Indigo Blue

  Though she looked both puzzled and apprehensive, she nodded. Jake gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze, then released her. What he was about to do went completely against his nature. Until this instant, in fact, he would have stood his ground and fought to the death before he even considered it. After taking a deep breath, he sank to his knees in front of her.

  The first feeling that hit Jake was humiliation, wave after wave of it. Then acute embarrassment. Grand gestures weren’t his way; he didn’t have the eloquence to carry them off. Now that he was down here, he couldn’t think of one damned thing to say. Not a single god-damned thing. She’d think he was crazy.

  Which he supposed he was . . . crazy in love. He tipped his head back to look up at her. Her eyes filled with tears again, but, obedient as always, she didn’t speak. She didn’t have to. Jake could see the incredulous expression in her gaze, and that told him all he needed to know. He no longer felt idiotic. Bending low, he curled his hands around her fine-boned ankles and kissed the tops of her small feet.

  “Oh, don’t . . .” she cried. “Jake, don’t . . .”

  Releasing her, he slowly straightened. His voice thick with emotion, he said, “That’s what this white man thinks his squaw is good for.”

  She covered her face with her hands and started to weep, the cries coming up from her chest, dry and tearing. Her legs buckled. Jake caught her as she sank to the floor. Holding her cradled in his arms, he rocked her and stroked her hair. As difficult as it was to hear her cry, he knew the tears had been six years in coming, and that she could never completely put Brandon Marshall behind her until she purged herself of the pain.

  Between sobs, she began telling him about that day. Jake could almost visualize the clearing in the woods and the five men who had lured her there. Indigo, at thirteen. Moisture burned in Jake’s eyes. At nineteen, she was still a child in so many ways, shielded as she had been from the world outside Wolf’s Landing. He had never known anyone quite so pure of heart. How innocent and trusting she must have been as a pubescent girl in love for the first time. His heart broke a little for that child and for the woman he now held in his arms. Her only sin had been being born.

  What hit Jake the hardest was her sense of betrayal. She had adored Brandon and trusted him. Until he sprang his trap in the clearing, he had treated her like glass and showered her with flowery compliments. Was it any wonder she was terrified to feel that way again about another white man? Suddenly Jake was able to see himself through her eyes and understand the uncertainty that must have plagued her. Was he what he appeared to be, a kind and gentle man who truly cared for her? Or was he a treacherous monster playing a cruel game of cat and mouse?

  “Indigo,” he whispered. “I want you to listen to me and listen good because I don’t ever want you to forget this. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known. The last place you should ever be is on your knees—to me or to anyone else. I lost my temper, and I said things I shouldn’t have. Asking you to get on your knees was unforgivable. I want that knife back on your hip as of tomorrow. Understand? And I don’t care if you give oratories to the animals in the woods.”

  A wet laugh caught in her throat. “All right.”

  “And another thing,” he added huskily. “From here on out, it’s my wish, my command, my order”—he smiled and brushed the hair from her lovely eyes—“that you never obey me when my wishes put you in a situation that humiliates you. Never.”

  She fastened a troubled gaze on his. “But . . . you’re my husband. I must obey you, always.”

  Jake grasped her chin. “Not when it means you have to sacrifice your dignity.” He trailed his gaze over her face. “I mean it. I’ll carve the command in stone if I have to, because I never want you to forget it. Your pride means far more to me than your unquestioning obedience. If I’m ever so stupid as to ask something debasing of you, I want you to tell me to go straight to hell. Have I made myself clear?”

  “Yes,” she murmured. “Very clear.”

  Acutely aware that he was asking her to go against all that she believed and that she probably wouldn’t do it if the moment ever came, Jake said, “Swear it.”

  She looked uncertain. “Jake, I—”

  “Swear it,” he insisted in a raw voice. “Right now, so it’s forever out of the way. I never want you to remember that squaw eating from off the ground and worry that the same thing could happen to you.” He grasped her chin again and gave her a little shake. “Swear it.”

  “I—I swear it,” she finally replied. “I don’t think it’s right, but I swear it.”

  “It feels right to me, and since I’m the husband in this household, that’s the way it’s going to be.”

