by Sara Luck
“Jana isn’t a guest,” Benji said. “She lives here.”
“Oh?”
Drew laughed nervously. “It isn’t what you think. Mrs. Considine was called back to Missouri, so Jana kindly agreed to take her place for a while. And it’s a good thing she was here. Both boys have had the mumps.”
“But I’m not sick anymore,” Sam said.
“That’s why I’m here. Mr. Malone, when will Sam be coming back to school? You do understand that it is your obligation to educate your son?”
“That’s what I’m doing. I’ve hired Miss Hartmann as a private tutor for Sam.”
Della shook her head. “With all due respect, Mr. Malone, a private tutor hardly takes the place of a trained teacher. I was educated at Vasser.”
“Oh, yes, I remember,” Jana said. “You had the lead in three plays if I recall. Well, I was educated at McKendree.” She knew Della Peterson had no idea where or what McKendree was, but Jana wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of being told.
“I’m sure the child has lost every bit of learning I have drilled into his head. He will undoubtedly be asked to repeat the primary session thanks to your ignorance, Miss Hartmann.”
“That’s enough,” Drew said. “Sam, go get your book. I think Miss Peterson should hear you read.”
“Yes, sir.” Sam ran into another room. A moment later he returned with Swinton’s Third Reader.
Jana took the book from Sam, then handed it to Della. “Select any story.”
“That’s impossible,” Della said as she glanced at the book. “Not even my best readers can read from this book.” She threw the book on the table.
Then, without taking her gaze off Della, Jana picked up the book and opened it to a random page.
“Read from this page, Sam,” Jana said, handing the book to him and keeping her eyes steadily on Miss Peterson.
Sam began reading: “ ‘What a pretty custom! And how kind and thoughtful! For in that country the winter is very long and the snow lies on the ground for eight or nine months: So the poor little birds have hard work to pick up food.’ ”
“I think that’s enough, Sam, thank you,” Jana said.
“I thank you for your interest, Miss Peterson,” Drew said as he rose from the table. “But as you can see, Sam is progressing quite nicely.” Drew smiled. “You have yourself to thank. After all, it was your suggestion that all he needed was more personal attention.”
“Yes, but I didn’t mean . . .” With a sigh of frustration Della stopped. “I do not think you are raising your children in a moral home. When people begin to talk, it will be these two precious boys who will suffer. And you—a pillar of Bismarck society. What will people think?”
“I don’t care what people think, Miss Peterson,” Drew said coldly. “And I especially don’t give a damn what you think. Now, if you don’t mind, our supper is getting cold.”
“Well, I never!”
“Miss Peterson, you know where the door is,” Drew said, turning his back to the woman and taking his seat at the table.
The teacher turned in a huff and slammed the door as she left.
“I fear that woman will make trouble,” Jana said.
“Don’t worry about her,” Drew said. “As long as you’re tutoring Sam, no one can say he’s truant. I’m sure we’ve heard the last of Miss Peterson.”
Della Peterson could hardly contain her anger when she returned to the boardinghouse where she lived. How could Drew Malone dare speak to her in such a fashion! She—the best-educated woman in Bismarck!
She had gone to his home with only the best interest of his son at stake. She told herself her only concern was for Samuel, and his prolonged absence from school. She had been willing to offer whatever assistance she could in helping him catch up with the other students. But when she fully investigated the situation, she discovered that the problem was much larger than mere truancy. Those two innocent children were being exposed to indecent—no, scandalous—behavior.
She knew immediately how she would take care of Drew Malone. He would rue the day he had ever thrown Della Peterson out of his house. She sat down at her desk and began to compose a letter.
About a week after Della Peterson’s unexpected—and unwanted—visit, Drew came home in the middle of the afternoon. Accompanying him was a tall, handsome man, standing ramrod straight. He had piercing dark eyes, and a perfectly waxed, tightly curled mustache that stretched easily four inches, ending in needle-pointed, waxed tips. He was wearing a uniform of blue and gold, festooned with so many medals that Jana wondered how he found enough room on the tunic to wear them all.
