in his voice but guilt and despair and anger at being trapped into marrying such a poor specimen of femininity.

“I’ve never trapped a living thing in my life,” she said fiercely, “and I’ll be damned to hell for eternity if I take your freedom now. Do you hear me, Tyrell MacKenzie? Do you?”

“You didn’t take my freedom. I gave it away the same way men always have, thinking with my crotch instead of my brain.”

“You can have it right back—freedom, brain, crotch, all of it. I want nothing that isn’t freely given.”

“The world doesn’t work that way, sugar,” he said wearily, releasing her and rolling over onto his back. “The only virgin a decent man takes is the girl who becomes his wife. We’ll be married as soon as—”

“They’ll be picking cotton in hell before I marry you,” she interrupted, her voice shaking, her body cold and empty without him.

It was as though Ty hadn’t heard. “I’m responsible for you. I live up to my responsibilities.”

“I’m responsible for myself. I’ve lived on my own for five years. I can do it for another—”

“Christ!” he hissed, cutting her off. “Are you so naive that you don’t know you could get pregnant after this? How would you take care of yourself, much less a baby, too?” He waited, but there was no answer except the small sounds she made as she searched for her clothes in the darkness. “We’ll be married at the fort and you’ll stay there while I hunt for Lucifer.”

“No.”

“Janna—oh, the hell with it,” he whispered harshly. “We’ll be married at the fort and then we’ll hunt Lucifer together. Does that satisfy you?”

“No.”

She thrust an arm through a shirtsleeve and fished around for the other opening. Even if it hadn’t been dark, the tears streaming down her face would have blinded her. None of her emotions showed in her constrained whisper, for which she was grateful. Having marriage offered to her out of guilt was bad enough. Having it offered to her out of pity was unbearable.

“Janna, be reasonable. I’ll need Lucifer to build a good horse herd,” Ty said as patiently as he could manage. “Otherwise I’ll have no way to take care of my family.”

“I said I’d help you catch Lucifer and I will. Marriage was no part of the bargain.”

His patience evaporated. With uncanny speed he grabbed her, flattened her beneath him once more and began whispering furiously.

“Listen to me, you little fool. You have no idea how the world works.”

“Then teach me,” she whispered defiantly. “Teach me how to please a man, how to be good enough to be a mistress rather than a whore. That’s all I ask of you. Education, not marriage.”

“But if you’re preg—” he began.

“I stopped bleeding two days ago,” she interrupted. “There’s little chance you’ve made me pregnant.”

He should have been relieved, but the scent and feel of her beneath him was driving everything else from his mind. Even as he told himself he must be crazy, he realized that he wanted her again.

“This time, yes,” he agreed huskily, “but what about the next time I take you, and the next, and the times after that? Because if I’m around you, I’ll take you every damned chance I get.” His hand slid down her body until he could feel once more her intimate heat. “Satin butterfly,” he whispered, unable to control the faint trembling of his fingers as he skimmed the edges of her softness. “Don’t you understand yet? When I see you, hear you, smell you, touch you, taste you...”

A threadlike groan vibrated through him to her.

“You’re killing me,” he whispered. “I can’t leave you alone if I’m around you. I can’t live with myself if I get you pregnant. And I need you around so that I can track down Lucifer before he gets killed or this whole damned territory blows up in our faces. We have to get married, Janna. There’s no other way.”

“No.”

She clamped her legs together, trying to deny him the softness only he had ever touched.

It was futile. All she succeeded in doing was imprisoning his hand between her thighs. He made a sound of pleasure and despair as one finger slid gently into her and he felt her sleek, humid warmth surrounding him once more.

“I won’t marry you,” she whispered, her breath breaking. “Do you hear me? I won’t spend my life having you look at me and long for a silken lady.”

He hesitated, then slowly probed her sensuous warmth. “I hear you. But what are we going to do about this? I meant what I said, little one. Having had you, I can’t leave you alone.”

She tried not to give voice to her pleasure, but a husky sound escaped her lips. “Teach me. That’s all I ask of you. A mistress, not a whore.”

The words went into him like knives, twisting even as they sliced into him. “I can’t live with that. It’s not enough. You deserve much more. Come back to Wyoming with me,” he said in a low voice, caressing her because he was helpless to stop. “Silver and Cassie can teach you how to sit and speak and smile like a lady. They’ll teach you how to dress and I’ll see that you have enough dowry to attract a good man, a man who won’t berate you for what I took from you. Then you’ll be a married woman, not any man’s mistress or every man’s whore.”

“I’ll marry no man,” she whispered. “Ever.”

“Janna...”

Her only answer was a husky cry and her warmth reaching out to Ty, silently promising oblivion within her body. The heat and scent of her filled his nostrils, sending a wave of desire through him. Suddenly he wanted to bend down and immerse himself in her, tasting her essence, drinking the very secrets of her body. The thought shocked him, for he had never wanted that kind of intimacy with a woman before.

