His lips found her breast. She whimpered and felt submissive but was powerless to object. As though she were clay, he sculpted her emotions, building her passion by increments, chasing her fears into a distant corner of her brain. His open palm laved her skin with heat; his fingers seared fire to her very core; his lips devoured, invited, provoked, incinerating her fears, leaving only love to rise through the ashes of her past.
Love for this man, who, with his lips and hands and softly murmured reassurances brought her passion to a shattering crescendo. When her tremors subsided, he held her close, so close she felt the rigid evidence of his own need, which he held in check behind a barrier of clothing.
Not once did he complain. Instead, he whispered soft, crooning words against her skin and nipped kisses across her face. She held him fast. She had never felt so loved, so secure, so safe.
“I hate the way you make me feel.”
He chuckled. “I can tell.”
“I do.”
“What do you hate about it, love?”
“I hate feeling safe with you; I hate feeling like I can’t live without you.”
“Oh, Maddie, love, please—”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Then I’ll have to prove it, won’t I, how safe you are? As far as not bein’ able to live without me, or any other man, you’ve already proved you can. But just because you can, doesn’t mean you should. Why do you think the Man Upstairs put man and woman on this earth, if not to be together?”
“I want no part of the togetherness I’ve seen.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that.”
She drew back, confused, yet desperate to make him understand. “Look back through the ages, Tyler. Pick any part of history you want, and what do you find? Women subservient to men. I can’t live like that. Not only because I’m afraid; I don’t want to live like that. I told you how I hated my mother for being submissive. Well, I hated myself, too. Earlier tonight, I hated myself for blindly following you up those stairs, for sitting where you told me to, when you told me to, even though I expected the worst.”
He stroked her head, sifting fingers through her thick hair. “I don’t have an answer for that,” he admitted. “Not a new one. But I’ll tell you the way I see it. Yes, there are husbands who abuse their wives. But they’re not the majority. There are husbands who think their way is the only way, they make the decisions, that’s pretty standard. But it doesn’t have to be like that. I told you back on the trail that as soon as we get back across the border, we’ll sit down and divvy up the authority. We will. I want to marry you—”
“You promised not to say that.”
“I can’t help it, Maddie. I want what I want.”
“Like a true man.”
“Hell, yes, like a true man. I ache like a true man, too.” He held her close, running a possessive hand down her spine, pressing her body against his, as if to illustrate exactly where and how much he ached for her. “Tell you what, we won’t talk about this again till we’re back on Texas soil. How’s that?”
“Fine.”
“We don’t need to talk all that much, anyhow.” As if to prove the point, he kissed her again, the tenderest, deepest, wettest, most passionate kiss she had ever imagined.
And in the following days, he continued to prove that point. Madolyn had never imagined two people could engage in so much kissing! Why, who ever heard of such a thing?
Certainly, Miss Abigail would have been mortified, had she known. Fortunately, Miss Abigail wasn’t along. Once they returned to Texas, Madolyn reasoned, she could worry about regaining her sense of right and wrong. Later, she would find the strength to do what she knew all along she must do.
But for the time being, she did exactly what Tyler said; it wasn’t submitting, she reasoned, when she wanted it, too. Like an old reptile skin, the strictures of her civilized world sloughed off, leaving her free to enjoy the fantasy of loving and being loved. And enjoy, she did. She would repent later, but for now, she was having too much fun.
Their first morning in the stable, Tyler brought her two dresses. She had slept soundly and awakened to find him gone. He returned soon after, bearing a package wrapped in brown paper.
“María went into the village overnight. See if these fit. I told her you were about her size.”
“And how did you decide that?” She had awakened lightheaded and still giddy from her night with Tyler. That she could tease him about a topic as serious as another woman, delighted her.
He pulled her to him. The package squashed between them. “Not the way you think, Maddie, love. She’s Sánchez’s woman, and even if she weren’t…” He kissed her then, an all-consuming, proprietary kiss that rendered his final words useless. “…you’re all the woman I need, now or ever.”
