After Sundown (24 page)

Her eyes met Lucas’s briefly before she shifted her gaze back to her hands, gripping the chair. “James had seen me from the window of his office,” she told him softly. “And after Mama and the man in the ascot went and talked, she came back and said... said...”

Her voice choked out for a moment.

“She said I would have a fancy suite in that very same hotel that had turned us away, with a feather bed, and a maid, and a big coal stove to keep warm in the winter.” She blinked rapidly, her dark eyes glistening in the lamplight. “And all I had to do in return was nothing, really. Almost nothing.”

Lucas felt the muscles in his jaw harden. Maybe it hadn’t occurred to Antoinette—maybe she was too innocent or naïve to see it this way, or too blind where her mother was concerned—but he would bet his last dollar that her mother had had a reason for dressing her up and parading her down St. Charles’s main street. And it hadn’t been a birthday celebration.

She had been advertising beautiful merchandise for sale. “Did James offer to take care of your mother, too?” Lucas asked tightly, already certain of the answer.

She nodded. “He gave her some money every month. I never saw her so happy. She was getting older, and—”

“And her beauty was fading and she wanted to make sure she was taken care of. Even if it meant making you pay the price.”

Antoinette’s head came up, her eyes narrowing. “That’s not true. She wanted
me
taken care of. She wanted me to have a better life than what she had, and she knew James would see to that.”

Lucas didn’t say any more, deciding to keep his opinion to himself. Any woman who would trade her own daughter for money wasn’t worthy of being called a mother—though he could think of a few other choice words for her.

“I could’ve said no,” Antoinette insisted, lifting her chin, clearly unwilling to spare herself any of the blame. “I knew it was wrong. But he was kind to me, from the first time we met. He was the first respectable gentleman who was ever
kind
. And Mama... she...”

Annie let go of the chair and turned away from him, wrapping her arms around her waist. “She said all I had to do was be... be careful not to make any... mistakes.” Her voice became hoarse. “You always said that my mama probably taught me a lot of tricks, but she only taught me one.” She hung her head. “How to be careful,” she whispered. “How to avoid having a baby.
That
was the only trick she ever taught me, the only advice she ever offered me.”

Lucas shut his eyes, wishing he could take back the brutal words he had flung at her so many times.

“So you see, it
was
my fault,” she continued unsteadily. “It was my fault that it all went wrong. After three years, I... I must not have been careful enough, because this summer I realized I was... carrying James’s baby.”

She pronounced
baby
as if the idea, the very word itself, held all the magic and mystery and joy in the world.

“I denied it for weeks.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “I made up all sorts of excuses not to see him because I didn’t know what would happen. Then I went to Mama—and she was furious. She told me I should just get rid of it, go to a woman she knew who would ‘help’ me. But I pushed her away when she grabbed my arm.” Annie rubbed her bicep as if it were still bruised. “I couldn’t do that to my baby, to James’s baby. So I left. And I went to the only other person I could turn to.”

“James.” Lucas steeled himself, half dreading this, half needing to hear the rest of it. All of it.

“It was raining that day.” She closed her eyes. “I was soaked through and covered in mud by the time I reached his house. I’d never been there before, but I was just so scared. I just kept thinking that it was happening all over again—that my child was going to grow up exactly like I did, poor and hungry and afraid all the time, with no father. No future.”

She was breathing hard, started talking more quickly. “I didn’t want to make trouble or cause a scene with his family. I slipped into his study, through the garden doors. He’d just gotten home from his office and he was putting something in the safe. He barely said two words before I just blurted it out. I told him I was pregnant.”

A shudder went through her. “He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then he... then he told me it was over. He said he’d had time to think while we were apart, and his children were getting older, and the last thing he wanted”—tears shone in her eyes and she looked up at the ceiling—“was to have any bastards running around the streets of St. Charles. He tossed his pocket money on the desk. Fifty dollars and a few coins. He told me that should be enough to get me a ticket out of town.”

No. By God, that wasn’t possible
. Lucas felt every muscle in his body clench tight. He couldn’t believe it, wouldn’t believe his brother could be that cold. Not to anyone—especially not to a woman who had shared his bed for three years. A woman who was carrying his child.

“I-I could
see
sacks of cash in his safe,” she whispered, tears sliding down her cheeks, “and all he gave me was his pocket change. That was all I meant to him, all I was worth.”

“And when did you decide to pick up a gun?”

His sharp tone brought her gaze back to his. “There was a gun on the desk, next to his briefcase and the other things he’d brought home from the office. It was sitting right next to the fifty dollars. I-I was in a daze, and I was reaching for the money. I was going to just take it and leave. And then my hand was on the gun instead—”

“Why? Because you decided you wanted one of those bags of cash from the safe, too?”

