Texas Rose

chapter 16

Evie stared at the flowers in her bedroom through tear-misted eyes. She wasn't much of a gardener and wasn't certain of the proper names for everything, but the riot of color struck her with sobs that could have been joy had the circumstances been different.

A giant bouquet of paper roses adorned the old oak dresser. Entire branches of real lilac were strewn across the bed, filling the air with heavenly scents. Green stalks topped by dancing yellow heads filled the water pitcher. Branches covered in pink occupied her sitting chair. She hadn't thought the entire town had held that much color. Obviously, it didn't any longer. Tyler must have robbed every garden in the territory, and maybe a cemetery or two. She didn't know where he'd found the paper roses.

Tears were rolling down Evie's cheeks when Tyler entered. She didn't look at him, just stood there clasping her elbows and shaking with sobs. He glanced around to better examine his handiwork in the light of the one lamp he had lit earlier.

The easel and canvas he had glimpsed once were stored away, as were the books and other niceties that Evie liked to travel with. The towering stack of trunks told their story. She had meant to move out of this room.

He didn't want to know what that meant. He came up behind her, but he was afraid to touch her. He'd thought the flowers would add a festive touch for a less than festive occasion, but he hadn't expected floods of tears. Not from Evie. He was afraid she would crumble if he touched her.

"The stores were closed. I couldn't buy a wedding gift," he offered tentatively. He'd never really had to court a woman before, and Tyler felt awkward at the business. Had she been anyone but Evie, he could have her out of her gown and on the bed within minutes. But Evie had every reason to despise him and what would happen on that bed. It put a man in a damned awkward position.

Evie dashed at her tears with the back of her hand. "They're lovely. I wish I knew what they were all called. I'd like to have a garden someday with all of them in it."

"Roses, lilacs, Easter flowers, and I don't know what they call the pink things, but I can find out. It's a good thing they don't hang a man for flower theft around here, or you'd be a widow tomorrow." He tried the light touch, but it didn't sound so light after he said it.

Evie nodded hesitantly. "It would be very confusing to be twice widowed and never married. I guess it's a good thing you won't hang."

The laughter wasn't there, but at least she was making jokes. Tyler allowed himself a small breath of relief as he loosened his tie. The Evie he knew wasn't overly inclined to tears. That must be the effect of pregnancy. Already, she was starting to bounce back. They would have to learn to make the best of a bad situation.

"I guess the live ones ought to go in water. I don't suppose that collection of trunks has vases?"

"The top one has the china," Evie answered vaguely, her gaze traveling to the flower-filled water pitcher. She would have to wash and prepare herself for bed. How could she do it with Tyler in the room? She didn't think stringing a sheet across the room worked with a husband.

Tyler reached for the trunk. "Take the Easter flowers out of the water pitcher. I've ordered up hot water. You can go behind the dressing screen to get ready while I dig out your china."

She watched worriedly as he lifted the smallest trunk from the stack, but he handled it with care. A knock at the door sent her scurrying for the screen. She didn't want anyone to see her right now. It was as if the whole world knew she was newly married and could see in their heads what was about to happen to her. Or she thought would happen to her. Tyler hadn't touched her. Maybe he would leave her alone.

She really didn't think he would, but Evie clung to the notion as Tyler moved around the room while she cautiously unfastened her shirtwaist. He handed a pitcher of steaming water around the dressing screen, and it looked inviting enough to encourage her to wash. She had heard of marriages of convenience. Perhaps that was what Tyler intended. She felt better just imagining it.

As she washed, Evie threw a dubious look at the high- necked linen nightgown she usually wore to bed. She wasn't at all certain that she could step out from behind the screen wearing that. Perhaps she ought to keep on her chemise and corset and pantalets. Sleeping in a corset sounded highly uncomfortable, but to allow herself to be unfettered beneath a thin piece of linen seemed a wanton thing to do in Tyler's presence.

She compromised and wore just the chemise and pantalets beneath the gown. It was going to be infernally warm that way, but she couldn't just go about practically naked.

Emerging from behind the screen, she saw Tyler had stuck the flowers in china teapots and crystal vases and laid them in gravy bowls. He had unfastened his tie and thrown off his coat and waited in shirtsleeves with his hands characteristically shoved in his pockets as he leaned against the door. His gaze drifted over the loose linen of her long gown, then came back up to meet hers.

The disappointment she had first thought she'd seen in his eyes was carefully replaced now by a neutral expression.

"You're going to be warm in all that gear. I won't object if you want to make yourself a little more comfortable while I wash." Unfastening his shirt as he went, Tyler disappeared behind the screen.

