Priscilla continued to hold onto his arm as she looked around, brows gathered in a worried frown, and said, "We are out of view of the others."
Adam smiled. "That was precisely my intent."
She looked at him with alarm. "Why?"
He patted her hand. "Because I'd like to spend time alone with you and not have curious eyes on us. It appears you have gotten the notice of Cheyenne's first ladies—the mayor's wife and the wife of our territorial governor—as well as the wives of two of the men who will be running against me in the upcoming election for mayor. If we were to sit in plain view of them, they'd all be watching us closely, and the women would be only too eager to cast doubt on my character, and yours, by tongue wagging."
"Not unless we gave their tongues something to wag about," Priscilla said. "I don't believe that was your intention when you bid on my basket here today, was it?" Her face flushed, and she looked up at him in anticipation.
"But that is the problem," Adam said. He reached out and touched her face. "I have an almost irresistible urge to kiss you soundly, because that thought is also on your mind at the moment. Am I right?"
Priscilla's flush deepened, and her eyelids fluttered like hummingbird's wings. "No, you are not right," she said. But her voice wavered with uncertainty, and the tip of her tongue came out to trace her lips, leaving them moist and inviting.
"Then I'll hold that thought until I am right," Adam said. He unrolled the blanket and fluttered it across the ground and set the picnic basket on top of it. "I should have brought along folding chairs," he said, "but that escaped me. There's a nice covering of grass beneath the blanket though, so you should not be too uncomfortable."
Priscilla looked down at the blanket, a perplexed frown on her brow, and Adam realized she was trying to figure out how she was going to sit down gracefully in the close-fitting dress. Amused, he waited and watched to see how she'd solve the dilemma.
For a few moments she stood staring at the blanket, then she closed her parasol, braced the tip of it on the ground, gave a little wiggle, and like a snake recoiling into the snake charmer's basket, lowered herself to the blanket onto one hip and tucked her small booted feet beneath her. Her nicely rounded bottom clad in varying shades of green silk captured his attention, and when she raised her head, it was not his eyes that she focused on, and he knew at once she'd noticed his problem. But how could she not, with the bulge in his britches at eye level to her, and not more than a couple of feet away. She looked up quickly, meeting his gaze, and her face was crimson.
He chucked her under the chin. "Food always takes a man's mind off other things," he said, lowering himself to the blanket, "and I saw some very tempting morsels in your basket."
But not as tempting as the two morsels pressing against her bodice with the rise and fall of her chest. And at the moment, his craving for those two full, round morsels dwarfed his craving for food. His mere mention of kissing her made her breath quicken. He could only imagine how she'd react while laying naked on his bed as he introduced her to the finer art of making love. He'd take as much time as necessary to familiarize her with her body's response to a man's caresses. And by the time he acquainted her with the part of him that was primed and ready, she'd be welcoming him with a passion he was certain she did not know existed.
Priscilla lifted the lid from the basket. "Not knowing who would be bidding on my basket, I tried to include a wide assortment of foods," she said. "If I had known you intended to bid, I would have tried to accommodate your wishes. As it is, you'll have to be satisfied with ordinary fare, as that was all I could find in Cheyenne. It will be some time before the second floor of my building will be converted into living quarters, which makes it inconvenient for preparing any but the most basic meals. But the women will be moving into the boarding house next week, so I'll only have myself to worry about." She reached into the basket and began setting covered bowls on the blanket.
"Maybe I could offer you a solution," Adam said, eyeing a platter of pigeon pies.
Priscilla looked at him, curious. "I can't imagine what you might offer, short of sending around a cook with meals, three times a day." She lifted the platter, and he took a pie.
"What I have to offer is—" he pinched off a piece of pigeon pie and slipped it between her parted lips. To his surprise, her mouth closed snugly around his finger, which he slowly withdrew, heightening the effect below his waist.
"As you were saying, Adam?" she said, when the silence stretched.
