Rebecca Hagan Lee - [Borrowed Brides 02] (19 page)

“You don’t think it makes me look too…too yellow, do you?” Tessa didn’t really doubt that the shade was becoming. She simply wanted to hear David confirm his earlier assessment.

“I think you look as fetching as a spring flower,” he assured her. “A daffodil.” He changed his mind. “No, an iris. A lovely, elegant iris.”

She spun around so he could view the back. “It fits perfectly. How did you know?”

“I told the seamstress you were about Mary’s size, only a few inches taller, and a redhead.”

She glanced back over her shoulder. “I’ve never worn a bustle before,” she admitted, “but I’ve always wanted to. Isn’t it grand?”

David focused his gaze on the back of her gown, paying close attention to the curve where her firm little bottom should have been. He frowned at the bustle. He preferred Tessa’s natural shape to the horsehair-enhanced version, but rather than spoil her pleasure in the fashionable bustle, David relied on his vivid memory. “It’s a work of art.”

“And look,” Tessa ordered, raising her hem a fraction. “Shoes to match.”

David looked at her trim ankles encased in dyed kid boots and the exposed portion of one calf in shimmering gossamer silk. The bill for her clothes would be outrageously high, made as they were on such short notice, but he wouldn’t complain. He’d already decided they were worth every last penny.

“Did you know there were three dresses?” Tessa asked, her lilting brogue thickening in her excitement. “This yellow one, a brown one, and a blue one. With gloves and…you know…everything to match.” She blushed again at the idea that he’d ordered more unmentionables for her. And lovely ones, at that.

“Everything except hats,” David told her. He despised hats, especially ladies’ hats with all the flowers and lace and bows and yards of tulle. He’d even seen some with stuffed birds on the brims. They ranked right up there with tea and—he stared at the back of her dress again—bustles. No hats. He’d telegraphed that message to the seamstress along with the others. He enjoyed the play of light on Tessa’s fiery mane. It would be a crime to cover it up.

“Well, who needs more than one hat, anyway?” Tessa smiled brightly, too brightly. She tried not to feel disappointed. After all, he had bought her all these lovely things. She should have known David would forget to order hats. She’d noticed he seldom remembered to wear his own.

“You can order a few hats if you want,” David offered impulsively, belatedly realizing Tessa liked feminine headgear and that he was being high-handed by denying her. “I’ll even take you into Cheyenne.” He hated the thought of going into Cheyenne, but if it would make her happy, it was worth it. Feeling generous, he added, “You can pick them out yourself. There’s a milliner in the city who makes hats of all descriptions, covered with bows and lace. Even stuffed quail and sparrows.” He tried not to cringe when her eyes lit up.

“When can we go?”

“In a week or so, after the circuit judge leaves,” David said, postponing it as long as he could. “I’ll have more time then.”

“Oh.” Again she tried to hide her disappointment.

“I might be able to fit a trip in sooner.”

“I can wait a week or so,” Tessa assured him although she wasn’t certain she wouldn’t be in jail then.

“I’ll see what I can work in between hearings,” David promised.

Hearings. David realized what he’d said almost immediately, and he could tell from the expression on Tessa’s face that she’d noticed as well. She had been accused of murder. Technically she was his prisoner, not his houseguest. She might not have any time after the hearing. She might not have any time at all.

“Tessa…”

“David…” Tessa gazed at him, unable to look away. She recognized the need in his voice. Lifting herself up onto her toes, she sought his lips.

David met her halfway, closing the distance between them.

Tessa wrapped her arms around his neck. The dish towel fell to the floor, unheeded. She pressed her lips against his.

He reached for her, touching the base of her spine with one hand. He felt the softness of the yellow wool as he pulled her to his body. Holding her cradled against him, he lifted his other hand to the back of her head. He tangled his long fingers in the silken strands of her hair, scattering the pins in every direction. The heavy mass tumbled from the confines of her braided coronet to hang well below her shoulders. David gently separated the braid and ran his hand through her hair.

Loving the feel of his hands in her hair, yet wanting more, Tessa explored the seam of his mouth with the tip of her tongue.

