by Conn, Phoebe
Gabrielle curled up gracefully, propping her elbow upon the feather pillows as she waited for her husband to join her. Her pretty mouth curved invitingly, her delight in him as obvious as a spoken compliment would have been. He hesitated a moment, knowing the advantage was his, but he dared not tease her when he longed to arouse the fire of her passions rather than the fury of her anger. He moved across the high bed and pulled her into his arms, dismissing all thought of
games, his desire insistent. There was a smudge of dirt upon her left cheek and he brushed it away with his fingertips before covering her face with a flurry of hungry kisses.
Gabrielle was in no mood for playful affection either. She wrapped her arms tightly around her husband's neck, holding him captive in her embrace as she moved slowly to lure him toward a far more exotic type of pleasure. She was thrilled to be his bride, to be sharing his home, and her joy was as infectious as her intoxicating kiss. She saw no reason to be coy or flirtatious when sincerity brought such delight to them both. She knew he enjoyed being with her even though he seldom admitted any fondness for her, and feeling shivers of anticipation course down his spine, she was pleased to know she was the cause. The muscular bands which crisscrossed his back flexed with dynamic rhythm as he tightened his embrace, but his touch, as always, remained gentle. His fingertips strayed lightly over the soft swells of her lovely figure, tracing the creamy smoothness of her skin with an adoring caress, and she ceased to let her mind interfere with the rapturous warmth which flooded her senses. She basked in Jason's delicious affection, and knew she'd never tire of being his bride.
Jason found his wife in so obliging a mood he hoped it would continue until dawn. Her light touch, her soft sighs of surrender, her graceful pose as she wound herself around him, all her charming ways inspired him to seek more novel ways to express the love which filled his heart. His mouth lingered at her breast, the full curves of her slender figure delighting him anew, but soon he wanted much more. While his lips strayed lower still, his fingertips moved slowly up the inside of her thigh until he could feel her skin tingle. Her whole being welcomed his caresses with a joy she made no effort to hide. Thinking her the loveliest of creatures, he moved swiftly to show her the depth of his appreciation for her beauty. Lost in his own pleasure, he hoped the tenderness of his kisses would make his feelings clear since he could never seem to express the poetry of his thoughts in words.
When Jason's lips returned to hers, Gahrielle pressed her lithe body along the length of his. Her warmth was slight compared to the heat of his lean physique so she wanted to absorb his fire and then share it. Enjoying his closeness, she let her fingertips slide down his muscular arms, her hands remaining over his until their fingers entwined. He was the most daring of lovers, his kiss an endless delight, his touch teasing. Suddenly her whole body shuddered with the pain of unquenched desire. She could neither beg him to stop, nor plead with him to continue. As she whispered his name her voice, no longer filled with desire, was a hoarse passionate sob.
Jason dared not leave his bride's emotions in such turmoil. He drew her slender hips to his, pulling her so near their bodies at last merged into one vibrant being. Their hearts beat rapidly in unison, their breathing so shallow neither could whisper the sweet endearments the other longed to hear. Passion swept them through time, their need for each other intense, their shared pleasure so glorious the minutes flowed into hours. Indeed, the afternoon passed so swiftly it seemed to have been no more than a wonderful dream which took place in the wink of an eye. Still, neither could bear to leave the other, so their bodies entwined, the gentle peace of sleep overtook them.
The room was veiled in deep shadows by the time Jason woke and forced himself to leave the comfortable bed.
"Please don't go." Gahrielle reached out to catch his hand and whispered an enticing invitation, but she knew he'd not grant her plea even as she spoke it.
"I must," Jason responded sensibly. He gathered up his buckskin breeches as he explained, "If I do not chop more wood we'll be unable to cook our supper or build a sufficient fire to warm the house tonight."
Gahrielle hugged her pillow as she turned away. She wanted him to stay with her—now—as he'd never done before, but he'd refused her request as if it were no more than a distraction from his routine. The bond which existed between them was a tenuous one, and in her opinion, seeking to strengthen that tie
was surely every bit as important as chopping wood.
