He paused, bending his head, and tool several steadying breaths. Sweat coated her hands as she grasped the muscles of his arms. Then he kissed her with a tenderness that seemed at odds with his rigidly-held body.
When he came into her it hurt, but she feared if she told him he would leave. And now, as her body began to accept the fullness of him, she realized she didn’t want him to withdraw. He began to move inside her and she felt the tension build again, felt his chest move against her breasts, felt her senses heightened, aware of only him, of wanting him, of needing him.
Logan’s hands brought her legs around his hips. He moved in and out of her with unrelenting precision, wrapping his arms behind her backside and pressing even closer. Claire hung onto him, overwhelmed by it all, tears trailing a wet path to her ears.
Her climax slammed through her without warning and she clawed at Logan’s back, every muscle in her body tightening around him. He tensed in response as Claire rode the intense wave, sliding back from the pleasure in a complete daze.
Logan shifted slightly from her bandaged side. He kissed her and rubbed his nose on her cheek. Claire closed her eyes as he rested his forehead on her shoulder. She could still feel him inside her. It was a wicked and satisfying dream, everything her body had needed, and more.
After a time he rolled away, left the bed, and returned with a towel. He gently cleaned her then drew the covers over the both of them, gathering her into his arms. Too exhausted to speak, Claire drifted off as Logan’s hand did lazy circles lower and lower along her back.
Logan thought of the woman in his arms, the steady rise and fall of her chest signaling the onset of sleep.
She made love as if her life depended on it.
And something in the back of his mind echoed the sentiment.
He didn’t remember it being like this with Dee.
Chapter Thirteen
Claire awoke during the night. The covers had fallen away and she was completely naked; it should have embarrassed her but it didn’t. She carefully propped herself on one arm, and looked over to where Logan slept on his back. Moonlight filtered through the window, allowing her to view him in a white glow. A mat of dark hair covered his chest; his lean, well-muscled shoulders made her itch to be in his arms again. Her gaze trailed down his stomach to the patch of hair farther down. The mere sight of him made her body react.
He was her husband now. There was nothing wrong with what they’d done, and there was nothing wrong with the fact that she wanted to do it again. She lay down beside him, the tip of one breast grazing his arm. It surprised her that sex would appeal so much, that she would so willingly enjoy the act—so willingly give herself over to it. Perhaps it was the biggest mistake she would ever make, but it was hardly something she wanted to think about at the moment.
She needed Logan to touch her again, to make her feel frantic and mad and half-wild. She kissed his cheek then nuzzled his neck, and soon he began to stir. She felt bolder and moved to his chest, kissing and rubbing her nose through the hairs. His hands came to her head and pulled her toward his face, bringing their mouths together. She moved on top of him, the full brunt of his arousal pushing against her abdomen.
His tongue thrust in and out of her mouth as his hands firmly gripped the sides of her head. He came up for air and whispered, “Are you sure? I don’t want you to be sore.”
She didn’t doubt she’d be sore, but that by no means discouraged her. She nibbled his ear and relaxed against him. “I’m sure.”
He rolled her over and ran a hand over one breast and down to her hips, then stopped to gaze at her bared to him, body and soul. Logan compelled her—aroused her. With instincts newly discovered, she sensed the power and beauty she possessed and the way she aroused him. Sex was intoxicating. The sweetest medicine for any ailment.
Logan lightly ran a finger between her breasts as he kissed her collarbone then moved lower and placed his mouth over one of her nipples. As his tongue and lips circled and tugged, Claire arched back and her breath hissed; her fingers became tangled in the sheets. Logan’s left hand moved between her legs, caressing her, stroking her. She moaned, the sensitivity of her body stringing her as tight as a rope.
With his mouth on her breast and his finger inside her, he brought her close to completion. Logan removed his hand and Claire whimpered, nearly begging him not to leave her. With a sigh of anticipation she waited for him to finish what he’d started, startled when he sat up and drew her to him.
She straddled him and hung tight while he pushed into her; she leaned her head on his shoulder as her body shuddered in response. As he shifted her closer, she wrapped her legs around him and with one hand braced behind her head he kissed her, uniting their mouths in the same way their bodies merged together.
She clung to him, her hair hanging down her back and tickling her exposed bottom. He lifted her slightly to move in and out, but Claire’s body succumbed quickly. Logan held her steady as he thrust into her with short, rhythmic bursts, and if his own shudders were any indication, he achieved his release at the same time.
Claire’s body shook and tears once again ran down her face. Logan kissed her. “Shhh,” he said against her mouth. “Darlin’, don’t cry.”
She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face into Logan’s neck. He held her close as they sat on the bed. “I’m fine,” she insisted, flustered by the show of emotion, wondering what caused it.
Logan gathered her closer, their naked bodies touching in the intimate darkness. The scent of their lovemaking surrounded her, not an unpleasant smell, and it made her feel connected to him—not as an acquaintance, not as a friend, but as a lover. The union made her body vibrate with longing for him, even now, buried as he was still inside her.
“I’ve thought of you like this,” he murmured. “Ever since that night I found you in my bed all those months ago.”