  Jake lifted her off his lap and pushed to his feet, drawing her up with him. His gaze shifted to her shivering shoulders. “You’re going to catch your death,” he said huskily. “Without fires going, this house is as cold as a tomb.”

  She drew back and scrubbed at her face with the heels of her hands. He lifted a corner of the bedspread to dab at her cheeks again. When the last trace of wetness was gone, he bent to kiss her shimmering eyes closed and scooped her into his arms. When he reached the bedroom, he lowered her to sit on the bed and went to the bureau for her flannel gown.

  “I won’t be needing that,” she said in a shaky voice.

  Jake turned toward her and froze. She sat in a shaft of moonlight. The bedspread lay in folds around her hips. She looked so beautiful with her hair draped around her like molten silver, her dusky-tipped breasts peeking through the strands at him. His gaze dropped to her slender waist, which flowed gently into well- rounded hips and supple thighs.

  “Indigo . . .” He curled his fingers in the flannel. “Honey, we don’t have to—”

  “I w-want to,” she insisted in a thin voice. “Really.”

  Jake’s mouth curved in a smile. He had received more enthusiastic invitations. “I don’t think tonight is—”

  “Please? I don’t want to feel afraid anymore.”

  The flannel slipped from Jake’s numb fingers and fell forgotten to the floor. A saint, he wasn’t. “Are you sure?”

  She answered with a determined nod. Jake took a step toward her. Damn, how could he resist?

  In truth, Indigo wasn’t at all sure about anything. She was still just as afraid as she had been two hours ago. But she loved this man, and if she had to lie with him to keep him, she was willing to do it, tonight and every night.

  As he moved toward her, the fear moved up into her throat and suffocated her. She wasn’t positive what she expected him to do. To immediately start kissing her, she guessed. And to lie with her on the bed and start grabbing her private places. Instead, he hunkered down in front of her. She wanted to cover herself so badly that she had to make fists in the bedspread.

  In the moonlight, his dark eyes were shot through with glints of silver. His gaze moved slowly over her. It was the most humiliating few seconds of her life.

  “Do you have any idea how lovely you are?” He touched a hand to her cheek, then traced her nose and lips with a gentle fingertip. “Sometimes during the night I wake up and lie here just looking at you while you sleep. I’m afraid to move for fear you’ll vanish like a beam of moonlight erased by a shadow.”

  Indigo tried to speak, but all that came out was a squeak.

  He trailed a finger across her collarbone. “Honey, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

  She strained to swallow.

  He brushed a callused thumb across her mouth. “You’re frightened.”

  She gave a jerky nod. “A little.”

  Jake bit back a smile. She looked so young sitting there, her eyes giant spheres of dread, her features taut. Taking her by the shoulders, he gently laid her back and settled himself beside her, his upper body supported on an elbow. Placing a hand on her waist, he bent his head to kiss her eyes closed.

  “Tell me about your daisies,” he whispered as he trailed his lips to her earlobe. “Are they whi
te, pink, red?”

  “White,” she gasped as his teeth nipped at the sensitive place below her ear. “Wh-white with yellow centers.”

  “Where are they? On a hillside?”

  Indigo squeezed her eyelids more tightly shut, trying frantically to bring up the images so she wouldn’t feel his teeth nibbling along her neck. His breath, whisper-soft, washed over her skin and sent shivers down her spine. “They’re in a meadow.”

  “Mm.” He nibbled at her throat. “A big meadow?”

  “Yes . . . with a brook running through it.” She felt his teeth pinch lightly at the beginning swell of her left breast, and her eyes flew open. When he had described the things he would do to her, he hadn’t mentioned biting. Not that it hurt. Yet. She watched in frozen horror as he nibbled his way toward her nipple. “Jake?”

  “Hm? Daisies, Indigo. Just close your eyes and think about daisies.” With light, teasing little nips, he circled her nipple. “White ones with yellow centers, remember?”