Adam dusted a crumb from her lips. "I'm offering you a bedroom suite in my house on 17th Street, and I'd pay you to live there. My mother recently arrived from England, and because I spend much of my time at the ranch, she'd enjoy the company." True, but not the reason he wanted Priscilla there. He broke off another piece of pie, and as he brought it to her mouth, her lips parted like a baby bird. "Because my mother's aging," he continued, "she occupies the suite on the ground floor. You'd have your own suite on the second floor. It's a comfortable suite with a writing room and a well-appointed bathroom equipped with a large bathtub. You'd have free run of the house, and my cook and staff would provide meals for you and my mother."
Priscilla looked at him skeptically. "Then what you're asking is for me to be a companion to your mother. Are you trying to undermine my plans for my paper?"
"No," Adam assured her. "My mother does not need a companion, but she would enjoy your company, I'm certain. It's my children who I'm concerned about. I want to move them from the ranch into the house, but I don't expect my mother to monitor them, so I thought you could do that in the evening, especially my eldest daughter, Trudy. She's sixteen and fancies herself in love with one of my ranch hands, and I want to sever that tie. Moving her into the house would take care of that problem. You wouldn't be expected to do anything but be there in the evening. The children have their own rooms, and their tutor, Mr. Avery, would live above the carriage house and be there during the day to see to the children's schooling. You might even give Trudy some advice on staying chaste until marriage. She's a headstrong girl with a passionate nature. Not a good combination."
"I've spent little time around children," Priscilla said. "I don't see how I could advise your daughter, especially about staying chaste. I don't mean to imply that I've been unchaste, but it has not been difficult for me to remain virtuous, because there have been no temptations. But your daughter lives in a different world from the one in which I was raised. I'm sure she's a pretty young woman, who attracts handsome young men, something I never had to contend with."
Adam studied Priscilla's wistful face. Odd that men didn't gravitate toward her. But he was about to change that. "Well, Miss Priscilla Phipps," he said, "you'll be contending with me now." He reached out and stroked her cheek. "I hope you won't take offense when I tell you that I miss your appealing little freckles, and your tangled red hair, and your long golden lashes, because that's who you are, and that was what attracted me to you. And I am going to kiss you now." He leaned over, took her by the arms and pressed his lips to hers. For a few moments she didn't respond, but when he opened his eyes and saw her looking at him, he broke the kiss momentarily, and said, "Priscilla, close your eyes."
She did, and the next moment her arms were around his neck, her lips parted, and she made no attempt to stop him when his tongue slid into her mouth to taste and tease. Before long, her tongue began to shyly explore his, gradually becoming bolder, until she was matching the rhythm of his thrusts with an eagerness that took him by surprise. Somehow she'd moved onto his lap, and her arms tightened around him, and her mouth became more demanding, and before he could catch himself, she'd hurled herself against him, tumbling him backwards and landing on top of him, until the full length of her was stretched over the full length of him.
Her eager kiss and warm womanly body sprawled atop him clouded his senses. He cupped his hands over her nicely-rounded bottom and pushed her intimately to him, and she pressed her breasts against his chest and deepened the
kiss. Her passionate response was almost his undoing. Only the sound of voices in the distance brought him back to his senses. Breaking the kiss, he raised himself to sit up, taking her with him.
Once upright, her eyes popped open in surprise. "Oh, my word!" she exclaimed. Untangling her arms from around him, she shifted off his lap and rested on one hip again, tucking her booted feet demurely beneath her. "That has never happened to me before," she said, fanning her face with her hand. "I don't know what came over me."
"I assure you, you were not the only one affected by that kiss." Adam glanced around to see if anyone had been watching. Relieved, he said, "We'd better reel ourselves in or your virtue is sure to be questioned." When he turned back, her fingers were pressed against her lips. "Are you alright?" he asked. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
She shook her head. But her eyes held a new light, one he recognized as passion. "No, I'm find," she said, her voice catching with her labored breaths. "Just a little winded. I don't know why this has been happening of late. It's like my lungs collapse and have to be refilled. It must be the high plains air. It wasn't dry like this in Missouri."