She sniffed then laughed. A sigh quickly followed on the same breath, her mind—her heart—a mass of confusion. Bewildered by her need for him, she nipped and tasted the skin below his ear, the contact sweet and desperate.
“I had no idea,” she said. She couldn't deny she'd been interested in him after their initial meeting, but she never would have guessed at the hunger that consumed them tonight. She never would have guessed this had lain dormant between them. “You kept it to yourself very well.”
“Maybe if I hadn’t, you would’ve stayed on at the SR.” He leaned back and faced her.
“I had to come back,” she said quietly.
He kissed her, lips parted, wisps of her hair catching between their mouths. “Then it’s a good thing I followed you, or else you’d be with Shorty right now.” His tongue pushed open her mouth and entered forcefully; his hands braced the back of her head for his assault.
Dazzled from the kiss, her defenses down, she responded truthfully, “I’m glad I’m with you instead.”
“Then we’re off to a good start.”
And to her amazement, Logan made love to her again.
* * *
Claire awoke with a start. Logan stood at the open hotel-room door, dressed only in trousers, and let someone in. “Louisa!” she blurted with surprise. She sat up and clutched the sheets to cover her nudity. “What are you doing here?”
The sultry Mexican beauty wore an oversized duster and a hat with a wide brim, and when Claire’s gaze dropped to the woman’s feet and saw the heavy boots covering them, she knew something was wrong. “What’s happened?”
Louisa shut the door quickly behind her. “I sorry to interrupt. I no have much time. The owner, he will awake soon.” She indicated the clothing she wore. Gone was her beguiling nature and in its place was an earnestness Claire had never before seen from her.
“I hear Belle, at first no on purpose, but then sí, on purpose. She talk to Harry Myers. He ride north to find Frank Griffin. He speak of Maggie as if he know where she is. He say she go to the mountains, and he brag he know how to find her.”
“How?
” Claire asked.
“Harry and Luttrell were compadres, you know? Harry say Luttrell leave a treasure in the hills; he say Maggie know where it is. She go to the Cristos to find.”
“If Harry and Teddy were so tight, why doesn’t Harry just lead Griffin there himself?” Logan asked, folding his arms across his naked torso and drawing a speculative glance from Louisa.
Even in the woman’s panicked state she still couldn’t keep her eyes off Logan, irritating Claire. If she hadn’t been completely unclothed, Claire would have crossed the room and stood between them.
Louisa shook her head. “I know not. But most importante, Myers say he and Griffin will do away with Maggie when they find her.”
Claire’s heart stopped. Her only glimmer of hope was that Maggie had yet to be found by anyone. Maybe Myers wouldn’t locate her either. He never struck Claire as overflowing with intellect.
“I go now,” Louisa said. “If I hear more, I bring it to you. I no want anything to happen to Maggie, she always good to us.” She turned to Logan. “Will you check hall? I no wish to be seen.”
Logan helped Louisa depart then locked the door. Silence filled the room.
“I can guess what you’re thinking,” he finally said from across the room. “And let me tell you right now—no.”
“What?”
“You’re not going after Myers.”
“Somebody has to,” Claire said loudly.
“I’ll go. I want you to stay with Tia. Get out of town, and don’t let anyone know where you are.”
Claire bent her knees and leaned forward against them; the sheet still covered what Logan had already seen. She shook her head. “No. I want to come with you.”
“I don’t agree. This could be dangerous.”
“You have no obligation to do this. You don’t know my mama, or Myers, or Griffin. You’re not in the middle of this. Why would you go?”
“You’re wrong,” he replied. “I am in the middle. You’re my wife.”
The statement hit her square between the eyes, and all she could do was stare at him. Logan would ride off, guns blazing, in an effort to help her, and while it was noble and flattering and something she never expected from a man, she also hated it. If Logan ended up dead, it would be all her fault.
“Since I am your wife,” she said slowly, “then I want to come with you. I can’t—I won’t—let you do this alone.”
Logan scratched his mussed hair and looked at the floor, but he wouldn’t come to the bed—to her. Claire wanted him to touch her as he had all night long. She also wanted to make certain any images that lingered of Louisa—unattractive attire aside—were erased from his mind.
“We don’t have much time,” she said, her voice husky, her intentions clear. Women had long used their bodies to get what they wanted, why should she be any different? Besides, she wanted it too. “Come back to bed.” She moved the sheet away from her.
The desire was plain to see on his face, and elsewhere, despite his trousers. He crossed the room and stood beside the bed. His eyes ran the length of her, and the excitement of what was to come spread like wildfire through her body.
“You realize, of course, that when our marriage hits the papers today, Griffin and Myers will most likely come looking for you.”
“Then we don’t have much time.”
His gaze bore into her, his frustration evident.
“You stay close to me and do everything I say,” he said. He removed his trousers, but didn’t touch her.
Claire knew he talked not only about Myers, but also about making love to her. “All right,” she agreed.
He brought her legs over the edge of the bed, and only when he was fully inside did he lean over and kiss her. In a mad frenzy, their coupling didn’t take long.
