What excitement?
Or was she spoiled to believe that she deserved a better life than this? An airship pilot was a dream for children…
She found herself backing toward the door of the shop.
"May I—I think I need to speak with my friend, first," she demurred.
"Alright," the woman said amiably. "A needle will be here for you when you're ready."
Mariel thanked the woman for her kindness before swiftly leaving the shop.
She headed straight for the fort's best inn, where Clay had booked them a room. Ignoring the busy common area, she hurried to their room and let herself in. She pressed her back to the door and smiled a little sadly at Clay, who was napping on their bed.
As quietly as she could, she removed her shoes and the dress—one of several that Clay had purchased for her as promised—and carefully climbed onto the mattress. She stretched out beside him and laid a hand on his chest. The steady rise and fall of his ribcage and the warmth radiating from his body calmed her.
"What's wrong, beautiful lady?" he murmured without opening his eyes.
He rolled onto his side and gently pulled her up against him. Away from the dusty trail, he no longer smelled of horse and sweat. In fact, she loved smelling his masculine scent and had protested when he'd suggested she might like him better in cologne. He was perfect as was. He'd been perfect when he was dirty.
She kissed him. "Nothing's wrong. I'm fine."
The whiskey brown eyes opened then, and they missed nothing. "You're upset."
"More like concerned."
He frowned, fully awake now. "About what?"
"About my purpose. What I'm going to do from now on." She plucked restlessly at a button on his shirt. "I went looking for employment. The options are less than inspiring, Clay. They're what I could have done back home in Willowtown."
"We'll go to the airship docks and see if they're taking on apprentice pilots."
"I went yesterday. They kindly asked me to leave, said it was too dangerous for a woman to be so near the ships."
Clay sat up, anger filling his handsome face. "They said what? Well, I'll—"
Mariel gently pushed him back down. "I don't need you to fight my battles, Marshal."
"Former Marshal," he muttered. He urged her to lie atop him and then studied her face. "I want you to be happy, Mariel. No matter what that takes or who I need to give a whoopin' to."
She smiled and turned to nuzzle his palm when he caressed her face. "I know you do. You treat me better than anyone ever has. But this is something I need to work out on my own. No one can find my purpose except me."
"But you're not content. Are you?"
"I love being with you, Clay," she stated clearly. "And I don't want to go back to Willowtown."
"That's not what I asked, darlin'," he murmured, and kissed her before she could respond.
He gently rolled them on the bed so he was above her. His strong, sure hands quickly divested them both of their clothing. The sun came through the curtains but Mariel didn't feel self-conscious about being with Clay in the daylight. Any opportunity to be this close to him was one to be cherished.
With no pressing concerns weighing them down, Clay could take his time making love to her. It was the kind of intimacy Mariel had thought she would experience with her husband, but she received it now from this man, who focused his attention on her pleasure and satisfaction to the exclusion of all else.
Each kiss from him made her melt deeper into the bed. Each tender stroke of his fingers sent shivers racing along her skin. He kissed her with sweetness and later, with a command that made her moan. When he penetrated her body, he slid all the way into her heart.
For the rest of the afternoon they feasted on each other. Once they were sated, Clay suggested they enjoy a nice evening out.
"But you've spent so much on me already, Clay," she protested.
He pressed a finger to her lips. "It's the reward I receive for winning the attention of such a lovely lady. Don't deny me your beautiful presence, Mariel. I live to make these other men jealous." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Wear the red one. I adore you in that one."
So she wore it, and she couldn't deny that she felt like a queen on Clay's arm because he treated her like one. As a couple, they drew other peoples' admiration. She preened a bit, but in truth her pride was over having such a handsome, caring man escorting her. What more could she ask for?