Heaven Sent (17 page)
"Oh, my Hannah," he said, his voice slurred. "Are you an angel of mercy or a hot-blooded wench come to tempt me into your flame?"
The undeniable odor of drunkenness assailed Hannah's nostrils and made her both angry and afraid. She was angry that he had left on business and had obviously decided to get himself drunk instead. And she was frightened also. She had seen men drunk on the street in Ingalls, but she had never actually been close to one. She wasn't sure what to expect. She'd read tracts from the Temperance Society where women described in detail how their drunken husbands would rage at them and beat them.
She decided it was best to treat him as she would a wild animal. Show no fear and take charge of the situation.
"You are drunk."
Henry Lee's smile deepened. "That I am, Miss Hannah, a drunker man I have never seen. Well, maybe I have, but I can't seem to remember it right now."
Because he didn't seem angry or vicious, Hannah relaxed somewhat and took courage.
"Do you need me to help you up? You seem to have fallen."
"Damn furniture, ought to have enough sense to get out of the way, that's what I think," he replied.
"Let me help you up." She moved her arms under his shoulders to lift him, but to her surprise he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
"I'm not so sure I want to get up. This seems like a pretty good position to me." He pressed her delicious bosom against his chest, feeling the hard tips of her nipples like twin peaks of fire, searing his flesh.
Frightened by his sudden movement, Hannah tried to pull back; instead she found herself held firmly against him. The closeness of his body was having the same embarrassing effect she had suffered the other night, and she knew she must stop this before he became disgusted with her again.
"Let me go, Henry Lee, I want to get up," she demanded.
"In a minute," he replied lazily. "I just want to feel you against me for a minute. Just want to share a little heat." His mouth wandered to the throat he found so tempting. "I just want a little taste of what it would be like to husband you."
When his lips made contact with the sensitive flesh beneath her ear, a sharp cry escaped from her lips. It was happening again, he was touching her and making her feel all liquid and molten inside. His mouth was firm and insistent against her skin, and blazed a path from her neck to her lips.
His kiss was not gentle, but hot and demanding. With a gentle sucking pressure on her mouth he forced it open and then his tongue was inside, exploring the depths of that hot cavern, as if to show her how he would like to explore another.
His tongue so shocked Hannah, that she squirmed in fright. Her squirm only pressed her more closely against him, and in answer he moved slightly, pulling her down full length on top of him. With a groan he slid his hand down her back to cup her much admired bottom.
He pressed her against his rock solid erection and the feeling it evoked in Hannah took her breath away. She was quickly losing touch with reality and could no longer think about what she should be doing, getting away. Instead she found herself doing what she wanted to be doing, kissing him back.
Her lips sought his with the same hunger he had felt and experimentally she pushed her own tongue into his mouth. The surge of fire that action brought to her body caused her to squirm toward him again. Not to get away but to get as close as she possibly could.
As he pressed her bottom firmly down, matching her hot aching pit with his correspondingly heated member, Hannah could not stifle the cry of pleasure that blended in their mouths. Her breasts seemed to swell and burn and she sought his hand to comfort them.
When she brought his hand to her breast and pressed it against her, Henry Lee shuddered at his lack of control. Groaning, he quickly rolled her over on her back. Spreading her legs with his, he was only restricted by the tangle of her nightgown. His mouth left hers and in a chain of fiery kisses he headed determinedly to the breast she had so generously offered.
Freed of the glorious wonder of his mouth on hers, Hannah began to hear strange whimpers of pleasure that were barely recognizable as her own. As Henry Lee fastened his wonderful mouth on the aching peak of her breast, she cried out in passion and confusion.
"Oh, Henry Lee, my God! What are you doing to me!" Arching her back to give him more access, she pressed her womanhood more firmly against the long length of his manhood. "Just don't stop!" she begged, "please, don't ever stop."
Her hot pleading fired Henry Lee beyond tenderness as a red haze of lust filled his eyes. He could no longer bear the thin sheath of cotton between his mouth and her breast. Grabbing the modest cotton gown at the neck, he ripped it open, laying Hannah bare to his gaze.
The jerk of the resistant material and the wild sound of it tearing its way to her nakedness was deafeningly loud, drowning out the moans and breathing of a moment before.
Their eyes met as if they were just realizing what was happening. In Henry Lee's, Hannah saw a strength, a drive, that she didn't understand or know. In Hannah's, Henry Lee saw passion mixed with confusion and fear. In that instant the confusion and fear seemed to overtake the passion and to blot it out completely.