He was good, too good. Without giving an order or voicing a protest, he had told her that he didn't want her wearing all these clothes. He had also shattered her brief illusion. Cheeks flushing, Evie stood in the middle of the braided rug and tried to decide what to do next. She didn't want to wear all this gear, either, but she remembered all too clearly what Tyler could do if she didn't. To take it off would make it seem as if she wanted him to do that again.

She didn't. What they had done had been dirty, painful, and embarrassing beyond recall. There had been blood and stickiness. They had behaved like animals. He needed to be reminded that she was a lady. And since she was already pregnant, what was the purpose of repeating the act? Perhaps she wouldn't have to.

Relieved by that thought, Evie climbed into bed. It wasn't exactly a romantic marriage bed. The iron bars had been painted a white that had yellowed with age. She had left her own linens on it, however, and she was grateful for that. It seemed more civilized to sleep on linens embroidered with her initials and edged in lace.

Her initials. Evie glanced worriedly at the EPH neatly scrolled in antique white embroidery thread on each pillowcase. What would she tell Tyler if he asked about the H?

Her stomach tensed again as she heard the unmistakable sounds of water splashing from behind the screen. Was Tyler standing there with all his clothes off? What if an intruder came in and she screamed right now?

That irrepressible thought sent Evie off into a fit of giggles she tried to muffle in her pillow. This was the most awful night of her life, and she was laughing at the thought of the grand Tyler Monteigne rushing into the room stark naked and carrying a six-gun. She must be losing her mind.

Stripping off his pants to bathe, Tyler heard her giggles and felt a sudden quenching of his ardor. The sound of giggles in the boudoir could have that effect on a man, he reflected as he scrubbed at his face and wished he had his razor. What in hell could the little witch find to laugh about at this hour? He half expected to walk out and find her waiting with a shotgun.

The thought of emerging from behind the screen presented certain other problems. Whatever else she might be, Evie was a lady who knew nothing of the physical side of men except what little he had forced on her. She would most likely go into shock should he walk out in his birthday suit as he was inclined to do. If she was already waxing hysterical, he couldn't afford to send her over the brink.

There was no doubt in Tyler's mind what he meant to do with his wedding night. A man had only one wedding night, and he was meant to enjoy it. He wasn't accustomed to the long drought from feminine companionship he had endured since being dragged here, and he was looking forward to a little relief. On the morrow he would be confronted with the responsibilities he had shackled himself to, but not tonight. Tonight he meant to teach one Evie Maryellen Peyton Monteigne what it meant to make love. With any luck, there would be a permanent end to that drought. Marriage had at least one advantage.

Remembering the glimpses he'd had of firm white breasts and slender curves and long legs, Tyler felt a surge of desire so strong that he stared at himself with incredulity. Evie would jump out of her skin if he entered their bed looking like this. Regretfully, he reached for the lamp and blew it out. He would have to save the looking part until morning, when she'd had time to get used to the marriage bed. At least this way, he could leave his clothes off.

Evie clutched the top sheet, pulling it up to her neck when he crossed to the bed. "Tyler." There was a question and a warning in her voice.

Tyler threw back the quilt but left her the sheet as he climbed in next to her. The bed sagged beneath his weight.

"Tyler, I don't want..." She bit back a gasp as he captured her waist, and pulled her against his bare chest. "I mean, if I'm already pregnant..."

"Hush." He closed his mouth over hers, wide-open and demanding.

Evie gasped as Tyler's tongue plunged between her teeth. A flickering of the pleasure she recalled from before prevented her from jerking away. The questing touch of strong fingers against the side of her breast made her moan in despair.

She remembered this part all too well. Her toes tingled. The tips of her breasts grew tight and painful waiting for him to find them. The sensation grew stronger and moved downward as his tongue plundered and did sweet things to her mouth. She didn't know how to respond, but Tyler didn't seem to care. He was decimating all her defenses very effectively without her help.

His hand slipped inside the gown he had somehow unfastened already. He cursed against her mouth at encountering another barrier. He halted his kisses to raise himself over her, and Evie wondered what expression was on his face.

"From now on, I don't want you wearing anything in bed. I can keep you warm, so you don't need this folderol. Help me get it off of you."

Evie surprised herself by lifting her hips so Tyler could pull the nightgown up, then lifting her arms so he could pull it over her head. He rewarded her with a kiss that sent more than her toes tingling, and she was reluctant to remove her lips from his when he reached for the edge of her chemise. Obligingly, Tyler held her mouth captive as he rolled the thin cloth upward, until her breasts were bare to the damp night air.