He groaned aloud. Parting his lips to allow her entrance, David kissed her back with an urgency that couldn’t be denied. He ate at her lips, tasting her over and over again, probing the depths of her mouth. He inhaled her breath, her little whimpers and cries of pleasure, as his tongue met, then mated with hers.

Tessa moved her hands from around his neck, caressing the breadth of his shoulders before working her hands between them. Finding the buttons of his shirt, Tessa undid them one by one, then slipped her hands inside the opening and touched the skin of his chest.

The feel of her hands against his flesh ignited the fires he’d kept carefully banked. Forgetting restraint, David tore his mouth away from hers, planting kisses on her eyelids, her cheekbones, down the column of her neck, and back again to her ear. He plunged his tongue inside the delicate shell.

Tessa shivered in reaction.

David released his tight hold on her, allowing his hands to roam over the back of her yellow wool gown searching for the fastenings.

She felt the cool rush of air against her back as David freed the hooks of her dress. Moving his hands to the front, he tugged it off her shoulders and down her arms. The bodice fell to her waist.

Placing a hand on either shoulder, David smoothed the straps of her corset cover and chemise aside. Tessa pulled her arms free. Smiling at the wonderful bounty she offered, he leaned forward and kissed the curve of each breast, then bent to pull the sheer silk garments lower.

Tessa gasped when his mouth found the hard nub of one breast. Her legs quivered beneath her. She groped for something to steady herself and found his wide shoulders. He licked, lightly at first, then harder, suckling her like a baby demanding nourishment. Tessa felt a rush of moisture between her legs, felt the incredible ache that begged for attention.

A hoarse shout followed by a burst of high-pitched feminine laughter outside the window echoed through the office.

“Damn!” David cursed beneath his breath as he straightened up and walked to the back door. It was unlocked. Lifting the window shade, he realized it was dark outside. Twilight had given way to night, and in the brightly lit interior of the office he and Tessa had been silhouetted against the shades for all of Peaceable to see. “Son of a bitch!”

“Who is it?” Tessa whispered, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable.

David strained to make out the figures walking arm and arm down the alley. Listening closely he heard the low murmur of conversation and the rhythmic jingling of spurs. As he watched, the two shadows stopped to kiss. David let the shade fall back into place.

“Just a cowboy and his lady friend.” He turned back to Tessa.

She stood in the center of the room, the bodice of her dress held protectively in front of her. Her eyes were a dark sapphire blue, her lips red and swollen from his kisses, her glorious red hair tousled by his eager hands. She’d never looked more inviting. Or lovelier.

David massaged the muscles at the back of his neck. What the hell was he thinking of? Tessa Roarke was his client, not his lover. He couldn’t forget that. But neither could he forget the feel of her in his arms or the taste of her. He wouldn’t let himself think about that, he promised. He’d think about her case instead. He couldn’t make love; all his energy should be focused on saving her. He couldn’t risk her life for a few hours of pleasure. David smoothed his hair back, restoring a semblance of order, and buttoned the top button of his shirt.

He would act honorably.

“David?” Tessa searched for a sign, some clue to his emotions, but his face gave nothing away. He had distanced himself from her. One minute they were intimate, and the next, he acted as if he’d never kissed her. Tessa struggled to regain the closeness they’d shared. “Would you like to kiss me again?”

God, yes, he thought, I’d like to kiss you all over. All night. Forever. “I think we’ve done enough kissing for one night, Tessa.” He finished buttoning his shirt and walked to the sink. The dishwater was cold.

“Don’t,” Tessa told him, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll finish the dishes.”

“We had a deal,” David reminded her, diligently scrubbing another plate. “I’d wash the dishes while you tried on your dresses.”

Tessa tried again. “Which dress would you like to see next? The brown or the blue?”

David plunged the plate into the rinse water before facing her.

She let the bodice of her dress slip just a bit, so the tops of her breasts were exposed to his view once again. She licked her lips and took a step forward.

David forced himself to stay where he was, but every inch of his body strained to accept her invitation. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “I…um…think you should try the other dresses on in your room.”

“You think too much.” Tessa took another step.

