by Debra Cowan
“Are you—do you—” Damn. “Do you need some clothes? You can wear one of my shirts.”
“That’s okay. I didn’t…take off anything else.”
“You’re not cold?”
“No.”
He tucked the quilt tighter around her, refusing to let his mind picture what she looked like beneath the covering. Her small black boots peeked out and he caught a flash of a white stocking.
“Thank you for not telling anyone.”
“You’re welcome.” He pressed her head to his shoulder. “Tomorrow, Jake will take the guy to Abilene. I don’t want that sonova—him anywhere near you.”
She nodded, exhaling a ragged breath.
“Feeling a little more steady now?”
“Yes.”
“I’ll get some water and a cloth.”
“No,” she said quickly. “Not yet.”
“All right.” He slid out her hairpins and placed them on the table. Running his fingers through her hair, he got out what dirt and tangles he could. “What happened, Josie?”
“I went for a walk,” she said quietly. “Until I reached the saloon, I didn’t realize how far I’d gone. When I started back to the hotel, I heard a noise behind me. Like someone was in pain.”
“And you tried to help?”
“Yes.”
Davis Lee had seen it before—a man pretending to be sick or injured to trick a woman into getting close to him, then hurting her. “That’s when he attacked you?”
“Yes.”
“I’m glad you had your scalpel.”
“Me, too.”
He gathered her hair in his hand and smoothed the silky length to the middle of her back. “Why were you walking so late?”
“I…couldn’t sleep.”
“Something was troubling you?”
She nodded against his shoulder.
“Wanna tell me?” If he hadn’t been holding her, he wouldn’t have known that her body tightened almost imperceptibly. Why wouldn’t she want him to know what bothered her? Surely she hadn’t been meeting someone. Or trying to sneak into the jail again.
“Don’t you know by now that you can trust me?” he asked softly.
“It isn’t that,” she whispered, so low he had to strain to catch the words. “I just…went for a walk.”
His gut told him she had started to say something else, but he let it go for now. Finally the thunder of his heartbeat slowed. She breathed easier, too. “Let me get that water now. You’ll feel better once we get some of the dirt off of you.”
“Okay.” She stood stiffly beside the chair as he got a basin from the shelf over his sink then pumped the bowl full of water. He added a warmed brick piece from the fireplace. After dropping a cloth into the basin, he set it on the table then turned to the small cupboard behind and took out a bottle of Old Farm whiskey and a glass.
Filling it with a moderate amount of liquor, he stepped over to her and pressed it into her hand. “Drink this. It’ll help steady you.”
She sipped slowly, grimacing distastefully at the first swallow.
He laid his palm between her shoulder blades and rubbed her back until she finished the drink. Pulling the rocking chair over from the corner, he settled it in front of his seat and motioned for her to sit.
He did the same, picking up the basin of water. “I’ll hold the washbowl for you.”
She finally relaxed her stranglehold on the blanket and it gaped slightly at her neck. Reaching toward him, she took the cloth and squeezed out the excess water. Her hands were visibly shaking and she clasped them tightly together, her gaze fixed on them as if she could order them to stop trembling.
After a long minute, when she still hadn’t moved, Davis Lee set the basin on the cold stove and lifted her onto his lap, fitting her against his left shoulder so he could use his right hand. He gently pried the cloth from her.
“I feel silly,” she said, looking down.
“There’s nothing silly about letting me help you. Especially tonight.”
She nodded, her eyes locking on his.
“I’ll try not to hurt you.” He dabbed at her cheek, already slightly discolored, then ran the cloth lightly over the delicate lines of her face, careful of the bruise on her jaw.
“I’m so glad you found me,” she said close to his ear.
As he moved the rag down her neck, the blanket parted enough to reveal one lace-edged strap of her undergarment. He nudged the blanket aside just enough to reach below her collarbone, and froze.
A vicious scratch angled from just beneath the hollow in her throat to the swell of her left breast.
He went rigid with the effort to hold back the brutal, black tide sweeping through him. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt here?”
She glanced down. “I didn’t know.”
“Are there any other marks on you?”
“I don’t think so.”
A long minute passed before he had himself under control. He carefully cleaned the flat plane of her chest, unable to keep his jaw from tightening as he neared the bloody mark on her tender flesh.
The thought that she’d been hurt was bad enough, but that she could’ve been hurt even worse rocked him. Hating that he hadn’t been there to prevent the attack, feeling he should give her something, he bent his head and put his mouth gently on the scrape.
She made a little sound of surprise. Her warm breath fluttered against the back of his neck. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if he—”
“Shhh.” He looked up, his mouth barely an inch from hers. “You’re all right.”
Tears filled her eyes, spilled down her cheeks.
“Oh, honey, don’t cry. I’ve got you now.”
“I—I know,” she sobbed, covering her eyes. “I can’t help it.”
The shudder that went through her body kindled every protective instinct he’d ever had, made him want to promise her that nothing like this would ever happen again. But he couldn’t promise something like that. All he could do was be here for her now.
