Bending down, Gage snatched up another bottle of water, and then leveled his gaze onto his grandfather's. "Nothing I have done would bring my family shame. The arrangement Jenna and I have is our business. Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to bring my wife something cold to drink."
"Can't sleep?"
Gage's question had Jenna turning from where she'd been staring out the kitchen window at the moonlit meadow.
She shrugged. "I was tossing and turning. I finally just got up. You okay?"
When he opened the fridge, light spilled across the floor. "Just thirsty," he said, pulling out a jar of apple juice.
This sparse, artificially bright repartee set Kama's teeth on edge. It was how they'd addressed each other ever since the night of the dance over a week ago — ever since that instant of surrendered passion in the shadow of the towering hemlock.
That kiss had changed everything. Before that moment, they had slowly developed a real relationship, had become friends of a sort. Yes, that hum of attraction never failed to present itself when they were together, but they'd done a fairly good job of ignoring it. Gage had stopped hiding out in the stable and outbuildings, filling his time with work, and had actually seemed to enjoy spending his evenings with Jenna and Lily.
But since they'd spent those fiery moments in each other's arms, he'd once again retreated from her.
Who was she kidding? She'd done her share of retreating, as well. But she'd had plenty to occupy her time — spending her days with Lily, keeping up with her business clients and creating the new Lenape artist Web site by night.
She had to admit she was quite content to keep busy. Her schedule left little time for sleep. And that was okay. Sleep was something else she'd started to avoid. Well, not sleep, exactly. What she was desperate to escape were the dreams. Hauntingly seductive visions of Gage running his bronze hands over her milky body, kissing her with explosive passion, pleasuring her all through the night. She'd awaken each morning with a desolate feeling, a needy ache that refused to go away.
One of those night fantasies had jolted her from sleep over an hour ago. She hadn't been able to find a comfortable position after that. Thoughts of Gage had refused to be banished and had finally chased her out of bed. She'd been keeping vigil at the kitchen window ever since.
She watched him pour juice into a glass and lift it to his lips . . . the same lips she fantasized about in her dreams.
Moonlight glowed against his white T-shirt. When he leaned to set the empty glass on the counter, a thatch of his dark hair fell across his well-defined biceps.
The alluring current between them buzzed around her so loudly, it sounded like an agitated bumblebee. She wished it were an insect, something she could swat at and shoo away. But this was a temptation that refused to be expelled.
"Your meeting go okay today?" he asked.
Jenna nodded. She'd met with the Council and with a small group of artists who lived on Broken Bow. With Lily propped securely on her hip, Jenna had stood in front of the room and explained her ideas for the Web site, listed her requirements regarding images she could upload and announced the date she hoped to launch the site. They batted around ideas, talked about how to split the proceeds and what to do with the tribe's share. Jenna quickly learned that it was the Lenape way to always give a little something back to the People, so she offered to donate a portion of any money she made on her sister's and brother-in-law's artwork.
"They agreed with my idea of naming the site Foxfire. In David's memory. Everyone seemed excited," she told him. "Everyone except your grandfather." She sighed. "I've come to the conclusion that nothing I do will ever make him happy."
Gage reached up and hooked a hand behind his neck, the action tightening the corded muscles of his forearm. Jenna had to concentrate in order to keep her gaze on his face.
That ever-present energy they conducted raised the hairs on her arms, made her skin feel all prickly and too aware.
"He's a hard man to please."
Gage pressed one lean hip against the edge of the countertop and crossed his arms over his chest. Again, Jenna had to work hard to keep eye contact with him when all she really wanted to do was let her gaze drift down the full length of his body.
"You've been working late into the night all week," he commented.
There was true concern in his voice, real interest. Something she hadn't heard for days. It took her off guard.
"I've heard the tap of your keyboard. Seen your light on. Often until long after midnight."
All she could do was nod in response. She wanted to ask what he was doing up so late, but didn't.
The buzzing tension amplified. Gage's intense stare clearly told her he was cognizant of it.
"Jenna, we need to talk."
He didn't need to tell her what he wanted to discuss. She knew without a doubt what the topic would be.
"I agree," she said.
His jaw muscles tensed, then relaxed. He licked his lips. He uncrossed his arms. "This . . . thing —" he lifted his hands, his lingers curling as if he were attempting to grasp some unseen object "— between us. It's very powerful."
Jenna felt an immense pressure on her chest and wondered if it was nerves, or curiosity, or anticipation. Her voice was very small as she murmured, "I certainly can't argue with that."
He swallowed and remained silent a moment or two, his bottom lip captured between his teeth. She got the sense that he was choosing his words, measuring them, trying to decide exactly what to say.
"I felt this . . . thing," he continued, "from the very first." He paused long enough to take a deep breath. "The attraction, I mean. I feared it, in fact. But then I decided I could disregard it. I would disregard it. I could act as if it wasn't there." He rubbed his fingers over his jaw. "But it . . . the stirrings . . . they're often . . . stronger than me. Stronger than my resolve." His black gaze latched on to hers. Earnest and earthy. "Like . . . right now."