Adam looked around again, and when he was certain no one was watching, he leaned toward and kissed the side of her neck and beneath her ear, and said softly, "It's not the high plains air, sweet lady, it's the fact that you have a very passionate nature that has been bottled up." He pecked at her bottom lip, which was protruding with puzzlement, and added, "And I am honored to be the one to uncork the bottle."
She patted her chest. "I would never have imagined I had a passionate nature," she said, "but clearly you uncorked something." When she looked at him, he thought he'd never seen eyes so alive with the joy of discovery. And there was so much more he wanted her to discover about herself. As long as he was the one to lead the expedition.
Oddly, the thought of being the first man in her life was more arousing than anything he'd experienced. Just about any attractive female could arouse any normal male to some extent. But what happened when he was around Priscilla went far beyond an awareness of an uncomfortably hardened male member and the need to alleviate the discomfort. It moved upward from there to squeeze his chest, and twist around his heart, and addle his brain, and make him want to wrap himself around Priscilla and bond with her, body and soul, until neither of them could breathe...
"You have such a strange look in your eyes," Priscilla said, shattering an image of passionate lovemaking. "What are you thinking about?"
Adam curved a hand behind her neck and drew her towards him. "I was wondering if I was the first to kiss you? I'd like to think I was." He closed his lips around her earlobe.
Priscilla let out a little moan of pleasure when he began sucking and said, between labored breaths, "Well, actually no. You were not the first. Umm... I like that," she added, when he traced the inner chambers of her ear with the tip of his tongue.
Adam couldn't help the disappointment that gripped him, ludicrous as it was, that Priscilla had been kissed before. He also knew they were being foolish, dallying where others could see them, should anyone venture from the gathering and walk around the side of the church. He stopped his sensual assail and put a little space between them, and said, "Then tell me about this man who came before me."
Priscilla straightened her back and braced her hand against the blanket. Devilment in her eyes, she said, "His name was Kenny, and he kissed me under the cake table at my seventh birthday party, and I kissed him back. My father saw it happen, and after the party was over, he took a willow stick to me, which I suppose was good. I never let a boy kiss me after that. And when I got older, none ever tried again."
"Well, this boy intends to try again. You can count on that."
When Adam reached for her, Priscilla shoved a dish into his hand, and said, "I think it's time to turn our attention to the food." She put two pastry sandwiches on the plate and added cucumber slices, tomato wedges and a spoonful of bean salad. "I apologize for my impious behavior, especially here on the church grounds. It's obvious I should not be the one to advise your daughter about chastity, as it seems my own virtue is in question."
"Your virtue is not in question," Adam said. "You're a woman still innocent of a woman's need. Men are not the only ones to seek fulfillment. A woman's need can be strong too. For now, however, let's eat what you've brought, and you can tell me about your newspaper. Since I can't convince you to find work more suitable for a woman, I'd like to hear what you have planned."
Priscilla's face brightened. While preparing a plate for herself, she said, in an animated voice, "The Town Tattler will be a singlesheet newspaper at first, which will be printed on Readyprint so I won't have to worry about ads or printing on the reverse side. But as soon as I have enough advertisers to fill half the back side, I'll dispense with the Readyprint ads and fill the rest of the page with copy. The paper will cover topics that appeal to women: society news, recipes, advice to the lovelorn, a continuing romantic story, and a gossip column and bulletin where women can air personal grievances. I'll solicit women writers for essays and editorials, and if they submit a piece suitable for publication, I'll include it. I won't be able to pay them, but they should find satisfaction in seeing their work in print. And they will not be forced to take a man's name in order to be recognized. They'll be allowed to publish under their own names."
As she expanded on her ideas, Adam saw the fervor in Priscilla's eyes. He'd seen that look in a woman's eyes before, and there was no stopping them. But he was not looking to marry Priscilla, only to install her in his house to monitor his children.