To cover her distress, Madolyn tore into the package, pulling out two cotton shifts. One black, one white, they were fashioned the same—loose-fitting, with colorful embroidery decorating the yokes, and belts to tie or not.
“Now, all I need is a bath,” she said, only half in jest. She couldn’t recall ever being so dirty, not even as a child.
“Run down to the river,” he suggested. “I’m fixin’ to take the men off to dip cattle. You won’t be disturbed.” He kissed her again. “Not that I wouldn’t give my eyeteeth to join you.”
“Tyler!” But, far from being offended, she was pleased. Never had she imagined herself engaging in intimate jesting with a man, a man who loved her. And, dear Lord help her, yes, a man she loved in return.
Cypress trees formed a natural cove around a bend in the little river that meandered down from the hills. Although the water was cold, it was also invigorating, and she scrubbed with the harsh ash soap Hortensia had provided, after a discussion that consisted mostly of hand signals.
She scrubbed her hair and her body and never once wished for hot water or rose-scented soap. With lacy leaves forming a canopy overhead and embankments to either side of the swiftly flowing stream, she had her own private bathing glen.
Beauty suffused her, and here, alone in this place, peace begin to seep into the void left by unburdening her soul to Tyler. She sat on a rock slab to dry, letting the soft, cool breeze blow across her naked body in a free and open manner she could never have imagined herself doing in the past.
At Tyler’s insistence, she had purged herself of those dreadful memories, leaving not an empty, useless shell, but a receptacle for his love. And he filled her with it, a love so complete, so gentle, so selfless that it took her breath, just recalling it.
The intimacy, the splendor, the gifts he had given.
The gift of acceptance, listening to her story without rejecting her for her parents’ shameful behavior.
The gift of fulfillment, when he was so obviously in need. But he didn’t complain. Not even when it was over and he pulled her close and she felt the rigid evidence of his own need. She had lain in his arms, filled with joy and relief and a great sense of sadness, that she could not give him gifts in return, one above all others, the gift of her love.
She spent the day alone, wandering the riverbank, sitting beneath a shade tree, watching fish jump in the water, birds light on branches overhead, hearing their song, the lapping of the water, the wind through the trees. And she began to heal.
By the end of the day the jagged edges of her memories were not as sharp. Then he returned and the sight of him sent fear chasing the longing she had felt all day. Her longing to give in to him, to love him, once more became entangled with her lifelong fears. He stood in the door to their room, and she stood still as a held breath in the center of it.
He was clean; his hair still dripped. She wondered whether he had bathed in the same secluded spot as she. She recalled his teasing that he wished they could bathe together.
That wish had stayed with her the day long, while she bathed, wishing he were there; while she sunned on the rock, the soft air drying her body, she wished for him.
Now he stood
before her, and she knew what he wanted, and she trembled.
In two steps he was beside her. “Told you they’d fit,” he mumbled, just before he kissed her. It was a strong, solid kiss that spoke of the day’s separation and the coming together they both wanted. His hands skimmed down her arms, found her breast.
He drew back, eyebrows arched. His hands slipped to her ribs. His warm eyes danced over her face with a combination of laughter and chagrin.
“Where the hell did this come from?”
“What?”
“What?” he mimicked with a grin. “You know damn well what. I told you to leave that corset behind.”
“No, you didn’t. You said I shouldn’t wear it riding horses, and you were right. But now, with a dress, and…”
While she spoke, he edged the dress up her body, scrunched it around her neck, and went to work untying her corset.
“Tyler?”
“Maddie,” he mimicked again. Then his hands were on her skin. His gentle, rough hands that worked magic on her body. He cupped her breasts in his palms and looked into her eyes.
“Thought you liked the feel of my hands.”
She returned his stare, direct, proud. The glow spread through her. “I do.”
He fumbled with the tie on her bloomers. “Then don’t girt up so I can’t reach you.”
“Tyler?”
