Audrey and the Maverick (19 page)

Audrey watched him walk away. She wrapped her arms about herself, small comfort that it was. Holding him was like holding an angry bear: impossible to do. She more than wanted him; she loved him. And she had only this summer to show him that he loved her too.

The door opened as Bertie came out with the coffee tray. “Where did they go?”

Audrey shook her head, venturing a look at her new friend.

“Did he hurt you?” she asked as she set the tray down.

A breath left Audrey’s chest, more sob than exhalation. “He left. How is it that I feel what I do and he feels nothing?”

“Honey, I seen him look at you. Trust me, it ain’t ‘nothing’ that he’s feeling.”

“What do I do?”

Bertie studied Audrey, her lips pursed, her brow furrowed. “You’re in love with him?” Audrey nodded. “Even though you know he’s not the staying kind?”

“I know.” Audrey nodded again. “I do know that. I don’t care.”

“Then keep doing what you’re doing. You will get to him.” She grinned at Audrey. “I bet he’s close to breaking.”

Audrey was unable to settle down that evening. She went to the library and read for a bit, hoping Julian would return, but her attention kept wandering from the travelogue in front of her. Deciding a soak in the tub might calm her nerves enough to let her sleep, she went to the washroom to heat some water.

When it was ready, she selected rose oil from among the fine soaps, lotions, and other luxuries Julian purchased at Jim’s store and poured a few drops into the tub. She sank into the warm water. Slowly her tension seeped away in the quiet of the candlelit room. She washed her hair and scrubbed her body, then lingered until the water began to cool. Reluctantly, she left the tub. After setting the room back to rights, she headed for her bedroom.

She had just reached the upper landing on the stairs when the front door opened and closed, admitting McCaid. She had not meant to see him again tonight, but caught halfway between him and her room, she had no chance of escaping his notice.

He crossed the entranceway to extinguish the lamp on the table when he looked up and saw her. He paused, then doused the lamp. He slowly came up the steps, out of the darkness into the dim ring of light from the upper hallway. Audrey wondered if he was drunk. She didn’t think he was; his steps were steady, his gaze unwavering. She became intensely aware that only the meager covering of her wrap stood between her and Julian’s heated gaze.

A few steps from her, he leaned forward and opened the robe at her ankles. Her feet were bare. Cool air whispered around her lower leg. He took another step, his hand rising against the naked skin of her calf. Another step, his hand was behind her knee. A ragged breath whispered past her lips. The final step between brought his hand up the back of her thigh to cup her buttock, baring one entire leg, pale in the shadowy light of the stairway.

Audrey took hold of the banister.

Julian lifted his other hand and touched his knuckles to her neck. She was having a difficult time forming a coherent thought while his hand stroked her bottom.

He leaned down and kissed the base of her throat. “Have you changed your mind?” His voice was hoarse.

She shook her head. He cursed. He took hold of her face, staring down into her eyes. “I am no tame campfire to warm your hands at, Audrey. I am a raging forest fire. I burn for you. I will consume you.”

Audrey put her hands to his face, holding him as he held her. “I know what you are, Julian. I am not afraid.”

And then his lips took hers, open and hungry. He bent and lifted her into his arms, the kiss unbroken as he carried her up the final steps to her room. He quietly pushed the door closed with his boot, then set her on her feet. Backing her up against the wall, he pinned her against the cold plaster.

“Don’t play games with me,” Julian growled. “I am not stopping. I cannot stop, do you understand?” Blood pooled in his groin, throbbing. This was a mistake. He shouldn’t do this to her. His body wasn’t listening. His hips rocked against her. She squirmed—to get away, he thought. When he pulled back to give her room to leave, her robe opened to her waist, revealing upthrust breasts, nipples puckered. His cock grew harder. He cursed. She dragged her hands over those mounds, to retrieve the cover of her robe, he assumed, but she cupped herself and made no move to leave. Watching her was agony—he couldn’t do it without shaming himself. He grabbed her hands and held them against the wall, holding them by her wrists on either side of her face as he dragged a calming breath into his lungs. This position was another mistake. It only lifted her breasts closer to him.

“Ah, God, Audrey,” he growled against her temple, leaning forward and breathing in her scent. Roses. She’d used the oil he bought in town.