“Jana, this is the Marquis de Morès. He is the gentleman who has been keeping me so busy of late, and, Antoine, this is Jana Hartmann.”
De Morès clicked his heels and made a slight bow. “Good afternoon, Mademoiselle Hartmann. It is my pleasure to meet you.”
“Le plaisir est pour moi, monsieur, Marquis de Morès,” Jana replied.
De Morès smiled broadly as he turned to Drew. “A charming young lady, the most cosmopolitan I have met on the frontier.” He held up his finger. “As the husband of a beautiful, intelligent, and educated woman, I advise you to . . . accrochez-vous à son. That is, hang on to her.”
“I intend to,” Drew said with a smile that Jana could only call possessive. “Jana, I’m going to see that the marquis and his valet are settled at the Sheridan House, where Frank’s joining us for dinner. Will you explain to the boys that I won’t read to them tonight?”
“How I envy you, my friend. The Marquise de Morès would be by my side this very day if we were not awaiting the birth of our first child. Miss Hartmann, I hope that you and Medora can become friends, just as Drew and I are.”
“Please, I am Jana, and I look forward to meeting the marquise.”
Drew clasped Jana’s hand in his as he pulled her toward the door. “I’ll see you tonight,” Drew said, and put her hand to his lips as he and de Morès left the house.
After Drew left, Jana decided to make potato dumplings for her and the boys’ supper. As she was forming the balls, she felt close to her mother, envisioning her doing the same thing. Potato dumplings had been a favorite dish that Marta had often made for Jana when she was a child. She wondered if Sam and Benji would ever think back and remember her making these for them. Or would they even remember her at all?
After supper Jana played a game of checkers with Sam, then as Sam read to them, she helped Benji draw pictures on his slate. Near eight o’clock both boys began yawning, so she suggested they go to bed, which they agreed to do so if she would read a chapter from the book that Drew usually read to them. When she noticed both boys’ eyes were closed, she tiptoed out and closed their door.
Jana was in the kitchen setting the sourdough bread to rise when Drew came in. He stepped up behind her and put his arms around her waist as he nuzzled the back of her neck.
“Are the boys in bed?”
“Yes, and asleep.”
“You are so good with them, Jana, and it’s only because of that, that I feel comfortable doing what I have to do.”
“And what would that be, Mr. Malone?” Jana turned to face him, putting her arms around his neck.
“Frank was planning to go with de Morès to Little Missouri, but the venue for the case he’s defending has been moved to Jamestown, so he’ll be gone for at least a week, maybe more. Anyway, tonight, we decided that I’ll go with de Morès instead of Frank, and except for leaving the boys with you, it makes more sense for me to go. I’ll be gone for a couple of weeks at a minimum, and we can stay at Rimfire while we’re out there.”
“Oh, Drew, do you have to go with him? It seemed to me like the marquis could take care of just about anything that might come up.”
“Would you rather not stay with the boys?” Drew asked, drawing back from Jana.
“It’s not that . . . it’s just . . . I’ll miss you.”
“And I’ll miss you, too.” Drew kissed her dismi
ssively on the tip of her nose, then turned to go to his office. “I’ve got a lot of work to do tonight before I’m ready to go. You’ll be up before I have to leave in the morning, won’t you?”
“Yes, Drew. I’ll be up.”
As Jana watched Drew go toward his office, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of abandonment. He was going to be gone for at least two weeks. Surely, their relationship had advanced beyond a simple peck on the nose.
He had told her the night of the play that when he returned from Little Missouri he wanted to have a very serious talk with her—one that would involve the name Malone. It was now the middle of March and no meaningful discussion had yet come up.
Jana went into Elfrieda’s room, where she was staying, and removed her clothes, folding them and putting them in the chest she was using. She withdrew her nightgown, put it on, and climbed into bed.
But she was unable to clear her mind.
What did Drew really think of her? Was she only a convenient caretaker for his children? The worst of all thoughts came to her as she recalled the words Della Peterson had thrown out the night she came to the house.