“No,” she retorted hotly. “I wasn’t
thinking
. I wasn’t thinking of anything except the pictures in my head—pictures of my child going through everything
I
went through growing up, and me ending up just like Mama... and for a second, as I was reaching for that money, it just seemed like it might be better if... if...”

“If you picked up the gun and demanded more than fifty dollars?”

“If I ended it all,” she said in an emotionless voice.

Lucas stared at her, his jaw going slack with shock.

She had been thinking of shooting
herself
?

“But when I picked it up...” A sob tore from her and she covered her eyes with one hand. “James reached across the desk and tried to grab it from me. And it went off. It just went off.”

Lucas turned away, bracing one arm against the wall, the stone rough and cold beneath his palm. Part of him still couldn’t believe it. Didn’t want to believe any of it.

“It all happened so fast,” she said brokenly. “There was a sound like an explosion, and he fell backward. The servants came running. They were pounding on the door. I
tried
to help him, but it was too late. He was already... he was already gone.”

Her voice dissolved in tears for a moment. “I was kneeling over him, covered in his blood. And they were pounding on the door and I
knew
what it would look like. Nobody in St. Charles would believe that it was an accident. I was his mistress. The girl from the boardinghouse down by the river. The whore’s daughter—”

“So you ran.”

She nodded. “I looked up and saw those sacks of money in the open safe—and all I could think about was my baby, giving my child what I never had. A home, a future. So I took one. I took it and ran. I didn’t even know how much was in it until later.”

She seemed spent.

Lucas couldn’t stand to watch her cry, but he couldn’t make himself turn away from her again.

“I didn’t mean to kill him.” Her voice was less than a whisper. “He was the only person in my life who was kind to me.” She sank forward, her head in her hands. “I didn’t know anything about having a baby,” she sobbed. “Mama only told me how
not
to have them. I didn’t know what I was risking when I got on that stagecoach. I didn’t want to lose my child,” she choked out, “like I lost everyone else.”

She buried her face in her palms and sobbed.

Lucas walked over before he was even aware of it, reached out to her before he could stop himself. Touched her arm.

She turned with a start, looking up into his face.

And he saw no deception in her eyes, only pain and loss.

“I didn’t mean to do it,” she said, her voice edged with anguish. “I only went to him that day because I was just so scared and... and alone... I wanted... I needed...”

He drew her into his arms.

She stiffened immediately.

“Shh,” he whispered, his voice strained as he tried to convey that he wasn’t coming to her out of vengeance, or anger. “Shh.”

He just held her, somehow knowing instinctively what she had wanted from James that rainy afternoon and never got.

Strength and comfort and reassurance. She began to cry into his shirt.

And he felt burned by each salty tear.

A
nnie couldn’t stop crying as he held her in his arms, enfolded so securely against his broad chest. Her cheek rested against the rough fabric of his shirt and she let out all the pain that had been tearing at her heart, surrendering all of it to the warmth of his embrace, to his gentleness, to him.

And as the anguish poured out of her, a new emotion slowly filled her like a glimmer of light breaking through the darkness. Of all the ways Lucas could’ve reacted to what she’d told him, this was the last she had expected. But he understood.
He understood
.

Never had she believed he might be capable of such tenderness and caring—for
her
of all people. But he was a man like no other she had ever known. Fierce and strong, gentle and protective. A tough-as-iron hero... who also had a heart.

When she finally managed to get her tears under control and pull away from him, he let her go as carefully as he had taken her into his arms. As if she might shatter.

And a long, awkward silence fell between them.

They just stood there, staring at each other as if they’d never met before.

His eyes were dark, his expression strained. Unable to find words, she reached up, her fingertips brushing his stubbled cheek. And he cupped her face in one broad, callused hand, his thumb whisking away her tears—just like he had last night. So gently, so careful of her.

Neither of them said a word. He just drew her close, and she leaned into him, trembling with emotion as his mouth covered hers.

Annie’s lashes lowered and she met his kiss with a sigh of longing. His lips molded to hers and she moved closer, needing his comfort, his strength. Needing
him
. His arms came around her, his hands tangling in her hair. She breathed in and he filled her senses with heat, and hunger, and the spicy, masculine taste of him.

His tongue parted her lips, his kiss filled with passion that sparked an answering ache deep inside her. A wave of unsettling heat poured through her. Her body melted against his.

Never had she been kissed the way Lucas kissed her—with such power and possessiveness. As if he were binding their souls together. As if there were no more yesterdays and no tomorrows... no one but the two of them in all the world. Her hands settled on his shoulders, slid around his back to draw him in tight, her fingers grasping his shirt.