  All Indigo could see was her traitorous flesh hardening and thrusting eagerly toward his mouth. Her body didn’t seem to realize what was in store for it. With each pass, he circled closer and closer to the dusky crest. Between the little bites, he started tickling her with the end of his tongue. The tip of her breast started to swell, and with every beat of her heart it throbbed, as if all the blood in her body was pulsing into it.

  His tongue flicked from her skin onto the sensitive pebbled flesh. The throbbing turned to a sharp ache. She took a ragged breath, then gasped when he finally seized the swollen peak. Expecting pain, she stiffened, then whimpered as a shock of sheer pleasure rocked through her. He rolled her with teasing little bites, then clasped her firmly with his white teeth and dragged his tongue over her. Once, twice. Indigo jerked with each pass. It felt—not exactly nice, but not exactly unpleasant, either. Unsettling, maybe. Jarring was a better word. No. . . . Frustrating, that was how it felt. It made her want. But she wasn’t sure what. Sort of like when she got to craving something and ate everything in sight trying to satisfy the need. Only worse . . . much, much worse.

  With a low moan, she ran her fingers into his thick hair and arched toward him. She sensed that he knew what he was doing to her, and the frustration grew until she had a good mind to give his hair a yank. She hated to be teased, and this was the worst ever. “Jake?”

  In reply, he closed his hot mouth around her and gave a sharp pull that curled her toes. She sobbed and held on to him for dear life. Wave after wave of electrical sensation streamed through her. Her belly knotted and began to spasm. Deep within her, a fiery heat started to build. Hungrily, he switched to the other breast and suckled it. Then he began to tease her again with the light nips of his teeth, until she writhed with yearning for his mouth to close over her again.

  When he drew away she felt strangely empty and alone. His eyes sought hers. Then he bent to kiss her forehead. “Do you trust me?” he asked in a throbbing whisper.

  “Y-yes.”

  He cupped her face between his hands. “Are you frightened?”

  “Yes.”

  Jake’s heart caught at the myriad emotions swimming in her eyes. Confusion, apprehension, and yearning. There was also a world of love shining there. Far more than he deserved. “There’s no need to be afraid. What I just did, was it nice?”

  “Yes, sort of,” she admitted. “The first part was—maddening. The last part was nice, though. Very nice.”

  “The rest will be even better.”

  “It will?”

  “I swear it.”

  She turned her cheek against his hand. “When will the hurting part come?”

  “I’ll tell you beforehand, just like I promised.” He rubbed his thumb along her jaw. “But I don’t want you to worry about it. It’ll happen so fast, you’ll hardly feel it. It’ll hurt a lot less than the cut you gave yourself on your arm.”

  Her eyes widened on his. “And then never again?”

  “Never again.”

  The tenderness in his eyes soothed Indigo in a way words couldn’t. His chest grazed her breasts and sent a tingle through her. She wanted to feel his mouth on her again, but she was embarrassed to ask. With trembling hands, she made fists in his hair and pulled his head close, telling him with her body what she couldn’t say with words. He gratified her with a thoroughness that left her head spinning. Then he abandoned her breasts and sought her mouth.

  Indigo felt as if she was melting into him. She ran her hands over the bunched muscle in his shoulders and parted her lips to grant his tongue entry. He curled a warm hand around her hip, his fingers kneading, then lightly stroking. Then she felt his callused palm slide to her belly. Very lightly, his fingertips slipped into the curly nest at the apex of her thighs.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he whispered against her lips. He coaxed her legs slightly apart. “There’s my girl.”

  His knowledgeable fingers played lightly over her until the place between her thighs began to ache. Lifting his head to kiss her neck, he whispered, “God, you’re so sweet. Just touching you makes me crazy.”

  Lost in a swirl of sensation, she let her head fall back to accommodate his silken lips. Need filled her, and she clamped her thighs around his hand and lifted her hips, uncertain what it was she wanted.

  Jake knew. She dug her nails into his shoulders and bowed her back, her breath coming in short, quick little pants. Jake smiled in the moonlit darkness, wondering what color her daisies were now. He watched her face as he brought her to climax. An expression of sheer bewilderment touched her features, and her lashes lifted. At the first spasm, her eyes filled with fright.

  “It’s all right, honey,” he soothed. “Just let it come.”

