Duncan's Bride

  “Christine, this is Reese Duncan. Reese, my best friend, Christine Rizzotto.”

  Reese gave Christine a half smile and touched his fingers to the brim of his hat. “I’m pleased to meet you, ma’am.”

  She was still ogling him, but she managed a weak, “And you, Mr. Duncan.”

  He picked up two of Madelyn’s suitcases, nodded to Christine, and carried them out. Christine’s breath escaped her with a whoosh. “That man is…is potent,” she half gasped. “Now I understand.”

  Madelyn knew how she felt, and fingered the string of pearls around her neck. The nervousness was coming back.

  Robert’s pale eyes were cool when he was introduced to Reese, which bothered Reese not at all. They were polite to each other. Madelyn hadn’t hoped for anything more. Their personalities were both too strong to allow for easy companionship.

  It wasn’t until everyone had checked out that she realized what he had said and turned to him in bewilderment. “You said you’d put the suitcases in the car. You don’t have a car.”

  “I do now. You’ll need something to drive when I have the truck out on the range. It isn’t new, but it’s dependable.”

  She was overwhelmed, and her throat tightened. It was a white Ford station wagon, a useful vehicle on a working ranch. She’d had a car while she’d been in college in Virginia, but that had been years ago, and she hadn’t had any need for one in the city. With money so tight for Reese, this was a big gesture for him to make. If she had thought about it she would have bought her own car, but she hadn’t.

  The judge was waiting for them in his chambers. Madelyn opened her purse and got out the ring she’d bought for Reese, slipping it on her finger and closing her hand into a fist to keep it on. The judge saw her do it, and smiled. Christine took her purse from her, and after clearing his throat twice, the judge began.

  Her hands were cold. Reese held her left one, folding his hard, warm fingers over hers to share his body heat with her, and when he felt her shaking he put his arm around her waist. He repeated the vows, his dark-textured voice steady. She learned that Gideon was his first name, something she hadn’t known before and hadn’t gotten around to asking. When it was her turn, she was surprised to hear her own vows repeated just as evenly. He slipped a plain gold band on her finger, and the judge smoothly continued, having seen Madelyn take out Reese’s ring. Reese started with surprise when the judge did the ring ceremony again, and Madelyn slid a gold band over his knuckle. It was a plain band, like hers, but he hadn’t expected a ring. He hadn’t worn one before. The wedding band looked odd on his hand, a thin ring of gold signaling that he was now a married man.

  Then he kissed her. It was just a light touch of the lips, lingering only a moment, because he didn’t want to start kissing her now. He was under control, and he wanted it to stay that way. It was done. They were married.

  Madelyn was quiet as they drove Robert and Christine back to the airport. Their flight was already being called, so they didn’t have time to do more than hug her fiercely. Reese shook Robert’s hand, and a very male look passed between the two men. Madelyn blinked back tears as both Christine and Robert turned back to wave just before they disappeared from view.

  They were alone. Reese kept his arm clamped around her waist as they walked back to the car. “You look like you’re about to collapse,” he growled.

  She felt light-headed. “I may. I’ve never been married before. It’s a nerve-racking business.”

  He put her in the car. “Have you had anything to eat today?”

  She shook her head.

  He was cursing when he slid under the steering wheel. “No wonder you’re so shaky. We’ll stop and get something.”

  “Not just yet, please. We can stop closer to home. I’m still too nervous right now to eat anything.”

  In the end, they wound up driving straight to the ranch. Reese carried her suitcases up to his bedroom. “There’s a big walk-in closet,” he said, opening the door to show her the enormous closet, as big as a small room. “But don’t start unpacking now. You need to eat first.”

  She gestured to her clothes. “I’ll have to change before I start cooking.”

  “I’ll do the cooking,” he said sharply.

  There wasn’t much cooking to it, just soup and sandwiches. Madelyn forced herself to eat half a sandwich and a bowl of soup. It all seemed so unreal. She was married. This was her home now.

