"Yes, yes, yes,” she said as the preliminary pulses of feeling flowed through her already. She tried to stave them off.
Reese grimaced as their joining shook his entire body. He grasped her hips and controlled the pace of their movements. His wife's sexy lips parted in a self-confident smile as he took them into sweet, swirling madness. Uh-oh, he thought, aware of the significance of her smile.
As she moved and undulated, he found it damn hard to maintain his breathing. Helplessly, he moved with her, in her, faster and faster until the sharp waves of her orgasm took her and she tossed her head, crying out over and over.
With a jerk, he followed her to an aching, throbbing climax, giving a guttural shout.
She collapsed against him.
After the fulfilling waves ebbed, Reese stayed where he was a long time, catching his breath, loving the silky caress of her fingers on his chest.
Shifting her to lie beside him, Reese smoothed her hair until she fell asleep.
He smiled. He'd not encountered Ashley's full maternal instincts before today.
She loved their little girl and would protect her like a mama Grizzly bear.
Maybe he could teach her to love him with a similar fierceness. He'd give his life for a chance.
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Chapter Twenty Four
The next morning Ashley awoke alone. Noticing someone had fed the fire, she snuggled back down into the warm blanket. In spite of the warmth from the bed and the fire, she missed the heat of the male body that had shared the night with her. A soft smile curved her lips as she thought of those hours. It was the stuff of dreams, but real, so warm and real.
Where had he gone? Perhaps he'd had second thoughts and left her. That would be a very basic form of revenge.
The thought jerked her to action. She rose from the bed and began searching for her clothing. Just bending to get her blouse, she saw him appear in the doorway. Tall and dark. Fierce and proud.
"Morning,” she said, feeling sudden shyness. She hoped she had not communicated the fact with the trembling in the word and the flushed warmth she felt on her cheeks.
He stood silent and solemn, offering no words of greeting or encouragement, just a burning look that scorched her nerve endings.
What was he thinking? Darn him. That she had offered her body and soul last night and he must, this morning, contemplate the price. Was she worth it? Or not? Arrogant male.
With a resigned shrug, she continued gathering her undergarments and putting them on, venting her anger on the inanimate pieces of silky wedding underwear.
Leaning on the door jam, Reese watched her, finding he was in the depths of an emotional struggle. The same one he'd battled since the day this woman blasted into his life. He wanted to tell her of his love and demand that she promise to return the same, to give it back to him in full measure.
Reese realized he had no idea how to ask for her love as a gentleman would.
She turned her back and busied herself gathering her clothing. He'd stood here speechless for too long, trying to think of what to say, the right tone of voice to use. It puzzled and hurt him that she'd turned from him without a morning smile.
She snatched at her clothing with a systematic purpose he'd come to associate only with his Ashley.
A totally angry Ashley.
Hah. What the hell did she have to be angry about? He was the injured party in all this. She was the scheming female who'd hidden away his little girl for four long years.
"Let's get something to eat. We have work to do.” He winced as soon as the words left his mouth, knowing they were sharper than he meant them to be.
One of Ashley's delicate little white wedding shoes whizzed by his left ear, bounced off the far wall and thumped on down the staircase beyond him.
"Hellfire, woman."
Across the room, Ashley watched in rapt fascination as Reese's puzzled gaze jerked toward the departing shoe. Then his gray eyes turned to her as if led by the only conclusion possible. That the new Mrs. Reese Caldwell had thrown her wedding slipper at him.
"Did you throw that at me?"
Ashley studied him. At least he looked a little less self-assured and cocky now. Good. His expression conveyed that he couldn't believe the evidence before him.
Heavens, she couldn't believe it either. She was not a violent woman. How had she lost control this completely? So fast. Exceptional stress. That was it. She'd been through a lot of uncertainty the past few weeks. A evil attacker at work. Now an arrogant Texan. How much could a woman take...?
"Why, Ash?"