  Another spasm rocked her. Jake’s heart caught at the confusion he read in her startled gaze. “Sweetheart, trust me.”

  Afterward, while she lay there quivering and dazed, Jake jerked off his jeans and moved between her legs. When he grasped her hips, she opened her eyes and gazed up at him from beneath passion-heavy eyelids.

  With all his strength of will, Jake held himself in check. He wanted her. Never had he ached so for a woman. After taking such care to get her past the fear, he hated to jolt her back to awareness. But he had promised to warn her. First, he decided to check out the situation. Maybe, just maybe, a miracle would happen, and he could slip in without causing her pain.

  He eased his hips forward and pressed into her. His breathing harsh and ragged, Jake eased in a little more. He hated to hurt her. The God’s truth was, he didn’t know how bad it would be. He’d made it his habit to avoid bedding virgins, so his experience in this arena was nil. By the way her mouth was drawn, he knew he was already causing her discomfort, and he hadn’t even begun yet.

  “Indigo,” he whispered hoarsely.

  She focused large, trusting eyes on him. “Now?” she asked in a faint little voice.

  Before she could tense up, which he felt certain would increase her pain, Jake whispered, “Yes, now,” and drove his hips forward. Her body went rigid, and she gave a shrill cry. Jake broke out in a cold sweat. After sinking himself into her, he drew her into his arms and went still. She clung to his neck.

  “It hurts,” she cried.

  Jake clenched his teeth, in an agony of regret because he was bringing her pain, and guilt because, even though he knew he was hurting her, he didn’t want to stop. Being inside her felt more wonderful than anything he had ever experienced. Her body sheathed him so tightly. That alone could have pushed him over the edge.

  “Oh, God, Indigo, I’m sorry.”

  Unable to hold back, he moved his hips. She gasped and held her breath. Loath to hurt her, Jake forced himself to go still again. While he lay there embracing her, trying to soothe her, the building pressure inside him exploded, and he spent himself like a randy youth with his first woman. He squeezed his eyes closed and quivered, letting it come since he didn’t have a hell of a lot to say about it.

  Indigo gasped again
as his heat flooded through her. With a little sigh, she whispered, “Oh my . . .” He felt the tension drain out of her. Then, like a novice drummer marching to her own beat, completely oblivious to the fact that she was out of step with the rest of the band, she undulated her hips.

  Jake didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. His body felt like a wet, wrung-out rag, and now she was responding? On arms that quivered with weakness, he suspended himself above her, determined to come through for her if it killed him. Which it might, he decided. His heart was slamming like a sledge.

  In the moonlight, he could see the silver tracks of her tears on her cheeks. She lifted a luminous gaze to his. An incredulous, glowing little smile touched her lips. She raised her hips in artless, awkward abandon, a little off center, and without the force that he knew would bring her pleasure. But even so, the muscles in her face tightened. With a joyous moan, she retreated, then bumped against him again.

  “Oh, Jake,” she whispered. “I love you. Oh, yes . . .”

  Jake’s thoughts were more along the line of “Oh, no . . .” But then every man had at least one miracle coming to him in his lifetime, and while watching his innocent little wife discover the pleasures of lovemaking, Jake finally got his. Unbelievably, incredibly, he felt another flash of fire course through his loins. Still trembling from one release, he felt the pressure of another begin to build. Carefully, he moved forward to meet the clumsy little thrusts of Indigo’s slender hips, letting her set the pace, filled with an aching pleasure at the sound of her shaky little moans and shrill cries as she experienced her first jolts of ecstasy.

  Then passion pulled him into the vortex with her. He took over and set a more masterful rhythm, one which he knew would bring her far more pleasure. He nearly grinned when she bent her knees and clasped his hips between her thighs to better absorb the impact. She was so infinitely precious, so completely without guile. He wanted this to be beautiful for her.

  Suddenly, she arched and stiffened. Jake’s body responded with a primal ferocity. As his second climax in less than four minutes rocked over him, he had two surprisingly rational thoughts. One was that he had to be breaking some kind of world record—not that anyone documented phenomena of this sort. The second was a little more profound.