Sweet Words of Love

by Betty Brooks

  His laughter was loud. "When you get angry you forget everything you learned these last few days. But you need not fret, kitten. I have no intention of leaving you behind. I haven’t finished with the lessons yet."

  She grinned at him. "I was hoping you'd say that."

  Eloise's gaze flickered between the two of them. She looked confused, like she might have missed something, but wasn't entirely sure what it was.

  "I suppose I should go home now," she said quietly, gathering up her shawl. "You won't leave without saying goodbye?"

  "No. I'll get tickets for tomorrow, but we'll come to the house before we leave," Thorne said.

  "You'll bring Eulalie home with you?" she inquired.

  "I'm going to try, Eloise."

  "You think she won't come?" she asked.

  "I don't know. It depends, I guess, on her circumstances."

  Eloise's expression became almost angry then. "I could shoot Father when I think of that poor child being raised apart from us. I just hope she doesn't blame us for his shortcomings."

  "She is probably bitter about it. Why else would she be blackmailing him for the shipping lines?"

  "We don't know for certain she is doing any such thing," Eloise reminded him. "There's only that man's word about that. Perhaps he devised the plan on his own."

  "The whole thing certainly bears looking into before we know the truth of the situation," Thorne said grimly. Eloise left then and Thorne turned to Rainey. The thunderous look slowly evaporated and his tense body began to relax. "Now where did we leave off?" he asked gently, reaching for her.

  "I think your hand was about here," she said, pulling it around her waist and leaning toward him. "And your mouth was just a little above mine. She stood on tiptoe so that he could see where she meant. And when he resumed the position, she opened her eyes wide, then likewise her mouth and pressed her lips against his.

  She heard a muttered word just before his tongue darted into her mouth and literally stole her breath away. She thought the word was "minx" but couldn't be sure. Anyway, it suddenly didn't matter anymore.

  The only thing that mattered was the way he made her feel as he taught her the many ways to feel a perfect kiss. And that was good enough for her.

  Twelve

  The next morning Rainey donned one of her new gowns, a suit of black cashmere trimmed with bows on the sleeves and the front, and descended the stairway to the lobby. It was her intention to surprise Thorne with a breakfast tray when he woke. Crossing the lobby to the restaurant, she paused at the entrance and stared with surprise at the man who brushed past her.

  "Cage?" she said questioningly.

  "Why, Rainey Watson!" He appeared as surprised as she was. "I didn't expect to see you here."

  She sensed an uneasiness about him and it colored her words. "What in tarnation are you doing here, Cage?" she asked. "Followin' me around?"

  His face flushed crimson, but he recovered quickly and extended his hand to grasp hers. “If I followed anybody, you'd be my choice, Rainey," he said with a grin. "But the fact is, my sales company is based in St. Louis, and I had to pick up more samples." He gestured toward the restaurant. "Could I buy your breakfast?"

  "No." She grinned at him. "I was bent on atakin'-"She broke off and grimaced ruefully. "Dadgummit! I keep forgetting!"

  "Forgetting what?" He looked around quickly as though wondering if the something she'd forgotten might be in the lobby.

  "Forgetting to watch my words . . .diction, they call it here." She dropped her voice so it wouldn't carry beyond them. "They're trying to make a lady out of me, Cage. But they're finding it mighty hard going."

  "You were already a lady," he said gallantly, squeezing her hand lightly, making her aware that he hadn't yet released it. "So whoever they are, they're wasting time that could be put to better use."

  She pulled her hand free. "They are Thorne-Thornton Lassiter. You met him at the barn dance and his sister, Eloise," she replied. "And they ain't awastin' their time, neither-shoot! I mean either. Dagnabbit! This speechin' thing is mighty hard to get used to. I can't hardly say a word without first thinking on it."

  "Don't worry about it," he advised. "I find you perfectly enchanting the way you are."

  "Thorne's sister said those very same words, called me precious, too, but I ain't so sure. I mean, I would rather not stand out when it comes to speechin', and I do here in the city. Folks is—are treating me mighty fine, though."

  "As they should be," he replied. His gaze left her and traveled the stairway that led to the upper floor. "Is Thorne joining you for breakfast?"

