“Let’s go home.” He banged on the coach to let the driver know it was time to get underway.
Though the house she’d grown up in was nothing more than ash, Jessie couldn’t have agreed more. She was going home, too.
She was going back to Luke.
Chapter Nineteen
“I do apologize for the misunderstanding.” Elizabeth handed Jessie a cup of tea.
They’d been back for almost an hour, and Jessie had washed the grime of the slums from her body. Elizabeth had lent her a black skirt elegant in the cut of the fabric and the simplicity of the lines, and a white silk blouse. All the items were tailored and well made, the clothes of a wealthy woman. They fit well, as if they’d been made for her.
Jessie accepted the tea Elizabeth offered and sat down heavily in a scarlet and gold brocade chair. “Any word from Luke?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Sorry. If I’d known he would run out of here the moment I turned my back, I would have made sure he stayed put.” She frowned into her cup. “I never should have told him where you were.”
Carefully placing her cup on a small, mahogany table etched in gold leaf, she stood, unable to keep from fidgeting. She paced the floor. “Not your fault. Luke makes his own decisions.”
Elizabeth’s expression was sympathetic over the lip of her delicate teacup. “I’m sure he’ll come home soon. Why don’t you have a seat? No need to be nervous.”
Her footfalls loud against Elizabeth’s gleaming parquet floor, Jessie continued to pace. “I’m not nervous.”
“Sure you are.” Elizabeth gave Jessie a lopsided smile and patted the space on settee next to her. “You’re the girl, aren’t you?”
Her words drove into Jessie like bullets. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Elizabeth gave her a suggestive smile. “Yes you do. You’re his girl. The one back home.”
Jessie sat down in the chair across from her, her back ramrod straight. “I guess that depends on where home is for him these days.” She twisted her hands in her lap until her knuckles ached.
Amusement lit Elizabeth’s brown eyes. “Mr. Bradshaw not much of a talker, but when I first met him, he was the only man on the team Mordecai trusted to be with me, because Mr. Bradshaw doesn’t have a wandering eye like the others.” She laughed. “Or a wandering anything else. Though once he told me he had a girl back home, and no one else mattered after that.”
Jessie didn’t dare hope.
Elizabeth stared out the picture window at the view of the mountains. “He’s like a brother to me. They all are, in their own ways, but Bradshaw is special. I’d hate for him to get hurt. He’s been hurt enough.”
Jessie thought of the wild, homeless boy she had once loved, and the scarred man who had stolen her heart.
Elizabeth was silent for a while. “I have to say, we were pretty shocked when he told us he’d gone and gotten himself a wife.”
She hadn’t really had time to think about it before, when Elizabeth had mentioned this in the street. But now it dawned on her that, despite his suggestion no one had to know they were married, Luke had told his people about her. About the two of them.
He’d claimed her as his wife.
Then she sobered and shook her head, just once. “He didn’t exactly want to get married. My grandfather insisted on it.”
“The shaman?”
“Yeah.”
“Mr. Bradshaw never mentioned a wedding by force to me, but I honestly don’t think of him as someone who’d do anything he didn’t want to do.”
Unable to abide staying still, Jessie stood to pace some more. She stared out the picture window at the snow-covered peaks rising up in the distance. “He didn’t know we were getting married until it was done.”
It was true enough. Didn’t mean she didn’t want the husband she’d married.
Jessie turned, and Elizabeth’s expression was doubtful.
At that moment, the front door crashed open and a voice roared, “Where is she?”
Luke.
He stormed into the sitting room. The instant he saw Jessie, he skidded to a halt, his eyes blazing.
For a moment, she stood frozen and stared at the concern and the joy and the heartbreak in his expression.
In the space of mere seconds, she thanked every one of her ancestors and her father’s God he had survived, a prayer of thanksgiving to whatever deity would listen. She thanked them for Luke’s life and hers, and for the gift of this moment.
“Jessie.” His voice was jagged.
“Luke.”