With a half-hearted shrug and a silly smile, she lied, “It slipped from my fingers.” She knew it was a weak and silly smile, but it was the best she could summon. “Oh, heck, Reese, I don't know why. Maybe the superior, sanctimonious look in your eyes just now."
"Ashley, I swear to God.... “Then he was too close and he tumbled back with her to the bed.
"Hey,” she said.
His long, jean-clad legs covered her, pinning hers, holding them parted for him. She gloried in the hardness of him pressing against her inner thighs. She had a moment to think that she would have to gather her clothing all over again.
But this time it was he who seemed driven. He trapped her hands to the bed, over her head, with one of his own.
She smiled in anticipation, unafraid.
"You want to share the joke, babe?” he asked.
"No. No, thank you,” she sassed.
"Ashley, I'm not in a very tolerant mood at the moment. There isn't a scrap of food in this house and if there was food there would be nothing to cook it in."
Ashley smiled again, a sure prod to his precarious mood, but she didn't care. He raised a brow in masculine warning.
"Well, Mr. Caldwell, my sweet hunk, this Spartan honeymoon-suite-special wasn't my idea. You'll just have to go out and chase down a rabbit or whatever wolves prey upon. We'll cook it in the fireplace over there.” She gestured with her head. She knew she added fuel to the flame.
"You deliberately torment me. And you're enjoying it, little witch.” Reese gasped when she traced kisses along the arm that held her, biting his wolf tat.
"Every moment of it.” He was right. Despite her trapped, supine position, Ashley felt her feminine power and she liked it a lot. Contrary to the situation, her male was the one at a disadvantage here and the sudden firing of his eyes told her she just might have gone too far.
"Ashley, honey,” he mimicked her too-sweet tone. “I swear you'll have to pay for those remarks."
Ashley gasped. “That so?” She rubbed against him.
He proceeded to strip her of the few scraps of clothing she had just put on, somehow maintaining the secure hold of her hands. The slight tremor in his free hand making him none too gentle.
When she lay naked beneath him, he stroked her femininity boldly, up and back. Then began to spread stinging little kisses over every inch of her sensitive skin. She arched upward helplessly.
"Reese...” she managed to whimper the word after an endless time of sweet torture.
"What?"
"Take your clothes off,” she demanded, her brow knitted together. She deliberately tried to smooth the frown away to conceal her desperate need. “Please."
Ashley thought he looked startled for a moment by the urgency of her demand. Good.
"No. Not yet. Not yet."
She frowned. “Just what do you mean by, not yet?"
He laughed harshly. Leisurely, he traveled as far down her body as his long arm would allow him to reach. The corded muscle of his forearm stretched hard and tight by her right breast.
"Oh, my goodness,” she whispered.
His fingers loosened a bit. Ashley took advantage of the moment to attempt escape and the bands of his fingers tightened about her wrists again. And he bit, so tenderly and softly, the sensitive flesh around her navel.
"Ashley screamed. She didn't think first. She just screamed, half in surprised pleasure and half in angry fr
ustration that he would not free her hands. “Hey!” She needed to use her hands. Had to. “Caldwell, let go of my hands.... This is ... so not ... fair."
"Not yet, wife. Not yet,” he repeated, engrossed in the task of soothing away the bite at her navel with his tongue.
The last ‘not yet’ seemed to Ashley more pleading than demanding.
She smiled. Her new husband might not have the steel control normally at his command.
Then thinking became impossible as the heat of his tongue over her already sensitized flesh swamped her. Man, his arms were long.
Her entire body came alive, pulsing with sensation. The scientist in her wondered if her vascular system could take the extra stress and strain.
"Reese, I'm warning you. I'll get even for this."
"I know you will, my sweet wife, I know you will,” he said, laughing low in his throat. “But for now, just relax and enjoy it, will you, love?"
"Yes, darn you,” she said. “I will."
If she could just get back the use of her hands. She lifted her breasts to try to tempt him to let go.