When he finally lifted his head, her lips felt swollen, bruised—and her whole body felt burned. The sound of their breathing made harsh noise in the darkness.

He buried his face in her hair. “Annie.”

The sound of her name on his lips brought fresh tears to her eyes. She didn’t let him go. “Lucas.” Her voice came out as a husky whisper.

Suddenly, his hands were fumbling with the buttons on her dress and her fingers were tugging at his shirt. Warm, soft kisses brushed along her throat, her bared shoulder. She tangled her fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. He was all lean muscle and molten gold in the lantern light, his arms rippling and hard, his flat chest covered with a mat of crisp, black hair that narrowed over his ribs and disappeared into the waistband of his trousers.

With a low groan, he bent and swept her into his arms, picking her up and carrying her toward the bed.

Her thoughts had scattered like snowflakes blown by the wind outside their shelter. But there were no questions, no hesitation in her heart. This was what she wanted.
He was what she wanted.

The quilt was soft beneath her as he slid her dress off. Annie moaned at the touch of the cabin’s chilly air against her skin. He stretched out beside her, kissing her neck, her shoulder—and then his mouth covered her breast through the thin fabric of her camisole, drawing her into velvety, liquid heat. Bright sparks of sensation shot through her with an intensity that stole her breath. His fingers impatiently pushed the damp fabric aside, baring her to his kisses and she gasped. He teased one sensitive peak and then the other with his lips, his tongue. She arched beneath him, offering more of herself, all of herself. His hand slipped beneath the waist of her pantalettes.

Her cry of pleasure was lost beneath his groan as he stroked and explored her, finding her wetness. She abandoned herself to the heat racing through her, to the bold intimacy of his touch. His thumb pressed against the sensitive nub hidden within her curls, brushing over it with a touch that was feather-light and demanding by turns.

She was panting for breath when his mouth covered hers again in a ravishing kiss. His hunger for her stirred a fierce response low in her belly, a desire unlike any she had ever known. He tugged her pantalettes down over her hips, she unfastened the waistband of his trousers, and they kicked off the last of their clothes. He lowered himself over her, balancing his weight on his forearms, covering her with his lean, muscled body.

He pressed his hips against her and she gasped at the size and hardness of him. He slid one arm beneath her shoulders, parted her thighs with his other hand.

And then she felt the blunt tip of his arousal at her feminine core. Felt him entering her in a deep, slow thrust. Her eyes opened wide, her head tipping back. Their voices blended in a low sound of pleasure as he joined the two of them as one.

She felt sweet pressure and hot fullness, her body stretching to sheath his rigid length, her every muscle strung tight. Hundreds of sparks whirled together, gathering at the very center of her being. He shuddered, kissing her cheek, her shoulder.

“
Lucas
.” It was a breathless sigh, a whisper of welcome and astonishment and passionate need.

And then she was beyond speaking, beyond hearing. His mouth sealed hers in a deep, hot mating of lips and tongues and breath. All she could do was
feel
as he withdrew and thrust forward, deeper, filling her completely. She shut her eyes, giving herself to him, to the emotions in her heart, to the fiery waves of sensation that built as he moved inside her. She lifted her hips to meet his strokes, again and again, gripped his shoulders, his hair, grasped handfuls of the covers beneath her as he took her hard and fast.

The sparks of pleasure whirled tight, turning to flames that raced through her. Never had she felt like this, wild and reckless in a way she had never even imagined. His rhythm became more powerful. She wrapped her legs around his hips, holding him embedded deep inside her... just...
there
.

Suddenly the bright flames of sensation all flared together and a rush of ecstasy cascaded through her, shocking and fierce. Her cry of release filled the darkness, her body arching like a bow against his. She was soaring through the stars, bathed by white-hot fire. A hoarse shout tore from him an instant later and she felt him tense, felt the rush of liquid heat as he spilled himself inside her.

Then his muscles went slack, his weight pressing her down into the mattress, his body still joined to hers.

He was trembling. Actually trembling. Annie gave in to the impulse to wrap her arms around him and hold him. The sound of their harsh breathing made the only noise in the stillness, and the heat of their bodies seemed like the only warmth. After a long moment, he withdrew and settled beside her, his face buried in her hair.

And neither of them said a word.

~ ~ ~

Lucas opened his eyes in the darkness, blinking in the chilly air, realizing he had fallen asleep. He wasn’t sure how many hours had passed. No light penetrated the dugout, only a bitter wind that rattled the stovepipe and howled past the door.

The lantern had burned out, and so had the embers of the fire, the stove a few feet away no longer giving off the least bit of heat.

