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  “I want to get married in Tennessee,” she murmured, nipping at his chin with her white teeth, then kissing the slight sting away. “In our old church in Sevierville, with Aunt Silver there. You do want your father to be best man, don’t you?”

  “I don’t care,” he muttered in raw frustration, sitting up abruptly and dumping her off his chest. As he reached for her she drew away, but she caught his hand and carried his fingers to her lips, where she nibbled and sucked at each of his fingertips in turn.

  Her voice was dreamy. “I want to show you the farm, and the old country roads. Gatlinburg is best in the spring and summer, I think. We can go into all the old-time crafts stores on Glades Road, and walk in the mountains. I want to show you the whole park. We can go to the Chimneys, and Cade’s Cove, and Grandfather Mountain. And I want to see Unto These Hills one last time—”

  He put his hand over her mouth, stifling the flow of words. “Tessa, darling, yes! I’ll agree to anything you want. I’ll marry you anywhere you want, in front of as many people as you want, and I’ll hike from Tennessee to Wyoming with you, if that’s what you want. Now, does that cover everything?”

  A suspicious sound came from behind his hand, and he looked into green eyes that were brimming with laughter, sparkling in the way that he loved. She’d been playing with him, he realized, deliberately driving him mad with frustration, and loving her feminine power to do so. If he hadn’t been so certain of her intention of fully satisfying him, he’d have erupted into rage, but all he could do was fall back on the bed, his chest heaving with his heavy breathing.

  He’d asked for it. She was just what he wanted, every devilish, delicious inch of her. He had to be crazy, considering what a chase she was going to lead him on for the rest of their lives. Then he chuckled, and before she could evade him again, he had reached out a brawny arm and toppled her onto the bed. Quickly he covered her, parting her legs and taking her. “This is what you get for teasing me,” he said, kissing her hungrily.

  An expression of delight spread across her lovely, exotic face, radiant now with his love. “Really?” she drawled. “Oh, good.”

  * * *

  THE MOONLIGHT SPILLED across the big bed, lighting a room with polished wooden floors covered by a hand-woven rug. The bed was long and wide, big enough to accommodate the length of the man who sprawled in it. Tessa sat up in the bed, folding her arms and resting them on top of her knees, and putting her chin on top of her arms. They had been married only that morning, and Brett had barely given her time to pack before he’d whisked her to Knoxville to catch a plane. She had hugged Aunt Silver and cried, knowing that this time she was truly leaving. Her home would be in Wyoming now, not in Tennessee. Silver had cried, too, until Tom, Brett’s father, had snatched her up in his brawny arms and kissed her until she’d forgotten about crying.

  “Come visit,” he’d growled to the astonished woman in his arms. “I’d love to have you.” His deep voice had given the words another meaning, probably his real meaning, because Tom was a big, hard, battle-scarred old tomcat of a man.

  The flight had been a long one, from Knoxville to Chicago to Denver, then to Cheyenne, and they had flown the last leg of the journey in their own plane. By then Tessa had been exhausted, curled up in her seat sound asleep. Brett had shaken her awake only when the plane was on the ground at the ranch. The drive from the dirt airstrip to the ranch house had been a short one, but she’d been fully awake by the time they reached the house. Brett had carried her inside and straight up to his room, and a grinning Tom had brought their suitcases in.

  “We have a private bathroom,” Brett had said, opening a door off the bedroom. “Are you hungry, or would you rather take a bath and go to bed?”

  Tessa had stretched and yawned. “Why don’t I take a bath, then get something to eat, then go to bed? How does that sound?”

  “Too damned long,” he muttered. He looked longingly at the big bed.

  “Poor baby, are you tired?” she’d purred.

  “No.”

  “Hungry?”

  “Yes.”

  It had been obvious that her man wasn’t concerned with his stomach. She had slowly unbuttoned her blouse and drawn it off, then unhooked her bra and dropped it. “Why don’t you take a shower with me?” she’d suggested innocently. “That would save time.”

  His eyes had narrowed, and his hands had gone to the buttons of his shirt. “I hope you’re not really hungry, darling, because it could be a while before you have dinner. As a matter of fact, we’ll probably have to call it breakfast.”

  “You can take me down for a midnight snack,” she had said, stepping out of her skirt.

  “Deal.”

  Now she really was hungry, and it was long after midnight. His hand touched her back, but she wasn’t startled. Gently his long fingers moved down her spine.

  “I fantasized about this, the first night I made love to you.” His smoky, whiskey-rough voice was low, and it rubbed over her like a caress. “I held you after you’d gone to sleep, and I thought of how it would be to make love to you in this bed, and hold you when the loving was finished. I decided then that I was going to marry you.”

  She turned and went into his arms, rubbing her face into the hair on his chest. “Was it as good as your fantasy?”

  He laughed. “It was better. You were awake this time.”

  “Good enough that you’d like to do it again?”

  “Now, that’s a foolish question if I’ve ever heard one.”

  “There’s a purpose to it. I was about to point out that if you want to keep my strength up, you’re going to have to feed me.”

  “All right, Mrs. Rutland, hint taken.” He got out of bed and pulled on his pants. He began zipping them, then looked up at her as she tried to straighten the tangle of her nightgown. Even in the moonlight he could tell that her lips were sweetly swollen, her hair mussed. She wore the look of a woman in love, and a woman who had been thoroughly loved.

  “I’m glad you’re my wife,” he said simply.

  Tessa discarded the nightgown and made do with her robe, tying the belt securely around her slender waist. “I am, too,” she said, and went into his arms. The horrible, nightmarish week was gone now, in the past where it belonged. She had changed, yes, but so had he. They had both let their barriers down, because there was no room for barriers between them. How could she not trust this man? Not only was her life safe in his hands, but also her love.

  * * * * *

  If you’re looking for romance, sensuality and heart, don’t miss these great titles by NEW YORK TIMES bestselling author

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  ISBN: 9781459291218

  The Cutting Edge

  Copyright © 1985 By Linda Howington

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