Texas Gold (Mills & Boon Historical)

by Carolyn Davidson

  “Me? Thin?” She laughed mockingly, wondering at the incongruity of his query as it applied to her rapidly changing body. There was a definite thickening at her waistline, and her breasts were larger, more sensitive to the touch. And at that thought, she felt the flame of embarrassment touch her cheeks once more.

  “Here,” he said, moving toward her. “Let me take your cloak. You must be warm in it.”

  “No.” She clutched it closer. “I mean, I won’t be here that long. I just wanted to let you know I’m in the city and I thought we could—”

  “Faith.” He spoke her name again in that same firm, no-nonsense tone. “Stop chattering and give me that cloak.” His hands rested on her shoulders and then slipped to where the braided closures held it against her breasts. The backs of his fingers brushed against the fullness there as he slipped open the fastenings, and before she could halt his actions, he’d allowed the cloak to fall from her shoulders.

  “There, now,” he said, apparently satisfied to have his way, tossing the garment aside across another chair.

  She tried to laugh, but the sound was broken and he looked at her keenly, his gaze narrowing. “Are you about to cry?” And if she did, what would he do? she wondered. And then it seemed his question was irrelevant, for tears trickled down her cheeks, and she found out exactly what his response was.

  His hands slid behind her and she was enveloped in his arms, his mouth claiming hers in a single swooping gesture. He was warm, solid and strong, and seemed to have grown taller—which was foolishness, she thought. Max had quit growing almost twenty years ago. But her head fit nicely into the hollow near his collarbone and he tilted it at just the right angle, holding her in place for the leisurely exploration he began.

  His lips and teeth tasted her mouth, delved into the small spot beneath her ear he was wont to nuzzle in times past, and then made a path across her throat, his hand grasping her hair, levering her head back to give him access to the tender skin he sought. Pins fells from the coronet she’d fashioned early this morning, scattering on the lush carpet beneath their feet, and she felt his fingers work at the braid, untangling the three strands with a practiced touch.

  “Max—we’re in your office,” she said, breathless from the series of kisses that devoured her lips, barely allowing her to breathe, let alone voice a protest. And then she was beyond caring about all else but the heated dampness of Max’s mouth as it wove its magic on her flesh.

  He lowered her to a leather couch that stood against one wall, coming down over her, pressing his big body against hers as if he cared little for the layers of fabric separating them. His hips jerked once in a spasm she recognized, and she lifted hers to meet his thrust. His hands touched her breasts and she felt them as tentacles of fire against the tender, swollen flesh.

  She ached for his possession, yearned for his body to claim her, rose with him in silent search of the closeness they craved. His hand was on her leg, beneath her skirts, his fingers pressing her thigh, and she heard a moan escape her lips.

  A rap on the door and the voice of her brother-in-law brought her back to herself. As the knob turned, she heard Max utter an oath that stunned her. “Get out,” he said loudly. “Go away, Howard.”

  “Max? What’s going on? Jerome said a woman came up on the elevator and you dragged her into your office.” The door opened as the words were spoken, and with a great flurry of skirts as Faith sat up on the sofa, accompanied by a loud thud as Max hit the floor beside her feet.

  Howard entered the room. His eyes widened, his mouth snapped shut as he gave Faith a quick once-over, his dark eyes not missing a trick. “Well, it seems Jerome was right,” he said brightly. “You certainly are a woman. Hello there, Faith. Good to see you again.”

  “Howard.” It was all she could manage, what with brushing at her skirt and gathering her hair up in one hand.

  He leaned back against the door. “I’m glad you showed up, my dear,” Howard said, gleefully observing his brother’s disgruntled features. “I had a vision of Max carrying you on board the train over his shoulder. That was how you described your intentions, wasn’t it, brother of mine?”

  “Get the hell out of here, Howard. If you value your life, take your miserable self out that door and close it behind you.” Max was furious and Faith was hard put not to laugh aloud at his frustration.

