“Tyler?”
He shook his head. “You didn’t even know you said it.”
She heard disappointment in his voice, and something inside her leaped for joy. In a manner quite foreign to her serious nature, she quipped, “I didn’t realize it was so important.”
“Damnation!” he swore again, but his eyes caressed her face in a most unsettling manner. “A man’d think you had no more sense than a fence post.”
She bowed her neck at that. “Spoken like a true man.”
“’Less of course he had witnessed the little charade at the schoolhouse today.”
“Charade? My performance couldn’t hold a candle to yours, Tyler Grant. If you think it was no more than a parlor game—”
Moving suddenly, he took her face in his palms. In the gentlest gesture she had felt from him yet, he kissed her in midsentence, with her mouth open. “Let’s not get into that right now, Maddie. I’m not near through kissin’ you.”
And Lord in heaven, did he ever prove that. Before he was finished, her arms were around his neck again, although she had no idea whether he placed them there like before, or whether she had been bold enough to move them herself.
Her concerns and fears were soon swamped by a tidal wave of passion such as she had never imagined existed. Kissing involved much more than lips touching lips, she was surprised—and delighted—to discover. Before she knew what was happening, he was kissing her neck, through her proper wedding-ring collar.
She felt her pulse pound against the fabric; she imagined it against his skin. The very thought impelled her to tighten her hold on him, for it sent heated flushes chasing heated flushes through her body.
Again, he caressed her breasts through the fabric of her bodice and undergarments, and again thoughts of his lips on her skin sent heat racing after heat.
Where such thoughts came from she had no idea, for she had never heard it spoken, or even insinuated, that a man would touch a woman in such intimate ways, nor that a woman could suddenly imagine things she had no knowledge of ever having happened.
It must be an innate sense of moral depravity on her part, but even so, she was unable to resist, either Tyler’s advances or the thoughts that his hands and lips evoked from her own brain. Her light-headedness increased, and she began to feel sensual, similar to the way she felt in a scented bath, only magnified many times over.
After his hands moved away, she marveled that her breasts seemed to probe of their own accord into the crispness of his shirt. Once again, her mind envisioned them nude, skin to skin, and the thrill of it was almost too much to bear.
Then, of a sudden, she felt his hands on her back. Not through the fabric this time, but on her skin. For a moment she allowed it, no, she more than allowed it; she enjoyed it—his warm work-hardened hands on skin that had never felt such a sensation; she soaked up the pleasurable emotions, entranced, as though to store them away against a famine she knew beforehand she would experience the moment he removed his hands.
Or the moment she forced him to, she thought, regaining a measure of her wits. She sat back, dislodging his lips, then his hands, which came to rest at her waist in a gesture that filled her with more sweet longing.
“Goldie said you were a gentleman,” she accused softly.
“I am.”
“You unbuttoned my dress.”
“You allowed it.”
“No. I mean, I didn’t know…I wasn’t aware…”
“That proves the point, Maddie.” Speaking, he moved one hand around, found the opening he had made in her dress, and slipped beneath the fabric.
When his skin touched hers, she flinched, but she didn’t shake him off.
“Does it hurt?”
“No.”
His fingers moved over her back in a gentle circular motion. “What does it feel like?”
“I don’t know.” She felt five little circles of heat from the pads of his fingers. “Like fire.”
“Fire, umm. I feel it, too.”
“You do?”
“Of course. But that doesn’t make me less a gentleman or you less a lady. This is what we do together, ladies and gentlemen.”
“No.”
“No?” Pressure from his flattened hand drew her to his chest. She felt his lips against her forehead. She wanted to cling to him, but resisted, suddenly aware of her ignorance in such things. How was she supposed to act? What was expected?
“What else did Goldie tell you? Did she mention anythin’ besides kissin’?”
“Just kissing and…and cuddling.” She spoke into his shirt, and even as she did, she wondered what his bare skin would feel like against her face.