"Oh, God, woman,” he rasped.
She felt his hands loosen for a split second, but it was his mouth he used to close over the aroused, dark tip of her breast.
With a quivering sigh, defeated by the strategy, she moved her legs restlessly along the length of his legs, loving the feel of his hairy legs.
At last, he moved his hand from her wrists, downward with maddening strokes along the lengths of her arm, stopping to capture her face, holding her still for his kiss.
Ashley wasted no time once her hands were free.
"Oh, God, I...” he began, and then caught his breath.
"I, what?” she prompted, her voice unsteady and trembling. It seemed important he should be asked to continue the statement he'd started.
Crucial in fact. She guessed he fought hard to regain the control he always cultivated.
"Tell me, Reese. Talk to me."
"I,” he began again. After a long pause said, “I need you, my wife."
The words were begrudged as soon as they were said, she could see it in his silver wolf's eyes. The disappointment he had not said love instead of need washed over her. It could a lifetime to win softer words from this man.
"Need will do for now,” she admitted.
Then his mouth came back to hers with a masculine tenderness that felt as though it held more love than need. With raging longing as if a dam had broken, he loved her body. She had to rush to keep up with him this time.
* * * *
"I want to talk to Mandy,” Ashley demanded.
"Oh, hell,” Reese swore. He was on his back, recovering from the tortuous lovemaking they'd just shared. Damn, he'd lost his mind as well as his control this time. The whole flipping world had gone fuzzy for a minute there. He was too damn young to have a heart attack. He winced as he thought of the fury with which he had driven into her soft, supple body.
"I mean it,” she whispered.
"I know you do, love,” he answered, resigned that she still didn't trust him completely.
Beside him in the bed, Ashley sighed, apparently satisfied that he did know she needed to speak with their daughter. His angry words of revenge the night before had her worried, he realized, and he also felt shamed by his behavior.
He turned his head to study her expression. Surely she must know him too well to be frightened he would take away her child, didn't she? Hell no, she didn't. He sat up in a rush.
"I want to call her, but I don't have my cell phone,” she said.
"I forgot to bring mine. The house line isn't in yet. We need food anyway. Let's go up the road to Gabby's Country Store and Pizzeria."
"Good idea. We need supplies of all kinds. But a large discount store might be a better choice."
His heart sped. He stared at her a moment, realizing she had just tacitly agreed to stay with him here.
He was one lucky bastard and he knew it.
If she'd demanded to go back to her house, he would have complied.
"Come on then.” He pulled his exhausted self up and gathered their clothes, tossing to her the pieces that were hers.
Ashley watched Reese silently as they drove the short distance and found a pay telephone in Gabby's, in the back, guarded by a wooden Native American.
"This small general store caters to the local farmers and makes the best pizza and stromboli around."
"So I've heard,” Reese said.
Looking stony, he dialed a number and Ashley talked to Mandy.
She covered the receiver. “I can tell this call is long distance,” she hissed.
He nodded.
"Where are you, sweetheart?” she asked.
"Aunt Pelly says you're with my new daddy. Why aren't I with my new daddy, too? May I talk to him?"
"Yes, you may, honey, but first tell me where you are."
In the darkness of the store, Reese stared at her from under his black eyelashes, his arms folded at his chest, leaning against the wall. There was a touch of something else there in his eyes. Pain perhaps—because she didn't trust him to look after their daughter? Maybe.
"The Triple C. My Uncle Clay took us with him,” Mandy answered. “We flew here on a fancy plane with a bedroom in the back."
The wealthy neighbor, Frederick's, private jet no doubt.
"Grandmother and Granddaddy are here, too."
Ashley closed her eyes. “Texas."
"You okay, Mommy? I worry."
"Fine, I'm fine, sweetie. Don't be worried."
Ashley closed her eyes. “Texas."
She opened her eyes and searched Reece's face and her intuition told her he wanted her to trust him in this. How could she? After his angry words of revenge?
She sighed.
