Promises Prevail (The Promise Series) (22 page)

He smiled at the disbelief in her voice. “Yes.”

“And I can use it?” This time the disbelief didn’t make him smile.

“I bought it for my wife.” His tone was harder than it should be, but damn, it pissed him off when she acted like she was nothing.

“But I’m…”

He glanced down at her and finished her sentence with the only truth that mattered. “The only wife I’ll ever have.”

He kicked the door fully open with his foot and stepped into the warmth of the kitchen. The house smelled of food, wood smoke, and hope. Hard to believe it had been the scene of such chaos moments before. He debated sitting in the kitchen, but the chair was too small for what he had in mind.

The parlor, though. The parlor had a nice big settee that would do just fine. And it was next to the bath addition. He ignored Jenna’s stiffening as he stepped over Danny’s sprawled form in the doorway to the hall. He hadn’t managed to keep the dog out of the house, but he had managed to keep him out of the kitchen, barely. As he went down the hall, he heard the click of Danny’s nails on the wood floor behind him.

When he got to the parlor, he used his pinkie to slide the pocket door closed. Danny flopped to the floor with a disgruntled sigh. The door rattled as his massive body settled against it. Jenna stiffened in his arms with a wary breath. He very carefully set her on the settee, rubbing his forearm where the steel of the stays had bitten into it. She stayed where he placed her, watching him from wide blue eyes, every muscle tensed in case he turned ornery.

He touched the lace collar of the simple brown dress. He was going to turn something, but ornery didn’t quite fit it.

“Unbutton your dress.”

Her fingers went immediately to the long line of cloth-covered buttons. There was no hesitation to show resentment, though he knew she had to be feeling something. He ran his fingers down the side of her face, and up along the line of her jaw until her chin balanced on his fingertips.

“I need to see you, Sunshine.”

Her gaze flicked up, as usual too fast to read, but there was a tremble in her fingers as she worked the third button loose. She was afraid. At the very least, nervous.

He went over to the little parlor stove and added some more wood. The room was warm, but not warm enough to lounge naked. And he wanted her naked, before and after their bath. Especially after.

By the time he turned back to her, she had all of the buttons undone down to her stomach, revealing the cotton covered stays beneath, and the full swell of her breasts. She was watching him from under her lashes, her fingers pausing as he knelt beside her. Her breath caught in her throat as his hands replaced hers.

“It’s all right, Jenna.”

“I know,” she whispered.

He smiled as the last two buttons gave up the fight.

“Then how come you’re not breathing?”

“I am. It’s just a little difficult, sitting like this with the stays.”

“Then let’s get them off.”

“I could just change positions.” The suggestion was offered cautiously. No doubt she wanted out of her dirty clothes, quickly and efficiently, with him out of the room, but it wasn’t going to happen that way. She was his wife. She needed to understand that even though he was calling the shots, he was here to care for her. The only way he knew to do that was to show her.

“I like off better. Lift up.” He spread the dress off her shoulders, and tapped the inside of her rounded white arm. Her breasts shimmied with the motion, their full white curves suffused with rose, bulging over the top of her cotton camisole.

He supported her head with his hand, sliding a tasseled pillow underneath. Her big blue eyes were fastened on him with a mixture of confusion and trepidation, but she didn’t argue and didn’t resist. There was something very seductive about knowing that she would let him do whatever he wanted without protest. He could see where it could tempt a lover to go too far, to push her too hard. She gave a man free license to unleash all his baser instincts with that air of acceptance and tempted him to do so with every breath she took.

“He untied her camisole and spread the material wide. Her breasts rose white and full, shivering slightly with her breath. “You’re perfect, Sunshine.”

“I’m not perfect.”

He shook his head at that flat little statement. “On that, we are never going to agree.” He tucked the camisole beneath her large breasts. Her nipples were small, pert little nubs on top of dainty areolas, petal pink and infinitely tempting.

She
was
perfect, everything about her lushly inviting, and he wanted nothing more than to just sink into her.

“I don’t want you to panic, Sunshine, but later on I’m going to want to kiss your breasts.”

“Why would I panic?”

“Because you always seem to expect the worst. But right now I’m going to get you ready for your bath.”

“I can do it myself.”

She could, but letting her hide from him was something that he was unwilling to do.

“It’s our honeymoon and this is a husband’s privilege that I’m not willing to give up.”

“Undressing me?”

“Undressing you. Bathing you. Drying you off.” He shrugged. “Pampering you.”

She stared at him with her lips parted, apparently speechless.

“What part has you flummoxed?”