I do not think you are raising your children in a moral home. When people begin to talk, it will be these two precious boys who will suffer.
Had Drew taken those words to heart? Did he think she was a “loose woman”? Is that why he had never approached her with the serious discussion he had hinted that he wanted to have?
Jana could take it no longer. She had to know what he thought of her, and there was only one way to find out. Quickly, she left her bed, going down the steps as quietly as she could. She didn’t want to awaken the boys and also didn’t want Drew to be forewarned that she was coming.
When she reached the door of his office, she put her hand on the knob, but for a moment, she couldn’t make herself turn it. What if the answer she got to her question was one she didn’t want to hear?
Then, summoning her nerve, she opened the door and stepped inside, seeing Drew sitting at his desk, his shirtsleeves rolled up, and papers strewn about. His hair was disheveled where he had been running his fingers through it, and the stubble of a beard was beginning to form.
As she stood there looking at him, her anger fell away. The truth was, she loved this man, and she had to know how he felt about her.
But she was afraid. What if he told her he didn’t want her? What would she do?
“What is it, Jana?”
She looked at him, and though she wanted desperately to run to him, she was quite unable to move.
“Jana?”
“Drew, I—” Jana could go no further.
Drew rose from his chair and started toward her. He held his arms out, and with a small cry, she rushed to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his, lifting her head and parting her lips.
For just a moment Drew tried to hold his body in check, telling himself that he could not compromise Jana while she was staying in his house, but feeling this soft, beautiful woman pressed against him, he was powerless to obey his own sense of propriety. When he felt her lips part under his, felt her tongue dart into his mouth, his blood ran hot and he knew there would be no turning back.
“Come,” he said quietly. It was more of a command than an invitation, and Jana obeyed it willingly, eagerly. He led her up the stairs to his room and shut the door behind her; then, after turning up the lamp, he pulled her to him in a body-molding embrace, and a tongue-tangling kiss.
Within a few minutes Jana was naked, but Drew wasn’t sure when it had happened or even how it had happened. He had not undressed her and he couldn’t remember seeing her take off her gown. But there she was, standing nude before him, with the lamp causing her skin to gleam softly. Without a word of explanation or apology for her nakedness, Jana started toward him.
She put her arms around Drew, then kissed him, again sending her tongue probing deep into his mouth. After the kiss he pulled his head away from her for a moment, then spoke softly.
“Jana, do you know what you’re doing? There can be no turning back—not now.”
“Drew, if I didn’t want this to happen, I wouldn’t have stepped into this room,” Jana murmured. She kissed him again, even more deeply than before. This time he reacted more actively. He began to stroke her back and massage her buttocks.
Within seconds his own clothes were on the floor, his eyes feasting on the beauty that was before him, from the beautiful and delicate features of her face, to the graceful neck, the thrust of her breasts, the flat stomach swelling to the flare of her hips, then down her shapely legs.
He ached with the need for her, a need that he realized, now, had been there from the first moment he saw her in the dining room of the Sheridan House.
Intuitively, in Jana’s innocence, she knew the power she had over this man, and for a fleeting moment it was a heady feeling, until she realized that he had the same power over her. She lifted her hand to his cheek, feeling the texture of his skin and the stubble of a day-old beard.
Drew turned his head toward her hand, kissing the palm, a seemingly benign kiss, yet one that sent thrills through her body. Bringing her other hand up, she framed his face.
Jana brought her hands down from his cheeks, to his shoulders, then to his chest. Her lips followed her hands, and Drew inhaled deeply, then pressed Jana’s naked body against his own. She could feel the heat of his body, and she lifted her mouth to his, to connect in a flood of passion. She felt his hand in the hollow of her back.
The bright hunger in Drew’s eyes told her, in no uncertain terms, that he was now single-minded. He would have her tonight, nothing would deny that.
“My beautiful one,” Drew murmured as she felt his hands go to the pins that held her hair. As he removed them, her soft, silky tresses fell forward across her shoulders, shielding her breasts so that only the nipples poked through.
