Justin's Bride (22 page)

“Oh!” She stamped her foot on the floor. “I want—” She drew in a deep breath. “I want to decide. I want to be the one who controls my life.”

“So control it.” His temper flared. “When you make up your mind, let me know.”

He started to turn away.

“No,” she said forcefully. She reached up and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down until their faces were inches apart.

He recognized the light of battle in her eyes, and something else. Something decidedly passionate. “Megan?”

“Oh, hush up!”

She placed her mouth on his.

If she'd pulled a gun on him, she might have gotten his attention quicker, but he wasn't sure. Her hold on his shirtfront loosened. He could have pulled away. She parted her mouth slightly and swept her tongue across his lips. Then he couldn't do anything but wrap his arms around her and draw her close.

She pressed herself against him. He could feel her breasts against his chest. Her tongue moved back and forth until he opened to admit her. She plunged inside, sweeping past his teeth to duel with him. When he would have angled his head over hers, she reached up her hands and held him still. Despite his greater height and strength, she was the aggressor.

Her fingers plunged into his hair and massaged the back of his neck. Her teeth nibbled his bottom lip. She murmured his name, then pushed at his chest. He moved backward until the desk stopped him.

“Sit down,” she said, between quick breaths.

He settled on the wooden surface and spread his legs. She stepped between his thighs. The sway of her skirts brushed against his groin. The slight caress made his hips flex toward her. Heavy need there pulsed in time with his rapid heartbeat, urging him onward to a madness he'd been careful to avoid in the past. Those long nights by the stream, even more recently, in Megan's bedroom, he'd been carefully in control. He'd set the pace and had been able to back away when the time came.

This afternoon, Megan had something to prove. He wanted to resist her, but he couldn't. Not when she touched him so tenderly. Not when her soft, unintelligible whispers came from her honestly. Not when there was nothing between them but the need.

“I decide,” she said, moving her mouth from his lips to his jaw. He bit back a groan as small, perfect teeth bit down on his chin. “It's my choice. Not yours, not Colleen's, not anyone's.”

Her hands moved to his chest and he felt her unfastening the buttons of his shirt. He thought of the window behind her and the fact that anyone could see in. He thought of how Megan would hate him if anything happened. She was igniting a fire she couldn't control. She expected a slight heat; he was ready to explode.

“Megan, you have to—”

“No,” she said, and pressed her mouth to his chest.

He grabbed her upper arms, prepared to push her away. Instead, he held her close as her tongue stroked his flesh. She'd only undone three buttons, but it was enough to threaten him with madness. Moist warmth sent his blood racing. His maleness surged against his trousers. When one of her hands slipped to his thigh, he had to grit his teeth against the urge to press her untutored palm along him. Just the thought of her sweet caress had him thrusting toward her, the layers of her dress and petticoat preventing any real contact or satisfaction.

“Damn you, Megan,” he growled.

She raised her head. Passionate desire darkened her irises, even as her lips curved up in a smile. “I've decided this is very nice.”

“Might I point out to you that we're in my office?”

“I don't care.” She leaned against him and slowly wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I don't care about anything anymore. Kiss me, Justin.”

He gave up. He'd never been strong enough to deny her in the past. Why would now be any different?

He had just angled his mouth on hers, when he heard the door open. Even as he pulled back, a loud gasp filled the room. Megan jumped and spun toward the sound. He didn't need to look to know who had caught them in each other's arms.

“Megan Bartlett, I've never been so ashamed in my life,” Colleen said, her voice shrill enough to threaten the windows. “I can't believe what I'm seeing.”

Megan stepped away from him and pressed her hands to her chest. “Colleen! What are you doing here?”

Her sister glared at her. “I had heard an ugly rumor at my house this afternoon. Mrs. Greeley said she thought the two of you were keeping company. Like a fool I defended you.” Her pinched mouth twisted down. “You slut.”

Megan flinched. Justin rose to his feet and stepped in front of her. “Hold on, Colleen. There's no need to call anyone names. If someone's at fault, it's me.”