She didn’t answer. He unfastened the hooks to her stays. It wasn’t easy. Damn she had herself trussed up tighter than a Christmas goose.

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’m guessing it’s not the undressing part as you didn’t seem overly concerned last night.”

Her hands clenched into fists beside her. “I’m not loose!”

“Never thought you were.”

He slid the stays apart. Even through her camisole he could see how the bone had bitten into her tender skin, the cotton damp and sticking to the deep grooves.

She shivered.

“Are you cold?”

She shook her head.

“Nervous?”

Her lip slid between her teeth. Her nod was the faintest move of her head.

“No need to be. I may be new to being a husband, but I’ve been studying up for a long time on what to do with a wife.”

“You have?”

He reached for the pins in her hair. “Yes.”

She eyed him warily as pin after pin came free, and the heavy, wavy mass slid down to surround her face.

“My own personal angel.”

She touched the messy wound on his wrist. “Not much of an angel.”

He smiled. “An angel with a bite.”

“It will scar.”

He looked at the bite, caked with dry blood and already bruising.

“Sure enough, you put your brand on me.”

Her gaze slid from his. “I’m sorry.”

He tipped her face back to his. “I kind of like the idea of carrying your mark.”

Confusion replaced worry. He let her chew on that while he unbuttoned her camisole and pulled it over her head. Her hair got tangled in the buttons before he could pulled it free, leaving her with her arms pulled over her head and her torso stretched high. Those full breasts, with their dainty enticing tips, were face level. With the faintest of movements, he could have one against his tongue, know her taste. Saliva flooded his mouth and his cock jerked in his pants. All he had to do was be bastard enough to lean forward, and he could have what he wanted. She’d let him. She wouldn’t fight him. She’d hold still and let him do whatever he wanted.

And probably die a little bit in the process.

He took a steadying breath, reined in his lust, and untangled her hair from the buttons. He needed to back off with her. Forget all his big talk and base plans and start over.

When she lowered her arms, her face and chest were beet red. The only indication of what she wanted to do was the twitch of her hands toward her breasts, but then she placed her hands at her sides, palms up, and lowered her gaze.

He took her hands and crossed them over her breasts, pressing them into her upper arms as her gaze flew to his.

“If you don’t want to show me your body, you don’t have to.”

“But…”

“No buts. Except in a situation where you’re hurt and there’s a need, I won’t touch you again without permission.”

“You’re my husband!”

“Yes I am, but I don’t rape women.”

“I’m your wife.”

“And a damned tempting one, but that doesn’t change anything.”

“I can’t tell you no.”

He touched the full curve of her lower lip. “Yes, you can. It’s a one syllable word and real easy for most people to get out.”

Her fingers dug into her arms, her lip slipped between her teeth, betraying her confusion and revealing her dimples.

“You don’t understand.”

“No, I don’t. But I’ve never forced myself on a woman, and I’m not about to start now.”

He pushed to his feet. Son of a bitch, doing the right thing was painful. “Which means, as much as I’d like otherwise, I’ll be letting you handle your own bath.”

It almost killed him to say that, too. She was so tempting, with her plump arms squeezing her breasts together and up, creating a valley he’d love to explore, her dimples teasing him from the redness of her cheeks, and those big blue eyes shining bright in her face. As he watched, a tear slid out of the corner of the left one and trickled down her temple to blend into the bright gold of her hair, darkening a strand.

“I’m going to fill the tub.” He dropped the blanket over her. “You just lie here and relax while I get it ready.”

“I don’t understand you.”

“I know, and that’s a damned shame.”

She clutched the blanket to her chest, bounced a glance off of his erection as it strained down his thigh, and another off of the wet stain on the leg of his denims near where his cock head rested.

“I repulse you.”

“You know that’s a lie.”

“You’re ashamed of me.”

He admired the gumption that kept her head up while she put forward her convictions. “Not hardly.”

“You will be.” He didn’t like the way her eyes skirted his.

He tilted her head up. “I won’t.”

“You don’t know—”

He cut her off, holding her gaze through sheer force of will. “I don’t need to.”

“But—”

He cut her off with a shake of his head. “Here’s where my being half Indian plays in your favor. I was raised white, but a lot of my mother’s beliefs stuck with me. One being, if you say it, it’s true.”

“Like when you said I was your wife and Brianna was your daughter?”

“Yes.” He tugged her lower lip free of her teeth, letting his thumb slide along the moist inner lining. “The other is, all you need to do to start over is to put one foot in front of the other and do it.”

“That’s crazy.”