  "No. That's what I was gonna tell you before. We got us a suite that has two rooms for sleeping in and one for just living in. I never imagined folks needed so much room indoors, not 'til I come here. I come after breakfast for the two of us."

  When Cage's eyes narrowed slightly, she hurried to apprise him of the situation. "We ain't sharing a bedroom, Cage Larson, so don't you go thinkin' that."

  "Of course you aren't," he said. "I never thought you were." He smiled widely at her. "Since you won't allow me to buy your meal, I'd better run along. I only have a short time to conclude my business here before I move on."

  "You're selling your pistols and such to the people who run the hotel?" He laughed abruptly. "No. I just had an appointment with a man who's interested in them." He looked around the lobby again. "We were supposed to meet in the restaurant an hour ago, but he never arrived. I suppose I'll have to catch him at his office."

  "Maybe you should ask the hotel clerk. He mighta left a message," she suggested. "If he's just runnin' late you could set on one of those pretty little velvet seats over yonder. That's what they put 'em there for." She pointed at the velvet settees, which were placed at strategic points along the walls.

  "No. The man, my prospective customer, was emphatic about the meeting place. Said if he wasn't in the lobby at the appointed time, then he would be at his office." He smiled at her again. "You better hurry and order breakfast, Rainey. The restaurant is already getting crowded."

  "I guess I better, then," she said.

  Muttering a hasty goodbye, Cage hurried across the lobby and out of the hotel, leaving Rainey to complete her task. She entered the restaurant, expecting it to be crowded to capacity, and discovered that Cage had been wrong. Only a few people occupied the room, and those had already been served.

  After seating herself, Rainey ordered coffee and some of the little French pastries that Thorne had been having for breakfast each morning since they'd arrived in St. Louis. When the items had been delivered to her, she signed the tab as she'd seen Thorne do and scribbled their room number on the paper, then hurried back to their suite.

  She frowned heavily when she found the sitting room still empty. Thorne was usually up and about before now, and she had counted on him being awake to drink his coffee while it was still hot. Setting the tray down on a small table, she sipped from her own cup and found the amber liquid had already started cooling down. She felt impatient with Thorne. She'd taken the trouble to fetch his breakfast and he wasn't up to appreciate that fact.

  She hefted the tray, crossed the room and rapped softly on his bedroom door. When there was no sound from within, Rainey pushed open the door and strode to his bedside. The covers were drawn to his chin and he breathed deeply, obviously sound asleep. She felt tempted to lean over and kiss him awake but managed to resist the temptation. .

  Placing the loaded tray on the nightstand, she allowed her eyes to devour his masculine face and she wondered momentarily why her heart always beat faster when she gazed upon him. She shook him gently. "Thorne, wake up."

  He opened sleep-dazed eyes and saw her. His lips curled into a lazy smile. "I was dreaming about you, kitten," he said gruffly. "And now you're here." His smile sent her pulses skittering.

  “I brung-brought-you some coffee," she said, exerting extreme control to keep herself from climbing into bed with him and pressing her lips hard against his.
Just the thought of doing so brought warmth to her cheeks. "And . . . and I brought something sweet for you . . . something special. The very thing you dream about waking up to every morning. It's right here waiting for you. All you got to do is reach out and take it."

  He blinked up at her as though she'd lost her mind. Then, incredibly, his face flushed with color. His gray eyes darkened, became brighter, as though he had developed a sudden fever. "What did you say?" he asked huskily.

  "I said I brought your breakfast," she said, enunciating each word clearly and slowly.

  "Damn!" he swore softly. "I should have known." He pulled the covers higher until only his eyes were exposed to her view. "Go away, Rainey. Get out of here."

  "No! I ain't goin' to." She glared down at him. "I took the trouble of fetching your breakfast and now you can damn well eat itl"

  He grunted something unintelligible.

  "Was that a thank-you, or a 'go away, I want to sleep' grunt?" she asked. When he didn't answer, she reached out and yanked the covers away from his upper body, exposing it to the cool morning air. "Why, Thornton O'Brien Lassiter!" she exclaimed. "You sleep in the raw!"