He wrapped her in his arms, surrounding her with his warmth and his scent, and she held him tight. When she lifted her head, his expression shifted, and his dark brows knit.
“Oh, Jessie. I’m sorry.” His lips brushed against her eyelids, and only then did she realize he had kissed away her tears.
Jessie stroked the back of his neck and toyed with the hair peeking out from underneath his hat. “Where have you been?” Her voice broke.
“I was being debriefed, and I couldn’t leave before today.” He glanced in the direction of Elizabeth only fleetingly. “It was only a few days, Jess. Why didn’t you stay put? I told you I had people. You didn’t have to run.”
Jessie’s heart shuddered at the emotion in his voice. “They told me you didn’t want me.”
“After everything we’ve been through, you have to know that’s not true.” His voice shook.
“I know,” she whispered. “But I lost you once before. I couldn’t do it again. I had to find you.”
Luke cupped her head in his hands. He kissed her mouth, her nose, and laid gentle kisses upon her eyelids. Brushing his lips against her forehead, he inhaled deeply. “If anything had happened to you, I—”
Jessie leaned back and put her fingers against his lips. “Don’t. You’re here now, and that’s all that matters.”
“Not to me.” He kissed her fingertips and rested his forehead against hers. The heat of his body surrounded her as he pulled her closer still, tucking her head under his chin. His pulse thundered in her ears. “I’ve missed you Jess.”
She looked up. “I missed you, too.”
He brushed her still-damp hair back from her forehead and pressed his lips against hers. His kiss turned her upside down and inside out as she tasted the moist heat of him, like mint and sage. His fingers tangled in her hair as he kissed her.
The way he touched her stirred her blood more than anything ever had. It rushed hot in her veins, her flesh on fire. She shivered from the force pounding beneath her skin, a thing so heady she could scarcely breathe around it.
He pulled her head back so he could kiss her more fully, his tongue teasing hers. Breaking the kiss, he scooped her up in his arms as if she weighed next to nothing.
“Put me down. You’ll hurt yourself.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
His footfalls echoed as he carried her down the hall. If other people watched them, Jessie didn’t notice. If Elizabeth quietly slipped out of the sitting room, Jessie didn’t see that, either.
She had eyes for no one but Luke.
He kicked a door open, walked in, and kicked it shut. Setting her on her feet, he took off his hat and his jacket. He removed his holster and the knife strapped to his thigh and draped them over the back of a sturdy, armless chair. His hand gripped the back of the chair until his knuckles turned white.
“I don’t want to be your friend, Jess.”
Grief and fear formed a knot in her throat. “What?”
“I’m not looking for a friend.” He undid his black braces and set them on the chair with his other clothes. “You want a friend, turn right around and take up with Lizzie, because that’s not what I want.”
Hands on her hips, she struggled against the emotion threatening to choke her. “Then what do you want?”
He took off his white shirt, exposing the wide expanse of pale skin and sleek muscle. His newest scar ran puckered and red across the landscape of his
chest, and Jessie fought the urge to trace it with the tip of her finger. He took her by shoulders, his expression severe.
“I want my wife.”
Jessie’s pulse went off like fireworks, her mouth as parched as desert sand, and heat rose to her cheeks. She stared at his chest, unable to bring her eyes to his face. “All right.”
Luke inhaled sharply, and his grip on her arms tightened. “I want this to be clear. I can’t pretend to be your friend. If you stay with me, you stay as my wife. If you can’t handle that, I promise I’ll make sure you’re safe. But I can’t stay with you.”
His features were tight, his silvery eyes stormy. “It won’t be an easy life I’ll give you,” he said gruffly. “I’m a hard man, and I don’t lead a gentle life. But I promise you, everything I have and everything I am… it’s yours.”
No one had ever looked at her the way he did. No one ever would.
Tears started flowing and she didn’t bother to stop them. “What sensible girl could turn down an offer like that?”
Her pulse pounded in her ears. She pressed her hand to his chest, and she realized his was doing the same.