“I have no doubt of that, Sheriff, but don't bother defending my sister. I know she came to you willingly.”

“I don't need defending,” Megan said, pushing him out of her way. She moved closer to her sister. “It was just a kiss. So what? I haven't done anything wrong.”

“Forgive me if I can't share your sense of humor. I
saw
what happened here. How could you? With him, of all people.”

The contempt in her tone made him curl his hands into fists, but he didn't move. No matter what he thought of Colleen, she was still a woman, and his mother had raised him to respect that. Even when he didn't want to.

Megan shook with fury. “Leave him out of this. It's not his fight. It's between you and me. Yes, we were kissing. Do you know why, my pure and holy sister? I wanted to.
Me.
” She pointed at her chest. “I decided to kiss him. And if I want to do it again, I will. You can't stop me.”

Colleen stared at her, then slowly shook her head. “I pity you, Megan. I've long suspected your unmarried state preyed on your mind, but I didn't know it had gone so far. It must be difficult to live with the knowledge that you've never been wanted by a man. You're not terribly unattractive. Perhaps it was your independence that turned men away. I can understand you're tired of being an old maid, but did you have to pick him? Surely the pain of being alone is easier to bear than the stigma of being with someone like him.”

Justin stepped toward her. “Just one damn minute, Colleen.”

“Justin, no.” Megan motioned him to stay back. She advanced toward her sister. “I won't listen to your lies,” she said. “I don't believe you anymore. You'll say anything to make me pay attention to you, but it's too late. As for my choosing Justin... It's the smartest thing I've ever done. I wish I'd done it years ago.”

Colleen laughed. “You think you know everything, Megan, but you don't. He's making a fool of you. Everyone in town knows. Everyone is laughing. Megan Bartlett, that fussy old maid, is chasing after the handsome sheriff. He's using you to help him with that bastard brat and you think he really cares. The whole town is laughing at you. I pity you. I've always pitied you.”

Justin reached toward Megan, but she slipped from his grasp and ran to the door. She pushed past Colleen and ran down the boardwalk. A quick glance told him she was in tears.

He started to go after her, but Colleen closed the door from the inside and leaned against it. “She doesn't need you,” she said.

“Get out of my way.” He stalked over to her and glared down menacingly.

“You don't frighten me.” She smiled a cold sickening smile. It was as if she were that five-year-old girl again, lisping along with the other children in the school yard, singing “Justin is a bastard” in that endless refrain.

“Get out of my way.”

She stepped aside. “Don't bother going after her. It's too late. You see, she can't be with you now. She'll never believe they aren't laughing. Even you can't fight that.”

“She doesn't trust your lies anymore.”

Colleen smiled again. “We'll see. Megan has always been easily controlled. A little rebellious from time to time, but she'll get over it.”

“You really hate her.”

“Of course not. I love her. She's my sister. I'm doing this for her own good.”

M
egan stumbled through the back door of her store and hurried to her small office. Once inside, she turned the key in the lock, then leaned against the smooth wood. Her heart continued to pound wildly in her chest, her throat hurt and her eyelids felt puffy.

Yet none of that compared to the ache in her chest or the heat of the shame that continued to flow through her.

“Everyone knows the fussy old maid is chasing after the handsome sheriff. The whole town is laughing.” Colleen's voice filled the small space as the words repeated over and over in Megan's mind.

She closed her eyes, but that didn't shut out the vision of people laughing. It didn't stop her from wondering if Justin found her pitiful. What if he did? What if he was using her as a source of amusement while he was here? She raised her hands to her face and cupped her flushed cheeks. Please, Lord, it couldn't be true. Not Justin. Anything but that.

Then she remembered what had happened just before Colleen had walked in. How she'd pulled him close and kissed him. Like some wanton. She'd thrust herself at him. What if he hadn't really wanted to kiss her back? What if he'd acted out of pity?