Annie lay curled up against him like a kitten. So soft, so delicate.

So trusting.

He opened his eyes wider. Though he couldn’t see her in the darkness, he could feel every sweet, tantalizing inch of her. From the tendrils of her hair tickling his jaw, to her breath on his bare chest... to one slim, naked leg resting against his. Her hands were folded in front of her and the curve of her shoulder was tucked beneath his arm. Even in sleep, he had drawn her close.

For a moment, he just lay there, breathing hard, fully awake now.

What the hell had he done?

Remorse and regret sliced through him like a double-edged blade. She had been vulnerable and in need of comfort and he had taken advantage of her. Taken her to bed. He couldn’t blame it on the effects of the bullet that had creased his skull. He might not have been at his physical best—but his mind hadn’t been muddled. He had known what he wanted. Needed.

And it seemed not even a bullet from a .44 had been enough to stop him.

Annie shifted restlessly, one of her hands brushing his ribs, one breast now pillowed against the muscles of his chest. He inhaled a breath between his gritted teeth, his whole body suddenly taut, sexual heat flooding his nerve endings. The speed and intensity of his reaction to her dragged a groan from his throat.

He ordered himself to release her, forced himself to let her go. Slowly, he withdrew his arm from around her and she shifted again, away from him, onto her back with a little sigh. He levered himself up on one elbow. Now he could go. Could leave the bed without waking her.

Or he could lower his head and kiss her, find her with his mouth in the darkness. Make it better this time, slow and gentle. Make it perfect for her. Start at the slender curve of her throat and kiss his way down every lush inch of her body...

Lucas shoved himself away and got out of bed, grabbed his trousers from the floor, pulled them on. The only thing to do was get out of here. Leave. Go outside into the frigid weather. Pray to God that the snow would be enough to freeze the fire and hunger from his blood.

But in some part of his brain, he knew that even a blizzard wouldn’t help, that all the ice and sleet the Rocky Mountains could throw at him wouldn’t help. From the start,
nothing
had been able to end this overpowering... attraction he had to Annie Sutton. He had tried distance, logic, seeking out another woman. But for the first time in his life, it wasn’t just any woman he wanted.

It was one woman.

This woman.

Annie.

He grabbed his shirt from where it had fallen, hunted for his boots. His gun belt made metallic noise as he buckled it on. For one moment—one heedless, selfish moment—he had forgotten everything else, forgotten the world beyond this small shelter. But he couldn’t allow himself to forget. Didn’t
want
to forget.

Didn’t want any of the unfamiliar emotions that had stolen through him when Annie responded to his kiss, whispered his name. Gave herself to him. Shattered in his arms.

All he was willing to feel for her was desire, raw and physical and simple. That was all he wanted between them.

But if there were nothing but lust between them, he wouldn’t feel like hell now.

He headed for the door, grabbing his coat as he yanked it open. Outside, he pulled it shut behind him and went still for a moment, wincing, one hand braced against the rough wood—and not just because of the sudden, shocking brightness of the afternoon sun, or the bite of the snow against his face, or the pain stabbing through his temples.

What the hell had he
done
?

He thought of his sisters, and James’s widow Olivia, and young Peter and Cordelia. How would they feel, if they knew that Lucas had developed this powerful attraction to James’s mistress? That he had taken her to
bed
.

He pictured all of them staring at him, their eyes filled with shock and betrayal.

Lucas straightened and moved away from the dugout, walking blindly into the falling snow, his coat flapping behind him in the wind. Instead of satisfying his desire for Annie, making love to her only left him feeling worse than before.

Hadn’t he stood in Fairfax’s saloon in Eminence not two days ago, telling Morgan O’Donnell that any man who just helped himself to a girl’s favors and then tossed her aside wasn’t worth a bucket of warm spit?

So what did that make him worth this afternoon?

Lucas kept walking, not liking the answer. His mouth hardened into a scowl. He had never had much charm or tact around women—but he had sunk to a new low these past couple of weeks. Whenever he was with Annie, he acted like someone he didn’t even know: hotheaded, irrational, impulsive.

And he seemed to conveniently keep forgetting that she was his prisoner. That she was in his custody. That he was supposed to keep his hands to himself—and it didn’t
matter
what he felt.

It was his duty to take her back to Missouri and hand her over for trial.

Even if he believed she was telling the truth.

He almost wished he didn’t. For the simple reason that he didn’t want to believe that his brother had acted like a heartless bastard toward a woman carrying his child. Didn’t want to accept that James wasn’t the good, kind, generous man Lucas had always thought him to be.

There was also the question of what had happened to the gun. The constables had never found it. So if she hadn’t taken it when she ran, where was it?