Love in Disguise

by Barbara Baldwin

  His aunt came in, dressed to the nines in pink with a wide-brimmed hat on her head, even though they were inside.

  “Go on,” she shooed him with a hand. “She’s coming.”

  Aunt Elizabeth walked him back into the room, taking him to stand beside the minister. He kept his gaze glued to the door. When Hickory threw open both doors, Max found heaven on earth, for before him stood an angel more beautiful than anything he’d ever imagined. She wore a pale green morning dress, the delicate eyelet along the hem and sleeves giving it the appearance of lace. Her glorious hair was pulled atop her head, entwined with ribbons and flowers, and a cascade of curls fell down her back. For all the beauty of her appearance, it was her expression that made all the difference to Max.

  Her gaze was fixed on his, and he hoped the glistening he saw were tears of happiness. She hesitated just inside the door, her teeth worrying her bottom lip. He smiled and watched her lips curve upward and her shoulders relax. His chest swelled with pride when she reached him and placed her hand on his arm.

  They turned to face the minister. The vows they exchanged were etched forever in his heart. When the minister said the prayer, Max sent his own message to God, thanking Him for sending Abby his way, and promising to protect her with his life.

  “The ring?” the minister asked.

  Max mentally groaned. Damn, he’d wanted this day to be perfect for Abby.

  Aunt Elizabeth stepped forward and pulled her wedding ring from her finger. “You are named after your uncle, so I think it only fitting that you give your bride the ring he gave me fifty years ago.”

  She handed him the etched gold band, curling his fingers around the warm metal.

  “Are you sure?”

  Aunt Elizabeth smiled.

  “I love you and Abby as if you were my own. Jeffery and I would be honored.”

  Max slid the ring onto Abby’s finger.

  “With this ring, I thee wed. With my body I worship you and with all my worldly possessions I thee endow.”

  He didn’t wait to hear the minister tell him to kiss the bride. Cupping her face tenderly in his hands, he gazed into her misty green eyes.

  “I love you, Abigail Grant, and only hope I am worthy of your regard.”

  The kiss she gave him told Max she loved him. When he walked her out of the room, he whispered just exactly what he planned to do to her once he got her alone. And he specifically emphasized the word passion more than once.

  * * *

  Abby didn’t feel much different as they said their good-byes to Aunt Elizabeth and Forbes maneuvered the buggy through traffic to the train station. After all, she had been traveling with Max for some time now. It wasn’t until Max shut the door to the Pullman and began closing the curtains that it dawned on her they were actually married. And while they’d been alone before, there was a definite difference in Max’s predatory gaze. Her stomach flip-flopped in anticipation of the promise he’d made her. How many times had she wanted Max with a fierceness that made her ache? Now, he would teach her about those secret passions. He popped the cork on a bottle of champagne. Bringing one glass to where she stood, he took a sip then raised it to her lips.

  “One glass, one life, one heart,” he whispered.

  “You truly are a romantic.”

  She smiled, for it was unlike Max to speak so eloquently.

  He shook his head.

  “Only for you. You have become my heart, Abby. Do you realize that?”

  He kissed her, and she tasted the champagne on his lips, making the kiss sweet and exotic. She twined her arms around his neck, wanting to hold on to this moment forever. Max swept her into his arms and carried her along the narrow corridor to the stateroom. Where before Abby slept here alone, now she would share it with her husband. The ache within her was almost beyond enduring. He lowered her to the bed, and Abby smelled roses.

  The bed was strewn with petals, their fragrance heady in the small confines. Max scooped a handful of petals and sprinkled them on her, making her laugh. He sat beside her, taking one petal from her neck and gently rubbing it across her collarbone and lower still to the swell of her breasts above the décolletage of the dress. His gaze followed his hand, and Abby lay there watching the changing expressions on his face. Possessiveness, passion and tenderness played across his features. Yet his gaze held a question. She took his hand, the one that wasn’t creating tendrils of excitement to flow through her, and raised it to her lips. She kissed the pad of each finger.

  “Max, what is it?”

  His brow furrowed.

  “How in the world did I deserve you?”

  She smiled.

  “I think you have it wrong. You are my special gift.”

  Shy, yet brave from the knowledge that he loved her, she slid her hand up the inside of his thigh. Heat radiated through the cloth of his trousers; the throbbing pulse of him beat against her palm. When she rubbed gently across his manhood, he seemed to grow, pushing against her hand.

  “See what you do to me? I’m wild about you.”

  Max pulled his shirt over his head. He toed off his boots, kicking them across the room in his haste. She gasped, looking at him with wide eyes.

  “I can’t slow down, Abby. As much as I want to, I’ve waited too long for this night.”

  She watched him try to slow his breathing.

  “I know you’re an innocent and I don’t want to scare the devil out of you, but the ache I’m experiencing won’t lessen until I claim you.”

  She caressed the planes of his chest, awed by the ripple of muscle when her fingers slid from his shoulder to his stomach.

  “You are so beautiful,” she whispered. She felt such a sense of power—not over him, but because of him. He had unleashed her sensuality and she gloried in it. Now, if he would only let go totally. She sat, curling her arms around his neck.