  Reese went upstairs and changed into his work clothes. Wedding day or no, the chores had to be done. Madelyn cleaned up the kitchen, then went upstairs and began hanging up her new clothes. His bedroom was much larger than the one she had slept in before, with a big private bath that included both bathtub and shower. The bed was king-size. She thought of lying in that bed with him and felt herself get dizzy. It was already late afternoon.

  She was in the kitchen again, dressed more appropriately this time in jeans and a short-sleeved sweater, when he came in tired and dirty. “Are you hungry again?” she asked. “I can do something fast while you’re showering.”

  “Just more sandwiches tonight,” he said. “I’m not much interested in food right now.” He was unbuttoning his shirt as he went up the stairs.

  She made the sandwiches and sat at the table with him, drinking a glass of milk while he ate. She had never thought about how much a hard-working man needed to eat, but she could see she would have to cook twice the amount she had imagined.

  “I have some paperwork to do,” he said when he’d finished and carried his plate to the sink. “It won’t take me long.”

  She understood. After she’d washed the few dishes, she went upstairs and took a bath. She had just left the bathroom, her skin flushed from the damp heat, when he entered the bedroom.

  She stopped, biting her lip at the searing look he gave her from her tumbled hair down to her bare toes, as if he could see through her white cotton gown. He sat down on the bed and took off his boots, then stood and tugged his shirt free. His eyes never left her as he unbuttoned the shirt and took it off.

  His chest was tanned and muscled and covered with curly black hair. The smooth skin of his shoulders gleamed as he unbuckled his belt and began unfastening his jeans.

  Madelyn drew a deep breath and lifted her head. “There’s something you need to know.”

  He paused, his eyes narrowing. She was standing ramrod straight, her pale hair swirling around her shoulders and down her back. That loose, sleeveless gown wasn’t anything like the sheer silk confection April had worn, but Madelyn didn’t need silk to be seductive. The shadow of her nipples pressing against the white cotton was seduction enough. What could she have to tell him that was keeping her strung as tight as fence wire?

  He said softly, “Don’t tell me you’ve decided to wait another couple of nights, because I’m not going for it. Why are you so nervous?”

  She gestured at the bed. “I’ve never done this before.”

  He couldn’t have heard right. Stunned, he released his zipper. “You’ve never had sex before?”

  “No, and to be honest, I’m not really looking forward to it. I want you and I want to be intimate with you, but I don’t expect to enjoy the first time.” Her gaze was very direct.

  An odd kind of anger shook him. “Damn it, Maddie, if you’re a virgin why didn’t you say so, instead of having that damn physical?”

  She looked like a haughty queen. “For one thing, we weren’t married before. Until you became my husband this morning it wasn’t any of your business. For another, you wouldn’t have believed me. You believe me now because there’s no reason for me to lie when you’ll find out the truth for yourself in a few minutes.” She spoke with cool dignity, her head high.

  “We were planning to get married.”

  “And it could have been called off.”

  Reese stared silently at her. Part of him was stunned and elated. No other man had ever had her; she was completely his. He was selfish enough, male enough, primitive enough, to be glad t
he penetration of her maidenhead would be his right. But part of him was disappointed, because this ruled out the night of hungry lovemaking he’d planned; he would have to be a total bastard to be that insensitive to her. She would be too sore and tender for extended loving.

  Maybe this was for the best. He’d take her as gently as possible, but he wouldn’t, couldn’t, lose his control with her. He wouldn’t let himself drown in her; he would simply consummate the marriage as swiftly and easily as he could and preserve the distance between them. He didn’t want to give in completely to the fierce desire in him, he just wanted to ease himself and keep her in the slot he’d assigned to her. He wanted her too much; she was a threat to him in every way he’d sworn a woman would never be again. As long as he could keep his passion for her under control she wouldn’t be able to breach his defenses, so he would allow himself only a simple mating. He wouldn’t linger over her, feast on her, as he wanted to do.

