She practically snatched it out of his hand, then carried the dishes to the sink and set them in the dishpan under the water spout. Tessa scraped a bar of soap over the grater, brushed the slivers into the dishpan, and pumped the handle up and down as hard as she could. The cold water gushed out, bounced off the plates, and splashed up, soaking the front of Tessa’s green dress. “Thunderation! See what you made me do?” She whirled around to face him.
David nearly choked on his coffee. The wet fabric clung to her chest. David could see the trail of tiny indentions across her breasts and knew it was the lace at the top of her chemise. Fully dressed as she was, the wet calico did nothing more than hint at what lay beneath the fabric, but it was a vivid reminder of Saturday’s bath ritual. The memory of her body silhouetted against the sheet tortured him.
He had to force his next words around the lump in his throat. “You should change your dress; you might catch cold.”
“And wash dishes in one of my brand-new dresses?” Tessa was appalled. “I will not!”
David finished his coffee and carried the cup to the sink. “Wouldn’t you like to try them on for size?”
She would. She had wanted to ever since David unloaded the rest of the supplies. Tessa had unpacked the boxes and crates, delighting in the variety of canned goods and the thoughtful luxuries he’d ordered. She had almost everything put away when he brought in the last two big cartons. David had set them on the table, glancing at the labels.
“These are for you,” he’d told her. “I ordered a few things from Mary’s seamstress in Cheyenne.”
“More clothes?”
“You can’t keep wearing the one green dress,” he replied. “Oh, and there’s a couple of pairs of denims for Coalie and some shirts.”
Tessa looked stricken.
“Don’t worry. Mary’ll buy him some more. Go ahead,” he urged. “Try the dresses on.”
“No, I can’t. I’ve work to do.”
She’d stubbornly refused to open the packages earlier in the afternoon, but now she wanted to. She had reason to.
But still she protested. “The dishes…”
“I’ll do the dishes,” David promised.
Tessa looked askance at him.
“Come here.”
Tessa moved closer to him.
“Turn around.”
She did.
She felt his hands on her back as he quickly unbuttoned her dress and loosened her corset laces. It was a husbandly task. An intimate task. Yet it was something David Alexander had done for her a number of times. Something Tessa trusted him to do. She liked the warm feeling it gave her to know he’d done it without being asked. And up to now he’d always acted the gentleman.
“There,” David said. “You’re undone. Now you can go try on your new dresses.”
“Thank you.”
“Any time,” he replied, smiling down at her. “Go on. I’ll take care of this.”
She hurried across the room and grabbed the stack of boxes off David’s desk.
“Be careful,” she warned when David dropped his cup and the forks and spoons into the pan with a clatter, “or we’ll be buying more new crockery.”
“I know how to wash dishes.” He saw the skepticism in her expression and decided to prove it. He walked to the stove and removed the new copper kettle full of boiling water. Returning to the sink, he tipped the spout over the dishpan and poured, testing the water from time to time, until he got it hot enough.
Tessa watched, amazed. He did know how to do dishes. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” she demanded. “I thought you must’ve had a woman come in to clean before I got here. I didn’t know you did the work yourself.” She pinned an accusing stare on David. “I’ve been washing all the dishes since I got here when we could’ve been taking turns.”
David unbuttoned his cuffs, then turned to look at her. “I thought you wanted to.”
“Hmmf,” Tessa snorted, glancing upward. Only a man would say such a thing. “You thought I wanted to wash dishes?”
“Yes, and if you don’t go try on your new dresses, I’ll think you want to wash these.” David smiled his most devastating smile and rolled up his sleeves.
Tessa watched as he revealed the bronzed muscles of his forearms. She remembered the feel of his arms pressed against her. Turning, she left without another word, hurrying to her bedroom, where she slammed the door.
David allowed himself to relax. It was a relief to have Tessa out of his line of vision. The strain of holding his body in check was more than any one man should have to bear. He couldn’t seem to keep his gaze off her. He’d made a valiant effort, but he’d failed. She fascinated him.