He took her hand from her eyes. Unable to help himself, he kissed the tears from one cheek, then the other, registering the slight taste of salt. He thumbed away more tears. The absolute trust on her face released something inside him. “Seeing you in that alley scared the hell out of me.”
Her eyes, deep green and wet, met his. He still held the damp cloth to her chest, and beneath his hand he could feel her pulse pounding wildly, could feel the slope where her breast began to curve.
She leaned into him and touched her lips to his; some barrier inside him crumbled. Hungrily, tenderly, he fed on her mouth, reining back the reckless impulses shooting through him. At first their lips were barely open, her breath mingling with his. She looped one arm around his neck and made an urgent sound in the back of her throat.
Mindful of her bruised jaw, as carefully as if she were spun glass, he moved his hand to cup the back of her head and angled her to him for a better fit. Her mouth parted, inviting him in. He went, the slow mating of their tongues helping to reassure him that she was all right.
She shrugged her shoulder free of the blanket and brought her other arm around his neck. Short nails grazed his nape as her fingers delved into his hair. His arm wrapped around her small waist, his reach far enough that his fingers brushed the underside of her breast. She turned fully into his chest.
She was warm and soft, the flavor of woman and aged whiskey. Compelled to taste the rest of her, Davis Lee’s lips moved to her neck, up to the tender patch behind her ear, down to the sensitive curve where her shoulder began.
She kissed his nape, her small hands tugging his shirt from his trousers and sliding the fabric up so she could splay her hands flat against his bare back.
The powder-soft texture of her skin, her faint honeysuckle scent swirled around him, making his arousal rock hard.
Her breasts burned into him. He shifted her so he could reach all of her. His lips glided down her elegant neck. Her head went back, baring her throa
t to him, dissolving every last ounce of his common sense. He laved the dip in the center of her collarbone, touched his tongue to the tiny mole there, then once more opened his mouth over her torn flesh. He pressed his lips to the swell of her breast, repeating the butterfly kiss on the other.
He couldn’t stop kissing her there. She made a little sound in the back of her throat, his name spilling brokenly from her lips. “Please, Davis Lee.”
Compelled by the rush in his blood and feelings he could no longer escape, he opened the first three buttons at the top of her one-piece undergarment. He slipped his hand inside to the smooth warm flesh beneath, curving his fingers around her small, plump breast.
He felt her pulse hitch when he brushed his thumb across her nipple. It budded in response as she brought his mouth back to hers. She kissed him long and deep with an edge of wildness. Emotion rushed through him. He wanted to devour her, shelter her, claim her. He opened another button then another, pushing aside the thin fabric and dragging his lips from hers so he could look at her.
Her nipples were rosy and tight, touched with gold firelight. The sight of his rough-skinned hand on her pale, perfect flesh had his chest tightening. Transfixed, he brushed his thumb along the curve of her breast.
“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said just before his mouth closed over her.
Her hand slid up the bare flesh of his back and she held him to her, her entire body quivering. The ragged moan spilling from her throat went straight to his heart then lower.
He arched her slightly over his arm so he could taste more of her. His big palm splayed on her stomach, the tip of his little finger touching the seam at the apex of her thighs.
His tongue curled around her. She held him close, her breathy cry driving a spike of pure burning need through him.
He moved his mouth to the sensitive skin of her throat, scraped her gently with his teeth, then covered her lips with his. The kiss was hot and deep, desperately intense. She turned full into him so that her breasts flattened against his chest, trapping his hand between them. One slender arm went around his neck; the other was moving under his shirt, stroking his waist, his back. Every inch of her torso touched his.
His hand slipped down over the soft give of her stomach, the finespun lawn of her undergarment to the heat between her legs. She lifted into his touch.
He unerringly found the opening in her drawers and eased two fingers inside, stroking the heated satin of her inner thigh.
“Please, Davis Lee.” Her hips rose as her arms tightened around him. “Love me.”
He brought his hand up to touch her face, drinking in the sight of her. Her face was flushed, her eyes a dreamy green. The top of her undergarment was spread wide, revealing her breasts pushed high against his chest, moist and glistening from his mouth. Blood pounded in his ears, his groin.
She pressed kisses to his palm, raised up to do the same to the corner of his mouth, his jaw, his ear. “Davis Lee, take me to bed.”
Even in his right mind, he couldn’t have resisted her. He buried his face in her neck, the thick cloud of her hair, filling himself up with her scent, her warmth, her softness.
“Make me forget,” she whispered brokenly. “Make me forget.”
The words reached through the haze of desire, cleared enough of his mind to know something was wrong. He realized then how far they’d gone, what she was doing. What he was doing.
Several seconds passed as he dragged in a steadying breath and tried to restrain the ruthless need swirling inside him. He withdrew his hand, settled it at her waist. “Josie.”
“Mmm?” She was kissing the side of his neck, the hot tickle of her breath in his ear straining the edges of a control he’d barely regained.
He was breathing hard, shaking, and realized she was, too. “Look at me.”
Finally she did, her lashes half-raised, desire smoldering in her eyes. Her dark hair was tousled, her lips wet and red from his.
The sight, the feel of her naked flesh threatened to pull him under. “We can’t do this, honey,” he said hoarsely.