“I cannot think a thought without you in it. I crave the sound of your voice, the smell of your skin.” His hips rocked against her again, but he was too tall. He only felt the soft flesh of her stomach. He wedged a thigh between her legs, spreading them, making her ride his thigh. He moved his leg to put pressure on the sensitive flesh at the apex of her legs. He slowly drew his hands away from her wrists, down her arms to her chest, closing them on the hot, pale flesh of her breasts. Her nipples burned his palms. He ached to taste her. His breathing became as shallow as hers. He took her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, gently rolling them back and forth even as his leg pressed her feminine flesh. He looked into her eyes and saw they had gone black with passion.

“Audrey, tell me to leave. Tell me to go right now.” She shook her head. He felt her dig her hands into his hair, felt her pull him toward her. He opened his mouth, devouring her lips. His hands moved up her chest, her neck, to cradle her jaw, holding her for his possession. She yielded beneath him, surrendering, opening to the hungry stroke of his tongue. Her eyes were not closed, and Julian stared into their pale depths as he shoved his tongue into her mouth, seeking and finding her tongue. Oh, the exquisite torture, the feel of her soft, hot mouth tightening on his tongue as she suckled him. He groaned against her mouth, his hips rocking of their own volition.

He broke the kiss to run his lips down her throat. And when he bent to her breasts, her robe fell away completely, revealing her pale legs spread over his denim-clad thigh. He rubbed against her sensitive flesh and her back arched. He drew his hand down her chest, over her breast, down her waist, over her hip to her thigh. He massaged the hard muscles of her leg, then slowly moved upward, inward, moving his hand to the dark intimate curls hiding her secret flesh.

Audrey felt him touch that part of her that sent all conscious thought flying. The pad of his thumb rubbed her in a sweet, soft circle. He was watching her, breathing with her, his mouth open. Something was happening to her. She couldn’t stand on her own and his leg wasn’t enough support. She shook her head. She grabbed on to his shoulders. Her hips bucked against his hand.

“Ah, Christ,” he groaned. He pulled his leg away and Audrey moaned a protest. He went to his knees in front of her. He separated the folds of her heated flesh, and then his mouth was there, his breath hot on her inner skin. And his tongue, dear God, his tongue licked and stroked, wet and smooth with molten heat. His head was dark against her skin. He looked up at her, watching her with his big, coffee-brown eyes, his nose buried in her dusky curls. Hot liquid desire unfurled in her belly like a snake unwinding. Her hands pressed against the wall behind her. She could find no purchase, nothing to hold on to. She closed her eyes, unable to bear watching her hips grind against his mouth.

And then he pulled away, kissing her as he bent and lifted her into his arms. His tongue possessed her mouth. Her breasts were pressed against the warm leather of his vest, the texture exquisite against her sensitive nipples. He set her on the bed and removed his boots. His vest quickly followed. He shrugged out of his suspenders, unbuttoned his shirt, then ripped it over his head. He unfastened his pants and pulled them and his underdrawers down over his lean hips.

Audrey stared at the upthrusting male part of him. He was a large man, and so it stood to reason that that part of him would be large as well, but his was enormous. He kicked free of his pants and knelt on the bed, spreading her legs. He moved down over her, cradling the hard length of his manhood on top of the sensitized folds of her flesh. He braced his weight on his elbows, his hands cupping her shoulders. His dark hair fell forward, shadowing his eyes. He watched her as he slowly began to move his hips against hers. It felt delicious. Her body knew what to do—her hips began moving against his, against the hard column of his flesh.

He arched over her to suckle a breast. He moved slightly between her thighs, positioning himself at her opening. Audrey’s heart beat hard, a pulsing, drumming beat. He hesitated, watching her, his eyes intense. His nostrils flared. He pushed into her. Just a bit, spreading her. Stretching her.

Julian watched her face, trying to gauge her pleasure or discomfort. She was so goddamned tight. He’d never taken a virgin before, never been with an innocent. The thought that he was her first filled him with an unfathomable joy. This couldn’t be comfortable for her, but she watched him with unrelenting trust. He pushed farther in, then slowly withdrew, all the way out, before pushing forward again. He hadn’t gone in very far, but he was blocked. He couldn’t go in any deeper; her virgin’s barrier stopped him. He pulled out and pushed in again, wanting her to be at ease with the motion, the sensation, the pressure. He was going to have to break that barrier and had no idea if it would be a minor discomfort to her or a major one.

He pulled out again, pressing his throbbing cock against the bedcover while he kissed his way between her breasts, over her ribs, and down her flat belly. His chin encountered her soft, feminine curls. He moved lower to run his tongue along the inner folds protecting her opening. He mouthed her clitoris, gently suckling her swollen flesh. He put two fingers into her opening. She was wet, ready for him. He continued working her until she writhed against him, until he felt her soft inner walls convulse around his fingers. He moved between her thighs again, entering her, thrusting up to the wall that stopped him before. Now she was bucking against him, absorbing him. He pulled back, then thrust forward, breaking into the hot core of her.