Gabrielle's cool disdain was quickly transmitted to a man as perceptive as Jason, and seeing that he'd disappointed her he leaned down to kiss the elegant curve of her bare shoulder sweetly. "We'll have the rest of our lives to be lovers, Gabrielle. Don't be so greedy."
It wasn't greed which had motivated her to ask for more of her husband's company, Gabrielle knew that full well. She closed her eyes in an attempt to recapture in her mind the closeness they'd shared. It escaped them so frequently in reality.
Jason put his hands on his hips, frustrated by the auburn-haired beauty's sudden aloofness. "Gabrielle!" he scolded sternly.
"Um?" she replied, exhibiting no real curiosity as to what he might have to say.
"This blasted farm requires backbreaking toil from dawn to dusk every damn day in order to turn even a modest profit. I'd much rather stay in bed with you, but since that's impossible there's no reason for you to pout like a spoiled child who's just lost her favorite toy!"
Deeply hurt by that scathing insult, Gabrielle responded testily. "I am not pouting!" She turned to face him then, eager to learn the truth. "You don't really want to live here, do you.*^
Shocked by the depth of her insight, Jason dismissed her question as nonsense. "Of course I want to live here. Neither of us would be here if I didn't! Stay in bed if you like, but I've got work to do!" Knowing his bride had seen far more than he'd meant to reveal, Jason left their bedroom quickly, intending to complete his chores before he got himself into even deeper trouble.
Gabrielle thought her husband's attitude extremely odd, especially the derogatory way he'd described the work required to maintain their new home. She was doing her part, but apparently that wasn't enough. She rose from bed to see if
she'd neglected any chores before he pointed them out to her in a fit of temper.
As they ate supper, Jason could not avoid Gabrielle's curious gaze, but he attempted to keep her hvely mind from focusing upon his careless remark about the farm. "Clay has made an arrangement with Patrick Murdock to perform wedding ceremonies each Saturday until all thegirls are married. That's best for the reverend, and it will work to our advantage too. I know you want to attend all the weddings, but traipsing back and forth between here and town can get very tedious after a while."
The young minister had impressed her as a sincere man and Gabrielle wondered if he had a family. "Is the Reverend Murdock married?"
"No," Jason admitted with a sly chuckle since he could see where their conversation was leading. "Unfortunately, we did not think to offer to bring him a bride."
Another of Jason's many oversights, Gabrielle thought to herself, but she did not want to upset him by offering that opinion aloud. "Johanna is very religious. She likes Frank Fischer, but she thinks he might be professing a devotion to God merely to impress her."
Jason reached out to take Gabrielle's hand as he replied. "Johanna is a pretty little thing, especially so now that she has taken to wearing her hair in curls. I imagine Frank would say whatever he thought necessary to impress her."
"But that's dishonest! How could any man lie about so important a matter as religion?"
"We don't know that he is, Gabrielle," Jason offered logically. "I'll not question his motives but if Johanna is hesitant to accept Frank's proposal perhaps she should discuss her doubts with Reverend Murdock rather than her friends."
Gabrielle saw the teasing glimmer in her husband's eyes and shook her head. "You devil! You know exactly what will happen if she begins to see him, don't you?"
"I can't predict the future with any accuracy, but if Johanna
truly wants a man devoted to religion then Patrick Murdock seems like the perfect choice."
Gabrielle gave her husband a skeptical glance. "I plan to stay out of the matchmaking business and I'd advise you to do the same."
"A man would be a fool to disregard the advice of his wife when it is as sensible as that," Jason agreed amicably.
"I know precisely how little my advice is worth to you, Jason Royal, so you needn't pretend otherwise." Gabrielle left the table to begin clearing away their supper dishes, changing the subject as she moved away from him. "What chores do you find especially disagreeable? Perhaps I could do more to help you if you'd only teach me what has to be done. I know there is far more to making this farm run smoothly than is apparent at first glance, and I want to do my share."
