Wild West Christmas Page 9

  Dillen stilled at that. “You just said you picked me because I’m a failure.”

  “No. I picked you because you are the first man who ever needed me for me, not for my family name or my fortune or my connections. You only wanted me. With you I could see a life of purpose, one where I was valued for myself. I knew you cared for me but I was fearful that once you learned about the money you would want that more than you wanted me.”

  “That could never happen.”

  “I know! But that was why I kept it from you. And now I realize that I feared the wrong thing. My wealth has not made you choose me because of it—it has made me lose you because of it.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The men, my suitors. The ones who only wanted me for my fortune. I never let them in, none but you…. I showed you and…I won’t hold back anymore. I want you to know another secret I kept from you then.” It was time to say what she’d never had a chance to tell him before, to be brave enough to put everything on the line and pray it was enough, but still the words stuck in her throat. His eyes held caution as he stared down at her. “It was no game. I fell in love with you, Dillen.”

  “You loved me?”

  She nodded, gazing up at him. “I never stopped loving you, and I need you more now than ever. I should have told you then.”

  “I love you, too, Alice.”

  She gave a little cry and then leaned forward as if to kiss him on the cheek.

  The hell with that, he thought and turned his head, kissing her full on the mouth.

  Her lips met his with the burn of longing and the sweetness of a promise finally fulfilled. She leaned forward until she pressed against his hard muscular body, melding to him. Dillen hesitated just a moment before gathering her up in his arms. At last, she thought, she would show him how she felt.

  Chapter Eleven

  She loved him. And she wanted him. The truth spurred Dillen to near madness. Nothing else mattered. Nothing but Alice.

  He splayed his fingers about her waist, kissing those yielding lips. His body roared with need as he pulled her in. They slipped from the sofa together and onto the bear rug before the fire. She stretched out before him. He eased down beside her, nuzzling her neck as he kissed the shell of her ear. Dillen breathed in her sweet fragrance, growing drunk from the scent. Alice’s proximity worked on him like an opiate. She reached to unbutton his shirt, surprising him with her boldness.

  This woman had always been more than she appeared. She was beautiful. Other men saw it, but she wouldn’t have them because she only wanted him. That truth roared through him with the need.

  Alice slipped her hands to either side of his torso and then upward, kneading the heavy muscles of his chest. For just a moment he had the impression that she was seducing him.

  He released the top button of her blouse and she worked from the bottom until the garment parted like the sea, revealing her pale skin and the sheer camisole that accentuated the slope of her breasts. He used his knuckles to stroke that long inviting slope, finding her skin incredibly soft. Her eyes fluttered closed and she sighed. He kissed her exposed neck and worked down, slipping the straps of her underthings over her shoulders. Alice was naked to the waist. How many lonely nights had he dreamed of this sight? He took just one moment to marvel at her form. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, he realized, and he was the luckiest man. He kissed her collarbone as she gasped and clung to him. He closed over the peak of her breast, drawing and teasing the sensitive flesh with his mouth and tongue. She shuddered and moaned his name, exciting him past all caution. Dillen drew back to blow on the damp skin, watching her nipple draw tighter as she sucked in a breath.

  Her big green eyes snapped open and pinned him. She rose up, turning to face him and slipped one knee between his legs. She rubbed against his aroused flesh and his thoughts turned from her pleasure to his. With an expertise that should have shamed him, he had Alice’s skirts up and her bloomers open. In the past, he had found the slit in the fabric that separated the two legs of a lady’s undergarments more than ample to accomplish his goal, but now he wanted to see her as God made her, and that would require her consent. He patted the pocket of his blue jeans, feeling the square packet of the French preventative made out of vulcanized rubber. He had begun carrying one of the paper envelopes since Alice’s arrival at the ranch. He was a dog, he knew it, and he should be ashamed. But instead he was inspired to be the lover she wanted. God, he’d do anything to please her, anything to make her happy even for just one night. But he cared too much about her to make her suffer. No one would know. Dillen would see that she did not endure the scandal of an unwed mother for her lapse in good judgment where he was concerned.