Drew caressed Jana as though he were admiring a sculptor’s work in marble. He moved his hands over her body, tracing the curves, the concave of her stomach, the indentation of her belly button, then moved up to her breasts, brushing aside the covering tendrils before taking each of them in his hands, and letting his thumbs tweak the nipples, delighting in her reactions to his ministrations. He looked into her eyes with a deep and triumphant smile, lowered his lips to one of her nipples, sucking at it, as if tasting sweet nectar.
Jana gasped as she felt Drew’s mouth at her breast, both sucking at her nipple and flipping his tongue across it. Involuntarily, as if it were a conditioned reflex, she arched her back and thrust her breast farther into his mouth, groaning softly with the pleasure of it all.
Now Jana began her own exploration as her hand trailed down across his hard, muscled body until she discovered a steel-hard shaft, throbbing with a pulse of its own, and so hot to the touch that it seemed to be on fire. It became a sensual exploration, one that both instructed and thrilled her.
“No, Jana.”
She was both surprised and disappointed to feel Drew reach down to gently push her hand away.
“I can’t let you do that, or we’ll be done before we’ve started.” A muffled laugh escaped his lips. “I’ve not denied myself this moment only to be cheated out of the pleasure of knowing that we’ll be doing this together.”
“But, we are doing this together.”
“Not yet, my love. Not yet. But soon. Very soon now.”
She’d already anticipated joining with Drew with far more yearning than she’d ever imagined possible. His mere touch had brought her to readiness, and when she’d felt the liquid warmth spreading within her, she’d quite naturally thought he would bring their closeness to a culmination. But that culmination was not to be, at least not yet.
Drew swept her into his arms, then stepped over to the bed and laid her on it. Climbing in beside her, he again lowered his mouth to her breast, and as he suckled her nipple, it was almost as if she could feel the blood racing through her veins, tingling on its way to her
breast and Drew’s supplication.
Drew was caught up in his own overpowering sensations. His hands slid over Jana’s smooth, naked skin, down to her waist, then into that welcoming, bushy mound at the juncture of her legs. His lips followed his hands, and he kissed his way across her chest. His thumbs locked on her hip bones while his mouth followed her concave belly down to the juncture of her legs, to that same bushy mound that his hand and fingers had just discovered.
When Drew’s tongue followed his fingers into that hot, damp center of all her sensation, Jana gasped and arched her back up from the bed. She put her hands on the back of his head to what? Stop him? Urge him on?
She opened her mouth, intending to tell him to stop, that she couldn’t take any more, but all that came out was a feverish moan. She thrust her hips toward him, grabbing him with her hands, pulling him to her, not knowing what was going to happen next, but knowing that Drew was in complete control of her. Finally the building tension exploded within her, sending her into a shaking, shuddering climax that enveloped her in a whirlwind of passion.
Lifting his head, Drew smiled at her slowly, lazily, almost insolently. “Jana?”
Was it a question? If so, she couldn’t answer. All she could do now was take in deep, gasping breaths, like that of an animal that had been run to ground and was now helpless before its predator.
Drew lifted himself up, spread her knees apart, then moved between her legs. He braced himself with the palms of his hand to either side of her head and looked down at her. Jana realized then that Drew had not experienced anything compared to the pleasure he had given her, but she knew he was bound to do so now, and as he stretched his body out, full length over hers, she waited . . . and wondered.
Before entering her, Drew bent down to kiss her, not the deep, tongue-probing kisses of before, but soft, gentle kisses that somehow Jana knew were the calm before the storm.
“Drew?” Just saying his name was all the question that was needed.
“My sweet, beloved Jana. The best is yet to come.”
Drew let his weight down onto his forearms, then his engorged, hot, pulsating shaft probed at the entrance. He pushed harder, and she opened up to him, letting it come in—then, suddenly, and unexpectedly, she felt a sharp pain and she cried out, though it was more of a quiet moan than a cry.