Lakota Renegade (18 page)

An hour later, he admitted defeat and returned to the hotel. The room seemed strangely empty without her there. He sat in the chair by the window and stared into the darkness, remembering the way she had looked sitting in the same chair earlier that evening, the way her eyes had lit up with welcome when he entered the room.

Swamped by remorse for his unkind words, he rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes. He was a fool, he thought, throwing away happiness with both hands because he didn’t think he deserved it, because he had always felt inferior. If his mother hadn’t loved him, why would anyone else? But all the excuses in the world couldn’t justify his cruelty. He’d had no right to say what he’d said, no right at all. And now Jassy was alone in a strange town, and it was all his fault.

And if she wasn’t alone, that was his fault, too.

Plagued by worry and a guilty conscience, he left the hotel and went to the saloon, hoping a drink would help.

It didn’t. Taking the bottle to a table in the back of the room, he sat down and stared out the window, intending to get gloriously, forgetfully, drunk.

He was draining his second glass when he saw Jassy. She was across the street, walking slowly, her head bowed, her attitude one of total despair. And it was all his fault.

He knew then that he was fighting a losing battle. He loved her. Maybe he had loved her since the first time he saw her in the alley back in Harrison.

Grabbing his hat off the back of his chair, he left the saloon and hurried after her.

“Jassy, wait.”

He knew she heard him, but she didn’t stop, and she didn’t turn around. She just kept walking.

“Jassy!” He caught her arm, forcing her to stop. “Jassy, listen to me, please.”

“Leave me alone.”

“Jassy, I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean it. I swear it!”

“I don’t believe you.”

He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced her to look at him.

“I’m sorry, Jassy. I don’t have any excuse for what I said except that…that I was jealous.”

“Jealous? You?”

Creed nodded. “Green with it. I looked at Phillips and I saw everything you deserve. Everything I’ll never be.”

Her lips twitched. “You were jealous? Of Jim Phillips?”

“Yeah.”

She couldn’t help it, she laughed out loud. Imagine, Creed being jealous of Jim Phillips. The idea was ludicrous.

“You wanna tell me what’s so funny?” Creed asked.

“You. You’re funny. Oh, Creed,” she said, laying her hand on his arm. “Don’t you see? Your being jealous of Jim Phillips is like a lion being jealous of a kitten.”

“Women like kittens,” Creed retorted irritably.

“I like lions,” Jassy said, running her hand up his arm.

“Forgive me?”

She tilted her head to one side, a mischievous expression in her eyes. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Why were you jealous, Creed?”

“Why do you think?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“I love you, Jassy. That’s why I was jealous. Because I love you. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Oh, yes.” She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking he’d never know how she’d longed to hear those words.

“I love you.” He drew her into his arms, one arm caressing her back. “I love you.” His lips moved over her face, raining kisses over her cheeks, her brow.

She gazed into his eyes, eyes filled with tenderness. “Will you tell me that often, so you don’t forget?”

“Every day,” he promised.

“All right, then, I forgive you.”

Hand in hand, they walked back to the hotel. Creed unlocked the door, lit the lamp, and found himself staring at the bed which suddenly seemed to fill the room. He was aware of Jassy standing behind him.

Slowly, he turned around to face her. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’ll spend the night on the floor,” he said, his voice thick.

“And if I don’t?”

“I’m gonna make love to you until the sun comes up.”

“Really?” She took a step toward him, remembering all the times he’d started to make love to her, then backed away.

“Really.”

She closed the distance between them. Rising up on her tiptoes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Make love to me, Creed,” she murmured, her breath warm and sweet against his mouth. “Make love to me until the sun comes up.”

“Jassy…”

“You haven’t changed your mind already?”

“I just don’t want you to regret this.”

“I won’t,” she whispered. “I promise I won’t.”

“I asked you to be my wife a while back, remember?”

Jassy nodded.

“There’s bound to be someone in this town who can marry us.” He stroked her cheek with his fingertip. “I can wait one more day.”

“I can’t.”

“You’re sure?”

She started to say yes, of course she was sure, but then she thought of her mother, and Rose, and all the men they had known—known in the most intimate sense of the word. She had been ashamed of her mother and sister ever since she was old enough to know what they did for a living. If she let Creed make love to her now, she would be no better than the rest of the women in her family.

She looked at Creed, wanting him more than anything she had ever wanted in her life, and yet wanting to wait because she knew it was the right thing to do.

“It’s okay, Jassy. Like I said, I can wait one more day.”

She glanced away, wondering if he was angry, if he thought she was just a tease. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He placed a finger under her chin, tipped her face up, and kissed the tip of her nose. And then, resolutely, he put her away from him. “I said I can wait, and I can, but it might be better for both of us if you hopped into bed.”

“I love you, Creed.”

His hand caressed her cheek. “And I love you.” Funny, how easy those words came now, he thought. “And tomorrow I’ll show you just how much. But for now, I think you’d better get some sleep.”

“All right.” She frowned as he picked up his hat. “Where are you going?”

“Downstairs for a few minutes.”

Jassy bit down on her lower lip. “You’re not going to…”

Slowly, Creed shook his head. “No, Jassy,” he said with a wry grin. “From now on, you’re the only woman for me.”

A wave of relief flooded her cheeks with color. “Don’t be long.”

“I won’t. Good night, Jassy.”

“‘Night, Creed.”

He winked at her, then exited the room. In the hallway, Creed drew in a deep breath, exhaled it in a long, slow sigh. And then, resolutely, he went downstairs.