It was all he could do to keep his hands off her. He wanted to taste her, to feel her. In the state he was in, David didn’t know how he’d make it through the night knowing they were alone, just the two of them together. He wanted to make love to her all night long. Even now he envisioned her taking off the green calico dress and the wet chemise. He saw her loosening the long satin laces of her corset, pictured the lovely pale, almost translucent skin, of her neck and arms and her long, long legs. Plunging his hands into the hot dishwater, David scrubbed a plate with a good deal more vigor than was necessary.
“I like the little pink flowers.” Tessa spoke from the doorway.
David whirled around, dripping sudsy water onto the floor. “What?”
Tessa giggled, a deep throaty giggle that took David by surprise. She moved to stand in front of him. “I said I like the little flowers on the plates.” Her heart seemed to beat a little faster at the picture he made standing there so tall and unbelievably handsome with a white dish towel draped over one shoulder. “You looked as if you were going to scrub the flowers off.”
“You look…beautiful.” He reached up for the end of the towel and dried his hands.
The yellow wool day dress fit her like a second skin. The soft fabric lovingly molded her curves in all the right places, and the color accentuated her vibrant red hair.
Tessa blushed. She’d heard many compliments when she worked at the Satin Slipper, but none so sincere or so flattering as the one David Alexander had uttered.
“You don’t think it makes me look too…too yellow, do you?” Tessa didn’t really doubt that the shade was becoming. She simply wanted to hear David confirm his earlier assessment.
“I think you look as fetching as a spring flower,” he assured her. “A daffodil.” He changed his mind. “No, an iris. A lovely, elegant iris.”
She spun around so he could view the back. “It fits perfectly. How did you know?”
“I told the seamstress you were about Mary’s size, only a few inches taller, and a redhead.”
She glanced back over her shoulder. “I’ve never worn a bustle before,” she admitted, “but I’ve always wanted to. Isn’t it grand?”
David focused his gaze on the back of her gown, paying close attention to the curve where her firm little bottom should have been. He frowned at the bustle. He preferred Tessa’s natural shape to the horsehair-enhanced version, but rather than spoil her pleasure in the fashionable bustle, David relied on his vivid memory. “It’s a work of art.”
“And look,” Tessa ordered, raising her hem a fraction. “Shoes to match.”
David looked at her trim ankles encased in dyed kid boots and the exposed portion of one calf in shimmering gossamer silk. The bill for her clothes would be outrageously high, made as they were on such short notice, but he wouldn’t complain. He’d already decided they were worth every last penny.
“Did you know there were three dresses?” Tessa asked, her lilting brogue thickening in her excitement. “This yellow one, a brown one, and a blue one. With gloves and…you know…everything to match.” She blushed again at the idea that he’d ordered more unmentionables for her. And lovely ones, at that.
“Everything except hats,” David told her. He despised hats, especially ladies’ hats with all the flowers and lace and b
ows and yards of tulle. He’d even seen some with stuffed birds on the brims. They ranked right up there with tea and—he stared at the back of her dress again—bustles. No hats. He’d telegraphed that message to the seamstress along with the others. He enjoyed the play of light on Tessa’s fiery mane. It would be a crime to cover it up.
“Well, who needs more than one hat, anyway?” Tessa smiled brightly, too brightly. She tried not to feel disappointed. After all, he had bought her all these lovely things. She should have known David would forget to order hats. She’d noticed he seldom remembered to wear his own.
“You can order a few hats if you want,” David offered impulsively, belatedly realizing Tessa liked feminine headgear and that he was being high-handed by denying her. “I’ll even take you into Cheyenne.” He hated the thought of going into Cheyenne, but if it would make her happy, it was worth it. Feeling generous, he added, “You can pick them out yourself. There’s a milliner in the city who makes hats of all descriptions, covered with bows and lace. Even stuffed quail and sparrows.” He tried not to cringe when her eyes lit up.
“When can we go?”