Jason sat quietly, admiring his wife's graceful beauty as she cleared the table with an economy of motion. It was his own fault he'd let her know how tedious he found the work on the farm, and he did not intend to ask for her help. "You are far too pretty to be doing housework, Gabrielle, let alone any of the more strenuous tasks here. I should be the one to help you, not the other way around."
"What does prettiness have to do with anything? Someone must keep our house neat and cook our meals, and I am more than willing to help with whatever else needs to be done," Gabrielle replied flippantly. She wanted to ask Jason about raising horses, but since he already seemed to feel overburdened she decided to wait for a more opportune time to discuss that enterprise.
Jason scowled as begot to his feet. He had tried to think of a gracious way to refuse her offer of assistance, but she'd obviously not been pleased by his response. "Let's just see that our work is done quickly each day so we'll have plenty of time for each other."
"Why, Jason, is that an apology for this afternoon? If so, I will be happy to accept it, and I promise always to have time for
you/' Gabrielle gave him a charming smile, hoping she had not pushed him too far with that comment. ,
Jason could not bring himself to admit to her what a fool he'd been to leave her alone in their bed. Changing the subject abruptly, he gestured toward the wood-burning stove. "Heat some water. I'll put my mother's copper bathtub in front of the fire and we can bathe before we go to bed."
Gabrielle's expression grew puzzled. Each time she made an attempt to encourage Jason to respond truthfully about his feelings, he quickly changed the subject. He was a pleasant companion, his mood often a teasing one, but why was he so unwilling to share the best part of himself with her? Although thick lashes veiled his glance, she could feel his tension if not understand its cause. If he would not confide in her, she realized that she had no choice but to wait until she won his confidence. She knew exactly what would happen if they were to take turns bathing, and if it were her body he wanted rather than her understanding she'd be a fool to object. Smiling once again, she put the kettle on the back of the stove. "How do we decide who will bathe first?" she asked coyly.
"Ladies should always be first," Jason responded slyly, and he went to fetch the tub from the back porch. He'd dusted out the copper tub that afternoon knowing Gabrielle would want to bathe and now he congratulated himself on that clever bit of foresight.
"Do you usually bathe in front of the fire?" Gabrielle added the last of the hot water and then bent down to judge the bath water's temperature. "Not that it isn't a good idea, but modesty will compel me to seek a more private place in the future."
"You are not in the least bit modest, my pet, but I consider that a favorable trait rather than a fault." Jason stepped up behind his bride, brushing her long hair aside as he nibbled the tender skin of her throat.
"Do you want me to smack you with this kettle?" Gabrielle asked, laughing softly.
To avoid such a ridiculous possibility, Jason took the kettle
from her hand and returned it to the stove. 'Torgive me, what is it that you wish me to say? That you are the most demure and modest of women?" He could not keep his face straight as he spoke and broke into laughter as he drew her into his arms. His fingers moved swiftly down the buttons on her bodice, undressing her with the same haste he'd shown that afternoon. The ribbon bows on her lingerie came loose with a few gentle tugs, and in a moment, he had undressed the lovely young woman who was now his wife. He held her hand as she stepped into the tub and then knelt down beside her, handing her one of the bars of perfumed soap he'd purchased that morning. The exotic fragrance of gardenias had seemed perfect for her translucent skin.
Gabrielle sank down into the warm water, letting the blissful peace of the bath soothe the muscles of her back and arms which still ached from her efforts to clean the house. She closed her eyes only briefly, then feeling guilty for enjoying such an indulgence, sat up straight and made a rich lather with the soap to begin washing herself clean. With Jason hovering so near it was impossible to give much attention to her task, but she tried to ignore his appreciative glance and bathed hurriedly. When she finished and stood up, he handed her the towel he had ready. "If I were to spend another minute in this tub, I'm afraid I'd fall asleep. The water's still warm. Do you wish to use it or shall we heat some more?"
