Hannah Howell (43 page)

Stepping into his room, he was only vaguely aware of the soft light and the gentle fragrance of flowers. All of his attention was fixed on Antonie, his every sense taken up with her. He dazedly shut and locked the door.

She stood by the bed looking shy, a look that contrasted wildly with the sensuous gown she wore. The lavender silk was not quite transparent, her soft curves were only partly visible. It tied down the front, just off center, a thin line of creamy flesh visible between each bow. Her slim arms were bare, and the neckline of the gown was so low he felt sure that the slightest movement on her part would free her breasts. When he saw how her nipples hardened as he stared at her, the hard tips outlined clearly against the silk, he started to move toward her, removing his clothes.

Antonie felt shy and nervous. She told herself that that was ridiculous, but even reminding herself of how thoroughly they had loved each other for so many nights in the past, did not alter how she felt. This time she would be his wife. She suspected that the long stretch of celibacy they had just endured also added to her feelings.

Watching how rapidly he was disrobing as he approached her, she thought wryly that he clearly did not suffer such feelings. Desire had already tautened his features. She was more than pleased that he obviously did not find her the least bit silly, as she stood there in her alluring nightwear so obviously pregnant.

“Impatient,
querido?"
she asked huskily when he finally stood before her, naked and fully aroused.

“Very impatient. Where did you get this confection?” he rasped even as he began to slowly untie the first bow.

“After the cattle drive. I was saving it for a special occasion."

Cupping her face in his hands, his lips played over hers. “Lovely but, right now, I think it'll be lovelier in a heap on the floor."

He kissed her hungrily and she clung to him. She was starved for him. It had been too long since he had even kissed her. Clinging to him, she gave a soft murmur of conciliation when he lifted her, then gently laid her down on the bed.

When his lips left hers and began to follow the path revealed by the slow undoing of her gown, she wondered how he had the control to indulge in any foreplay. The touch of his lips upon her breasts was almost more than she could bear. Beneath her caressing hands she could feel the fine tremor of fierce need in his body yet he curled his tongue lazily around her nipples. He suckled with a greedy idleness until she began to shift restlessly beneath him.

She wanted to enjoy the slowness of his lovemaking, but she also wanted him now. As he slid his kisses down her trembling body and moved out of her reach, she clenched her hands. Antonie fought to control the passion racing through her, but lost the battle completely when his lips touched the heated softness between her thighs. Despite her efforts to enjoy the pleasure of his intimate kiss, her release shuddered through her body an instant later.

A return of sanity was extremely brief, for he barely gave her time to catch her breath before he skillfully began to resurrect her passion. As she hovered on the brink of a second release, she reached for him a little desperately. He drove into her even as her inner tremors began. She closed her legs tightly around him, but he barely moved within her, his release pulled from him by feeling hers. As she held him close, she realized that his control had been a hard-won thing, his passion kept right on the edge of consummation to ensure that she was not deprived of pleasure.

After washing themselves, Royal slid back into bed. He ran his hands over her body to feel the changes pregnancy had wrought in her. Her breasts were fuller and, he guessed by the reaction she had to his light touch, perhaps more sensitive. The tiny waist he had often grasped was just a memory. When he covered the roundness of her stomach with his hands, he felt movement inside and was briefly choked with emotion.

“Lively,” he murmured.

“O'Neill says he does the Irish jig,” Antonie said. Royal felt fiercely jealous. “O'Neill felt this?"

"Sí."
She bit back a smile over the jealous tone in his voice. “He likes babies. He is a doctor, you know."

“A doctor who's a bounty hunter?"

"Sí.
I think that is why he tries so hard to bring the men back alive."

“Well, why isn't he practicing doctoring?” He moved to lie at her side and tugged her into his arms, returning his hand to rest on her stomach.

“He has never said and I have never asked. I think something disillusioned him, or maybe the wrong patient died. He had also had trouble because he is Irish. Some people have a bad feeling for the Irish. He doctors if there is a need, like when I was taken by Raoul. Maybe he just has a restlessness in him he needs to ride out first."