“Like this?” Cradling her in both arms, he rocked them gently from side to side. “Put your arms around me, Maddie. I like to be cuddled, too.”
“You do?”
“Sure.”
After a while, she obliged, albeit hesitantly. They rocked for a time. Her anxieties settled down. He must have sensed it, she thought later, for he began to talk again.
“I’m curious about somethin’,” he drawled.
“What?”
“How you and Goldie came to have this little discussion?”
“Well, I…I mean after the last time, you know, when you stopped on the way back from Morley’s?”
“I remember.”
“I was confused after that, so I talked to Goldie.”
“Confused about what?”
She heaved a sigh. “I’ve never talked about personal things before, I mean, not before I discussed them with Goldie.”
“You were that troubled?”
“Troubled isn’t the word. I…It’s hard to talk to you about this, but it shouldn’t be, since you’re the one responsible.”
“Responsible for what?”
“It was the way you kissed me on the way back from Morley’s. I couldn’t get it out of my mind.”
He didn’t respond for the longest time. Finally, he said, “So, Goldie told you it was safe to kiss me, because I’m a gentleman. I wouldn’t take advantage of you.”
“That, too, but I wasn’t too concerned with that. I can take care of myself.”
Tyler glanced to the wagon beyond. “You and your trusty parasol.”
She grinned. “I’ll use whatever is handy, sir—” Instantly, she tensed and pulled away.
“Maddie, hold on a cockeyed minute.” His hands dropped to her waist again. “Let’s get somethin’ straight.” He peered earnestly into her eyes. “You aren’t a child.” His eyes caressed her face, dropped to her body. “You’re a woman. A…a most desirable woman. What I said earlier about takin’ you over my knee, well, that’s just a way of ventin’ frustrations.”
She bit her lip and looked away into the twilight. “It certainly is.”
“Sayin’ it, Maddie. The expression. I would never, ever strike you or any woman. I made that idle claim out of frustration. Damnation! I don’t like for you to call me sir. It’s worse than Mr. Grant, although they’re both bad enough for a…I mean, it sounds like you’re sittin’ up there on your high horse lookin’ down.”
She grinned, hesitantly.
“Or worse,” he continued, “it sounds like you’re talkin’ to your father.”
The idea jolted her.
“I don’t want to be your father, Maddie. I’m sure he was a fine man, but I don’t want to be like him.”
She stared, gripped by horror. Tyler like Papa? Oh, no. Pray God he wasn’t.
“How ’bout I show you,” he offered.
“Show me what?”
He cradled her face in his hands and kissed her lips tenderly. “That I think you were made to be kissed and cuddled.”
“You do?”
“Sure do. What say we engage in a little more?”
“If you wouldn’t mind.”
“Mind?” When the surprise left his eyes, he continued with, “I think it’s safe to say I’m enjoyin’ myself every bit as much as you are.”
“Oh, I d
oubt it.”
“Then how ’bout I show you?”
Again her inexperience came into play, for while she concentrated on the way his lips caressed hers, he unbuttoned her bodice all the way to her waist in the back. By the time he slipped it over her shoulders and down on her arms, panic had begun to set in.
She held perfectly still while he bent his head. When his lips touched her bare neck, the sensations rocked her. How magnificent! She had imagined it, and it had come true, but even better than she imagined.
He grinned into her upturned face, winked, then returned his lips to her neck, where her pulse beat in rapid consent. She knew he could feel it; she thought she should be embarrassed by the fact; but she was too busy enjoying it—the feel, the heady sensations, the hunger that grew inside her like a flood.
While she tried to dredge up enough compunction to protest, he slipped a hand beneath her corset in the back. Then suddenly, with her concentrating on the hand he slipped beneath her corset in the back, he kissed her chest. Her breasts reacted with a feeling that, had it been sound would have been an agonized cry for more. More!