  "Get out of here, Rainey!" he said in a raw, husky voice. "Get out while you can."

  "I won't do no such thing," she said in a teasing voice. She had him just where she wanted him now. He was much too dignified to get out of the bed while she was in the room, so she could sit there at his bedside and drink in the sight of him while pretending to tease. As her gaze dwelt on his wide, muscled chest, her mischievous grin slowly faded. Heat spread through her lower body, moving to her most secret parts and making her feel weak. Oh, God, but he was beautiful. He was enough to turn a poor girl's head . . . unless she'd already met her true love . . . she quickly added. And she had met hers. Hadn't she? Yes, of course, she had. But it was funny how she had to work so hard these days to recall Robert Golden's face. Her memory of him seemed overshadowed somehow by the face before her, by the man whose eyes were so hot and slumberous, whose lips were so finely chiseled; the man whose muscles rippled as he reached out and cupped the side of her face with his right hand.

  She couldn't have stopped herself from responding to his touch if she'd tried. And she didn't. She leaned into his palm, loving the feel of his flesh against hers, feeling captured by that moment in time, wishing it would never end.

  Rainey knew she should look away from him, knew she should break loose from his hypnotic stare, but she could not. She was caught by his gaze, too helpless to look away from it.

  She felt intoxicated with his nearness, as though she'd drunk a whole quart of Grandpa's special white lightning. Her nostrils twitched at the musky scent of his body, and she felt the heat flowing from him, could see the hot glitter of his eyes just before his hand slipped behind her head and pulled her down until her mouth hovered only inches above his.

  Rainey shivered with longing. Nothing had prepared her for this. Not the kisses that had gone before-even though they'd set her heart to racing and her body to burning. Nothing.

  Oh, God, she hungered for him so, the way a baby hungered for its mother's milk. And all the while she remained suspended above him, wanting, hungering, voraciously waiting for his next move, aching des-perately for it.

  "Rainey," he whispered huskily. And then his mouth covered hers, demanding, insistent. His tongue probed for entrance, and she opened her lips eagerly, feeling the moist, thick intrusion and shivering as electric tingles spread outward from the center of her desire. He pulled her onto the bed then, spreading her length over his, and she clutched at his shoulders, straining urgently against him as she uttered a low moan of desperation.

  That sound-her moan-was the catalyst that caused his lower body to swell dramatically. His manhood pulsed, throbbing with desire, a fact that she could not ignore since there was nothing between them except a thin sheet and her own clothing, which somehow seemed to be coming apart at the seams.

  Somewhere in the back of her mind, Rainey realized she should do something, should try to stop what was happening while there was still time. But when she felt Thorne's hand dose over her bare breast, she couldn’t force the words past the tightness in her throat. Not with his tongue working its magic on her, not when she was filled with such longing for closer physical contact with him. But she must, she realized. While there was still time.

  Struggling to get her emotions under control, Rainey pulled away. "We gotta stop this," she said. "Else we're gonna find ourselves in trouble."

  "It's too late, Rainey," he said. "We can't stop now. Just feel what you're doing to me." He pressed her lower body harder against his, and she could feel the throbbing of his masculinity. His eyes were glazed with passion. "You don't know how beautiful you are this way. With your soft, silky hair falling against my skin; with your eyes, glittering brighter than the brightest stars at night. And your lips . . . God, your lips, so soft and moist, like early-morning dew against the petals of a perfect rose. And your breasts-" His fingers caressed her taut nipples, tormenting her. "How can you ask me to stop now, Rainey," he whispered hoarsely. "It's too late to go back now." His mouth closed over hers again, and she realized he was right. It was far, far too late. There was no turning back. She was in his arms, being held, being touched in a way that set her body on fire, and she didn't want to stop him, even though she realized she should. Yet she could not. There was no way she could disguise her pleasure from his touch or her need for it.

  When Thorne released her mouth, and fumbled with her remaining garments, Rainey moaned and tried to pull his mouth to hers again. "Thorne," she pleaded, "don't stop now. I need it, need you to make this hurtin' go away."