Her bloomers fell to the floor. His hands possessed her; his lips took a breast. All sense was lost to her. Only once, when he lifted her in his arms and carried her to their bedroll, did she manage to object.
“Don’t worry, Maddie. Nothin’ll happen.”
“But you? I want it to be good for you, too.”
He smiled into her bewildered eyes. “I have you, love. And I have patience. For now I’ll settle for those two things.”
As the days passed in this idyllic land, as the nights passed in the arms of this perfect man, Madolyn grew ever more secure. She lived each day for his return and spent each night locked in his arms. Eventually that was not enough. She loved him, there was no denying that. And he loved her and deserved more of her, all of her. And she wanted, oh how she wanted, to give herself to him. To ease his aching body and troubled mind. To cast caution to the wind, to swear her love and allegiance for now and forever. Still, she was unable to do so.
She did finally, however, persuade him to let her watch the dipping process. He hadn’t wanted to, she could tell that.
“It’s dangerous, Maddie. The Rurales could come upon us at anytime. I don’t want you in the middle of a shootout.”
That convinced her, as nothing else could have. She had to go. She could not sit idly back at the stable, while Tyler faced the Rurales. Although just what she could do to prevent a shootout evaded her comprehension. She didn’t let him see her concern, however, but laughed it off with a wave of the hand.
“Pshaw! We haven’t caught sight of the Rurales since we’ve been here. If you think you can leave me with the women by using that timeworn excuse, think again.”
By the time she ended her little speech, he was laughing. “Pshaw? I’ve never heard you use that word.”
“I haven’t either,” she admitted. “My grandmother used to brush things off with it.”
“So did mine.” His gaze ignited fires inside her. “There’s somethin’ else we have in common, case we’re still lookin’.”
She kissed him, proud of herself for acting so boldly, especially when she saw how it pleased him. “You’re awfully good at that,” she murmured.
“What’s that, love?”
“Changing the subject. When can I watch you work cattle?”
“Soon.” And he kept his promise.
Several days later, he allowed her to come with them to the box canyon. It was a comfortable, lazy sort of day. At least for Madolyn.
She sat back on the hillside beneath a stand of cotton-woods, watching the work and eating tortillas and chorizo left over from breakfast. The difficulty of the work astounded her, especially since she knew how hard it was to stay on the back of a horse. When Tyler joined her at midday, it was for only a brief respite. He plopped down beside her, pecked her on the cheek, and took the tortilla she rolled around a hunk of the spicy sausage.
“How much longer?”
“Till we finish,” he responded, explaining. “This is the last bunch. By dark we should have them headed for Texas.”
“We’re leaving?” For days now she had expected this. No fantasy lasted forever. With each day that passed, she dreaded leaving this wonderland more.
“Raúl and Sánchez will start the cattle on the road tonight. You and I will go back for our gear. We’ll leave in the mornin’, meet up with them tomorrow night.”
Tomorrow. One more night. Dismally she pulled her mind off the future. She couldn’t ruin what time they had left. She handed him another roll of chorizo. “I’ve never seen men work so hard. You must be exhausted.”
“You said it.” In a heartbeat his eyes had found hers, held hers. He winked. “For just about everythin’, love.”
That’s all it took for the glow that burned constantly inside her now to burst into flame. She didn’t mind him calling her love, anymore. She savored the sound. It made her feel wanted, like she belonged to someone, someone who would protect and cherish her. And love her.
“You have work to do,” she hedged.
“Afterwards?”
Afterwards? Her heart leaped at the thought. She should refuse. She must refuse. Then again, what harm could it do? One time. One more time.
She had been over and over this, in argument with herself. Tyler hadn’t begged or even asked her. Oh, he teased about it, like now. She knew he was serious, but he never pressured her.
She pressured herself, and her latest argument against abstaining could well be her downfall. One time. What harm could one time do?
Plenty. One time was all it took. One time and she could conceive Tyler’s baby. But for the life of her, she was unable to dredge up one ounce of concern over that. What harm would having his baby do? Indeed, if she couldn’t have him, wouldn’t his baby be the next best thing?