“In a week or so, after the circuit judge leaves,” David said, postponing it as long as he could. “I’ll have more time then.”
“Oh.” Again she tried to hide her disappointment.
“I might be able to fit a trip in sooner.”
“I can wait a week or so,” Tessa assured him although she wasn’t certain she wouldn’t be in jail then.
“I’ll see what I can work in between hearings,” David promised.
Hearings. David realized what he’d said almost immediately, and he could tell from the expression on Tessa’s face that she’d noticed as well. She had been accused of murder. Technically she was his prisoner, not his houseguest. She might not have any time after the hearing. She might not have any time at all.
“Tessa…”
“David…” Tessa gazed at him, unable to look away. She recognized the need in his voice. Lifting herself up onto her toes, she sought his lips.
David met her halfway, closing the distance between them.
Tessa wrapped her arms around his neck. The dish towel fell to the floor, unheeded. She pressed her lips against his.
He reached for her, touching the base of her spine with one hand. He felt the softness of the yellow wool as he pulled her to his body. Holding her cradled against him, he lifted his other hand to the back of her head. He tangled his long fingers in the silken strands of her hair, scattering the pins in every direction. The heavy mass tumbled from the confines of her braided coronet to hang well below her shoulders. David gently separated the braid and ran his hand through her hair.
Loving the feel of his hands in her hair, yet wanting more, Tessa explored the seam of his mouth with the tip of her tongue.
He groaned aloud. Parting his lips to allow her entrance, David kissed her back with an urgency that couldn’t be denied. He ate at her lips, tasting her over and over again, probing the depths of her mouth. He inhaled her breath, her little whimpers and cries of pleasure, as his tongue met, then mated with hers.
Tessa moved her hands from around his neck, caressing the breadth of his shoulders before working her hands between them. Finding the buttons of his shirt, Tessa undid them one by one, then slipped her hands inside the opening and touched the skin of his chest.
The feel of her hands against his flesh ignited the fires he’d kept carefully banked. Forgetting restraint, David tore his mouth away from hers, planting kisses on her eyelids, her cheekbones, down the column of her neck, and back again to her ear. He plunged his tongue inside the delicate shell.
Tessa shivered in reaction.
David released his tight hold on her, allowing his hands to roam over the back of her yellow wool gown searching for the fastenings.
She felt the cool rush of air against her back as David freed the hooks of her dress. Moving his hands to the front, he tugged it off her shoulders and down her arms. The bodice fell to her waist.
Placing a hand on either shoulder, David smoothed the straps of her corset cover and chemise aside. Tessa pulled her arms free. Smiling at the wonderful bounty she offered, he leaned forward and kissed the curve of each breast, then bent to pull the sheer silk garments lower.
Tessa gasped when his mouth found the hard nub of one breast. Her legs quivered beneath her. She groped for something to steady herself and found his wide shoulders. He licked, lightly at first, then harder, suckling her like a baby demanding nourishment. Tessa felt a rush of moisture between her legs, felt the incredible ache that begged for attention.
A hoarse shout followed by a burst of high-pitched feminine laughter outside the window echoed through the office.
“Damn!” David cursed beneath his breath as he straightened up and walked to the back door. It was unlocked. Lifting the window shade, he realized it was dark outside. Twilight had given way to night, and in the brightly lit interior of the office he and Tessa had been silhouetted against the shades for all of Peaceable to see. “Son of a bitch!”
“Who is it?” Tessa whispered, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable.
David strained to make out the figures walking arm and arm down the alley. Listening closely he heard the low murmur of conversation and the rhythmic jingling of spurs. As he watched, the two shadows stopped to kiss. David let the shade fall back into place.
“Just a cowboy and his lady friend.” He turned back to Tessa.
She stood in the center of the room, the bodice of her dress held protectively in front of her. Her eyes were a dark sapphire blue, her lips red and swollen from his kisses, her glorious red hair tousled by his eager hands. She’d never looked more inviting. Or lovelier.