  “All right,” Howard said obligingly. He waved his fingers at Faith. “See you later, sister dear.” And then he was gone, pulling the door shut behind him, only to open it again, sticking his head in long enough to offer a few words of advice to his older brother. “Try locking it the next time.”

  Max growled. There was no other word to describe the angry sound, and Faith thought of the dog she’d left behind in Texas. The sound was similar to Wolf’s warning when a stranger came by, and he was set on defending his territory from intruders.

  “This isn’t the time or the place for this,” Max snarled, crossing to the door and setting the lock in place. “But I don’t want to be interrupted again.”

  He turned and shot her a look of apology. “I was wrong to treat you so,” he said. “I lost my head.”

  “Yes, I noticed,” she said quietly, her fingers busy at forming a chignon with the mess he’d made of her hair. “Would you mind picking up my pins for me so I can put myself back together?”

  “Yes, of course,” he said, going down on one knee to pick up several of the heavy bone pins. He handed them to her and watched as she slid them into the arrangement she’d fashioned. If Howard hadn’t intruded…She couldn’t imagine what might have happened.

  Foolish woman. She knew exactly what would have happened, and probably for the first time in the history of this room.

  “Now, let’s do some talking,” Max said. He looked down at her, his eyes focusing on the swell of her breasts, outlined nicely as she lifted her hands to pin her hair in place. A strange, edgy look shuttered his eyes and he grasped her hand, tugging her to her feet. “Let me look at you,” he said roughly.

  “Whatever for?” she asked, inhaling as she attempted to hold her breath a bit, easing the strain on her waistband. She’d already taken out the seams of her dress, and again it was tight, fitting her like a glove.

  “Faith?” He stepped to her side, ran the flat of his palm down the slope of her breast and across her belly.

  She slapped it aside. “Max! Stop that. What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m looking at you,” he told her. And then he lifted his head and she was stunned by the appraising glint in his eyes. “Are you going to have a child? Are you pregnant, Faith?”

  She could only nod.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Why didn’t you write and tell me?” he asked. “All I heard from you was that you were fine.” He clenched his hands into fists, harnessing the tension that her admission had brought into play. And then he voiced his greatest fear.

  “What if you’d decided not to come back? Would you have waited until spring, or whenever the baby was born, to tell me about my impending fatherhood?” That Faith could have kept such an enormous secret from him was a bitter pill to swallow. He’d thought he’d made great strides in their relationship during those long weeks in Texas. But it seemed all for naught, for she apparently still dealt with the issue of her faith in him.

  Staking a claim seemed to be his only goal for now, he decided, and with a smooth movement he set about establishing a foothold in her immediate future. He lifted her cloak and wrapped it carefully around her, whether wary of having the eyes of others on her during their jaunt through the building, or because her sudden trembling lent itself to the need of warmth, he wasn’t certain. For now, it seemed imperative that he remove her from the office, gather her belongings from wherever she had them stashed, and then settle her in his home.

  His arm circled her waist and he examined her face, aware that tearstains had left their mark on her pale skin. “Do you want to wash first?” he asked. “Do you need to f
reshen up before we leave?”

  She shook her head. And then posed the query he’d anticipated next. “Where are you taking me, Max?” Her voice took on a firm note as she spoke aloud the vow she’d taken earlier. “I meant what I said about not living in your mother’s house.”

  “The deed to that house is in my name,” he reminded her. “But you’re right. Essentially it is her home, and I’m not about to displace her from the spot she’s familiar with.” He opened the door and they walked past the entry hall and into his secretary’s office.

  “I’ll be gone for the rest of the day,” he told Jerome. “And for your further information, this is my wife. I am available to her no matter where I am or what I’m involved in.”

  “Yes, sir,” the secretary said quickly, his eyes scanning Faith and his mouth offering a polite smile. “I’ll let Mr. Howard know that you’ve gone for the day, shall I?”