“What?” Her eyes reflected the struggle to comprehend, and he saw the moment when she finally understood. She sat up. “Davis Lee—”
“Listen.” He cupped her face in both his hands, grazing his thumbs lightly along her cheekbones. “I want to love you, Josie, but when we come together, I want it to be something good. A memory that isn’t tainted by what happened earlier.”
“But I need you.”
The ache in her voice tore at him. He pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Not like this. I don’t want us to be together as a result of your being upset. Our loving should be only between the two of us, without the bad memory of another man and what he did to you.”
She trembled. “But you can make those horrid things he did go away.”
“Is that all you want between us? A way to forget?”
“No,” she said on a ragged breath.
“I’m not turning you away, honey.” His hands delved into the hair on either side of her head. “Tonight just isn’t the right time.”
In the play of firelight, he could see color flush her cheeks. Her gaze skittered away and she shifted, looking ill at ease. “I’m…sorry. I wasn’t trying to tease.”
“I know that.”
“I thought you wanted me the way I wanted you.”
“I did. I do. Till I can’t see straight, but I don’t want to take you this way.” He gently nudged her chin up with his knuckle. “Tell me you understand what I’m saying, honey. Why I’m saying it.”
She shuddered, her gaze going to his lips then back to his eyes. “You’re right. I know you are.”
Relief sliced sharply through him.
“Do you want me to go?” Her hand fisted nervously in the fabric of his shirt.
Slightly taken aback, he asked, “Do you want to?”
“No. I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
“All right then.” He hugged her close, trying not to think about how easy it would be to blank his mind and peel off her clothes. How damn sweet it would be to slide into her body. But he didn’t want their first time together to be shadowed by what had happened tonight.
He tugged the blanket over her and grinned. “All my good intentions won’t be worth a damn if I don’t cover you up.”
“And you’ll really stay with me?”
“Yes.”
“All night?”
“Whatever you want.”
A sweet, sad smile curved her lips. “Like this?”
He looked into her eyes, knew that holding her after his body was already primed would be agony, but he couldn’t deny her. “Yes, if you want. Except…”
“What?” She looked stricken.
He rubbed her back. “Won’t you let me put you to bed?”
She paused for a heartbeat then a tiny spark lit her eyes. “That’s what I’ve been trying to get you to do.”
With those words, a tightly wound tension inside him released. She was going to be all right. “I’ll sit with you. I won’t go anywhere.”
“Can’t you lie beside me? Just hold me?”
Could he? All he had to do was think about what she’d been through tonight. She didn’t need sex. She did need him. “Yeah, I can do that.”
“Thank you.” She kissed his cheek then nestled her head in the crook of his neck.
He stood and carried her into his bedroom, his knees weak as realization flooded him. Secrets or not, smart or not, he was falling for this woman. Hard.
Emotions he couldn’t begin to sort out tangled inside him. He’d told himself not to let things go further between them until he knew more about her, but it was too late. And he wasn’t sure he gave a damn.
Chapter Fourteen
“I’m all right.” The next morning Josie watched Davis Lee prowl around her hotel room for the second time in five minutes. “Now that you’ve checked everything, I don’t mind being alone.”
“
You know you don’t have to.” He turned, wearing the same somber, determined look he’d worn all morning. “I can stay until church lets out, then I can get Catherine or Cora or anyone you want.”
His blue eyes were dark with concern. She wanted badly to reassure him, but so far she hadn’t been able to. She walked over and laid the bundle of his clothes she’d brought on the low dresser that held a washbasin. “I’m bruised, but I’m not afraid.”
“Are you sure?” He braced his hands on his hips, his gaze sweeping the small space again. “I don’t mind staying outside in the hall for a bit.”
“I appreciate it, Davis Lee, but you’ve already done so much.”
His jaw tightened at that and Josie wondered why. He’d been tense ever since she’d woken this morning in his arms. Part of it was concern for her, she knew. But there was something about his manner that she couldn’t decipher. “I’m fine. Honest. You locked up that man and he can’t hurt me again.”
A shadow passed across his face as he studied her. Earlier this morning, he had told her that if they waited until church started, nearly everyone would attend and he could get her back to the hotel without anyone seeing her or knowing she’d spent the night at his house. And he had. “Thank you for sneaking me back over here. If anybody asks why we missed church, I’ll say I had to tend to some business.”
He nodded. “I’ll say I didn’t feel like going, which I didn’t.”
She wished he would hold her again, but in the daylight, here in her room, she felt too forward to ask. And something about the leashed restraint in his rangy body held her back.
He had loaned her a needle and thread and she’d tacked down the rip on the front of her dress so the bodice once more covered her underclothing. A couple of whip stitches reattached her skirt to its top.
He had shaken out her shawl as best he could, but it needed a good washing. He’d done everything for her, including hold her all night long against the safe wall of his chest. At first she’d been too wound up to close her eyes. Her breasts, her whole body still tingled from his touch, his kisses.
But she had soon gone to sleep. Waking up this morning with him, both of them fully clothed and in their stocking feet, felt more right than anything in her life ever had.