Chapter Fourteen
When they left town that morning, Claire rode a horse Logan purchased because he felt Reverend could use a rest. They headed north toward Cimarron, and followed the same path from several days before when Claire pretended she had a husband. Now, it was a reality.
Logan appeared to have some idea of where he was going, of what he was doing. Claire fell into a contemplative silence and wondered if chasing after Harry Myers would prove fruitful, or a complete waste of time. Would they find her mama before it was too late? Would they find Jimmy? She sincerely hoped so.
With the sun shining bright and the open plains beckoning them forward, she had trouble getting hold of the thought that she and Logan were married. It had been only one week since he showed up on steps of the White Dove. As if caught in a storm, she felt her head spinning, everything moving fast and furious, and last night was no exception. Logan had overpowered her, consumed her, had made every one of her desires come true—as well as a few she hadn’t known about—all under the respectful guise of marriage.
They headed west of Fort Union, riding farther into the tree line this time, so pine and cedar crowded around them—grand sentinels of the forest. Their progress was slow.
Claire wondered if they were actually behind Myers. There’d been no sign of the men in town before she and Logan had departed, for which she was grateful, but that didn’t necessarily mean the man had left town at all. Perhaps this would help her and Logan gain a head start and locate Maggie and Jimmy first. The thought filled her with hope.
“Do you have any idea where we’re going?”
“Some.” His eyes flashed as he glanced at her, their horses side by side.
The heat in her belly kicked up a notch. What was wrong with her? They’d spent a long night together. Why did she wonder when he might touch her next? Not hold her hand or kiss her cheek, but remove her clothes and make her body clench with need.
“I don’t mean to be rude, but how in the world will we find Myers or Griffin? Are we going all the way back to Cimarron?” she asked.
Logan’s dark gaze rested on her again. “We’re following Sandoval.”
“We are?” Alarm and dread both filled her at once. She was so stupid. Of course Sandoval would be involved in whatever was going down with Griffin. “I didn’t even know he was back in town.”
“He kept a low profile. Seems you did knick him in the shoulder when you shot at him the other night. Louisa told me when I went out to buy your horse.”
The casual mention of the sultry Mexican prostitute brought Claire up short. “I see,” she murmured.
“Sandoval has a bad habit of dumping the contents of his smoking pipe.”
Claire looked on the ground around them. “You’ve seen it?”
Logan nodded.
“You’ve got a better eye than I do,” she said and wondered if his eye had looked more than once at Louisa. She felt threatened and didn’t like it. She wasn’t sure which was worse—fearing for her life from Sandoval, or fearing the loss of Logan’s attentions to another woman. “How do you know he smokes a pipe?” she asked distractedly.
“I smelled it on him the other night. It’s a very distinct combination of tobacco and other ingredients, sometimes called kinnikinnic.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
“It’s an Indian mix,” Logan said. “The tobacco is combined with willow bark or sumac leaves or somethin’ else.”
“Do you think he knows where my mama is?”
“Hard to say, but he’s definitely moving with determination. I’m betting he’s to meet up with Myers or Griffin. So, we’ll just hang back awhile.”
“All right,” she replied. But given a choice, she wouldn’t follow the footsteps of Raul Sandoval. Logan’s apparent lack of concern eased her discomfort, but only a little. She knew he would never deliberately put her in danger. If anything did happen, it would be by her own hand since she insisted on coming. She should trust him. “If I hadn’t been shot in Cimarron we might not have left. Maybe we would have found her.”
“But we wouldn’t have found the key or the land title,” he replied, pushing his hat back a bit on his forehead.
“My mama
could be anywhere in these hills,” Claire said, daunted by the task of searching for her.
“We’ll get a bead on Myers and Griffin, let them lead the way, then slide in behind and get to her first.”
Claire nodded. She just hoped when they did, it wouldn’t be too late. And she prayed that Jimmy would be safe and sound.
* * *
Nightfall approached as they rode into Cimarron once again. Logan wondered if Sandoval would stop first at the house outside of town where Griffin had been holed up—the same homestead where Claire had been shot. Not comfortable to leave her in town, he hid her in the wilderness while he checked out the spread, but it was deserted. The fresh tracks of three horses snaked away from the dwelling, and he concluded that Sandoval had met up with Griffin and Myers. After picking up the trail northwest of town, Logan retrieved Claire before heading into the mountains.
Complete darkness finally forced him to stop and set up camp with his wife. He liked the sound of that. While he’d been reluctant to commit his heart to another woman, he knew Claire was the only one worthy of the effort. And although he would’ve liked more time to ease them both into such a permanent commitment, he suspected they’d never have had that luxury considering the circumstances.
Life was a gamble, Logan had always believed that, and he knew he’d just taken a big risk. But there was no choice really—he wanted Claire too much to let her slip away from him.
He pitched a tent, then tended to the horses while Claire unpacked their gear. He told her no fire and she quietly agreed. He hobbled the horses as a breeze blew through the surrounding pine boughs, and for a moment he paused to savor the solitude. With Claire at his side, Logan found it difficult to view the future as an unknown void.
He sat across from where Claire perched on a low rock, and offered her bread and cheese.
“It still seems strange to me,” she said. “Being married.” She stared at the food in her hands.
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