Jenna's knees went weak as she nodded her complete understanding. Something twittered in the pit of her belly. "I know what you're saying." The words grated against her dry throat. "I fought it, too," she told him. "I thought I didn't need any more complications than I already had. And I knew you weren't interested in . . . that you didn't want —" Unable to complete the thought, she lowered her gaze. "But . . . sometimes . . . the feelings I have are . . . overwhelming."
A taut silence settled over them.
Finally, Gage said, "I understand and empathize with your not wanting to add to your problems. You've got so much that you're dealing with right now."
She lifted her head to see some bleak emotion flash across his countenance. Pain? Anxiety? She couldn't say.
"I loved my wife, Jenna," he said, his tone jagged, as if the words themselves had been cut with a dull serrated knife.
Her heart wrenched close to the breaking point for him. That short profession revealed so much. He felt guilty for wanting her. He thought the attraction he felt for her somehow lessened the love he'd shared with his wife.
Jenna went to him, reached up and pressed a tender palm to his cheek. "You can't think like that, Gage. What you and Mary Lynn had was special. It will always be special. Nothing you can ever do, or feel, or say will ever change that. Nothing." She paused, wanting to let him know how emphatic she was about what she felt was the honest truth.
"But at the same time ..." She stopped, suddenly inundated with a myriad of emotion. "At the same time, you have to remember that you're human. It's completely natural for you to have needs. Physical wants and desires."
The swirling current grew more fluid. Like some warm, smooth, thick liquid, it eddied all around them. On a breathy whisper, she added, "Just like everyone else."
Then she took a moment, inhaling shakily as she garnered the courage to verbalize her thought wholly and more clearly. "Just like me."
She let her fingers trail slowly down his neck, then she flattened her palm against his chest, never breaking eye contact with
him. She had figured out very early on that Gage harbored a wounded heart. Well, she had the chance to help him heal. Right here. Right now.
The look she offered him was an obvious, even brazen, summons. A call that needed no words to be understood. When she raised on tiptoe to kiss his mouth, she had no clue how he would react, or what he would think of her. Would he think her shameless? Wanton?
If he did, that would be all right. Because right at this moment that was exactly how she felt.
Lifting his hand, he trailed his fingers up her arm, his skin barely touching hers, and she got the impression that he was toying with the idea of submitting to the temptation purring and pleading for attention.
"Let go of control," she told him. "Tonight, I want to be your soft place to fall."
She reached down and slipped her hand beneath the hem of his T-shirt, the need to touch him becoming more than she could bear.
He was a good man. An honorable man. A man who fulfilled his word. He'd sworn to repay his debt by helping her, and never once had he faltered in that promise. For that, she would be eternally grateful.
For that, she wanted to show her thanks.
His belly was warm under her fingertips, his abdominal muscles rock-hard. He sucked in a short breath, and for an instant, she feared she'd upset him, crossed over some obscure boundary he'd drawn. But the potent emotion she read in his onyx eyes had her mouth curling languidly, sexily. Her brash behavior surprised him, and she liked the idea that she could shock him. Liked it very much.
Slowly, she gathered the soft cotton of his shirt in her hands, tugging it up and over his head before Idling ii fall to the floor.
Her gaze raked down the length of his lean, hard torso, taking in his nipples, dusky brown coins against his bronze skin, his firm pecs, his defined abs. His belly button riveted her eyes. The tiny fold of skin mesmerized her. It was more erotic than it had any right to be.
Her heart pattered in her chest and she had trouble breathing. She felt the urge to gulp in huge amounts of air. She felt another urge, as well. The urge to taste.
She bent and placed a kiss by his belly button. Parting her lips, she dragged the tip of her tongue against his flesh. His skin was velvety smooth and hot. He inhaled a long ragged breath and triumph rushed through her whole body. He cupped the back of her head with his hand, lightly massaged her scalp.
His pajama bottoms rode low on his narrow hips. She was struck with the impulse to slide her fingers beneath the elastic band, to tug and pull, to see him completely naked. But there was plenty of time. She wanted to go slow. She wanted to savor every touch. Every kiss.
She wanted her first time to be special.
With nimble fingers, he caressed her chin, and gently guided her upward until they were once again standing face-to-face.
"Are you sure about this?"
His question vibrated with such thoughtfulness that Jenna feared she might tear up. Never had she met a man so considerate.
She opened her mouth, but found that she was so affected by the moment — by him — that she was unable to speak. Wanting him to know she was completely clearheaded about what was about to happen, she forced herself to say, "I've never been more sure of anything, Gage."
She leaned against him then, lifting her chin, and his mouth crushed against hers. His kiss was ardent and unrestrained, and Jenna felt as if something wild in both of them had suddenly been set free.
He nipped at her lips, plunged his tongue deeply into the soft recesses of her mouth to taste and explore, and she opened herself to his plundering, her pulse thudding erratically. She was vaguely aware of the sweet tang of apple juice on his lips as she arched her spine, pressed her full, aching breasts against his chest.
Gage kissed her mouth, her cheek, her jaw, smoothed his hands over her back, kneaded her buttocks, pulling her to him where she felt the hard steel of his desire pressing against her belly.