Jason was in too great a hurry to take her to bed to bother heating fresh water, and only after he'd stepped into the tub did he realize the heady scent of gardenias was inappropriate for him. He had other soap, but decided an additional scent would only make matters worse. "I did not realize I would end up smelling like a . . ." He almost said French whore, but caught himself at the last second for that was not what he'd had in mind when he'd purchased the fragrant soap for her.
Gabrielle knelt down beside him and, taking the soap from his hand, began to lather the dark curls which covered his broad chest. "Like what? Like the most modest of brides?" she
teased playfully, and as if her words were not enough her fingertips strayed down his sleek body, her expert touch making the thought of cleanliness a totally irrelevant one.
Jason grabbed Cabrielle's hand, pulling her close to give her a savage kiss, his tongue ravaging her mouth without mercy. When at last he released her, he could scarcely draw breath to speak. "Unless you want to get in this tub with me, I suggest you let me bathe myself."
Responding as if his kiss had been sweet rather than brutally demanding, Gabrielle gave him a bewitching smile. "What an intriguing idea." She rose to her feet, untucked the end of the towel which had secured it over her breasts, and tossing it aside stepped into the tub with him.
Jason threw back his head and howled with laughter as the slippery beauty knelt between his knees. They were soon covered with perfumed bubbles, playing like children, but the tub was far too small for the more adult entertainment Jason had in mind. Taking a firm hold on the sides of the copper tub, he stood up, and with the greatest of care, he helped Gabrielle step out of the water onto one of the braided rugs he'd cleaned. Joining her upon the rug, he reached down for the towel she'd discarded, and after patting her fair skin lightly until she was dry, he scooped her up in his arms. "I swear that is the only way to bathe, but I'll have to buy a larger tub."
Gabrielle lifted her arms to encircle his neck as he carried her to the bed. 'That tub is perfect," she whispered against his ear. "Perfect."
Jason was in no mood to offer her an argument on any subject. They'd survived one day on his farm without many differences; now he meant to enjoy the night. His lips caressed the lightly perfumed skin of his bride's breast. She was warm and so loving he could not wait another instant to make her his own once again. He wound his fingers in her long, damp hair, holding her lips captive beneath his own as he hastened to bring her teasing play to its natural conclusion. No woman excited him as Gabrielle did and he could not hold back the
wave of ecstasy that crested within him and then flooded her slender body with a fiery shudder. He tightened his loving embrace, unwilHng to let her go. When, much later, she fell asleep in his arms, he whis
pered softly. "I will stay with you forever, Gabrielle . . . forever." But she was already lost in a beautiful dream and did not hear the sweet promise that would have pleased her as deeply as the wildness of his passion.
^na^i/iejo ^JLJ^
By Saturday morning, Jason had found no trace of insincerity in Gabrielle's enthusiasm for the farming Hfe they'd begun. Everywhere he looked there was evidence of her handiwork. Their house was more than neat, it sparkled with cleanliness, and the meals she prepared were superb although she'd admitted to having little skill in cooking until she'd helped Paul Slaughter prepare the meals for the women who'd shared her wagon on the long journey west. She took great pride in each task she began, completing it promptly and efficiently. However, seeing her smile as their paths crossed during the day, Jason could not help but feel that her happiness was due to the fruition of her dream to live in Oregon rather than to his efforts to make her feel welcome in his home. He had known almost from the moment they'd met that all he could ever hope to be was a surrogate for Beau. He knew it, but he could not truly accept it. While he now enjoyed her affection he knew that would soon be too little for both of them. Fate had cheated her of the man she loved, but it had also robbed him of any chance to win her heart. Gabrielle would never mention Beau's name to him again, he was certain of that, but he didn't have to hear the man's name to remember the light of love which had shone so brightly in her deep blue eyes the night she'd related the tragic tale of his death.