Snowfire

by French, Colleen

  Alex eased her gently to the floor as she clung to him, forcing his mouth down on hers. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked huskily.

  "I'm sure. I need you; I want you, if only for tonight." Her fingers caught at the nape of his neck, and she smoothed the dark red curls, marveling at their softness. She gazed up at him, needing to see his reaction to her words. Would he think her a whore? The ache for him inside her was so great that she wondered if she would care.

  "That's fair . . . for us both." He kissed the tip of her nose and then rolled onto his side, cradling her with his injured arm. He tried to unbutton her damp flannel shirt with his left hand, but after several unsuccessful tries, she brushed his fingers away.

  "Let me." She laughed nervously. "I'll have pneumonia by the time you manage." Sitting up, she tackled the buttons one by one, never taking her eyes from his.

  As Gabrielle revealed her pale flesh beneath the old green shirt, Alex's eyes moved to her hands. "You're so beautiful," he breathed. With one hand he reached out to brush his knuckles against the stiff peak of one breast.

  Gabrielle's breath caught in her throat, and she looked down as his thumb made contact with the tip of her hardened nipple. She looked back up at him with surprise. "It feels so good," she murmured.

  Alex tipped back his head and laughed, removing her shirt. "Promise me you'll always be so honest." He eased her onto her back, smiling down on her.

  "What? I'm not supposed to say that?" Her face was instantly a mask of concern. "I've never done this before . . . I don't know."

  Alex leaned to kiss the hollow of her throat, touched by her words. "There are no rules, love." He traced an invisible line with his lips, leading to the valley between her breasts.

  Gabrielle held his head between her hands, innocently guiding his mouth to the ripening bud of her breast. When Alex's tongue brushed against her nipple, she arched her back, crying out with surprise. She could feel her pulse quickening as he suckled her gently, sending a rush of tingling pleasure through her body.

  Alex explored the arched fullness of her breasts with his mouth and hand in awe of her reactions. She sighed and moaned, laughing when his day's growth of beard tickled her tender flesh.

  "I'd have tried this sooner if I'd only known," she teased. Alex chuckled, lifting his head to nip at her lower lip as she tugged at his shirt. "Take it off," she ordered.

  When he slipped out of the shirt, Gabrielle rolled Alex onto his back. "What are we doing?" he asked, brushing his fingers against her flat stomach.

  A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she lowered her head to his chest. "Is it the same for a man?" she whispered huskily.

  "I don't know, I never—" Alex's voice caught in his throat as her lips touched his hard male nipple. He inhaled sharply, and she lifted her head.

  "Is it all right? Am I doing it all right?" She blinked, studying his handsome face.

  Alex laced his fingers through her rich brown hair. "Please, continue," he managed with a throaty laugh.

  Gabrielle spanned his broad chest with a hand, lowering her mouth to imitate Alex's actions. She wanted to make him feel just like he had made her feel. She brushed the tip of her tongue against his nipple and then took it gently into her mouth. He moaned, running his hands over her bare back as she taunted him with her innocent exploration.

  "God, Gabrielle," he groaned, lifting her head. "You'll be the death of me." Pulling her down on top of him, he crushed her mouth to his, deepening the kiss as he thrust his tongue between her lips.

  Gabrielle kissed Alex hungrily, touching his tongue with the tip of hers, daring to survey the hot, wet cavern of his mouth. Her hand brushed against the wool of his pants, and boldly she let it rest on his thigh.

  Delivering soft fleeting kisses over her face, Alex unbuttoned Gabrielle's wool pants, and she lifted her buttocks to let him slip them off. He couldn't help smiling at the sight of the soft, lacy, cotton underdrawers she wore.

  She laughed at his surprise, slipping her hand to toy with the waistband of his pants. "I have to wear something, don't I?" Her voice purred with warmth as her fingers brushed against his stomach. "Now you have to take off yours."

  Tugging off his own wool pants, Alex laid down on his side, running a hand over the soft cotton of her drawers. "They're very pretty."

  Gabrielle's eyes drifted shut as his fingertips sent waves of delicious desire coursing through her veins. She felt as if her body was not her own, as if it was on fire, a flame fanned by her lover's hand.

