“Mama!”
Rebecca’s smile brightened. She closed the distance between them and she accepted the boy, easily, naturally. She kissed him on the cheek, tucked him on her hip, before rustling Dusty’s hair with her hand. “You look mighty fine today.”
“Thank you, Miss Rebecca,” Dusty said.
“Wait until the girls in the schoolhouse get a look at you. They’ll all be begging you to carry their books home.”
Splotches of red colored his cheeks. “Ah, quit it.”
“We best get home,” Cole said, his voice hoarse.
Panic pinched the corners of her mouth. “So soon?”
“We’ve been here six hours.”
“Really, that long. I didn’t notice.”
A twinge of guilt fueled his sour mood but the time had come for them to go home. He didn’t like seeing fear in her eyes. He took her by the elbow and started toward the Shady Grove with the boys in tow. The town cheered them on, hooting and hollering, following them down the street as if no one in White Stone had ever gotten married before.
Cole’s gaze focused on the sway of her hips as she climbed the inn’s front steps. He liked the way she looked a lot.
He scowled. She was a liar, he reminded himself. Couldn’t be trusted.
Tersely, he leaned past her as she reached for the front door, opening it and waiting for her to enter. Doe eyes fluttered up to his, full of surprise at the unexpected courtesy.
Good. Stay off guard, Rebecca, then I can sort out my own emotions.
She brushed past him, the scent of lilacs trailing into the foyer. Dusty stumbled past while Mac, now home and on familiar ground, squirmed to get down.
Rebecca set the child down. “You boys want a snack?”
“The boys have eaten their fill today,” Cole said, his tone brooking no argument. “Dusty and Mac, it’s getting late and time for bed.”
“Ah, come on,” Dusty grumbled. He yawned.
“You need your sleep and so does Mac,” Cole said.
Dusty tossed the bangs off his eyes. “Yeah, well, two weeks ago, I did as I pleased, stayed up as late as I wanted.” He was testing, but there was no real punch to his words.
“Do you really want to go back to that?” Cole demanded.
“I reckon not.”
Cole laid his hand on Dusty’s shoulder. “Your pa’s gone now, Dusty, and like it or not, we’re your family now.”
Dusty rubbed his eyes. “Okay, but do I have to go to bed?”
“Yes.”
“Rats.”
Cole smiled. Dusty was a good kid and he’d grow into a fine man one day. He felt lucky to have the boy in his life. “Let’s get upstairs.”
Rebecca and Cole escorted the boys upstairs. Obviously accustomed to taking care of Mac and Dusty herself, she frowned with surprise when he reached for Mac’s nightshirt at the same time she did. Their fingers touched.
She blushed and moistened her lips. “I’ll get the boys ready for bed.”
He cleared his throat, trying to maintain control of his body. “I said I’d be here to tuck them into bed each night and I will.”
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.”
Rebecca released the nightshirt. She stood by as Dusty changed into his nightclothes and Cole deftly stripped Mac. He grimaced when it came time to change Mac’s diaper.
Rebecca seemed to sense his indecision. She smiled smugly, shooed him out of the way and quickly changed Mac’s wet diaper. She must have changed the boy’s diapers thousands of times in the last two years and her parenting expertise emphasized his own inexperience.
Damn, he’d missed so much of Mac’s life.
Minutes later, Cole leaned against the doorjamb, watching Rebecca as she kissed each boy on the forehead and drew the covers up to their chins.
A knot wrenched in his gut as he stared at her. She looked like a sprite, the soft halo of ringlets framing her face and the ring of blue flowers atop her head. There was a faint blush to her cheeks.
“Perhaps, the boys would like a bedtime story?”
“Tomorrow.”
“But it settles them down.”
“They’ll sleep like the dead tonight.”
“Of course.”
She was White Stone’s very own princess, a beauty coveted by all men who laid eyes on her.
And it struck him then that this fragile woman had the power to crush his heart.
* * *
Rebecca’s heart skipped a beat when she saw Cole leaning against the doorjamb, his hands tucked under his arms. The naked longing in his eyes took her breath away. She summoned all her will just to put one foot in front of the other and walk to him. She wanted this night to be perfect.
Let instinct guide you.
“They’re exhausted,” she whispered.