He hesitated. “Is that a yes?
Bright, painful joy sang through her, and she laughed and cried all at the same time. “Yes. Of course it’s a yes.”
Luke claimed her mouth with his, the need in his kiss plain. His hands shook as he caressed her face and toyed with the buttons of her blouse.
He moved the fabric away to expose her collarbone. He pressed a kiss there, and her blood simmered to a boil.
Before she knew it, she stood in front of him dressed only in her corset and plain undergarments.
His fingers deftly undid her corset, and she shivered as his hands ran down her arms and stroked her neck.
She ran her hands over his chest, touching him with desperate hands, and she forgot to breathe.
She discovered breathing didn’t matter.
Desire pulsed through her veins like the wail of air raid sirens, as the heart she once thought she’d lost became something she couldn’t control, and didn’t want to.
Once she was dressed only in her chemise and drawers, he sat on the bed. “Take it off. I want to look at you.”
Jessie swallowed against the dryness of her throat. Slowly, she unfastened the buttons of her chemise, and allowed the garment to fall to her hips.
Luke’s nostrils flared. “The rest of it.”
What was left of her clothing hit the floor.
Luke sat stone still for a moment, unmoving. He took his time appraising her, running his eyes over her form, as if memorizing every detail of her body.
In the space of those heartbeats, Jessie was so overwhelmed, tears stung her eyes. She wanted to cover herself. She didn’t.
Tearing his eyes away from her body, he met her gaze. “You’re so beautiful, Jess.” He went down to his knees in front of her, pressing soft kisses against her belly, running his tongue along her hipbones.
Muscles she’d forgotten even existed clenched and somersaulted. Lust rushed through her and dampened her thighs.
He ran his lips over the plain of her belly, and the moment his kisses reached the juncture of her thighs, her legs, already unsteady, buckled completely.
She pitched forward onto her knees.
“Jessie.”
She trembled, her hands shaking so violently she had to fist them to keep them steady. Luke kissed her mouth, and she lost herself in a kiss that stole all coherent thought from her mind.
When he broke away, she traced his kiss-slicked lips with trembling fingers. “Luke.”
“Say my name like that any time.” He kissed her gently and rose to his feet. He pulled her into his arms and ran his fingers down her spine. Tremors eddied out from the places he touched.
Her heart galloped like wild horses. Her pulse fired, her blood a conflagration burning out of control, and she didn’t care. She lost herself in his kisses, and she didn’t care about that, either.
Because she had him.
Luke.
She sank into a cloud of the finest cotton and down when he placed her on the decadent featherbed. Stretching over her, bearing his weight on his forearms, he spread her thighs with his body.
She felt the length of him, nestled in the vee of her thighs, and she shivered again.
He kissed her neck, running his tongue over her collarbone. His hands caressed her breasts, tracing her nipples with his thumbs, teasing them. He took one of the tender peaks into his mouth and suckled.
Jessie gasped at the intensity of the moment, of the desire and the love she experienced in his arms. Her fingernails scored his bare back, pulling him closer until they were skin to skin.
He kissed her, and she thought she’d die.
He rolled to his side. His fingers traipsed down the length of her body, lingering over the swell of her breasts and the hollows of her stomach. And then they dipped lower, teasing her thighs apart, toying with the coarse hair at the apex. He slipped a long finger inside her, and it was all she could do to keep from crying out.
Her legs spread and she lifted her hips to accept more of him, and another finger joined the first.
He kissed her greedily, his tongue tangling with hers as his fingers pumped inside of her.
She had waited so long with this moment.
“Luke,” she begged.
“Tell me.” His breath was hot against the sensitive skin of her neck.
Jessie arched up against his hand, her body achy and needy.
Beneath her palms, his muscles bunched as she ran her hands down his back. She moved her hands to his trousers and undid the buttons, and ran her fingers along the length of his erection.
“Give me my wedding night.”