And there he stopped. He could feel the sweat on his skin, see the same sheen on hers. Still she watched him, believing in him, believing in his control. His arms shook with restraint that was quickly fading. He couldn’t stop. He began pumping his cock into her hot channel, loving the feel of her, wanting to feel her release. He touched the center of her desire, working that sensitive nub until he felt her orgasm lift her away, tightening her flesh against him. He shoved himself deep into her, deeper than he ever thought possible. She arched against him, pressing her head into the mattress. He folded his arms under her, hugging her to his chest as he pulled out of her and thrust between their bodies, feeling his ejaculation wet their bellies.

He lifted his weight onto his elbows. His breathing was still ragged. Warily, he watched her. He had just been a ravening beast, taking her with a violence that shocked even himself. And he could feel himself hardening against her once again. She smiled at him as her small hands moved up his arms to cup his face. She pulled him to her, chin to chin, nose to nose, lips to lips, and kissed him with a smile on her mouth.

Julian felt something twist in his chest. He did not love her. He could not love her. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing his heart was ruled by his mind. He rolled off her body and off the bed. He walked naked to the bowl and pitcher and had just dampened a cloth to clean his seed off them when he heard her gasp.

He silently cursed.

He’d forgotten about his back. He stood immobile, locked in place. He heard her get off the bed and pad over to stand behind him. He held himself rigid, waiting for her questions, waiting for her revulsion when she heard his answers. The time to reveal himself would have been long before what had just happened between them, when she still had a choice about lying with him.

He felt her warm hands on his back, whispering over his numb scars that he knew looked like hell. He had seen them once as he stood in front of a mirror and studied them with a hand mirror. Pink and puckered, even then, even years after he’d been whipped.

Her hands stilled, and he felt her face pressed against his back as she breathed against his wrecked skin. His shoulders slumped as he exhaled. He turned and faced her. There was sorrow in her eyes. Not revulsion. Not morbid interest. She didn’t speak. Nor did he. He pulled her into his arms, feeling a little less damaged.

It was the end of the next day before Audrey could speak privately with Julian. Supper was over. The girls were helping Bertie wash up. The boys were seeing to their evening rounds of chores. Audrey stood inside several lines of sheets, taking the linens down. A gentle breeze made the heavy lines sway. When she looked up, Julian was there, dark among the white sheets. Her breath caught, then started up again—too rapidly. His head was bare. His brown hair was loose, almost touching his collar; she should give him a haircut. He wore his leather vest over a beige shirt. His denims were faded over his thighs from hard use.

He must be headed for the shower, for a towel was draped over one shoulder. She knew he liked to bathe at this time of day, when his work was done and the water was warm. He stopped only when he was a foot from her. “Hi.”

Audrey dropped a folded sheet into her basket. Her mind flashed through images of their night together, of him moving over her, loving her.

“Hi.” She looked up at him. His eyes were hypnotic, heated. He touched his fingertips to her cheek. Audrey took hold of his wrist, pulling his hand to her lips. She shut her eyes and kissed his palm. And then she was in his arms, a hand in her hair as he braced her for his kiss. She wrapped her arms about his neck. She lifted her body against his, welcomed his tongue into her mouth. When the kiss ended, his lips brushed her cheek, her brow, her temple. He drew her close in a tight embrace. Audrey pressed her face into his chest, feeling his heart hammering against her face until he leaned back to look at her.

“Did I hurt you last night, Audrey? Were you well today?” He swept a lock of her hair behind an ear.

Audrey looked up into his brown eyes, wondering how to answer him. Last night he’d completed her body. And he’d carved a canyon in her soul. She shook her head. “Once was not enough, Julian.”

A smile slowly made its way across his mouth. “We can remedy that.”

Julian left his room and walked to Audrey’s open balcony door. She stood in a shaft of bright moonlight, her hands clasped in front of her, a long, white cotton nightgown covering her from head to foot, much like the one she’d worn the night he’d first kissed her. Julian entered her room. He moved forward from the shadows so that he wouldn’t block what little light there was. The moonlight made her golden brown hair look silvery, her light green eyes even paler. She was ethereal. He reached a hand to her face, fearful some magic had turned her to marble.