His throaty groan left her breathless, panting, and she felt as if they were running, rushing toward some amazing precipice. She wanted to slow down, to relish every second of the journey, but something inside — some yearning, some insistent and unrelenting need — pushed her ever onward.
Even as they continued to kiss and nuzzle each other, Gage picked her up in his arms and carried her out of the kitchen. She was vaguely aware of passing through the dining room, the living room and the hallway.
She knew they had entered his bedroom from the clean, masculine scent that belonged only to Gage.
While she was still in his arms, she gave into a temptation that had niggled at her for a long time; she combed her fingers through the length of his hair, reveling in its silky texture and discovering that its coolness was so at odds with the sear of his lips against her flesh.
Gage set her down. Obviously impatient now, he pulled her nightgown up her body and over her head, flinging it to some far corner of the room. His dark gaze burned with craving and Jenna loved the idea that she was the one who had induced that glorious expression on his taut features.
Taking her hand, he led her to the bed. He threw back the coverlet and top sheet, and the mattress depressed with their weight as they laid down, side by side.
He kissed and tasted and touched until she was gasping for air, gasping for him. She reached up and smoothed her palm over his shoulder, kissed the curve of his corded neck, gently raked her fingernails over his bare back. She tweaked his earlobe between her teeth and grazed the sensitive skin behind his ear with her wet tongue.
He tensed and shivered, drawing his shoulder upward. Then he chuckled suddenly.
Delight rushed through her. "You're ticklish."
He grinned. "Just a little." He rolled over on top of her then. The sleek curtain of his hair fell across her breasts, the featherlight touch tightening her nipples into nubs. She looked into his eyes, saw that he was staring at her breasts, saw that he wanted to taste her. She arched her back, lifting herself closer to him.
"Please," she whispered, unbothered by her own plaintive mew.
Tentatively, he lowered his head. His mouth was hot and wet as he laved first one breast, then the other. Jenna felt a distinct pulsing at her very center, a moist throbbing sensation that increased with each kiss, each touch, each taste. She closed her eyes, feeling wonderful, feeling delirious.
Desire coursed through her body, through her being. She wanted this man. Wanted him more than she had ever wanted anything in her entire life. She wanted all of him. And she wanted it now.
She spoke his name then, and knew that the tremor in her tone conveyed every ounce of the yearning she endured.
He lifted his head and stared into her face, every muscle in his body poised, ready, and Jenna had no doubt that he would satiate her every aching need.
Never for an instant had she lost sight of the significance of this moment. She was about to give herself to a man for the very first time. Instinct told her Gage hadn't been with a woman in many months. Having gotten to know him over the past weeks, she knew he wasn't a man who gave of himself casually. So although their union was an unconventional one at best, their relationship had come to involve a great deal of kindness and caring and trust. The emotions that brought them to this moment were powerful and poignant. And the fact that she was losing her virginity to the man she called her husband filled her with joy.
Hovering over her, he whispered her name, the question in his dark eyes offering her one last chance to put a stop to their lovemaking. But all she could think to do was smile in provocative invitation.
This was what she wanted. Gage was the man she wanted.
And she wanted him now!
Finally, the passion raging through them became overwhelming, and his luscious mouth covered hers at the same instant as he slid himself into her.
Chapter Nine
Jenna awoke with a deep sigh of contentment. She stretched out under the tangle of sheets, loving the feel of the soft, rumpled cotton against her naked skin.
Sunl
ight streamed through the window, and she smiled. It was going to be a beautiful day.
Rolling over, she experienced a slight pang of disappointment to find that Gage wasn't in the bed next to her. But she thought it was sweet of him to slip away to his work without disturbing her. Although, she wouldn't have minded being disturbed . . . not if it meant more delicious love-making. She grinned. No, she wouldn't have minded that at all!
She relaxed into the pillow, letting her mind drift back. When Gage had first entered her, she'd been seized with a pain that had been sharp enough to widen her eyes. Gage had gone completely still, the passion on his face transforming to surprise as he'd realized that he was her first lover.
For a fraction of a second, she'd feared that the moment was ruined. But she'd reached up, caressed his cheek with her palm and crooned that this was what she wanted. She wanted to surrender her virginity to him. Desire had fogged his black eyes and his lovemaking turned excruciatingly gentle until he had her frantic with need. Her first orgasm had been awesome, as was her second. Jenna grinned wickedly even now in the light of day.
She sat up and listened. The house was quiet, which meant Lily was still asleep. Jenna bounded from bed and raced to her room. She pulled on a fresh pair of panties, a pair of denim shorts and a pink T-shirt. Then she slipped her feet into a pair of canvas sneakers.
In a flash, she'd made a small pot of coffee and was soon carrying two mugs out to the stable.
She found Gage busily brushing one of the horses.
The animal snorted when she entered the stable, and Gage murmured soothingly in its ear. The scent of fresh hay permeated the air.
"Good morning," she called from just inside the door. "Is it okay to come in?"
Gage nodded, but didn't stop attending to the pinto. Jenna couldn't help but notice how Gage's biceps bunched as he ran the bristly brush over the horse's spotted flank.
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