  He lowered her to the floor, kissing her breasts, and then scaled her one kiss at a time until he reached her mouth. She met him with greedy kisses. The small mewling sounds of desire drove him to distraction. He reached beneath her skirts to release her bloomers, drawing them down and over her stockings and then the carefully laced shoes. Suddenly he wanted to see her feet, feel those heels dig into his back as she urged him on. Dillen slipped his hands up her velvety inner thighs and separated her legs. Alice wrapped her arms about his neck and drew him down for more sweet kisses as his fingers danced over her most private places. She was slippery wet as he toyed with her folds, parting her and titillating her needy, swollen flesh. She arched and clung and called out his name. He hushed her and she nodded her understanding as she glanced to the stairs above where his nephews slept. Alice bit her bottom lip and moaned as he continued to flick and rub and tease.

  He knew he should pull back, withdraw and leave her here, but she was wet and wanting and he had what she needed to satisfy her. Dillen unfastened his buckle and then the rivets holding his jeans closed.

  He watched her face as he released his engorged penis from the denim restraints, fully expecting her to scream or run or skidder backward across the floor. Her rejection was what he needed to turn back.

  But Alice was nothing if not unconventional. Threats and bribes, she had said. Neither worked on her because she was strong willed and knew what she wanted. Even if he questioned her judgment, he admired her tenacity as she reached out for him.

  She enclosed her fingers about him and slid her hand from base to swollen tip. His eyes dropped shut and he groaned. So she did it again, using both hands this time. One of her delicate fingers caressed his balls, making him jump and twitch like a trout on a hook. But this was a hook he never wanted to escape. He cupped his hand over hers and showed her the motion, mimicking the loving rhythm. Then he reached down to find the pocket of his jeans and withdrew the rubber, quickly tugging it from its packet. He captured her hands, drawing them away from his engorged flesh.

  She glanced at the circle of rubber and a tiny line creased her forehead between her brows.

  “Do you know what this is?” he asked.

  “I’ve heard of them. But never seen one.”

  “It will protect you.”

  She smiled and he kissed her mouth. She used her nails to score the flesh of his belly and chest, then dipped to take one of his nipples in her mouth. Sweet Mary, he’d never felt the like. He dropped back to the rug for a moment, savoring the sensations that tingled outward in all directions. Then she drew back and blew, just as he had done. Alice was nothing if not a fast learner.

  He wanted her safe, but he wanted to feel her just once before he sheathed himself in the rubber. He urged Alice back, so they lay side by side. Then he lifted one of her legs over his hips and rolled toward her until her bottom pressed against his groin. Then he slid himself along the long, wet cleft of her slippery folds. Alice nestled closer and pressed her warm, taut bottom against him, increasing the friction. He had not intended to go farther, but she smelled so sweet and her flesh was slick with need. He rolled her to her back and found his place between her spreading legs. Alice stared up at him, her face a contradiction of need and anxiety. He tried for a smile
but feared it was more grimace as he positioned himself to slide home. He started slowly, telling himself to use control, even as he gripped the rubber in his fist that was planted beside her head. He had no restraint where Alice was concerned. She loved him and he loved her. For the moment, that was enough.

  When he felt the resistance he slowed, and then slipped his opposite hand around the back of her neck. The slim column of her throat seemed so pale and her flesh so fragile. He gripped her, held her as he thrust, breaking the membrane that marked her purity. Alice stifled a cry by placing a hand over her own mouth. Her startled eyes stared up at him. He lowered his forehead to hers, and breathed deep of the air scented with woodsmoke, kerosene and Alice.

  “Shh,” he whispered. “It’s your first time. It won’t hurt again. Rest a minute.”