  Madelyn forced herself not to tremble when he walked over to her. It had been nothing less than the bald truth when she’d said she wasn’t looking forward to this first time. Romantically, she wanted a night of rapture. Realistically, she expected much less. All they had shared was one kiss, and Reese was sexually frustrated, his control stretched to the limit. She was going to open her body to a stranger, and she couldn’t help being apprehensive.

  He saw the almost imperceptible way she braced herself as he came near, and he slid his hand into her hair. “You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmured. “I’m not going to jump on you like a bull.” He tilted her head up so she had to look at him. His eyes were greener than she’d ever seen them before. “I can make it good for you, baby.”

  She swallowed. “I’d rather you didn’t try, I think, not this time. I’m too nervous, and it might not work, and then I’d be disappointed. Just do it and get it over with.”

  A faint smile touched his lips. “That’s the last thing a woman should ever say to a man.” It was also a measure of her fear. “The slower I am, the better it will be for you.”

  “Unless I have a nervous breakdown in the middle of it.”

  She wasn’t joking. He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip, feeling the softness of it. It was beginning to make sense. A woman who reached the age of twenty-eight still a virgin had to have a strong sense of reserve about being intimate with a man. The way she’d kissed him had set him on fire, but this final step wasn’t one she took easily. She preferred to gradually get used to this powerful new intimacy, rather than throw herself totally into the experience expecting stars and fireworks.

  He picked her up and put her on the bed, then turned out all the lights except for one lamp. Madelyn would have preferred total darkness but didn’t say anything. She couldn’t stop staring when he stripped off his jeans and got into bed with her. She had seen male nudity before: babies and little boys, men in clinical magazines. She knew how the male body functioned. But she had never before seen a fully aroused man, and Reese was definitely that. She lost her hope for nothing worse than discomfort.

  He was a big man. He leaned over her, and she felt totally dwarfed by the width of his chest and shoulders, the muscled power of his body. She could barely breathe, her lungs pumping desperately for quick, shallow gasps. By her own will and actions she had brought herself to this, placed herself in bed with a man she didn’t know.

  He slid his hand under her nightgown and up her thigh, his hard, warm palm shocking on her bare skin. The nightgown was pulled upward by his action, steadily baring more and more of her body until the gown was around her waist and she lay exposed to him. She closed her eyes tightly, wondering if she could go through with this.

  He pulled the nightgown completely off. She shivered as she felt him against every inch of her bare body. “It won’t be horrible,” he murmured as he brushed her lips in a gentle kiss. “I’ll make certain of it.” Then she felt him close his mouth on her nipple, and the incredible heat and pressure made her moan. She kept her eyes closed as he stroked and fondled her body until gradually the tension eased and she was pliable under his hands.

  Her senses couldn’t reach fever pitch. She was too tired and nervous. He slid his hand between her legs and she jumped, her body tensing again even though she parted her thighs and allowed him the intimacy. His long fingers gently parted and stroked, probed to find both the degree of her readiness and the strength of her virginity. When his finger slid into her she flinched and turned her head against his shoulder.

  “Shh, it’s all right,” he murmured soothingly. He stretched to reach the bedside table and opened the top drawer to retrieve the tube of lubricant he had put in there earlier. She flinched again at the cool slickness of it as his finger entered her once more and moved gently back and forth.

  Her heart was slamming so hard against her ribs that she thought she might be sick. He mounted her, his muscled thighs spreading hers wide, and her eyes flew open in quick panic. She subdued the fear, forcing herself to relax as much as possible. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I know you wanted it to be better than this.”

  He rubbed his lips over hers, and she clung to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she felt his hips lift and his hardness begin to probe her. “I wish it were better for you,” he said in a low, taut voice. “But I’m glad you’re a virgin, that this first time is mine.” Then he started entering her.