And as if he heard, he gave her more. More than she had ever, could ever, would ever have imagined. She sat in a state of pure enchantment. Then he lifted a breast out of her corset, cupped it in his palm, and—Lord in heaven, she thought she might faint from the sheer pleasure of it!—he took her breast in his mouth. In his mouth. Of all the strange and wondrous…
“Oh, Mr. Grant, I—”
“Tyler,” he mumbled against her skin.
She tried to pull back, away from his touch, but her body was practically useless by now. Finally she gripped his head in both hands and forced it up. His eyes were glazed.
“Tyler,” she mumbled into his passion-besotted face. When he tried to duck back to her breast, she renewed her hold on his head.
“Remember you’re a gentleman.”
“A gentleman in dire need.”
She wasn’t sure she took his meaning. Her body seemed to, for it hummed with a cry for fulfillment she didn’t understand, one which her brain rejected as ultimately wanton.
“I might have come west to this barbaric land of yours, Tyler Grant, but you will not turn me into a wanton.”
That broke the spell. She could tell it in an instant.
“Me turn you into a wanton? You’re the one takin’ courtin’ lessons.”
“And an apt teacher you turned out to be, I’ll have to admit. But enough is enough.”
“You’ve had enough?”
Enough? She ducked her head. No, she hadn’t had enough. Her body cried for more.
“Be truthful, Maddie. Say you’ve had enough and I’ll never touch you again.”
“Truthful?” Her voice trembled, she heard it. “Truthfully, I’m not sure I could ever get enough. But I must remain in control of my wits, Tyler. I seem to have lost them for a while.”
“Nothing like a dose of candor to douse a fire.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Don’t worry your pretty head about it.” He readjusted her dress. At the last minute, though, before he covered her chest, he dipped his head and kissed her breast once more. “Ah, so sweet.”
She inhaled a deep satisfied breath that pushed her chest against his lips. “I think so, too.”
A sly grin tipped his beautiful lips and he winked. He didn’t speak, he didn’t have to. But she felt a sense of communion with him that made words unnecessary. It filled her with joy, and she could tell he felt that way, too.
Still without speaking, he tugged her dress back up and rebuttoned it. After a while, he guided her back to the wagon with a wrist draped across her shoulders, and he lifted her up to the seat, then retrieved her bonnet and gloves. But when she tried to put the bonnet on, he stopped her.
“Leave it off.”
She questioned him with her eyes.
In response, he lifted a strand of her black hair, then turned it loose to sift slowly through the evening breeze. He lifted another and watched with wonder in his eyes. “I’ve never seen such thick, beautiful hair. Makes a man want to curl up and bury his face in it.”
Compliments were rare to nonexistent in Madolyn’s life. She sat stupefied as his words spirited her off on a flight of fancy. Then he dropped her hair, smacked her on the lips, and rounded the wagon. Before starting up the team, he reached in the back and handed her the parasol.
“If you weren’t worried about protectin’ yourself against a wolf like me,” he drawled, settling his bulky form on the seat beside her. She resisted the urge to snuggle closer. “What was your concern? What else did Goldie tell you?”
“She said you wouldn’t expect a commitment.”
He turned so abruptly, she knew she had startled him. “She’s right, but what difference does that make? To you?”
“I, too, am unable to make a commitment. Like you, I have vowed to remain single.” Madolyn smiled to herself. “And you know, Goldie was right. I thought I was destined to go through life without experiencing things like—” She stopped suddenly, unable to continue.
“Kissin’ and cuddlin’?” he prompted.
His matter-of-fact tone eased her discomfort. After all they had just done together, it was silly not to allow oneself to discuss it. Aided by the growing dusk, she admitted, “I thought I would go through life without ever knowing how it felt. Now I won’t. Thanks to you and Goldie.”
The wagon bounced its way down the hill, but Madolyn hardly noticed. A feeling of contentment suffused her. Loose curls whipped around her face. She tucked them behind her ears and enjoyed the wind on her face. How good it felt to ride through the hazy light of dusk, sitting beside a man. A handsome man, like Tyler Grant. A man who made her feel young and alive and, yes, even sensual.