“You’re so sweet to touch,” he whispered, stroking her with slow, hidden motions. “I never knew a woman could be so responsive, so perfect. Satin butterfly, more beautiful to me each time I touch you.”

“Ty...” she said, moaning his name softly, feeling her tumultuous emotions condense into pure burning desire.

She knew she should tell him to stop, but she was unable to form the words. She wanted his touch too much. She had never known such ravishing closeness with anyone, had never even dreamed it was possible. The knowledge that he, too, found something special in her made it impossible to turn away from his need.

Ty heard the telltale break and quickening of Janna’s breath and didn’t know whether to curse or laugh as he felt himself hardening, succumbing to her sleek satin trap once more. She was a handful of fire, a sensuous dream, so recently a virgin and yet so generous and unafraid as a lover.

Her small hands found his in the darkness and she held them motionless, trying to still the secret movements within her body.

“Stop,” she whispered, yet even as she spoke she felt her own heat overflowing in silent contradiction.

“Why?” he murmured, slowly penetrating and withdrawing from her body despite her clinging fingers. “Am I hurting you?”

“N-no.”

To him the sensual break and shiver of her voice was as arousing as her heat welling up at his touch.

“You’re too innocent to understand how rare you are, how extraordinary this is,” he whispered, feeling the vital hardening of his flesh as he bent down to her. “But I’m not innocent. I know. I’d agree to anything in order to keep on touching you. I’ve never been like this with any woman.
Bruja,
sweet fire witch. You burn me alive and I tremble and spend myself within you...and then you renew me with a breath, a kiss, a touch.”

Janna whispered his name helplessly, moved beyond words that she could affect him so deeply.

“Renew me,” he whispered, lifting her hand and kissing it before placing it over his swelling male flesh.

She felt the helpless, sensuous jerk of his body as her fingers curled around him in answer to the pressure of his own hands.

“Teach me?” she whispered.

“Yes,” he said. “Every chance I get. All the way from here to Wyoming. And then—”

“No,” she interrupted, arching up to meet him. “No tomorrows. Just teach me. Teach me now.”

He started to speak, then forgot what he was going to say when her hands moved.

“Like this?” she whispered, measuring and caressing him with the same slow, sensuous motion.

“Sweet...God...yes,” he said. His whole body tightened and moved with her hands in a sinuous dance that made him tremble. He lowered his head until he could feel her breath against his lips. “And like this,” he whispered, fitting first his body and then his mouth to hers, thrusting deeply into her generous warmth. “And this...and
this
...
”

Even as Janna shivered and softly cried out, Ty bent and drank ecstasy from her lips, sinking wholly into her, wondering who was the teacher and who the student in the hushed intimacy of the meadow night.

The brutal crack of rifle fire at the northwest end of Raven Creek’s meadow jerked Janna and Ty awake in a heart-pounding instant.

Neither one moved.

No more sounds came. After a few minutes he eased away from her, grabbed his carbine and crawled to a vantage point where he could look out across the meadow. There was nothing in sight. A moment later he sensed Janna coming up behind him. He turned and shook his head. She retreated as silently as she had come. So did he.

Without talking, they withdrew to the place where they had slept. He reached for his backpack at the same instant that she reached for the cloth she used to bind her breasts. Although she and Ty had been forced by the cold to put on their clothes in the hours before dawn, he hadn’t allowed her to wrap up in the cloth again. Instead, he had curled spoon fashion along her back, slid his hands up beneath her loose shirt and caressed her gently until they both fell asleep.

As soon as her fingers closed on the binding, she realized that she wasn’t going to be allowed to use it this morning, either. He snatched the cloth from her fingers, rolled it tightly and jammed it into his backpack. Then he pulled her to her feet.

“I’d kiss you,” he said very softly, looking hungrily at her mouth, “but if I did, I’d undress you and lie between your legs again. That wouldn’t be a very smart thing to do right now.”

Her mind agreed, but her body swayed hungrily toward him. He let go of her as though he had grabbed something too hot to hold.

Saying nothing, Janna turned and began threading through the forest, circling toward the northeast corner of the meadow. After a few minutes she looked at Ty and gestured toward the meadow. He nodded. Together they walked, then crawled, and finally wiggled snake fashion toward the edge of the meadow.

In the clear yellow light of morning, the signs were unmistakable—a group of unshod horses had grazed the meadow within the past few days. The presence of small hoofprints and diminutive manure piles told Ty and Janna that the horses were wild, for hunting or raiding parties didn’t use mares whose foals were unweaned. Overlaid on the random tracks of grazing animals were those of a shod horse walking across the meadow and into the dense pine forest beyond. It was those prints that had attracted the Indian hunting party the previous night.

“Troon,” she whispered, looking at the prints.

“How can you tell?”

“See how worn the shoe is on the left front hoof? He’s too cheap to get his horse shod regularly.”