“That could be. He's what? Twenty-five? Twenty-six?"

“Twenty-seven. You went to the hanging?” she asked abruptly.

“Yes, me, my brothers and Oro. We saw Henry hanged and Marilyn taken to prison."

“You did not have to hide this from me."

“I didn't want to stir up old, bad memories. It was a frightening time for you, an ordeal not lessened by your relatively minor wounds."

“I was very lucky and you arrived in time.
De nada."

“The things he threatened you with,” Royal began hoarsely, his hold on her tightening slightly.

“Threats do not hurt,
querido.
When I think of that time, I think only of how lucky I was. The fear is not there. I cannot be troubled over things that might have happened but did not."

“You didn't really want to see the hanging, did you?"

“No. I do not like hangings. I will take your word that all was done right."

Royal kissed her forehead. “It's over now. Henry's dead, Raoul's dead, and Marilyn's locked up."

“Tight?"

“Very tight. From what I've heard, she might soon wish the town wasn't so squeamish about hanging a young woman."

“Do you have any regrets about her?” she asked quietly.

“No. One reason I went was to see if I was being unfair, if maybe she was just a sick woman who had been cleverly manipulated by her father. Far from it. Henry had been manipulated. He died because she was greedy, because she wanted to be a damn queen."

“No,
querido,
he died because he did not say no. Maybe he was weak or maybe he wanted it all, too, but did not have the wit or the courage to try for it. She could not make her papa kill so many or plan to unless he wanted to, I think. No, for whatever reasons, he was her partner. He was not blameless."

“True. It would have been fairer if she had hanged, too."

"Sí,
but that is not the way it is done here. The prison she goes to is a strong one?"

“Yes. It's over, Antonie. Don't worry about that. She'll live out her life there."

Inwardly, he grimaced. His words had sounded confident but a little doubt gnawed at him. He would not tell Antonie about how Marilyn had used her sexual expertise on the deputy and nearly succeeded in escaping. There was no need to worry Antonie. The sheriff had sent a warning to the prison officials, even though the man felt that they were probably well acquainted with Marilyn's type. Marilyn was gone and he was foolish to feel that it could be otherwise. He was just letting that look of insane hatred in Marilyn's eyes get to him.

“You frown so,
querido.
Is something wrong?” Antonie asked, smoothing her hand over the furrows in his brow.

“No, I was just thinking about the Collinses ranch and if I can buy it.” Royal grimaced. “Terrible thoughts to think on your wedding night."

“What would you do with so much land?"

“There's Cole, Justin, and now Denton."

“They have land."

“A bit. However, if I can get hold of that ranch, we'd have a good-sized spread each."

“A Bancroft empire."

“I reckon it does sound like that,” he murmured and laughed.

“A little, but it would not be one, eh? There would be four ranches and four families."

“Five. Patricia's bit could be enlarged. Room for more, too.” His hand smoothed over her stomach. “Land's disappearing fast. It might not hurt to get some for the future."

He found it a little difficult to think about grand plans for providing for future generations of Bancrofts when Antonie teased his mouth with hers. She eased her tongue into his mouth and he sighed with pleasure. The way she stroked his body with her small hands had desire flooding him.

Antonie neatly eluded his attempt to hold her firm, to take control. She dotted his throat with soft kisses as she fondled the sensitive nipples on his chest with her fingers. Unable to completely avoid his touch, she shivered as he reciprocated her caress, but she successfully fought the urge to give control over to him and simply enjoy.

With a leisureliness that had him groaning softly, she teased his nipples with her tongue, then gently suckled. He continued to arouse her with his stroking hands and she began to slide out of his reach. She smiled against his taut stomach when she dipped her tongue into his navel, and he shook. His obvious signs of pleasure increased her own.