She was warm and velvety soft beneath his touch. He ran the backs of his fingers down her neck, indulging his senses in the luxury of the caress. Her hands moved to his chest. His belly contracted at her light stroke. He stood unmoving beneath her questing hands, watching her learn the feel of him. Her hands moved down from his shoulders, her palms sweeping over his nipples.

Anticipating their encounter, he’d been uncomfortably hard before he even entered her room. Standing still beneath her soft strokes was almost more than he could bear. She leaned in and buried her face in the dark hairs of his chest. Julian shut his eyes and gritted his teeth.

He could withstand this. He was man enough. Her mouth closed on one of his nipples. A jolt of desire shot through his loins. He dug his hands into her unbound hair, gripping her head, holding her against himself, then pulling away to take her lips with his own. Her mouth opened against his, offering him her tongue. God, he wanted her. He thrust into her mouth, hungry. Insatiable.

His control was spinning away from him.

He’d hoped tonight would be a slow discovery of each other. He broke away from her. She moaned a protest. He smiled. His breathing was labored, his heart hammering. His hands shook as he unfastened the buttons of her nightgown. He spread the material open, watching her reaction as he touched the soft skin of her chest, trailing his fingers down to the valley between her breasts and lower until they reached the end of the nightgown’s opening.

He pushed the nightgown over her shoulders, trapping her arms against her sides as he bared her breasts. Her breathing was as labored as his. By the light of the moon, he could see the skin of her neck and upper chest was darker than that of her breasts. Sun kissed. He ran his knuckles down from her collarbone to the tops of her breasts, then opened his hands and cupped their heavy weight. Her lips parted on a sharp intake of air. He bent and lifted a mound to his mouth, using his tongue and lips to excite her nipple.

“Julian—”

“Hmmm?” he groaned against her skin.

“Please let me hold you.”

He kissed his way up to her neck, then pushed her nightgown all the way off her body, letting it drop in a pool at her feet. He stepped back, looking at her, impatient to end this torment. She reached between their bodies and touched a hand to the bulge in his pants. His dick tightened another notch. He trapped her hand against himself. “Do you see what you do to me? I have only to look at you and I’m like this.”

He unfastened his pants and pushed them and his drawers off his hips, releasing his cock. Her slim hands encircled him, running up the hard length of his arousal. The sensation was exquisite. He pulled her hands away from him, bringing them up to circle his neck as he wrapped his arms around her. She felt fragile in his arms. He ran a hand down her back, feeling the indentation of her waist, the curve of her hip. He caressed the soft flesh of her buttock. Bringing his hand around to the front of her thigh, he touched the curls at the juncture of her thighs. He slipped his fingers into the folds of her womanhood, finding the spot he searched for, caressing her. When her arms tightened around his neck, he lifted her and took her to the bed. Unable to wait longer, he knelt between her legs and eased himself into her.

Audrey felt him enter her, stretch her. He was holding himself back. She wanted more of him. She pushed up against him, impaling herself. He withdrew, slowly, slowly, pulling the long length of him from her only to slip back in. Her soul knew the rhythm. He stretched out over her, bracing his weight on his elbows as he pumped into her. The pleasure was intense. It exploded within her. She bucked beneath him. She cried out her ecstasy against his mouth. Before the passion of the moment left her, he pulled free of her, shooting his hot seed upon her belly.

Tonight she was ready for this. She handed him a small cloth and felt him wipe his secretion from her stomach. He set the cloth aside and pulled her into his arms. Audrey snuggled closer, threading her leg between his, her arm around his side. Her face against his chest, she felt more than heard the strong beat of his heart. She wished this would never end. She wished she had the right to lie in his arms every night and wake there every morning.

Maddie had given her bad advice, she realized. No man could compare to Julian. Good enough would never be enough now.

Audrey swept the back porch, absently thinking about Julian and regretting that it was only the afternoon yet—she had hours left to go before their time together that night. She’d never been so happy as in the last couple of weeks. There was a difference in Julian too. He was more relaxed around the children. He’d crated up the inappropriate books from the library and stored them in his den. But since that left only dry histories and travelogues, he let the kids corral him into telling them bedtime stories. They had been enjoying a continuing series of stories he made up about the adventures of a brother and sister sadly orphaned during the war. He added wonderful twists and startling events in the saga, keeping the children captivated.

The porch step creaked, and Audrey looked up to see the object of her daydreams coming toward her. She smiled at him, but her words of welcome died on her lips as she caught the look in his eyes.

“Julian, what is it?” She set the broom aside and reached for him, frightened.