His eyes dropped to the view he had ripped her gown open to see. Her beautiful breasts lay bare, heaving with her labored breathing, and damp from the attention he had lavished upon them. She flushed with embarrassment and he realized that in his drunken lust he had treated her roughly, like a common tramp, and she had refused him nothing.
Cold-sober now, Henry Lee pulled the torn remnants of her gown together to cover her.
"Hannah," his voice was a hoarse whisper, "have I hurt you?"
"No," she answered a little shakily, not quite able to look him in the eye, "I don't think so."
He rolled off her and sat up. She too sat, crossing her arms against her torn bodice. As their breathing returned to normal, they both stared straight ahead not daring to look at each other.
"Hannah," he said finally, "as you said yourself, I'm drunk. I don't usually drink and I swear I won't again. I would never do anything to hurt you. I hope you know that."
"It didn't hurt exactly," Hannah told him, trying to understand just exactly what she was feeling.
He looked at her quickly, but she could not meet his glance.
"I want to have you as my wife, Hannah. I want you to take my body, like you've taken my name. But I want you in my bed and willing, not on the floor where I've dragged you."
Henry Lee ran a distracted hand through his hair as if trying to reason out the unreasonable. He never lost control with women; he always knew what he was doing. Twice now he had lost his head with his new wife and he couldn't understand it. He made a rational decision about their future together. He needed to stick to that arrangement and not allow the crazy heat of passion that she seemed to generate in him to threaten their potential for happiness.
"Hannah, we've got a lot of things going against us. If we are going to have any kind of marriage at all, we're going to have to give ourselves the best chance possible."
He hesitated, trying to think of the right words. She was so vulnerable now, he didn't want to hurt her, but he had to say it outright so that she would understand.
"I think we should wait to share our marriage bed until the reason for our marriage is behind us."
Hannah looked at him surprised. He met her gaze and added as gently as possible, "People make mistakes and I don't hold you in contempt for yours, but I think we should wait until it's no longer an issue."
CHAPTER
8
F
lat one by six pine planks stretched between kitchen chairs, barrels and stools, forming makeshift pews in the new
Hannah's whimsical notion of the night before, of having everyone in the church looking at the two of them, was a lot less enjoyable in fact than it had been in fantasy. The whispers had started up the minute they walked in the door. The knowing glances and speculation brought out Hannah's natural shyness and made her long for the days when she was unnoticeable in this congregation.
It didn't help that Henry Lee looked his worst. His face was drawn, lined, and tired, and he seemed to have almost a greenish cast to his complexion. She knew he was ill from the liquor when he refused even coffee for breakfast. Why he had insisted on coming was a mystery.
Hannah had given up on sleep at dawn and had dressed and readied herself for church, planning to attend alone. She looked forward to it. The time alone on the road and the communion with heaven at the church surely would calm her and give her peace. She was very concerned about the events of last night. She was surprised at what she was learning about herself, about the depth of her own passion, and the strange mysteries of her own body. She needed time to sort out what was happening, and she had hoped to have that time this morning.
She encountered her first obstacle when she found that she could not seem to harness the team. Her father had always taken care of the horses, and now she wished she had paid more attention to how it was done. After several unsuccessful attempts, she decided that her only options were to stay at home or to get Henry Lee to help her.
Her first timid knocks on his door produced no results. Ultimately, she was pounding the wood to get his attention. When the door was finally wrenched open, Hannah was momentarily frightened. He looked rumpled, sick, and angry.
"I'm so sorry to wake you, Henry Lee."
He waved her apology away. "You need something, the house on fire, what?"
She steeled herself against his bad temper. "If you could hitch up the buggy for me, I'll be on my way and you can lay back down again."
He ran his hands across his face and through his hair as if trying to rouse himself.
"You should have woke me earlier. Give me a couple of minutes to clean up and dress and I'll hitch up the buggy and take you."
"Oh, you don't have to do that! I can drive myself, I really am very good at handling a team," she protested.
He walked over to his wash table and poured the water from the pitcher into the bowl. Hannah watched as he splashed the cold water over his face and head and managed to get a good bit of it spilt on the washstand and floor.
"I said I would take you, and I will take you."
His firmness brooked no argument.
"Would you like me to fix you some breakfast?" she asked innocently.
He shuddered. "Don't you dare!" he answered. At first his voice seemed angry, but then he was almost laughing. "Did you unload the buggy? You can start that while I get dressed. Just carry the lighter things, I'll get the heavy sacks myself."
Hannah had been delighted to discover the fresh vegetables in the buggy. At least he had not lied to her when he said he was going to