She did trust that he loved their child.
"Mandy wants to talk to you,” she said. She handed over the phone.
"Hey, Mand, you having fun? I know, missing your mommy. It won't be much longer."
After he said goodbye, Ashley said, “She's in Texas.” They walked on through the store.
Reese sighed. “Right. I thought it safest. Clay borrowed Frederick's private jet and flew them all back to Texas in a hurry."
"Fredericks will want something in return for borrowing the jet."
He grinned. “Yeah, that's what Clay said."
He took her elbow and led her through the store. “You need some jeans for the farm, Ash,” Reese said when they reached the clothing section in the back, next to the nails and other hardware.
When Ashley tried on a pair, she frowned. They were loose fitting farm jeans that made her look like a boy. A dumpy boy.
"These are ugly. Too big,” she said, flapping the excess material at her hips with her hands.
"They're work clothes. We have work to do. Rough farm work."
He'd slipped back into his controlled lord and master mode.
"Yes sir, Mr. Boss Man,” Ashley muttered.
Reese watched his wife as she turned slowly in front of the narrow plastic framed mirror nailed to the wall outside the tiny dressing room. The smallest pair of jeans the store had in stock were too large on her. They turned her rounded hips into a boxy square. The cuffs were turned up in a bulky roll. But the jeans were fine with him.
Damned fine. He'd get several pair for her. Maybe she'd wear them every day. The less he could see of her sexy shape the better for his self-control.
He'd read the look in her eyes this morning as that damned shoe just missed grazing the side of his head. She'd recognized her power over him at last. And it had nothing to do with physical strength or carefully misaimed flying shoes. But everything to do with feminine prowess.
He felt a powerful need to keep the fact that she could tie him up in knots hidden from her, at least on a temporary basis. He wanted time to regain complete control of their loving before her new sense of power mushroomed.
"We'll take them,” he said. She put her hands on h
er hips. He grinned at the mutinous expression she wore as she marched into the dressing room to retrieve her dress thingy. He was pushing too hard again. Flipping hell. Still, he walked away with two pair of the jeans.
Ashley yielded to her primal instincts and stuck her tongue out at her husband's retreating back as he placed the ugly jeans on the counter.
Fine then. Let him pay for the hideous things, she thought. Serves him right. When she joined him at the counter, she noticed he'd added a baseball cap to the stack of items on the counter. At her questioning glance, he placed the cap on his head, his sexy lips parted for a cocky grin.
"When in Rome...” he said. “Aren't these what grain farmers wear? You don't see many cowboy hats up here. Besides, I've always wanted one of these caps.” He put it on.
The curls of black hair that curved around and through the cap's adjustment strap in the back touched her heart.
"When in Rome,” she agreed.
* * * *
"Tell me about your childhood,” Ashley asked as they drove back to the house. She munched from a bag of popcorn she'd purchased at the little store. They'd filled the truck full of food, including a couple of pizzas. They also bought hardware and lumber for repairs. Reese had decreed they'd spend their unorthodox honeymoon working on the house. He said they should control the restoration process. It was strange, as though he had long-range plans for the house.
"What do you want to know about my childhood?"
"Everything."
After a long, thoughtful pause, “Simple. It was like a happy TV family."
She smiled. “I'm not surprised. You have a wonderful family."
His voice lowered, gravel-deep. “Things changed when I lost Natalie and Gabe,” he said flatly. “Until then, I led a charmed life."
Ashley's heart stopped. In a way, she liked it better when she'd felt righteous indignation at his autocratic decision they would not have children. She didn't like the feeling she might have truly wronged the man she loved. That his motivation was so agonizingly human, born of intolerable hurt and loss. She didn't know what to say. “I wish you'd told me back then."
"I really should have,” he agreed, his tone solemn.
After all the waiting for him to talk, she suddenly didn't want to know about his wife, yet. She didn't want to know about Mandy's sibling yet either. Cowardly of her, she knew.
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