When she'd finished her spiel about her paper, she nibbled the crust of a fruit tart, chewed thoughtfully, and said, "I plan to pull the first edition at the beginning of next week and post it at the town hall for everyone to see. In the meantime, my ladies are learning to set type." She clasped her hands together, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, and said in an animated voice, "I can hardly believe that The Town Tattler is about to become a reality."
Adam fought the urge to funnel all that passion into another kiss. From now on, he'd kiss her only in private, where she would be free to unleash her passionate nature.
After they finished eating, Adam reclined on the blanket with his legs stretched out and his upper body propped against his elbow and studied Priscilla's face. She had nibbled away the reddening on her lips while eating, the golden tips of her eyelashes were peeking through the sooty dust that had been there, and her freckles were beginning to emerge through the powder on her face. And he liked what he saw. In fact, he wanted to scrub off all that stuff and see the fresh, pretty woman she was. He hadn't realized it until now, but she was pretty, with a straight nose, firm chin, and luminous eyes as changeable as the clouds. And when she talked, her lips were a marvel to observe, tipping up in amusement at one moment, flattening with consternation the next. And there were those moments like now, when they parted and she ran her tongue over them, leaving a trail of moisture... when he could barely suppress the desire to kiss her again...
"Adam?" she said, anxious eyes, pure green with the reflection from her dress and the greenery around them. "What happened to your wife?"
Adam stiffened. The last person he wanted to talk about was Rachael. Just the thought of her left a bitter taste in his mouth. "She left me shortly after we arrived in Cheyenne. She's in New York pursuing a stage career. She's not part of our lives."
"Was she pretty?" Priscilla asked.
"She was a beautiful and cunning bitch."
"Oh." After a few moments of thoughtful silence, Priscilla said, "Do you still want to move me into your house?"
The way she was looking at him, eyes wide with expectation, lips parted in anticipation, Adam wanted to move her into his bed. A patently stupid idea. "Yes," he replied. "It would give me peace of mind, knowing Trudy was away from that young buck, Tom Rafferty. I have a housekeeper to handle the staff, so your only duty would be to keep a watchful eye on my children. I'd stay there a
few nights a week at first to make sure things were running smoothly."
"I think I'd like that." Priscilla stared at him, a frown gathering on her brow as if reconsidering, and said, "But if I need to work late to get the paper out, could the children come with me, maybe help around the place? I could even pay them some."
Adam had not considered that. But it would keep Trudy occupied. All Alice needed was a place to curl up so she could read her books, and Weldon could be Priscilla's printer's devil. "An excellent idea," he said, "But I'll take care of paying them as part of our arrangement. When would you be ready to move in?"
"In about a week," Priscilla replied. "That's when the women will be moving into the boarding house." She smiled her beautiful smile, and a small dimple that Adam had not noticed before emerged in one cheek. "I only have a couple of trunks and a few valises, which my pressman can load onto my buckboard and unload when we get to your house."
"Your pressman," Adam said, contemplatively. "Where is he staying?"
"Jim fixed up the storage shed behind my building," Priscilla replied. "It's freshly painted, curtains on the windows, a stove for heating and cooking. He's comfortable, and very adaptable."
As Adam looked at Priscilla's animated face and sparkling eyes, a feeling of uneasiness crept over him. Moving her into his house could have serious ramifications. He'd be installing her there for the purpose of monitoring the children, especially Trudy, while impressing on them the importance of maintaining good virtue. But whenever he was around Priscilla, he had trouble controlling his own actions. The desire to touch her and kiss her and caress her was becoming a problem. And from Priscilla's reaction to his kiss, she had little, if any, self control at all. He was undecided whether her enthusiastic response to his kiss was because she was a virgin still untouched, who became overwhelmed by a man's embrace, or because he brought out the basic, unrestrained animal instincts of the passionate woman she was. All he knew was, during those times when he'd be staying overnight at his house on 17th Street, he'd have to maintain a respectable distance from Miss Priscilla Phipps, or he could not predict his own actions. Or hers.
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