“Humm,” he was saying, nudging her cheek with his nose. “What’s on your mind, love?”
Her heart throbbed in her chest. It always did when they were close, and more so when she thought about making love with him. She knew he knew.
But like the gentleman he was, he ignored it. She turned her face until her lips touched his. “We’ll see.”
He went back to work after that, and she sat the whole afternoon on the hill beneath the cottonwood trees. She watched the vaqueros, but did not see them. She argued with herself, tried to talk herself out of this thing she wanted so badly. When Tyler came once in the middle of the afternoon for a cool drink, she knew he recognized her dilemma; she knew he shared it.
She couldn’t meet his eyes. She felt stiff, awkward. He didn’t stay long, just long enough to kiss her cheek and whisper, “What’s on your mind, Maddie, love?”
The sun had sunk halfway below the hills before they finished dipping. Raúl and Sánchez headed the herd out of the canyon. Maddie prepared to leave, but Tyler remained at the creek. She watched, mesmerized, while he stripped and bathed. She was too far away to see details of his body, but she imagined them. And she longed to see him, to feel him.
Then he was sauntering up the hill, his hair still dripping, his shirt slung over one shoulder, a grin the size of Texas on his face. She couldn’t take her eyes from him. The top two buttons on his duckins were undone. She thought about that first morning when she caught him standing in his doorway, half dressed, flirting with Annie. When she left he would have Annie again. But today…
Reaching her, he knelt on one knee, his beloved, all-consuming presence spilling over her. When he spoke it was in a playful, teasing tone, but his eyes were earnest. “Think I’m clean enough to make love to my lady?”
Make love. Her breath caught at the words, at their implication, a
t the way the glow inside her flamed at the thought. Before she could consider refusing, she caught his face in her hands and pulled his lips to hers.
He kissed her until she was dizzy. Then he drew back mere inches. “Want to wait till we get back to the stable?”
“No.”
She saw at once how pleased he was. His eyes danced in a glaze of moisture, and she felt tears gather behind her own lids.
His hands trembled when he skimmed the white shift up her body, stripped it over her head, and discarded it. His eyes worshipped her while his fingers fumbled with the ties on her chemise and bloomers. His hands spanned her rib cage, and she knew she never wanted anything else to touch her there ever again…only Tyler’s hands.
“I gave María the corset,” she whispered.
He chuckled. “Poor ol’ Sánchez.”
Timidly, she reached to touch his bare chest. The muscles quivered when she sifted her fingers through the silky hair. Following her hands with her eyes, she traced his ribs, while he bracketed himself over her, stiff-armed, forehead drooped to hers. Her hands skimmed his waist. Then she did it. She twirled her index finger into his navel, twisted and rolled it. Delighted, she found his eyes, grinned, and admitted, a bit sheepishly, “I’ve wanted to do that for such a long time.”
He laughed, deep, full-bodied and husky, while his eyes smoldered. “Why, Miss Madolyn Sinclair! Shame on you. What would Miss Abigail say?”
Thinking about Miss Abigail at this particular moment was ludicrous. Madolyn laughed. “Miss Abigail is in Boston, Tyler. And I’m here…with you…”
While she teased, he kicked off his britches, and by the time the words died on her lips, he had buried himself deeply into her core. “And I’m inside you, love, and dang if I don’t want to stay forever.”
She couldn’t respond; she couldn’t even take her eyes from his. She glowed like the sun at high noon. Her body hummed, her head spun in dizzying circles, and as his body filled hers, stretching and probing and thrusting, her heart filled to bursting with his love.
The force of his passion mesmerized her. She saw the power of it reflected in his desperate gaze, in the grim set to his mouth. He had filled her mind, her life, these last few months, and now his body filled hers with a driving passion, fiery, throbbing, and all-consuming. It mounted, intensified, and carried her higher and higher and higher.
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