David massaged the muscles at the back of his neck. What the hell was he thinking of? Tessa Roarke was his client, not his lover. He couldn’t forget that. But neither could he forget the feel of her in his arms or the taste of her. He wouldn’t let himself think about that, he promised. He’d think about her case instead. He couldn’t make love; all his energy should be focused on saving her. He couldn’t risk her life for a few hours of pleasure. David smoothed his hair back, restoring a semblance of order, and buttoned the top button of his shirt.
He would act honorably.
“David?” Tessa searched for a sign, some clue to his emotions, but his face gave nothing away. He had distanced himself from her. One minute they were intimate, and the next, he acted as if he’d never kissed her. Tessa struggled to regain the closeness they’d shared. “Would you like to kiss me again?”
God, yes, he thought, I’d like to kiss you all over. All night. Forever. “I think we’ve done enough kissing for one night, Tessa.” He finished buttoning his shirt and walked to the sink. The dishwater was cold.
“Don’t,” Tessa told him, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll finish the dishes.”
“We had a deal,” David reminded her, diligently scrubbing another plate. “I’d wash the dishes while you tried on your dresses.”
Tessa tried again. “Which dress would you like to see next? The brown or the blue?”
David plunged the plate into the rinse water before facing her.
She let the bodice of her dress slip just a bit, so the tops of her breasts were exposed to his view once again. She licked her lips and took a step forward.
David forced himself to stay where he was, but every inch of his body strained to accept her invitation. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “I…um…think you should try the other dresses on in your room.”
“You think too much.” Tessa took another step.
He held up a hand to ward her off. Drops of water ran down his wrist and fell to the floor. “Because you don’t think enough.”
She stopped, stung by his words. Her expression hardened. The softness left her eyes; they became a colder shade of blue.
He hated the change. “Tessa, you don’t understand… I’m your attorney. You’re my client.” br />
“I understand that I was as much your client when you kissed me as I am now,” she told him. “And I understand that I might not have much time left. A week from now I might be in jail for the rest of my life.” Tessa turned and stalked across the room, down the hall and into her bedroom, leaving him with a splendid view of the rigid column of her corseted spine.
Chapter Fourteen
Tessa couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned against the feather mattress, waiting, listening for the sound of David’s footsteps in the hall. She hadn’t heard anything except the rustle of the bedclothes against her body for hours. Had he left her? Had he gone out? Tessa remembered the last time he’d gone to the Satin Slipper when he’d told her about his drinking, how it made him want to love a woman all night long.
Tessa punched her pillow one more time, then flipped back the covers. If he’d gone to the Satin Slipper, she’d kill him. If he wanted to make love to a woman, it wasn’t going to be Charlotte or Myra. It was going to be her. She was the one who might go to prison for the rest of her life. Tessa knew David would fight hard to prove her innocence to the judge and jury, but she also knew that the people of Peaceable already believed her guilty of killing Arnie Mason. She felt, deep down in her heart, that she didn’t stand a chance of going free. She might never get another opportunity to he in David’s arms and to make love with him. She desperately wanted her chance to experience the pleasure David offered. She was the woman he wanted, not Myra or Charlotte, and she wanted him. Why shouldn’t she take advantage of her one chance at loving? Why shouldn’t she have the man she wanted before she went to prison?
* * *
David looked up from his desk, the words on the pages of the Pinkerton dossier scattered across his desk blurring in the lamplight. He closed his eyes, then wearily pinched the bridge of his nose. It was no use. He couldn’t keep his mind off Tessa. He wondered how she looked when she slept. What she wore. The memory of her back tortured him. He wanted to caress her soft skin, to kiss each vertebra, run his tongue up and down her spine, turn her over and pay homage to her magnificent breasts. David shifted in his chair, adjusting to accommodate the swelling in his trousers. It had been like this all night. He opened his eyes, forcing himself to read the meticulously written notes on Arnie Mason, the lists of petty crimes, extortion, and attempted murder. Just thinking of a man like that coming in contact with Tessa…Tessa.