Tyler broke into her reverie. “So, what’d you think about my town, now?”
“You were right. It’s beautiful at sunset.”
“Will you give up your crusade to ruin me?”
“I’m not trying to ruin you.”
“Reunitin’ the town will do it.”
“Not if you and Morley make up.”
“Morley and I are enemies, sworn to the death, Maddie. So stop meddlin’.”
It was pitch dark by the time he drew rein at the back of the house. Lucky stuck her head out the kitchen door.
“That you, Miss Maddie?”
“It’s me, Lucky.”
“And me,” Tyler added. “Send Clements out here to take this wagon and team back to the livery, would you, Lucky?”
“Sure ’nuf, Mr. Tyler.” Then she added, “I’ll send Penny-Ante up with a supper tray, Miss Maddie.”
Madolyn froze at the suggestion. She must look a fright. Besides, she had no desire to provide Annie with an extra opportunity to see Tyler. “Don’t bother with that. I’ll come downstairs.”
Tyler rounded the wagon and helped her down. His warm hand lingered at her waist, until she moved away. By silent consent they walked together toward the outside stairs. She started up the steep flight, felt his presence behind her, longed to feel his hand on her back, his arms around her. But what else did she want from this man? How much could she take and still remain in control of herself? How much was he prepared to give and still walk away?
All the way to town she had tried to sort out her feelings. Despite Goldie’s claim that kissing and cuddling with Tyler would be harmless, Madolyn felt a strange sense of foreboding about the whole affair.
The mention of Penny-Ante only magnified her dismal spirits. Annie, who laundered Tyler’s shirts and what else? Did he kiss Annie like he kissed her? Did he touch her so intimately? Take her breasts into his mouth…
Madolyn shuddered at the thought.
“Are you cold?” Tyler hovered behind her, close, yet not close enough. She stopped on the stairs and felt him stop, too.
With her back to him, she said, “Tyler, I…”
He came to the step beside her. “What, Maddie?”
Turning, she reached to touch his cheek, which was about all she could make out in the pale moonlight. But no sooner had she moved, than he moved, too.
In one fluid motion he gathered her in his arms and fell back against the side of the building. Sensuous lips covered hers, caressing hands roamed her back. She pressed against him, shamelessly wanting more, yet not fully aware of what more meant.
The mention of Annie had again called to mind the scene she witnessed from her doorway that first morning—Tyler’s enticingly bare chest, his unbuttoned duckins, bare feet. And Annie’s finger twirling in his navel. The sight had disturbed her; now the memory of it disturbed her even more. Recalling the scene fired some inner drive, setting her on a quest to discover more. But what? What could a woman pledged to spinsterhood hope to discover about the more sordid aspects of life? What did it say about her that she longed—no, craved to experience such things?
“Goldie was right,” she whispered when they paused for breath. “This is most pleasurable.”
He grinned against her skin. She felt his labored breathing, and her own. “I couldn’t agree more, Maddie. But I don’t think this is all Goldie had in mind.”
“No? It’s nice.”
Of a sudden, he scooped her in his arms and carried her the rest of the way up the stairs. Without releasing her he opened the door and stepped into the upstairs hallway, which was lit by a series of wall fixtures down its length.
“Put me down,” she whispered.
He tightened his hold.
“Someone might see us, Tyler. Put me down.”
By this time he had made it to her parlor door. He held her a minute longer, then set her on her feet. But instead of releasing her, he bracketed her legs with his and pressed her back against the door. “Would it matter?”
Shadows from the fixtures played across the planes of his face. His dark hair was disheveled, enticingly so. She knew hers was, too. “Yes.”
He kissed her once, then lifted his face enough to make eye contact, nose to nose. “Why?”
“It isn’t proper.”
“I thought you said it was nice.”
“It is.”
“Uh-huh.” Encircling her small waist he drew her up, held her tight, while one hand flattened against her spine, running its length, fitting her body to his.
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