He nodded, not saying a word as he took her by the hand. His hand was rough and his grip firm as he led her toward her room. She didn’t resist.
Cole tugged her into the bedroom and closed the door behind them with a soft click. She licked her dry lips as he turned and moved toward her, as silent as a cougar.
He cupped her face in his hands. “You are beautiful.” His voice was a hoarse whisper.
Color burned her cheeks. “Thank you.”
He touched the circle of flowers in her hair then drew his callused fingertips down the side of her cheek, sending a thousand shivers dancing down her spine. Cupping her face in his hands, he pressed his lips to hers and devoured her. He tasted of salt and a hint of whiskey.
Rebecca’s body screamed with a lifetime of unsatisfied longings. She never tasted the sweet anticipation other women whispered about until now.
Instinct. Instinct. Instinct.
She stood on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around Cole’s neck and pressed her breasts against his chest. Her nipples hardened into soft peaks and strained against the fabric of her bodice. Liquid heat seared her body.
A growl rumbled from Cole’s chest before he scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed.
The room was dark, except for the red-orange glow of the setting sun streaming through the window. Shadows sharpened the hard lines of Cole’s face, now rigid with desire. He laid her in the center of the soft mattress. The springs creaked when he straddled her. He cupped her breasts with his hands and teased the nipples with his thumbs.
The blood pounding in Rebecca’s body fueled her wanting. She arched toward Cole and slid her hands up his muscular thighs, sending him a silent invitation—an olive branch.
He snaked his fingers through her hair, pulling it free of the pins until it cascaded in a waterfall of curls around her head on the white pillow.
He unfastened the buttons of her bodice, one by one, until he reached her waist. He pushed back the folds of her bodice and stared at the creamy white tops of her breasts cresting over her corset and chemise.
“You’re so beautiful.” He lowered his lips to the soft mounds and kissed the hollow between them. His unshaved chin rubbed against her soft skin, sending shivers of delight through her body. She cupped the back of his head, threading her fingers through his coarse black hair.
Deftly, Cole untied the pink buttons of her chemise then unfastened the hooks of her corset. Her breasts, full and ripe, spilled out for him. He leaned over her, his gaze dark and intent, and suckled her nipples. He took his time tasting her.
Rebecca groaned, arching into him. Desire speared into her womb, making coherent thought impossible.
Cole released one breast and trailed his hand under her skirt, up the inside of her leg. He yanked at the drawstring of her pantaloons. A soft ripping sound rent the air. And then he was touching that most private part of her that pulsed for his touch.
Cole’s long fingers touched her moist flesh, rubbing the nub until she moaned his name over and over again. Her senses teetered close to the edge of a mysterious abyss when he suddenly stopped.
Her eyes flew open. All manner of
pride gone, she pleaded for him to continue. He climbed off the bed, but his gaze still pierced her.
Without speaking a word, he quickly pulled off his boots, shirt and finally his pants. He stood before her for one maddening heartbeat, his manhood proud and erect.
Instinct. Instinct.
She didn’t want to run this time. Her only thoughts were of him inside her, satisfying her growing drumbeat of desire.
Cole climbed on top of her, then he pushed her skirts up to her waist, and pulled her pantaloons down over the tops of her high-buttoned black boots.
A hint of a smile touched Cole’s lips. He needed no further coaxing. He straddled her, pressed his manhood against her tender flesh, then drove into her.
She felt the harlot, making love to him half-dressed, but she didn’t care. She wanted him. Shameless as a fallen dove, she spread her legs for him, inviting him in.
She sucked in a breath through her clenched teeth. Her taut body stretched to accommodate him. He groaned his pleasure as he paused, seemingly savoring the feel of her tight hold on him.
Then he began to move in the ancient rhythm, plunging back and forth inside her. She matched his movements, tilting her pelvis to meet his thrusts.
Sweat beaded on his forehead as he stared down at her.
He bent his head and suckled her breasts as he moved inside her. She whimpered his name over and over again, praying he would release her from this sweet agony.
Finally, after many maddening minutes—or hours—he lowered his hand to her tender flesh and began to rub as he moved inside her.
Her senses exploded like a burst of lightning. She arched her back and sucked her breath in between her clenched teeth.
Cole drove into her with all his strength, filling her and taking her over the edge into sweet oblivion.