  Cradling her head in his arms, Alex drew off the lacy garment, shuddering at the pleasure of finally seeing her unclothed again. "Are you sure?" he asked, brushing at the dark triangle of curls. "I'll stop. You have only to say the word."

  "No." She arched her back, urging him on. "I'm sure, Alex. Love me, please . . ."

  Alex rested his head on her breast, tracing intricate patterns across her bare stomach and thighs. As he stroked the folds of her womanhood, he listened to her sighs of pleasure. They were the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard. Amber had never enjoyed his lovemaking, or if she did, he never knew it. This was a whole new world for him . . . a woman who enjoyed his touch, a woman who wanted to give pleasure in return.

  "Alex," Gabrielle murmured, rolling her head from side to side. "I need . . . I need—" She laughed at herself, forcing her eyelids open. "I don't know what I need. I hurt." She ran her hand over her stomach. "But I feel so wonderful."

  Alex moved over her, lowering his body down until his damp flesh met hers. They fit together as one, a solid bit of clay split and then reunited. "I know what you need," he whispered, brushing back a tendril of hair off her forehead.

  Gabrielle stroked the lean, hard muscles of his buttocks, lifting her hips with unknown instinct. Alex kissed her cheeks, flushed with desire, moving against her until her thighs were parted. He prayed he could hold back. He didn't want to frighten her; but already his heart was pounding in his chest, and his manhood was throbbing with desire for release.

  "It might hurt a bit," he offered quietly in her ear as he slipped into her, giving aid with his hand.

  She cried out with bittersweet anguish, rising to meet his first thrust.

  "You all right, love?" He supported himself with his good hand, brushing her cheek with the other.

  He kissed her dewy eyelids, and they flickered open. A smile played on her love-bruised lips. "I'm fine," she whispered as she rose up again, welcoming him. Her eyes remained open, staring up at his heavenly blue ones as she matched his rhythm.

  Alex groaned, trying to move slowly, his stroke long and deep. His heart was bursting with joy as Gabrielle murmured endearments in his ear, encouraging him, lifting her hips in reception of each thrust. Then suddenly she was moving faster, her breath coming quicker.

  "Alex," she cried, clutching his shoulders.

  "It's all right," he murmured against her cheek.

  Higher and higher Gabrielle soared until all conscious thought was gone from her mind. Then there was just she and Alex and this glorious, throbbing, incandescent heat. Her muscles tightened as she made the last leg of the journey, and then she was falling, wrapped in a blanket of shooting stars.

  "Gabrielle," Alex called hoarsely. "Gabrielle." One thrust and then another and he too was falling. Catching hands, they drifted slowly back to reality, bathing in the joy of their first union.

  Gabrielle's eyes flew open. She couldn't help laughing; she was so happy. "That was wonderful," she whispered, reaching up to run her fingers through Alex's auburn hair.

  He pressed his lips to hers and slid off her onto his side, cradling her in his arms. "You're terrific for a man's ego," he teased, wiping his damp brow.

  "I'm not supposed to say that, either?"

  "I told you, you can say anything you want; it's just that . . ." He paused searching for the right words.

  She propped herself Up on an elbow. "What? It's just that what, Alex?"

  "It's just that most
women . . . the women I've been with . . . my wife." He exhaled softly. "They don't usually let themselves enjoy making love."

  "Then, why do they do it?"

  "Good question." His voice was laced with mild amusement. "For a wife, I suppose it's sense of duty, as for the others . . . I don't know. They want to be loved, to be held, some want to be kissed. I guess they figure the rest must go with it."

  "Have there been a lot of others? For you I mean." Gabrielle brushed her fingers over his bare chest, toying with the mat of curly hair.

  "Gabrielle! That's what you're not supposed to ask." He nipped at her bottom playfully. "But to answer your question. Yes, besides my wife Amber, there have been a few."

  "Before or after her?"

  He lifted a dark eyebrow. "You're embarrassing me."

  "Why should it embarrass you? I don't care. I'm just asking."

  "You don't care?"

  "Well, maybe just a little." She pinched two fingers together.