  He needed to pause. Had to rein in the impulse to thrust deep again and again. Dillen gripped the rubber tighter and then slowly withdrew. He was slick with the wetness of her body and streaked with blood. Still, he did as he intended, slipping the rubber over his head and rolling it over his erect flesh.

  “Dillen?” she whispered, her fingers seeking him, reaching down between them and stroking his stomach and chest until he thought he’d go mad.

  He dropped over her, kissing her mouth and then moving to her ear. He kept his mouth on her lovely flesh, wishing the night could last a lifetime and knowing even that would not be long enough.

  Alice began to writhe against him, lifting her hips and making a mewling sound of need. He moved to her breasts again as his fingers danced over her most sensitive places, stroking her thighs and then the flesh between her thighs. Dillen rubbed and thrust and titillated until Alice thrashed and bucked. Only then did he ease back inside her. The rubber helped. He realized that the deadening of sensation was, for him, a very good thing. He thrust quick and smooth, setting a deliberate rhythm as she lifted up to meet each stroke. Still, he kissed her neck and whispered encouragement as his fingers rubbed the tiny nub of sensation between her legs.

  He was getting closer and thought he might need to pull back again, for he was determined that Alice would experience her own climax before he found his. But he did not realize just how near she was. One moment she jolted against him, eager for all he could give and the next she stiffened, arching up and pressing her breasts tight to his chest. He covered her mouth with his, deadening her cries of release. She moaned and her body went slack. He held her close as he thrust again, bringing another cry from her as he reached his own ecstasy. They fell back against the rug as their bodies slackened, his flesh going soft inside her. He gathered himself and the rubber, drawing back. She reached a now-clumsy hand and missed then tried again. Persistent, he thought, and dragged a large sheepskin rug from the ottoman beside the fire, tossing it over them. Alice cuddled against him, and he held her close. He slipped the used rubber into his pocket and let his head fall back on the bearskin.

  “That was wonderful,” she whispered as she stroked the coarse curly hair that covered his chest.

  “Yes.”

  Her breathing deepened. But she muttered against him, “I never knew it would be like this. I thought you loved with your heart. Now I know it’s so much more.”

  He smiled, proud to have given her the gift of a pleasure she had not even known existed.

  They dozed. He woke when she shivered and pulled her close. Dillen opened his eyes to see hers already open.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I think we should get a Christmas tree tomorrow.”

  “Yes?” He drew lazy circles on her shoulder, savoring the feel of her satiny skin.

  “For the boys.” She rolled to her side, slipping one foot up his leg and then down again.

  “Hmm,” he said, changing his stroke to run up and down her spine. Alice was finely made, like his fiddle, all interesting hollows and enticing curves.

  Alice laughed, a sound of pure joy. “I cannot wait to see them on Christmas morning.”

  He stiffened. Alice wasn’t going to be here on Christmas morning. She was going to be with her family in Omaha.

  Alice lifted her chin and gave him a silly, drunken smile.

  What the hell had he just done?

  * * *

  Alice felt the change in his body first. He went from lethargy to tight-coiled muscles without appearing to move. But she perceived it and saw the change in the tense lines bracketing his full mouth.

  “What?” he muttered, pressing a broad hand across his forehead.

  “Christmas morning, the boys. I’m anxious to see them come down those stairs.”

  He sat up, forcing her to do the same. She suddenly became aware of the space between them.

  “You’ll be in Omaha.”

  “Of course not. I’m staying here with you and the boys.”

  “But…” Dillen’s confused expression struck at her like an arrow. He glanced toward his coat and the door as if already planning to leave her again.

  “Dillen. You just told me you loved me. We just…” She covered her mouth as shame burned at her cheeks. What had been the physical embodiment of love to her had been—what?—a lust-filled interlude to him? Alice drew the fleece to her body, hugging it like a pillow as she shook her head.

  He reached out for her, clasping her shoulders. She dropped her chin so that she did not have to see his anxious eyes and worried expression. Whatever he said now, she was certain she would not like it.

