“I don’t doubt she intends to make sure of that before she goes anywhere. She may have tried a few times to broach the subject of her plans for the future, but I interrupted her before she could. I don’t want her to go or to turn insistent about it. But I do owe her a full and honest discussion about what she wants to do.” And then Charles gave him a curious look. “You know, I’ve seen how carefree and happy you two can be when you think no one is watching. You get along exceptionally well, considering that you haven’t known each other for very long. It’s almost as if you’ve already formed a bond with Violet. So tell me, is her helping me to recuperate the only reason you think she should stay? Just for me?”
Morgan grinned, only slightly abashed. “I can’t deny I enjoy her company, when we aren’t fighting—hell, even when we are. I surely wouldn’t mind exploring that more fully. So, no, I won’t be happy if she leaves the country.”
“Does she know that?”
Chapter Forty-Two
AS SHE PREPARED FOR bed that night, Violet couldn’t stop smiling. She realized that, like her father, she was looking forward to seeing Morgan’s “peaceful” town. Could it really be so different from bustling, overcrowded, and dangerous Butte? And she would be able to regale her cousins with a description of an authentic American cattle town when she returned to England.
With this unexpected detour to Nashart, it felt as if another weight had been lifted from her shoulders. The misgivings she’d been having about getting on the train with her father weren’t only about his health; they were also about saying good-bye to Morgan. She was dreading that. It had nearly brought her to tears in the dining room tonight.
Yet it wasn’t as if she could marry a man like him, even though he didn’t look like a bear anymore. Before leaving London, she’d picked out the perfect husband. She’d been planning on marrying someone like Lord Elliott Palmer for at least six years, ever since she started talking and dreaming about love and marriage with her cousins. Morgan simply wouldn’t do. He was excitement, passion, wicked pleasures, while Elliott was refined, sophisticated, and everything proper. There was just no comparison—and besides, she was sure Elliott could be exciting, too. There hadn’t been time for her to find out.
She was getting into bed when a knock came at the door, and she pulled the spread off the bed and wrapped it around herself like a robe. It must be her father—hotel employees wouldn’t knock at that hour. So she opened the door wide instead of just a crack.
Morgan must have considered that permission to enter her room, because he did. She stood there with one hand still on the doorknob and the other making sure the spread was covering all of her nightgown. It didn’t help her composure that she’d just been thinking about him.
Before he even turned around to face her, he said, “Your pa pointed out to me that you might not know that I’m partial to you.”
Partial? What a tepid word! He favored her? Was fond of her? Or he just wanted her? But she’d already surmised the latter, because she had those exact same feelings about him. But just because they wanted each other . . .
He turned, their eyes met, and she sucked in her breath. There it was again, that overwhelming attraction that flamed up between them. She forced herself to keep still. She wasn’t going to run to him no matter how much she wanted to. She didn’t have to. In the blink of an eye, he was beside her, his hands on her shoulders, his body pressing in closer, then his mouth. Her back was shoved up against the wall and part of the still-open door, which slammed shut. As he kissed her, he slipped one arm around her waist, lifting her and guiding her right leg up around his hips. She raised her left leg and didn’t hesitate to wrap both around him, or wrap her arms tightly around his neck.
She couldn’t count how many times she’d let such an encounter play through her mind since that momentous night in his cabin, but now that it was actually happening again, she knew her imaginings had lacked the real passion, the explosion of feelings, the want, the need, the heat that were overwhelming her now. She even felt a little frustration that their lovemaking wasn’t happening fast enough, yet at the same time such delight that it was happening at all, despite her warnings and proper disclaimers that it couldn’t.
Her nightgown was hiked to her waist. Having been alone in her room, she had nothing on underneath it. Incredibly, the friction of the rough fabric of his pants pressing between her legs brought her first orgasm while she was still pressed to the wall. She dissolved, her head dropping back, his lips scalding her neck as little gasps escaped her. He carried her like that to the bed, both of them falling down on it in unison so her hold on him didn’t break.
But he was kissing her deeply again, so she didn’t pay much attention to his unbuckling his belt and taking off his pants, or lifting her nightgown, until he stopped kissing her and pulled the thin cotton garment over her head. Her loose hair fanned out behind her. His lips were back on hers, and then he was inside her, thrusting exquisitely, causing gasp after gasp and then no breath at all as the second orgasm rose up and washed over her. He joined her in that one. Sharing it gave her the most sublime feeling.
She didn’t want to move, probably should, but didn’t want to. The bubbly warmth she was feeling inside was worth savoring. He rolled to her side and pulled the sheet up over them. He even gently lifted her long hair and draped it over the top of her pillow for her, then lay down next to her. But when his arm went around her as if he meant to spend the night there, her eyes widened and she rolled out of bed. Fell out would better describe it, but she didn’t hit the floor because she straightened in time. But, realizing she didn’t have a stitch on, she dropped down below the edge of the bed and pulled the sheet her way. When she finally stood up, somewhat covered, she saw he was lying on his side, his head propped up with a hand, and completely naked because she’d just swiped the sheet from him!
She’d done it again, tossed out all thoughts of propriety and rectitude. She was appalled by her behavior once again. She swung around so she couldn’t see him before saying, “Get dressed!”
She heard vague sounds that assured her he was at least putting something on; then he said, “I know that wasn’t supposed to happen again, but it was a mutual impulse, we both loved it. Think about that before you run back to England.”
All she got out of that statement was that he did want to treat her like a wife without offering to make her one. Of course she would refuse, but he could at least ask!
She could hear him walking away. She turned to see he’d only put his pants on and was carrying his shirt and boots. Before he reached the door, she had to make him understand why they couldn’t keep doing this.
In a stiff tone that mimicked the one her aunt used when she gave one of her scolding lectures, she said, “A lady always has a chaperone with her to guard her virtue for this very reason—so things like this don’t happen. Due to unexpected circumstances, mainly my maid’s quitting as soon as we reached America and my brother’s being detained at the train station in Philadelphia, I was forced to travel alone. I thought I could manage, and I was managing—until I met you.”
He didn’t look the least bit contrite when he turned around with a grin. “I can do that. You want me to?”
Her virtue was gone, and she wasn’t sure what he was suggesting, unless . . .”You can’t chaperone me when you are the very thing from which a chaperone is supposed to protect me!”
“Sure I can. I can beat myself up if I have to.”
Now he was just teasing, and amazingly enough, she burst out laughing. Good Lord, exquisite sex and then he made her laugh? There was something good to say about a man like him, after all. But she still pointed a finger toward the door.
“No hugs or cuddles?” he asked with a raised brow.
“Go.”
“At least a kiss good night?”
She rolled her eyes, repeating, “Go!”
But she grinned the moment the door closed behind him. Incorrigible bear.
Chapter Forty-Three