Evie emitted a kitten's mew as his fingers plucked her nipple. Tyler touched his tongue to this responsive tissue, and she literally jumped in his arms. Within seconds, the chemise lay tangled somewhere among the sheets, and Tyler's kisses moved unhampered over her skin.

Evie dug her fingers into his hard shoulders in a vague attempt to halt this assault on her senses, but even this grip bombarded her with strange sensations. He wore nothing, and her fingers dug into hot, smooth skin and taut muscle. Instead of pushing him away, her hands clung there, smoothing the rippling muscle as he bent over her, riding downward as he lifted his head to tease her lips with kisses. She didn't dare go farther than his waist, but even that held a strange fascination t. He was narrow there, but she could feel the cords of muscle jerking at her touch. She liked knowing he was responding to her.

She didn't like it when she felt Tyler's hands pulling at the drawstrings of her pantalets. She tensed, and this time, she did pull away. Tyler kissed her again, murmuring soothing phrases, but she was too terrified to respond. She knew what would happen when he had her undressed.

He loosened the strings but didn't immediately pull the fabric away. Instead, he bent his head to suckle at her breast until Evie was whimpering for more, while his hand stroked her abdomen and then moved lower.

She didn't want to feel this way. She didn't want to feel every nerve end drawn to the man hovering over her. But she was awash with heat and desperate for his kisses and her skin craved his touch as if it were a balm to all her fears. When Tyler's hand slid inside her pantalets, the craving went with it, centering where she didn't want it the most.

"I'm going to make love to you, Evie," Tyler whispered as he nibbled his way to her ear. "I'm going to put myself inside you and make you my wife and show you how much pleasure there can be in this. Tell me you'll let me show you, Evie. I won't hurt you again."

She was even ready to accept the pain again. His words were an incitement as surely as the fingers now touching her where she had been afraid to touch herself. Evie bit back a cry as Tyler's fingers entered her, but his mouth was smothering hers, swallowing all the cries and whimpers, taking her response and giving it back to her in the magic of his fingers.

She was weeping for more by the time he rolled the linen off her hips. His kisses moved inexorably downward, pressing her breasts, roaming lower, while his hands played along her thighs, pushing away the hampering material until nothing lay between them but the air and their need. When Tyler touched her again, Evie nearly rose from the bed.

She shuddered as Tyler tenderly parted her legs and bent them so she could receive him more easily. She shuddered. She didn't want him to do this, but she didn't want him to stop either. She felt hollow and scared, and the pleasant sensations were rapidly receding as Tyler moved between her legs and she felt he hot iron-like rod brushing against her.

But Tyler teased at her lips again, parting them with his tongue, inciting her to match his movements until she was writhing with hunger. His hands circled both of her breasts, caressing, kneading, tantalizing the tips until Evie cried for more and raised her hips to the rhythm he created.

Gently caressing, he slid his hands to her buttocks, lifted, and shoved into her. He caught her cry with his mouth, held himself still while she adjusted, and moved slowly when she shuddered with the need. She was too tight for him to fit easily, too scared to encourage him, but he seemed to understand. He moved gently, until she began to respond, and he kissed her.

Evie couldn't believe he was doing this to her. She couldn't believe she was letting him. The intimacy was incredible, overwhelming, but she didn't even know this man. She had a stranger's body inside hers, filling her until she felt stretched at the seams, retreating until she grabbed his shoulders and asked for more. She couldn't bear it when he withdrew. Her hips followed his, and he began moving faster.

This was Tyler Monteigne, the gambler, the ladies' man. He was using her as he had used countless other women, and she was letting him. She was more than letting him. She was wrapping her legs around him, raising herself to him, and begging and crying for more as he plunged in and out until her head spun with desire and her body was out of control and there was nothing more to this world than their two bodies joined as one.

He gave a harsh cry and drove deep inside, but even as his body rocked into hers, his hand slid between them to caress the aching bud there. The unutterable pressure in Evie's womb gave way to uncontrollable quakes of pleasure beneath his expert touch. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she clung to him, tightening around him while he buried himself deep and exploded beneath her touch.

It hadn't hurt, and it had been more pleasurable than Evie had ever imagined. Why then, did she feel such terror when Tyler kissed her and moved inside her again?

"You're my wife now, Evie," he whispered against he ear. "You're mother of my child."

Just the words enhanced her terror.

"When are you going to stop lying to me?" he demanded.

His eyes seemed to glow golden in the darkness above her, and Evie had all she could do to keep from screaming as she felt that man part of him stir to life within her again.

He wouldn't stop until she told him. She didn't know if she ever wanted him to stop.