The cry he gave when she touched her lips to the tip of his erection was music to her ears. As she moved her hands over his firm buttocks and strong thighs, she pleasured him with her mouth and tongue. She knew he wanted to enjoy her attentions for as long as possible, so she kept her caresses slow and gentle, moving away from time to time to allow him a chance to regain some control. When he curved his leg around her to hold her close she felt engulfed in his maleness, and wondered a little wryly who had the most difficulty in controlling their passions. Her body was shaking as much as his was.

“Enough, honey,” he rasped as, even as he turned onto his back, he reached for her. “I want to be inside you."

Straddling him, she eased their bodies together. “Like this,
mi vida?"

She gave a cry of surprise when he suddenly sat up and hungrily kissed her. He then gently forced her to lean back a little, supporting her back with his arm as he began to greedily kiss her breasts. He used his other hand to direct her hips in a subtle movement against his. She tightly gripped his shoulders as her release tore through her. At the same time, he firmly gripped her hips, urging a fast pace that very quickly had him joining her in her fall into passion's abyss.

“The tables were neatly turned,” he said, satiation turning his voice husky, as he lay back down, taking her with him. “Good God,” he breathed when, with her stomach pressed close to his, he felt their child move. “What's that feel like?"

“Sometimes a little strange,” she replied as she eased the intimacy of their embrace to curl up at his side. “It does not always happen at a good time either. At first it felt like a fish, but now it feels more like a baby."

“What do you want? A boy or a girl?"

“A strong baby."

“Yes, same here. A healthy baby."

“And maybe that it will slip out without me hardly noticing,” she said dryly.

He laughed quietly, then held her tighter. Although he was eager for the child he was far from eager for her to go through the birth. Denton's tale of his wife dying in childbirth was an unnecessary reminder of the dangers Antonie faced. Even though he had always been removed from it, he was not totally ignorant of the risks of childbirth. He was afraid for her, but he was going to have to hide it. She probably had a few fears of her own, and he would do her no good by adding to them. It was his place to soothe any fears she might express and give her added strength.

“Just make sure you're standing over some place soft,” he jested. “I don't want my child starting out with a bang on the head."

“Ah, no, that would never do. Rattle his wits, hmm?” She tried to smother a yawn.

“Go to sleep, Antonie,” he said gently.

“But it is our wedding night."

“And we're supposed to stay up all night caught up in lustful greed?"

"Sí.
Something like that."

“I'll wake you up after you've had a little rest."

As she had gone to sleep, she had not thought he was really serious. When she woke engulfed in a passion stoked by his skillful touch, she decided she needed a little more time to learn when he was joking. Then she wrapped her legs around him and rode to the heights with him.

“It is the middle of the night,
gringo,"
she said sleepily as she cuddled up to him. “You woke me up."

“I said I would."

“I know, but I thought you were not serious."

“Oh, I'm always serious about something like that."

“I'll remember that,
querido.
Can I go back to sleep now?"

Royal chuckled, smoothing his hand over her thick hair. “Mmmm. Go back to sleep. I'll try to behave."

She smiled against his skin. It was wonderful to be sharing a bed with him again. Even as she had been healing from her ordeal, too worn-out to even think about making love, she had missed sleeping at his side. It was nice to simply know that he was there, to touch or to hold. Now, even the law said that they could share a bed.

It was still a little hard to believe that she was his wife. Her sleep-drugged mind didn't find it any easier to grasp than when they said their vows and she watched him slip the ring on her finger. There would probably be a few times in the future when she would have to firmly remind herself. She even doubted if she would ever really get over the wonder of it.

Breathing in his scent as sleep claimed her, she prayed that she would have the good fortune to make a few more of her dreams come true. There were a lot of them, but she was willing to settle for just a few.

Antonie was happy with what she had. She knew it was nothing to scoff at. In Royal she had a good man who talked of fidelity and commitment. He wanted her to share both the work and the profits with him. He wanted her as a partner in his life, not just some decoration that just happened to be able to give him children as well. It was no small thing, but she could not fully stop herself from wishing for his love as well. As she finally gave in to sleep, she swore that, while she would never bemoan all she did have, she would never stop trying for that last dream.