A Lady of the West Read online

  She tried to bite him, fighting him as desperate pride had not allowed her to do the first time he had overpowered her in this room. “No you don’t,” he grunted, dumping her on the bed and throwing himself down beside her. He captured her hands in one of his and held them high over her head. “Calm down,” he said sharply. “This can’t be doing the baby any good.”

  Her hair was coming loose with her struggles, straggling across her shoulders. Her face was flushed and her blue eyes were almost throwing off sparks she was so angry. “What the hell do you care?”

  “Such language,” he mocked, wrestling her down when she almost succeeded in throwing herself off the side of the bed. When he had her secured, with her legs pinned by his and her arms once more anchored over her head, he used his free hand to search around her waist until he found the fastening of her skirt and opened it. The tapes of her petticoats didn’t present much of a problem. He began shoving the garments down over her hips and thighs.

  She made an explosive sound of rage and once again tried to sink her teeth into the muscled arm that stretched over her head, holding both of her arms captive. He laughed and jerked it out of reach of her teeth without even loosening his grip. His green eyes were very bright.

  “Why don’t you go to your precious whore?” she shouted.

  “Because I’d rather be with you,” he replied, not allowing her to make him angry. He buried his head in the soft curve between her neck and shoulder, inhaling her wonderfully sweet scent. It had haunted his nights, when he would wake up from erotic dreams and reach across the bed to gather her close, only to find it empty.

  “I don’t want to be with you,” she said from between clenched teeth.

  “You will,” he promised, stroking his hand over her belly and breasts. “Remember the first time? You didn’t want to be with me then, either, but you changed your mind. Haven’t you missed me at all, sweetheart? Here? And here?” His wandering hand first touched her tender breasts, but lightly, so as not to cause her any discomfort, then down to her thighs. They were clamped together, but he still managed to slide one finger between them and find the open slit of her drawers. Inside was hot, damp flesh, and a shudder rocked him as he gently explored.

  “No.” The word was strangled. She turned her head to the side, away from him. “Please.”

  “You know I’ll please you,” he murmured, removing his finger to shove her skirt and petticoats completely off. Without their concealing bulk, her slender body was clearly outlined by the form-fitting shirtwaist blouse, shift, and the thin cotton drawers that clung to her thighs. She had very pretty legs, slim and well-formed. Her white stockings were held in place by plain white garters. He’d seen black lace garters and sheer silk stockings that hadn’t excited him nearly as much.

  Using the toe of his boot, he scraped her soft, flat-heeled slippers off of her feet and kicked them from the bed. “Don’t want you getting the bedcovers dirty.”

  She didn’t take kindly to the gentle teasing. “You’ve still got your boots on, you jackass!” She Was seething, steam practically rising from her. He laughed low, inordinately amused at his very proper wife cursing at him.

  “I’ll take them off if you want me to,” he offered.

  “No!”

  “Damn, you’re a hard woman to please. Guess you’re lucky that I’m a hard man.”

  She had no doubt what he meant, and if she had had one of her arms free she would have slapped him again. She was tiring rapidly; she hadn’t recovered her strength from the long weeks of almost constant nausea. Devoutly, and without result, she prayed for one of the sickening bouts now.

  She gathered her fading strength for one last desperate attempt at escape, tensing her muscles and surging wildly. He controlled her without effort, and Victoria was forced to the galling knowledge that there was nothing she could do. Hot, bitter tears slid down her cheeks, and she turned her head away as her body went limp.

  “Don’t cry, honey.” Like the predator he was, he sensed her capitulation, and his voice was low and comforting. He released her arms, knowing she no longer had the strength to fight. “I ’m sorry I didn’t believe you, but it’s over now. Let me make it up to you. It’s been a long time since we’ve done this; haven’t you missed it? Don’t you remember how good I made you feel?”

  She drew a deep, shuddering breath, fighting for control. “I remember everything you made me feel.” Her voice was thick with tears.

  He knew what she meant. He paused, his face tightening as the guilt over the pain he’d caused her almost overwhelmed him. Then he wiped the tears from her cheeks with his callused thumb. “Then hate me for it, but by God it won’t make any difference. You’re my wife, and your place is here with me.”

  She was tired, her muscles shaking. It was useless to fight him. She closed her eyes.

  He rolled her to the side and unbuttoned her shirtwaist, then pulled it down her arms and tossed it aside. The shift went next, and she lay with her arms motionless, making no effort to cover her breasts.

  The differences in them excited him. They were larger, firmer, readying themselves even now for the milk that would feed his baby. Her little nipples had darkened and seemed distended. He paused to remove his boots and shirt, his eyes never leaving her breasts. Without touching her anywhere else, he leaned over and lightly circled a pouting nipple with his tongue.

  She gasped, her body arching. The touch of his hot tongue burned, and the heat gathered and pooled in her lower body. Her breasts became almost unbearably tight, just from that light touch. They were so sensitive that she almost burst into tears again, unable to decide if this was ecstasy or agony.

  His breath washed over her wet flesh, making it tingle even more. He moved to the other nipple and subjected it to the same light, exquisitely gentle washing by his tongue. She trembled, fighting the blinding heat. Her hands gripped the sheet beneath her, twisting. No, no, she cried silently, he had to stop, she couldn’t bear it—

  With acute attention to her tender state, he sucked the nipple into his mouth and applied the lightest pressure.

  A strangled sob tore from her throat, no longer in protest. Her hips lifted.

  His hand went between her legs, and this time they parted easily. He rubbed lightly at her soft, exposed flesh, then slipped his finger into her. His memory of her tightness had tormented him, but he was amazed anew at how small her passage was. Sweat glistened on his naked torso.

  “Do you remember, the time in the study?” he murmured, kissing her neck. “We were in too much of a hurry to take your drawers off, and I tore them so I could get at you better.”

  She moaned, her body twisting on his impaling finger. She opened her eyes but the lids were heavy, and her lashes fluttered. “Jake.”

  The sound of his name, uttered in that thick, helpless, wanting tone, made his heart leap. She was his. She was no longer fighting, no longer even thinking. Her hips lifted again.

  He kissed her mouth, his tongue plunging deep. It was too late again to pull off her drawers. He tore the seam open, sliding down to explore the secrets revealed. Her woman’s flesh was deep pink and glistening; he pressed his mouth to her in a deep, avid kiss, needing her taste, needing all of her secrets. She screamed, the sound muffled by the pillow she pulled over her face, and her cotton-clad thighs tightened convulsively around his head. He prised them open again, and held them wide. His tongue darted and dipped and circled, and continued as he felt the deep shudders begin. Her heels dug into the bed, both of her hands clenched in his hair, and she cried out again.

  When it was over, her legs fell weakly open. She lay with her eyes closed and her breasts shining with a fine mist of perspiration, her chest heaving up and down as she fought for breath. He tore at the tapes holding the ruined garment about her waist, and stripped it away, then attacked his own belt and pants. Naked, he mounted her, and her eyes flared open at his slow, inexorable penetration.

  She had almost forgotten the overpowering sensation of