  “Alice, this doesn’t change anything. You still need to go back. I still need to find a new job.”

  “And the boys?”

  He didn’t answer, but when she raised her gaze, she saw the pain in his eyes.

  “And then you’ll send for me?”

  She forced herself to look, to witness his rejection. The room seemed suddenly freezing, but not as cold as his words.

  “Those boys need a home and they need a mama. Someone used to hard living and doing without. Alice, you aren’t made for that kind of life. You don’t know how hard it can be.”

  Had he just told her that he planned to marry another woman?

  “You said you loved me.”

  “And I always will. But it doesn’t change what I have to do.”

  “Let me help you, please.”

  “We’ve been over that. Alice, you don’t know what it’s like to have nothing. I hope you never have to find out.”

  “I’d have you. I’d have the boys.”

  He turned away, drawing up his blue jeans and fastening his belt. He’d already decided, already made up his mind before any of this ever happened. And still he took all she had to give. But not her money. Not her help. Those he would never accept.

  “So you’ll send me away? Send the boys to Chicago?”

  “Maybe, if times get lean.”

  He was pulling further and further back, she could feel it, and he hadn’t moved a muscle. She launched herself at him, clinging to his back as she encircled him with her arms. “Then let me take them with me to Omaha.”

  He peeled her away and thrust her crumpled blouse and camisole at her. “Is that what my sister wanted? Did she ask you to raise them or bring them to me?”

  She ignored her clothing and clasped his forearm with both hands. Her voice cracked. “Dillen?”

  “Let me go, Alice.” She didn’t, so he looked away. “Cover yourself.”

  Shame made her cheeks glow with heat. Her fingers slipped from his arm and she accepted the garments, clasping them to herself like a frightened child clutches a favorite blanket.

  He shrugged into his shirt and left it flapping open. Then he stood and retrieved his coat and hat from a peg beside Mr. Harvey’s door.

  “I thought you wanted me,” she whispered.

  “I’ve always wanted you. But it’s not enough, Alice.”

  Dillen stood and headed for the door, pausing only to place his hat on his head and draw on his coat. Then he left her.

  Alice crawled to the couch, still clutching her bl
ouse and underthings as she watched Dillen run away again. The humiliation scalded her skin and burned her throat.

  The pain of his rejection strangled her words, making them a weak whisper. “Wait.”

  But he didn’t even look back as he bolted out the door. A moment later she heard the latch click.

  “Wait,” she whispered, the pain closing her throat.

  She had her answer. Whatever feelings he had, they were not deep enough. It was time for her to accept the truth. He did not want her to stay.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dillen went back to the bunkhouse to find Bill snoring away. He buttoned his shirt, lingering to remember the feel of Alice pressed against him. He washed his face in water so cold the top layer was slush and he added another log to the stove. He hadn’t meant to bang the stove door closed, but he did, and Bill snorted himself awake and launched into his familiar phlegmy cough.

  “Back so soon?” he said.

  “Guess so,” said Dillen.

  “Never took you for a fool.” He rolled to his side. “Until now.”

  Dillen ignored the gibe. It took only a moment to strip out of his jeans and into his long underwear to sleep. But sleep eluded him. Finally he kicked off his blanket, stepped into his clothing, coat and boots. Then he headed out into the cold. He padded through new snow toward the barn, seeking the quiet comfort of the horses. The animals’ gentle breathing and warm, earthy smell always calmed him and helped him think. He shoved his hands in his pockets, finding a used rubber in one and the damned telegram still in the other. He drew out the wire and read it again.

  This time his reaction was not sorrow, but anger. He didn’t want to lose Cody and Colin, and he didn’t think some old woman could do a better job raising Sylvie’s boys than he could. Alice had reminded him that just because his father had been a first-class shit didn’t mean he couldn’t do different. And damned if he wouldn’t. He could do a sight better. Damned if he’d send them off. He’d raise them as his sister had wanted.