  Max’s mouth twitched. “I think he’s probably already figured that out for himself,” he said dryly. And then he ushered her down the hallway to where the elevator waited. In moments they were in front of the building and a passing carriage stopped at Max’s uplifted hand.

  “Don’t you use your own conveyance?” she asked as he helped her up the step and into the cushioned seat.

  “It’s easier to hire a cab,” he said, giving an address to the driver. And then he turned to her. “Where are your cases?”

  “At the railway station,” she told him. “I didn’t want to appear, bag and baggage, on your doorstep.”

  “Why not? It would have given me a better picture of your intentions.”

  “I didn’t have any solid intentions when I arrived,” she told him quietly. “I didn’t know what my reception would be.”

  “You knew I wanted you here, Faith. There shouldn’t have been any doubt in your mind as to your welcome.”

  She looked up at him, and he was lost in the blue of her eyes, his hands brushing back her hood to allow him access to the abundance of golden curls and waves she’d managed to tame. Her left hand lifted to touch his face, and her fingers traced the fine lines at the outer edges of his eyes.

  “You haven’t been sleeping well,” she said, her own eyes filling a fresh rush of tears. “Are you working too hard?”

  He shook his head, careful not to dislodge her fingertips. And then he took her other hand in his and pressed his lips to the center of her palm. “I’ve missed you terribly, Faith. My bed is wide and lonely without you. My heart has ached from the loss of your company with me.”

  Her tears fell unimpeded as he spoke and he caught a glimpse of anguish in the depths of her gaze. “I love you,” she said, the words trembling on her lips. “I wouldn’t have made you wait until springtime to hear about our child, Max. I just didn’t want to tell you in a letter. I felt it was news better delivered firsthand.”

  “Thank you,” he murmured, his gaze feasting on the rare beauty of the woman before him. “I love you, too, Faith. Never as much as I do now, although I was certain I knew what the word meant, all those long years ago when I allowed you to slip away from me.”

  She bent her head, resting her brow against his shirtfront, her sigh deep, as if she had indeed come home.

  The house was set off the road, surrounded by white board fences, and boasted a fresh coat of paint. White, trimmed with dark green shutters, it stood two stories high, with a porch that wrapped along the west side. Comfortable wicker furniture sat on the wide veranda and a swing hung at the far end.

  The cabbie turned up the drive and looked back over his shoulder. “This the place?” he asked jovially. “You visiting here?”

  “No,” Max said firmly. “This is home.” Possessive pride filled him as he surveyed the property he’d purchased with just this moment in mind.

  “It’s your house?” Faith asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

  “No,” he said gently. “It’s our home.”

  She shivered, as if anticipation held her in its grip, peering from the side of the carriage to where the gleaming fences enclosed a sea of grass, a horse grazing in its midst. “That’s your gelding, Max.”

  “He’s lonesome for company, sweetheart,” Max told her. “We’ll need to send for your mare, won’t we? I’ll bet he’ll spend the whole winter and spring wooing her.”

  “Well, that’s another thing,” she said. “I brought Goldie with me. I wired ahead and had her put in the livery stable where you used to keep your horse.”

  Max laughed aloud, relief making him giddy. “You really did intend to stay, didn’t you?” The fact that Faith had indeed arrived “bag and baggage,” with the most cherished possession she owned, was brought home to him in a rush.

  “I would have fought for you tooth and nail if necessary,” she told him bluntly. “I never intended to cry defeat. Whatever it took, I was willing to take a stand for a life here with you.”

  With a flourish, the carriage drew up before the front door, and Max lifted Faith from the step to the ground. The bill he slipped into the cabbie’s hand brought effusive thanks from the man, along with an offer to return whenever Max should need his services again.

  “If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like you to go to the train station and pick up Mrs. McDowell’s bags for me,” Max told the fellow. He held out his hand, and when Faith drew the claim tag from her reticule, he leaned forward to deliver the slip of paper to the cabbie.