He held up a hand to ward her off. Drops of water ran down his wrist and fell to the floor. “Because you don’t think enough.”

She stopped, stung by his words. Her expression hardened. The softness left her eyes; they became a colder shade of blue.

He hated the change. “Tessa, you don’t understand… I’m your attorney. You’re my client.”

“I understand that I was as much your client when you kissed me as I am now,” she told him. “And I understand that I might not have much time left. A week from now I might be in jail for the rest of my life.” Tessa turned and stalked across the room, down the hall and into her bedroom, leaving him with a splendid view of the rigid column of her corseted spine.

Tessa couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned against the feather mattress, waiting, listening for the sound of David’s footsteps in the hall. She hadn’t heard anything except the rustle of the bedclothes against her body for hours. Had he left her? Had he gone out? Tessa remembered the last time he’d gone to the Satin Slipper when he’d told her about his drinking, how it made him want to love a woman all night long.

Tessa punched her pillow one more time, then flipped back the covers. If he’d gone to the Satin Slipper, she’d kill him. If he wanted to make love to a woman, it wasn’t going to be Charlotte or Myra. It was going to be her. She was the one who might go to prison for the rest of her life. Tessa knew David would fight hard to prove her innocence to the judge and jury, but she also knew that the people of Peaceable already believed her guilty of killing Arnie Mason. She felt, deep down in her heart, that she didn’t stand a chance of going free. She might never get another opportunity to he in David’s arms and to make love with him. She desperately wanted her chance to experience the pleasure David offered. She was the woman he wanted, not Myra or Charlotte, and
she
wanted him. Why shouldn’t she take advantage of her one chance at loving? Why shouldn’t she have the man she wanted before she went to prison?

* * *

David looked up from his desk, the words on the pages of the Pinkerton dossier scattered across his desk blurring in the lamplight. He closed his eyes, then wearily pinched the bridge of his nose. It was no use. He couldn’t keep his mind off Tessa. He wondered how she looked when she slept. What she wore. The memory of her back tortured him. He wanted to caress her soft skin, to kiss each vertebra, run his tongue up and down her spine, turn her over and pay homage to her magnificent breasts. David shifted in his chair, adjusting to accommodate the swelling in his trousers. It had been like this all night. He opened his eyes, forcing himself to read the meticulously written notes on Arnie Mason, the lists of petty crimes, extortion, and attempted murder. Just thinking of a man like that coming in contact with Tessa…
Tessa
.

David closed the dossier and picked up a lawbook. Streams of dull legal phrases swam before his eyes. He reached into his desk drawer and removed a bottle of Scots whisky and a glass. David uncorked the bottle and filled the glass, then recorked it and replaced the bottle. He took a small ring of keys from his trouser pocket and locked the drawer, then threw the key ring across the room so he wouldn’t be tempted to overindulge. It bounced off the wall and skidded across the floor.

Sipping his drink, David concentrated on the printed page. There had to be something here, some legal precedent, some tiny loophole to prevent the Territory of Wyoming from prosecuting Tessa Roarke. Tessa. He groaned as her name conjured up pictures. Tessa with her yellow dress bunched around her waist, her breasts bared. Tessa, her lips swollen, her cool hands against his chest. Tessa, stalking away, her beautiful back displayed just for him. He imagined her lying naked amid the lawbooks and papers on his desk, begging him to love her.

“Dammit!” David muttered, raking his left arm across the top of his desk, sweeping books and papers off the shiny surface. The heavy law books thudded to the floor. “Dammit!” He pressed his forehead against the polished wood. He had to concentrate on his work. He had to stop thinking about her.

“David?”

He lifted his head, blinking at her image. She moved toward him, and David wondered if he’d conjured her up from the depths of his memory.

“David?” Tessa repeated his name, then saw the glass of whisky in his hand. “Are you drunk?”

“Nope. It’s my first.”

“Oh.”

He gazed at the long, shapely legs outlined against the fine silk of her nightclothes. She wore a chemise, brief silk and lace underdrawers, and nothing else. The shadow of the triangle between her thighs beckoned to him. “You sound disappointed.”