An hour later, he had everything he needed.

* * * * *

A low sigh of pleasure rose in Jassy’s throat as a calloused hand stroked her cheek.

“Wake up, Jasmine Alexandria McCloud. It’s your wedding day.”

Wedding day! Her eyelids flew open and she found herself gazing into Creed’s laughing black eyes.

“Unless you’ve changed your mind?” he asked, his lips feathering across her face.

“I haven’t.”

“Good. Hot water’s on the way. Your weddin’ dress will be here in a few minutes.”

“A dress! You found me a dress?”

Creed shrugged, as if it was of no import. “Hope it fits,” he muttered. “Hurry now. I’m going down to get a shave. I’ll be back in thirty minutes.”

He kissed her then, a deep kiss filled with promise, and then he was gone.

Minutes later, there was a knock at the door. Jassy opened it to find a woman of about her size standing in the hallway.

“Yes?”

“Miss McCloud?”

“Yes.”

“This is for you.” The woman held out a large box. “Congratulations on your forthcoming nuptials,” she said. “I hope you’ll be very happy.”

“Thank you,” Jassy said. Closing the door behind, she placed the box on the bed and lifted the lid. Inside, nestled on a layer of tissue paper, was a wedding dress made of ivory lace.

Reverently, Jassy lifted it out of the box and held it up. It was the most exquisite thing she had ever seen, with a high, stand-up collar, long fitted sleeves, and a full skirt with a small bustle.

“Oh, Creed,” she murmured as she stared at herself in the mirror over the commode. “Wherever did you find this?”

* * * * *

Thirty minutes later, Creed knocked at the door. “Ready in there?”

“Yes,” she called, and opened the door.

She was a vision in ivory lace. Her brown eyes were glowing, her smile was radiant.

“Jassy…you’re beautiful.”

“Am I?”

He nodded, unable to speak past the lump in his throat.

He’d never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

“You look beautiful, too,” Jassy murmured. And indeed, he did. Freshly shaved, dressed in a black suit, crisp white shirt, black silk cravat, and black boots, she knew she’d never seen a more handsome man in her life.

“Are you ready?” Creed asked.

Jassy nodded, and Creed took her arm and led her downstairs into the dining room.

Jassy gasped when they entered the room. It had been decorated with greenery and wildflowers. A priest stood under an arch made of pine boughs. The hotel clerk and an elderly woman stood beside him. The woman, whom Jassy recognized as the one who had brought her the dress, held a bouquet of yellow and white daisies, which she handed to Jassy.

“Good luck, dear,” she murmured.

Jassy nodded, her eyes brimming with tears. They were in the middle of nowhere, and yet Creed had managed to find her a gown and flowers.

The words that united them in marriage were few and simple, yet they were the most beautiful, wonderful words Jassy had ever heard. She hardly minded at all that Creed didn’t use his own name; to her, it didn’t matter. She was marrying the man, not a name. She spoke the words that made her Creed’s wife fervently, and when he kissed her, she knew it was forever.

The hotel clerk and his mother wished them well, the priest smiled benevolently, handed them the marriage license, and took his leave.

Swinging Jassy into his arms, Creed carried her up the stairs to their room. Nudging the door shut with his heel, he kissed Jassy long and hard before setting her on her feet.

Jassy stared up at Creed. He was her husband now, for better or worse, in sickness or health, from this day forward. A riot of emotions welled up within her. Anxiety. Hope. Anticipation. Desire. She could feel the pulse beating rapidly in her throat as his gaze moved over her face.

“Jassy, I’m sorry I couldn’t find a ring. I looked, but…”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“I’ll try to be a good husband to you, to make you happy.”

He took her hand in his. Her hand was so small, so slender. Pale and smooth where his was dark and calloused. “I hope you never regret this day.”

“I won’t.”

She saw the doubts in his eyes, and they only made her love him more. Leaning forward, she pressed her mouth to his.

And there was no more room for doubts. He crushed her to him, his lips claiming hers, branding her forever more. With trembling fingers, he began to unfasten the long row of tiny buttons that fastened her dress. He caressed her out of her undergarments, his hands gentle, eager, until she was gloriously naked, and then he swung her into his arms and carried her to bed.

The heat of his mouth, the exploration of his hands, expelled all trace of modesty or shyness, and it was with bold eagerness that Jassy began removing Creed’s clothing. Shivers of delight unfurled within her as her hands encountered warm flesh. She let her eyes feast on his nakedness, awed by the muscular beauty of him. He was like a being chiseled from bronze come to life. His back was smooth and dark, marred by the faint white lines of old scars. She found a small puckered scar on his left thigh, another on his right shoulder. With a slight shake of her head, she drew her fingertips over the crooked scar on his left cheek.

“Pretty beat up, huh?” Creed murmured, nuzzling her neck.

“What caused this one?” she asked, touching the scar on his thigh.

“Bullet.”

She laid her hand on his shoulder. ”And this one?”

“Knife.”

“And this one?”

“Tomahawk.”

She pressed her lips to each one, wishing she could erase all his old hurts.

“Ah, Jassy,” he exclaimed softly, and claimed her lips with his.

And there, in a small narrow bed, amid moans of discovery and quiet cries of delight, Creed made love to Jassy as tenderly as ever a man made love to a woman, hoping she would hear the words trapped in his throat, that she would know he loved her more than life itself, that he needed her more than his next breath.

Later, with her head pillowed on his shoulder, her arm draped over his waist, Jassy let out a long contented sigh.