  "Well, Miss Nosy-Box, I refuse to give you particular numbers, but I can tell you," he lowered his voice until it was barely audible, "that you were perfect. We're perfect together. No woman, not even my wife whom I loved dearly, ever made me feel like you did . . . like you do."

  Gabrielle gazed into his blue-grey eyes, studying his face. "You're not giving me a story, are you, Mr. Jefferson Alexander the fourth? Because if you are, I'll string you up like that moose." Her words were teasing, but beneath the surface, he could detect the concern in her voice.

  "No, I can promise you that I speak from my heart." He gathered her in his arms, and she rested her head in the hollow of his shoulder. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever met. I dreamed about you, you know?"

  "You did? When?"

  He ran his hands over her back and buttocks, caressing the pale skin beneath his fingertips. "After I saw you on the dock. I couldn't get you out of my head. You were there, and then you were gone. It was as if you'd never existed, yet I knew you had."

  "If you hadn't been there," she said quietly, "he might have killed me."

  "Who, Gabrielle?" he tread lightly.

  "Lucas Taylor." Her voice trembled. "The man who murdered my father in the Full Moon Saloon."

  "Will you tell me about it?"

  There was a long silence before Gabrielle spoke. "Yes. But not tonight." She lifted her head to look down on him. "I'm so happy tonight. Can't we just be happy?"

  Alex brushed her cheek with his palm, wishing he could smooth away the pain so stark in her face. "Yes. You're right. For tonight, let's just be happy."

  Gabrielle lowered her head to his chest again and began to run her hand over his muscular thighs. The cabin was growing dark now, as the sun set in the west. The flames from the crackling fire sent long fingers of bright light dancing across their naked flesh. She smiled to herself as she heard Alex groan, running his fingers through her dark hair. Proof of his growing arousal was already evident as she lifted her head to speak softly. "Do you think we could do it again, Alex?"

  Chapter Ten

  "Alex," Gabrielle called. "Alex, wake up," She tickled him beneath the chin with the corner of the bearskin rug they'd slept on.

  For two days the snowstorm had raged around them, and they had remained there in front of the stone fireplace, snuggled naked beneath the blankets, basking in the closeness they both needed so desperately. Other than to feed and water the dogs and bring in firewood from the shed, they had done nothing but eat, make love, sleep and make love again.

  For two days they had laughed and talked. They spoke of everything, yet of nothing. Alex had not questioned her about Lucas Taylor again, and she had not offered any information. She knew she had to tell him, but she didn't want to encourage his thoughts of gold mining upriver. He had already told her he thought there was gold near Jeremia's Bend, three days by dogsled from there. If she told him about the map her father had claimed to own, it would only fuel his fever for the gold. She didn't want Alex mining; she didn't want him to become one of them, and she didn't want him to die trying.

  "Alex . . ." she called softly again. She ran her hand beneath the cotton blanket, stroking his bare chest. "The snow's let up. Time to get up, sleepy-head."

  Alex blinked, opening his eyes, then squinting as he adjusted to the bright sunlight that poured in through the cabin windows. "Morning."

  "Morning." She propped herself up on his chest, staring down at him, a smile on her face. She would never grow tired of looking at his astounding blue eyes. "You going to lay here and sleep all day, or are you coming with me?"

  "The snow's stopped?" He lifted his head to brush his lips against hers.

  "Um-hum. We've got to fetch that moose. I need dog food." She ran a finger over his lower lip. "You certainly slept well."

  "Because you wore me out!" He tucked an arm beneath his head.

  "Aw, poor thing!" She pressed her mouth to his and then leaped up, dragging the blanket with her.

  "Gabrielle!" Alex shivered as the frigid morning air met his bare flesh, and he yanked the corner of the bearskin rug over him. "It's freezing in here!"

  "That's because someone was too lazy to go out last night and get more wood." She slipped into her underdrawers and reached for her grey wool pants that lay on the floor.

  "Me? What about you?" Alex grumbled good-naturedly.

  She turned up her nose impishly. "That's who I meant!"