  “Undress me.”

  She nibbled on his earlobe before kissing his neck. He groaned when his fingers fumbled with the buttons at the back of her dress. Cool air touched her skin before being replaced by warm fingers. He slid the bodice off her shoulders, baring her to his gaze. He worshiped her without words, leaning her back across his arm and caressing her breasts. Her nipples peaked, and he bent to pull one into his mouth, lips and teeth nipping gently. She cried out at the exquisiteness of his mouth on her. Knowing this time they wouldn’t stop with caresses, she felt a delicious heat course through her. He transferred his attentions to the other breast, and every nerve in her body tingled at the delicious tug he exerted. He laid her back against the pillow. She sighed with reluctance when his mouth left her. He tugged on her dress until it slid all the way off. His callused palm etched a heated path from her ribs downward. When he stopped to twirl a finger in her navel, the erotic sensations left her shaking.

  “Max?”

  She cried his name in anguish when he left her side, his hands and mouth no longer on her.

  “I’m right here, Angel.”

  She opened her eyes to where he stood by the bed, removing his breeches. The light from a single candle played off his bronze skin. Abby let her gaze follow the lines of his body from head to toe and back. He stood close enough to touch. When she did, he sucked in his breath, and his manhood lifted in response. He was soft, like velvet, but hard as steel. Her hand circled his length, caressing him, drawing him toward her.

  “You’re killing me,” he moaned, coming down on top of her and forcing her to let go. He kissed a path across her collarbone, up her throat to her chin. Before he reached her mouth, he kissed downward to her breasts.

  “You’re so…different from me.”

  She slid her hands up his back, enjoying the freedom to touch him anywhere she wanted.

  “We were made that way, to fit together perfectly,” he said, his reply muffled when he kissed her stomach.

  “Teach me, Max. Show me how we fit together.”

  Max’s control snapped at her plea. She was his, forever, and he worshiped her. Hi
s hands and mouth moved across her skin, leaving no inch untouched. He sucked her nipples to peaks. His fingers slid between her legs, preparing her. She was already wet and hot and he desperately wanted her.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispered, settling his hips between hers. He rocked back and forth, the tip of his shaft sliding along her cleft. He slipped inside, penetrating her one agonizing inch at a time. He reached between them, rubbing that secret, sensitive spot, and she climaxed, squeezing around him until he thought he would die. At the height of her orgasm, as she cried his name, Max pushed through the barrier of her virginity and sank deep into her. Instead of crying out in pain, Abby wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer still.

  “More.”

  Her frenzied whisper caused him to pulse in response. He began to move, slowly at first, then faster. Abby clutched her legs tighter around him. Her passion ignited fires he’d never known. The harder he drove into her, the more she seemed to want. He was about to burst when she stopped beneath him. He lifted himself to his elbows and looked at her. Her eyes were wide with passion, her sweet lips forming a silent “o”.

  Then he felt it—the first tremors of another climax. A glorious smile broke across her face.

  “Again?” she asked in genuine surprise.

  “Oh, yes, Angel. As many times as you want.”

  Max thrust again and then again, pushing her over the edge and quickly following. It was the most wonderful, consuming experience of his life.

  * * *

  In the aftermath of their passion, Max lay sideways to Abby, his head on her stomach and one hand resting on her breast. Her hand caressed his hair, brushing the damp strands off his forehead. Strange that she felt no embarrassment lying there naked.

  “Did you mean what you said?” His throaty drawl drew her attention; that and the lazy circles he made on her breast with his finger.

  “Mmmm—that it was wonderful?” She smiled dreamily.

  “Well, that too, but…” He sounded hesitant, but she understood what he needed to hear.

  “That I love you?”

  She lifted his hand to place a kiss in his palm.

  “Yes, that.”

  She sighed, letting his hand drop to the mattress.

  “I’m afraid so.”

  He lifted himself up, a frown marring his features.

  “What kind of answer is that?”

  She couldn’t look at him. “I guess I don’t live up to the standards of independent women, if I succumb so easily to the wiles of a man.”

  He rolled over, bringing her on top of him. She felt his heat against her leg.

  “You’re being ridiculous. I’ve found that being independent doesn’t necessarily mean being alone. A man and woman can create a union while at the same time supporting each other’s separateness. Being married doesn’t mean you give up who you are. I’m the other half of you, and you’re the half that’s been missing from my life. Together we make a whole.”

  Abby squirmed against him.

  “You do have a way of putting things that makes it sound right.”

  “Of course I’m right, Mrs. Grant,” he growled.

  “Let me show you just how right I can be.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Max assured Abby it would only take a few days—three at the most—to get to San

  Francisco now that the railroad was complete. They would transfer lines in Cheyenne, going from the Denver Pacific to the Union Pacific. Once they reached Ogden they would transfer to the Central Pacific, which would take them through Reno and south into San Francisco. He told her this in a roundabout way in the middle of the night as he lay in bed beside her. She was trying to catch her breath after he had passionately loved her yet again. Though he’d been able to speak, her hand on his bare chest assured her that his heart, like hers, was far from back to normal. She thought if she were to choose, she would prefer to stay in bed with him for the entire trip.