Groaning into her neck, he removed his hands from between her legs. He bent to kiss her and suddenly he was inside her, filling her up, stretching her to her limits.
Her other half. The fire that melted her ice. Her opposite and her likeness. They were everything, Luke and Jessie.
Her heart swelled and expanded, as if it could encompass the entire world. She was as delicate as butterfly wings and as hard as steel.
When he kissed her, she was perfect. He touched her and she was eternal. He breathed and Jessie lived.
He made love to her, and the peace she had with him was greater than any peace her ancestors had ever offered.
Luke pushed inside her slowly and withdrew, his touch achingly tender. He kissed her mouth, her neck, sucked gently on her earlobe, his lips warm against her flesh.
In his arms, she was whole.
Her blood heated and suddenly her body was convulsing around him, trembling and wild, as pleasure so intense it bordered on pain coursed through her.
He bucked into her and Jessie heard someone cry out.
It took a moment for Jessie to realize the voice belonged to her.
He lowered his body and kissed her gently. He moved inside her, long, slow strokes, and pressure built and exploded as another wave hit her.
Leaning up, she nipped at his collarbone and he shuddered. Tenderness washed over her, and she pulled him down to kiss him.
“I love you.”
Luke flinched as if she’d struck him, and his silver eyes searched hers.
“What?” he whispered harshly.
Jessie arched up against him and pulled him deep. Tangling her fingers into his wavy, dark hair, she kissed him again.
“I love you.”
He moved in her once more, groaned and shuddered.
They lay in the tangle of bed sheets and one another’s arms for a long time, and she listened as his heart stabilized with hers. She breathed him in, the scent of desert rain on the salt flats and leather she always associated with him. She didn’t know where he ended and she began.
It didn’t matter.
He slipped to his side and cradled her against him, catching one of her legs between his, his metal leg surprisingly warm against her skin. His fin
gers twined with hers as he pulled her close, his chest against her back.
She brought his hands to her mouth and pressed gentle kisses against his knuckles.
As he brushed his lips against the nape of her neck, she shuddered again.
“Jessie?” he whispered.
She turned her head to look at him, but she stilled when he kissed the back of her neck. “Yeah?”
“I love you, too.”
Chapter Twenty
The next morning, Jessie woke alone.
She found Luke sitting at a table with Jameson, Elizabeth, Whitfield, Snakeskin Boots, and a man she didn’t recognize all hunched over the table.
Elizabeth waved her over.
Scattered around the table were grainy pictures of a valley surrounded by mountains, with what might be a river snaking through the lowlands, but the center of the picture was too blurred for her to be certain. Next to the photographs lay a topographical map of Deseret, Shoshone country, and the southern Idaho and southwestern Montana territories. Beside it, Jessie recognized her father’s map.
Elizabeth patted the chair next to her. “Join us. Did you sleep well, dear?”
Snakeskin Boots buried his laugh in a cough, and Luke hit him on the shoulder.
Jessie decided to ignore them and focused on Whitfield and Elizabeth. Though Elizabeth’s hair was lighter, the familiar resemblance was impossible to miss
“You’re related.” Jessie motioned to Whitfield.
Whitfield laughed at Snakeskin Boots. “Took you a good week to figure that out. Maybe we should replace you on the team, Solo.”
“Knock it off, Your Lordship,” Snakeskin Boots retorted.
“No need to be sour.” Elizabeth grinned. She turned to Jessie and motioned to Snakeskin boots. “This is Solomon Parker. You’ve met.”
Parker nodded a greeting.
Elizabeth gestured to the man standing beside Parker. “And this is my brother, Jonah Whitfield, Baron Berkshire.”
Jessie turned surprised eyes to Whitfield. “A baron? Like a real one? No wonder your accent sounded so odd.”
“Quit telling everyone I’m a peer of the realm—I’m trying to fit in here, Lizzie. I’m still working on the accent.” He frowned at his sister. “I’d like to get it right. Maybe you could help me?” he asked Jessie.
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