  "Oh." He nodded absentmindedly, watching her slip on her clothes. He was still in awe of her lack of embarrassment when it came to his body and her own. Growing up here in the territory, far from the "civilized" states, she possessed none of the mores of society. She used her own head to decide what was right and wrong, not some silly social rules that his own sisters were guided by back home in Richmond. He couldn't help chuckling to himself as it occurred to him that never in his married life had he seen Amber totally unclothed. And here, Gabrielle was standing before him without a shirt, teasing him with a sway of her full-rounded breasts.

  "What are you laughing about? Me?" Gabrielle pulled a soft sweater of lamb's wool over her head.

  Alex shook his head. "Never you. I was laughing at myself." He smiled, his face glowing with a new-found happiness. He hadn't known what was missing in his life until now. To his delight, in the past two days, he'd found that not only was he falling in love with Gabrielle, but he liked her as well. She was bright, humorous and filled with an enthusiasm for life. Her mind was filled with a vast knowledge of the wilderness around her, and she was genuinely happy to share it. She had already promised that when the snow stopped, she would let him harness her smaller sled and they would take two sleds out to bring home the moose. "What better way to learn to mush than to get on the back of a sled?" she'd said.

  Gabrielle's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she opened the wood-stove door to start a fire. "Well, are you getting up or not? I'm leaving in half an hour's time."

  "Naw . . . I thought I'd just lay here and look at you."

  "That right?" Gabrielle's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Well, I can think of a good way to get you up." She grinned as she swung open the cabin door and stuck out her head. "Tristan, Anthony, Leo! Come on!"

  A great whoosh of frigid air swept through the room as Alex threw up his hands. "No!" he shouted as the snow-covered huskies came bounding in. "Call them off!"

  The dogs poured in through the door, barking and nipping at each other's heels as they raced through the cabin. Tristan bounded across the room pouncing on Alex and licking his face.

  Alex batted at the great ball of wet fur, laughing as he tried to push the affectionate canine off his blanket. "Gabrielle, do something about these mutts!" he ordered good-naturedly. He pushed and shoved the lead dog but to no avail.

  Gabrielle only laughed, counting as the dogs still came pouring through the door. "One little, two little, three little sled pups, four little, five little, six little sled pups . . ." As the seventeenth and final dog made his way through the cabin door,
she closed it, shutting out the snow that blew into the single room.

  Pandemonium reigned as the dogs barked and howled, chasing each other around the table and climbing over the bed. Anthony had found the cupboard where she kept leftovers, had pulled out a brown sack of muffins and was chewing through the paper. Lawrence was beneath the bed, gnawing on a half-cured deer hide, and two yearling pups were playing tug-of-war with Gabrielle's red felt hat.

  Alex struggled to sit up as Tristan settled his large brown and white frame on his human companion's lap. "Good God! How many dogs have you got?" He scratched beneath Tristan's long snout, and the dog whined contentedly.

  "Seventeen." She crouched down to study Leopold's injuries, pleased that no infection had settled in. "You did a good job on them. He's going to be fine."

  "Good." Alex pushed the dead weight of the dog off his lap and got to his feet, reaching for his pants which hung on the chair.

  Gabrielle couldn't help smiling as she watched him draw the red tweed over his hard-muscled thighs. "You've got nice legs, you know." She bit back a smile as Alex's head bobbed up.

  He lifted an eyebrow, easing the rough material over his lean hips. "Have I?" The air was filled with sensual tension. "What else have I got, missy . . ." his voice was low and teasing, "that's nice?"

  Gabrielle walked the few feet between them, ignoring the sled dogs that barked and raced around them. Reaching out with nimble fingers, she did up the buttons of his pants, letting her fingers brush purposely against his tightening groin. "Getting confident, aren't you?" She leaned against him, pressing her palms on his bare chest. She had grown used to this chest in the past few days and had grown to love the feel of the short, curly red hair beneath her fingers.

  Alex groaned audibly, taking her mouth with ardent fervor. "God, Gabrielle, I can't get enough of you." His tongue delved in the moist cavern of her mouth, savoring her nectar.

  Gabrielle's tongue met with his in a sweet dance of love as she molded her body to his, threading her fingers through his thick hair. She wouldn't let herself think about the future, about him leaving her; all she would think about was now, here. It was all that mattered. Just a few brief months of bliss, she had decided, and then she could live out the rest of her life on memories. "Tell me you love me, Alex," she whispered in his ear.