  “Yes, sir,” the man said, eyeing the large bill Max offered him. “I’ll be back within the hour.” With a snap of his reins, he drove off, circling a raised flower bed in front of the house and returning toward town.

  Before they had climbed the first wide step toward the veranda, a woman swung the front door open and stood waiting, her dark dress and white apron marking her as the housekeeper.

  Max escorted Faith across the porch, smiling at the waiting servant as she stepped aside to allow them entrance. “Mrs. Belmont, this is my wife, Faith.”

  The housekeeper’s smile was welcoming as she took the measure of her new mistress, and Faith offered a slender hand in greeting. “Are you taking good care of my husband?” she asked, and then looked up at him. “I fear he didn’t know I was arriving today. I hope I haven’t caused any problems.”

  “Ma’am, the mister has had your room ready almost since the first day we moved into this house. Between him and my husband, they hauled furniture back and forth and hung those pretty curtains in no time.”

  “You put together a room for me? My room?” Her look was uncertain as she hesitated in the center of the wide entryway.

  “It’s a sitting room, sweetheart,” he said. “James and I did whatever Mrs. Belmont told us to. It opens off our bedroom,” Max said quickly, easing her mind. “I thought you might like a quiet spot to read or write letters or just relax.”

  “Our bedroom?” she asked, lifting her brow, as if she recalled the separate rooms they had had in the city house.

  “I discovered I like having you close at hand,” he murmured, bending to speak quietly in her ear.

  With his hand at her elbow, they followed the housekeeper up the open, curving staircase to the second floor and down the wide corridor toward the back of the house. The suite of rooms Max showed Faith extended across the southern end of the house, each one large and well furnished. He escorted her into the sitting area, a luxurious haven with white wicker furniture and plump cushions filling a window seat.

  “Oh, Max,” she whispered, halting in the doorway to take in the soft, welcoming scene before her. Wallpaper of palest yellow scattered with faint traceries of green leaves covered the walls, and the cove ceiling was white, with a decorative border depicting white flowers with yellow centers in delicate nosegays, a subdued array of wildflowers that delighted the eye.

  “It’s beautiful,” she said, turning to him. With a subtle gesture he dismissed Mrs. Belmont, and she left unobtrusively.

  “Come and see the bedroom,” he invited, holding out his hand. Faith took it, her
face eager as she crossed into the huge room he’d prepared with her in mind. It was masculine in design, due to the use of his furniture from the house in town, but he’d had the decorator add small bits of frippery that would please Faith. He closed and locked the door behind them, and watched as Faith inspected the room he’d prepared for their pleasure.

  A smaller chest of drawers against the wall was of the same dark wood as his own furnishings, but built on more delicate lines. A glass-topped dressing table sat between two windows, its skirt billowing in the cool breeze from the open panes. Dainty flowers that matched the border in her sitting room were embroidered on the fabric, and it resembled a bridal veil, layers of material offering a feminine touch.

  A bouquet of yellow roses sat at the bedside, and Faith buried her nose in the fragrant mass of blooms. “How did you know to have these here today?” she asked.

  “I’ve kept fresh flowers here on a regular basis,” he said quietly. “I always hoped one day you would walk through that door, and I wanted it to be ready for you.”

  She blinked and swallowed, biting at her lower lip, then averted her gaze, as though she were uneasy here in this bedroom where the wide bed seemed to beckon them. “We have so much to talk about,” she said. “Nicholas and Lin send their regards, and Brace wanted me to tell you—”

  “Later,” Max said, one hand lifting to silence the words that rolled from her lips. “That can all come later, Faith. Right now I need to see you.”

  “See me?” She looked puzzled, and he approached her slowly, lifting his hands to remove her cloak again, placing it across a chaise that stood near the dressing table. And then his hands were on her, unbuttoning her dress, sliding it from her shoulders and arms to fall to the floor. Silently, he removed her clothing, intent on touching the flawless skin beneath the layers of cotton and fine lawn.