The thought was too horrible to consider. Yet she couldn't let it go. A strangled gasp of pain escaped her lips and she sank down until she was huddled on the floor, her hands clutching at her knees. The tears returned and flowed down her cheeks. She ducked her head toward her chest and let them fall.

“You're not terribly unattractive.”

Megan bit down on her lower lip, but that didn't stop the sob. Not terribly unattractive. What did that mean? That she was simply ugly rather than hideous?

“Surely the pain of being alone...alone...alone.”

Would she always be alone? She hadn't meant to be. She'd thought she would marry. But she hadn't. Colleen was right about that. After Justin had left, she hadn't been interested in being courted by anyone else. Then, when she'd finally gotten engaged, her fianc;aae had broken off with her. She'd had to deal with the store and mourning for her father. She hadn't had time to miss the man. By the time she'd figured out she could successfully run the business, there had been no one left to marry. Before she'd known how much time had passed, she was an old maid with no prospects.

That wasn't so bad, she thought, wiping away her tears. She didn't mind being alone, as long as people weren't laughing at her. As long as Justin hadn't kissed her out of pity.

Megan wasn't sure how long she sat there in the dark office. When the tears dried and her legs started cramping, she rose to her feet and walked over to the mirror on the wall. She studied her face, searching for signs that she'd been crying, trying not to think about her sister's pronouncement that she wasn't “terribly unattractive.” Her eyes were swollen, her nose a little red. She poured cool water into the basin and splashed her skin until it tingled. She used the towel hanging on the hook to wipe away the moisture, then smoothed her still-neat hair.

She had a store to run and customers to take care of. Perhaps in time she would have the courage to ask Justin the truth, perhaps not. It didn't matter. She had done what she'd done, and all the wishing in the world wouldn't change that. She placed her hand on the doorknob and turned it. If the truth be told, she wasn't sorry about kissing Justin or having him kiss her back. Being with him, in his arms, had always been wonderful. She refused to let Colleen steal those memories.

Drawing in a deep breath for courage, she opened her office door and walked into the hall, then past the curtain and into the store. A half-dozen customers circulated between the aisles or leaned over display cases. Bonnie was playing with another little girl her age under Andrew's watchful eye. Her assistant had turned out to be wonderful with the child, sneaking her penny candy and playing endless games with her when the store was quiet.

“Megan!” Bonnie looked up and grinned. “We're playing pioneer. Andrew made us a log cabin for our dolls.”

“Good for you.”

The girl turned back to her playmate.

Megan moved down the center of the store. Watch as she might, nothing seemed different. No one looked at her knowingly. There were no secret smiles, nor was there condescending laughter. Little by little she relaxed. By the time she reached the pattern books, she could breathe easily.

“There you are,” Mrs. Dobson said loudly and squeezed out from behind her desk. “I've been waiting for you to come back. Colleen is looking for you. She was very angry that you left.”

Megan began straightening the bolts of fabric and didn't answer.

“Are you all right?” Mrs. Dobson asked, stepping closer. The older woman peered at her. “You've been crying.”

Megan touched her hand to her cheek, then glanced self-consciously around the store. No one was paying any attention to them. “Colleen found me,” she admitted.

The widow leaned closer. “You weren't the only one who left,” she whispered. “A couple of other women walked out after you, saying that they expected better from the wife of a minister and that it seemed to them Sheriff Kincaid was exactly the right kind of man to have in town. I thought Colleen was going to swear, she was so angry. I stayed until the end. I wanted to know what she had planned.” She shook her head. “They're going to have a lawyer look at his contract, but that's all. Even Anabell Greeley admitted her husband didn't want her making trouble.” Mrs. Dobson smiled and bobbed her head. “You mark my words. That boy is going to convince everyone.”

“Except my sister,” Megan said softly, fingering a bolt of red calico. “Did she say anything else? Anything...” She paused. She didn't want to give away everything if she didn't have to, but she needed to know how much of what Colleen had said was the truth. “Anything about me?”