  Last night’s lovemaking was more exquisite than anything she could have imagined. He’d treated her with a tenderness she found impossible to resist. By giving to her, he’d allowed her the freedom to express herself—to enjoy what he did, knowing it was a natural part of the union of a man and woman. He told her they were partners—equals. Abby knew how special that admission was, for it was quite different from the attitudes of most men of her acquaintance.

  The train rocked along the tracks. Dawn was just beginning to chase away the dark, and she knew they would be in Cheyenne before long. She wondered if there was time… Rolling over, she brushed a hand across Max’s chest, sliding the sheet downward. He snorted in his sleep and tried to retrieve the cover, but Abby maintained a tight hold.

  When he relaxed again, she continued her mischief, uncovering inch after inch of glorious skin. She loved looking at him. His chest rippled with muscle, and though he was strong enough to bring a man down, he’d been extremely gentle with her. Well, not so very gentle part of the time, she recalled with a smile.

  Propping herself on an elbow, she began tracing a pattern across his chest with her finger. His chest continued to rise and fall in even sleep. She circled his nipple. He certainly slept deeply, she thought, leaning forward. She licked the small, flat nipple until it pebbled. She shivered with anticipation when she slid her hand over his rib cage to his flat stomach. His skin quivered beneath her touch, and she delighted in knowing that even asleep, his body responded to her.

  She now knew what lay beneath the sheet that barely covered his hips, but she felt shy about embarking on this discovery mission. Still, he was asleep and probably wouldn’t notice. Her hand delved beneath the sheet, feeling the smooth skin of his hip. Not able to conceal her enthusiasm for this wicked pleasure he’d introduced her to, she lifted the sheet to reveal his manhood. Heat curled through her at the sight of him, long and thick and beautiful.

  Novice that she was, she hadn’t taken the initiative to explore him last night. Now, she decided to rectify that oversight. She closed her eyes and caressed him, enjoying the throbbing heat, the silky smoothness. Circling his manhood, she slid her hand along his length, tightening her hold when it throbbed.

  “I have died and gone to heaven.”

  He caressed her bare back. She turned her head to look at him, but didn’t remove her hand.

  “How long have you been awake?”

  “You don’t think I could possibly sleep through that, do you?”

  He slid his hand around to capture her breast. His thumb and forefinger rubbed her taut nipple.

  “Could you?”

  She rolled over, laying her head on his hips and stretching, opening herself to his caresses. She doubted she could get enough of him in a lifetime of making love.

  “Can we do it again?”

  “Do what?”

  She turned, sliding sensuously up his body, the coarse hair on his chest abrading her breasts. His glittering blue gaze told her he knew exactly what she wanted, but preferred that she ask.

  “Make love to me, Max.” She wiggled against his hips. “Please?”

  Groaning, he rolled her over, pinning her beneath him. She loved the pressure of his body on hers.

  “We shouldn’t. You have to be tender after last night.”

  Even as he spoke, she felt his manhood slide against her.

  “I’m not.”

  “You’re not?”

  She shook her head.

  “Does that mean I did something wrong, or did you do something very, very right?”

  She punctuated her words with kisses to his chin. Her fingers stroked down his back. Max growled, his hips positioning his manhood perfectly.

  “It was more than right, Mrs. Grant. It was…”

  He slid into her, a deep sigh escaping. She sucked in her breath.

  “Wonderful?”

  “Superb.”

  “Magnificent?”

  She gasped when he rocked forward.

  “Spectacular.”


  By then Abby was beyond talking.

  * * *

  Max and Abby returned to the Pullman after stretching their legs while changing trains in Cheyenne. When Max opened the door for her, they found Connors setting the table for dinner.

  “I decided to try my luck on the Union Pacific. Besides, the Kansas Pacific became rather mundane after you both left in Denver.”

  He grinned, motioning Abby to a chair.

  “It’s nice to see you again,” she greeted him, taking the seat he offered. Max sat across from her. He poured wine in two glasses.

  “I see you’re recovered, Miss O’Brien.”

  “It’s Mrs. Grant, now.” Max smiled at her, lifting his glass in silent salute.

  Abby’s heart flip-flopped. She was happy to see Max smile much more often now.

  “Well, congratulations. I’m glad I asked the chef to fix something special when I heard you were to be aboard.”

  With a flourish, Connors removed the covers from the platters.

  “Beef Wellington, asparagus in hollandaise sauce, parsley potatoes and strawberries in cream for dessert.”

  “Fantastic, Connors. Remind me to keep you around.”

  Max delved into the meal, scooping large helpings of everything onto his plate. Abby laughed. He looked at her, fork halfway to his mouth.

  “I’m sorry.” She hid her giggle behind her hand.

  “You act as though you’re starved when we just ate in Cheyenne.”

  He frowned. “Having a biscuit and tea at that little shop is not eating.”

  He lowered his voice to a whisper, his gaze shifting to where Connors was placing the covers on the tray, then back to Abby.

  “That’s like saying nibbling on your ear is the same as making love to you.”