  She couldn’t prevent the tears that scalded her eyes and ran down her temples. He was as gentle as possible, but she didn’t accept him easily. The stretching and penetration of her body was a burning pain, and the rhythmic motions of his body only added to it. The only thing that made it bearable for her was, perversely, the very intimacy of having her body so deeply invaded by the man she loved. She was shattered by how primitively natural it was to give herself to him and let him find pleasure within her. Beyond the pain was a growing warmth that promised much more.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE ALARM WENT off at four-thirty. She felt him stretch beside her and reach out to shut off the insistent buzzing. Then he sat up, yawning, and turned on the lamp. She blinked at the sudden bright light.

  Unconcernedly naked, he went into the bathroom. Madelyn used the privacy to bound out of bed and scramble into her clothes. She was just stepping into her jeans when he came out to begin dressing. His eyes lingered on her legs as she pulled the jeans up and snapped them.

  Surrounded by the early-morning quiet and darkness, with only the one lamp lighting the room, looking at his naked body seemed as intimate as the night before when he had entered her. Warmth surged in her as she realized that intimacy had many facets. It wasn’t just sex, it was being at ease with each other, the daily routine of nakedness and dressing together.

  As he dressed, he watched her drag a brush through her hair in several swift strokes, restoring it to casual order. Her slender body bent and swayed with a feminine grace that made it impossible for him to look away. He remembered the way it had felt to be inside her the night before, the tightness and heat, and against his will his loins responded. He couldn’t take her now; she would be too tender. She had cried the night before, and every tear had burned him. He could wait.

  She put the brush down and began plumping the pillows. He went over to help her make the bed, but when she threw the tumbled covers back to straighten the bottom sheet, she saw the red stains smeared on the linen and went still.

  Reese looked at the stains, too, wondering if she had any pleasure to remember as he had, or if they reminded her only of the pain. He bent and tugged the sheet loose and began stripping the bed. “The next time will be better,” he said, and she gave him such a solemn look that he wanted to hold her in his arms and rock her. If she had wanted it, he could have brought her to pleasure in other ways, but she had made it plain she wasn’t ready for that. He wondered how he would be able to retain his control if she did give him the total freedom of her body. That one, restricted episode of lovemaking hadn’t come close to satisfying the su
rging hunger he felt, and that was the danger of it.

  He tossed the sheet to the floor. “I’ll do the morning chores while you cook breakfast.”

  Madelyn nodded. As he went out the door she called, “Wait! Do you like pancakes?”

  He paused and looked back. “Yes, and a lot of them.”

  She remembered from her earlier visit that he liked his coffee strong. She yawned as she went downstairs to the kitchen; then she stood in the middle of the room and looked around. It was difficult to know where to begin when you didn’t know where anything was.

  Coffee first. At least his coffeemaker was an automatic drip. She found the filters and dipped in enough coffee to make the brew twice as strong as she would have made it for herself.

  She had to guess at the amount of bacon and sausage to fry. As hard as he worked, he would need an enormous amount of food to eat, since he would normally burn off four or five thousand calories a day. As the combined smells of brewing coffee and frying breakfast meats began to fill the kitchen, she realized for the first time what an ongoing chore just the cooking would be. She would have to become very familiar with some cookbooks, because her skills tended toward the most basic.

  Thank God he had pancake mix. She stirred up the batter, searched out the syrup, then set the table. How long should she give him before she poured the pancakes on the griddle?

  A heaping platter of bacon and sausage was browned and on the table before he came back from the barn, carrying a pail of fresh milk. As soon as the door opened, Madelyn poured four circles of batter on the griddle. He put the milk on the countertop and turned on the tap to wash his hands. “How much longer will it be until breakfast is ready?”

  “Two minutes. Pancakes don’t take long.” She flipped them over. “The coffee’s ready.”

  He poured himself a cup and leaned against the cabinet beside her, watching her stand guard over the pancakes. It was only a couple of minutes before she stacked them on a plate and handed it to him. “The butter’s on the table. Start on these while I cook some more.”