  "I will," he muttered, kissing her deeply once again. She knew he was watching her face closely, and realized he wanted to see the rapt, anguished need in her expression.

  Suddenly he rolled her over, until he was above her and she strained toward him, her mouth opened for his possession. "Do it, Thorne," she cried in anguish. "Hurry, please hurry."

  He lifted her slightly and lowered his mouth to cover her breast. She cried out and arched toward him, de­ riving such pleasure that she thought she would surely burst from it. He suckled her breast for a moment, then moved his mouth to hers again. "Are you sure you want this," he whispered.

  "Oh, yes!" she cried. "God, yes, Thorne!"

  And then her clothing disappeared, stripped away as though by magic, and his body was against hers with nothing to separate flesh from flesh. His hands rested on either side of her head as he pushed her legs apart slightly and leaned into her hips.

  She whimpered helplessly, shaking all over from mindless need. As she tried to pull his head to hers again, he resisted, but only momentarily. Just a mere pause and he was kissing her again. Rainey clung to him desperately, her body throbbing and aching, completely out of control, with no thought of hiding her feelings from him. His mouth was on hers, his tongue thrusting inward, demanding; its very roughness making the pressure build wildly within her. She loved the feel of it, loved the feel of his aroused body leaning heavily into hers. It made her body rigid, tense with desire, and she pushed her hips helplessly upward. Help-lessly, convulsively, she felt the tremors of his body as he sought to make his possession complete.

  Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through her. She gasped and stiffened. But it was gone almost immediately, and her body began to relax, allowing him to thrust deeper inside.

  Oh, God! she cried inwardly. It was fantastic! More than she'd ever imagined. And all the while he drove deeper and deeper, thrusting farther with each movement. Faster. . .faster . . . faster, building toward some unknown height that dangled somewhere just out of her reach.

  Rainey's heart fluttered wildly, leaping like a jackal: the bit that was trying to escape from a hungry wolf. Frantically, she sought for that elusive something that would bring her to completion. Uttering a low-pitched growl, Thorne arched his upper body, remaining that way for a long, shuddering moment. Rainey watched him,
wondering at the expression on his face. He appeared to be experiencing some shattering emotion. Then, suddenly he collapsed on her.

  Rainey's breathing slowed as she stared helplessly at the ceiling. What happened? she wondered. Where had he lost her? Why was she left with such an empty feeling? Wasn't lovemaking supposed to be a wonderful experience between a man and a woman? She'd always heard it was. She had always envied the newly married couples, whose happiness could be read in their expressions when they looked at each other.

  Married. Thorne never spoke of marriage. That thought sent a shock racing through her. Yet it shouldn't have. She'd known all along that Thorne had been teaching her how to attract another man. Robert Golden. But somehow, in the learning, she had become entrapped by Thorne. Oh, God, she cried inwardly. She had fallen in love with him. And he didn't want her! Tears filled her eyes and slowly brimmed over.

  Thorne rolled off Rainey and pulled her against him, feeling amazed that he'd been in the grip of such a strong emotion. Never before, in all his years, had he ever experienced anything like that. He stroked her silky hair, feeling the tension in her body, and silently cursed himself. He'd left her wanting and he hadn't meant to. But he'd wanted her for so long, so damned long, that when he found her wanting him, too, he couldn't hold back. But he would make sure she was satisfied, too, he told himself. In a moment he would be ready again, would take her slowly, give her time to climb those same heights that he'd climbed before giving her release.

  He felt her move against him, felt the wetness of her tears against his naked chest, and he frowned.

  "Don't cry," he said softly. "I know you were left unsatisfied and I'm sorry for that. But I'll do better. Just as soon as I've had time to gather my strength. I'll-"

  Fury surged through her. She rolled quickly away, glaring up at him. "Don 't bother yourself!" she snapped. "I don't need you to satisfy nothing!" She scrambled off the bed, snatched up her blouse and held it in front of her. "You polecat!" she cried. "You did that on purpose. You softened me up with sweet words, talkin' about my hair, all soft and silky and my-my eyes that was prettier than the stars at night. And . . . and my lips, all soft and d-dewy like rose petals. And all the time you was-was--" She broke off, unable to continue the tirade.