“I have news from town. Bad news, I’m afraid.” He studied her face. “Your friend Leah was attacked. She’s all right—Jace got there in time. But he was forced to marry her, said it was the only way he could protect her from the sheriff and his men.”

Audrey’s legs went boneless. She sat heavily in a chair. Julian crouched in front of her, holding her hands. “This is not good news,” she said. “Are you sure she’s okay?”

“His note said she was.”

“I have to go see her!”

“No. You’re not going to town. You’ll just put yourself and Leah and Jace in danger.”

“Julian, they are not a match. She hates violence. And she’s afraid of men.”

He nodded. “He said it was a marriage in name only and only until he’s run the sheriff and his gang out of town. She’s rather stubborn, like someone else I know. She wouldn’t come out here.”

Audrey frowned. “I can’t understand this.”

“Write her a letter. We’ll send it with the next wagon that goes in for supplies. Ask her to come out. Maybe if you invite her, she’ll change her mind.”

Audrey considered Leah’s situation as she hung laundry several days later. Julian sent her note into town the next day, but Leah’s return letter did little to alleviate her worry. She said she and Jace had married, temporarily. For now he was living in her home, protecting her.

Julian walked past Audrey’s laundry lines, drawing her back to the present. He moved at a fast pace, leading a slow and reluctant shaggy dog behind him. Curious, she followed him. He skirted the area where the kids were playing. The other children barely noted him, but Dulcie fell into step with him. She had to jog to keep up with him. As Audrey watched, she reached over and touched his arm to slow him down.

“Mr. McCaid, you’re walking too fast for him.” Her willingness to talk to Julian always amazed Audrey. Julian made an irritated face and scooped the white and black furry creature up, barely breaking his stride. The dog wiggled in his arms, disliking being held.

“What’s his name, Mr. McCaid?”

“He has no name.”

“Where are you going with him?”

“Dulcie, this is not a matter for you.”

“Mr. McCaid, what are you doing?” she asked again, her voice deepening, mimicking a tone Audrey sometimes used for ill-behaved children.

Julian paused to look at Dulcie. “He’s a bad sheepdog, honey. He’s no good at confronting coyotes or wolves or mountain lions. He’s afraid of everything. I’ve got no use for him.”

“He can learn.” She put a hand out to touch the mutt’s soft fur.

“No, he can’t. A dog is either brave or he’s not. And this one’s not. I have to put him down.”

“I’m not very brave. You wouldn’t put me down, would you?”

He gave a frustrated sigh, clearly finished with this discussion. “Of course not. You’re a little girl. But this is supposed to be a working dog. If he can’t earn his keep, I don’t want him.”

“I could teach him.”

Julian regarded her, then gave a slow shake of his head. “You would have to learn all kinds of commands, which you would have to speak to him out loud. It’s hard work, too hard for a little girl. Too hard for you.”

“I can do it.”

Julian put the fur ball down, watched him walk over and sniff Dulcie. She knelt down and opened her arms to him. He wagged his cropped tail and nuzzled her face.

“Please, Mr. McCaid, please let me try. You will see. He will be very obedient. And I will be brave enough for the both of us.”

“A pet is a significant responsibility.” Julian folded his arms. “You have to see that he is fed and exercised. Regardless of what the weather is or how tired you are, you have to take care of him every day.”

She nodded. Her eyes were shimmering. The mutt licked her face. “I can do it.”

Julian frowned. “Go ask Audrey. She may not want the beast in the house.”

Dulcie looked over at Audrey, a plea in her eyes. “Audrey? May I have Willie? Mr. McCaid will have to kill him if we don’t save him. Please, Audrey? Please say we can keep him.”

Julian looked over his shoulder at her. Audrey smiled at Dulcie. “‘Willie,’ is it? Yes, I think that’s fine.”

Dulcie’s smile was blinding. It warmed her face and sparkled in her eyes. She hugged the mutt, then came to her feet and squeezed Julian’s hand.

“He may not be a good sheepdog, Mr. McCaid, but he’ll be a good house dog. You’ll see.” Taking the lead rope, she skipped off toward the other children, who crowded around her and Willie.

Audrey closed the distance between them. “She talks to you so easily. It’s good to hear her speak.”

“It is.”

“You weren’t really going to put him down, were you?” Audrey asked, watching him earnestly.

Julian made a face as he shrugged. “She lives too much in her head.” He watched the children. “He’s one of my smarter dogs. I thought he could be put to better use guarding this flock than the four-legged one he was set to.”

Audrey took hold of his folded arms and stretched up on tippytoes to kiss his cheek. “You are the kindest man I’ve ever known.”